#sorry it took a little longer. its just. heavy topic. or at least very sensitive. and i tried to lay all i have to say abt it out in a way>

[secondchoice-ragdoll]

Do you think Trixie ever had feelings for Katya?

hiyaaaaaay now thats definitely a question😭 disclaimer: this is veeeery wishy-washy and fanfiction-y, based on barely anything else but *vibes* and my observations. this is strictly my perspective, and may not at all overlap w anyone's involved. none of this should be treated as actual information (just like anything else i say, pretty much).

so the quick answer is: yes. (but "feelings" is very broad)

in depth: i am 99,9% sure the answer is yes. at some point(/s), to some degree, some kinds of feelings, definitely yes. in the beginning it (whatever it was) seemed to pair with a sort of admiartion, which im sure they still have, but back then K could have been more like a far away, untouchable, sensational concept, now K is closer and she knows her well and loves and trusts her (and she is her god. never forget that😭😭😭). like rn she for sure loves K very very dearly and very very much. do you know abt that kind of love when u r not exactly sure what box to put it into, but all that matters is that its there and its a big feeling. and maybe u would be open to it being sexual/romantic too, but u might as well be fine w nothing of the sort ever happening, u just want to keep each other close. well they seem to fall under this bracket from where i stand.

obvi we know K has vocalised her opinion on the matter back in the days pretty clearly. and i'd argue that she has kept doing so up until very recently. and i'd also argue that so did T. like, the jig has been up for a decade, i think atp its their subconscious speaking sometimes, and they might not even be fully aware of how they r coming off (for example: the way they kept describing each other when asked abt their ideal partners. like, im sure they do not spend their days actively pining for each other. but like. u see it, i see it, we all see it?). im not saying they'd be perfect together w no issues and no rough times, bc thats just not realistic at all, but i know for a fact that they do love each other so very much im not even sure what a person can do w that intensitiy. (do they love each other the most? like, im not joking here, do u remember the times they have both said things like "u r my fav person" or "i definitely love u very much" or T pressing K on who she loves the most until she said her name? like??? if things have happened in the last months then i think ppl might have fallen out of Ts line who had a chance at being higher on the list (for a few possible reasons. such as being a romantic partner and how u r "supposed to" place those ones higher. but i get that. i just also have a lot of feeling abt this, surprisingly) then they *do* do love each other the most, dont they? so its all veeery complicated w them😭

the thing i am not certain abt is if T ever called it what it was, even only to herself. bc. like she doesnt seem to be a very big fan of said possibility of said feelings towards said person regardless of whether or not its true. like yes she will float the idea as a """joke""" of K being her partner at netflick in the middle of watching something totally irrelevant. but as a sentimental deep and actual reality im decently sure she does not like it. at different times of the last decade for different reasons (understandable ones, if i might add. the worst of it is that i can easily justify everything from both ends and thats why its just so UGH bc i get it. but i still think they r silly for doing things the way they do them). i think she knows on a level of being aware of what time it is, but the most in-character thing in my head would be for her to just go "no💗 like okay i see u i hear u i cant do anything but accept the fact that there is smth but just no. we got to stop, we cant be doing this. so i will not be acknowledging anything of the sort. bye". like ik it sounds stupid spelled out like this, but what i mean is that i feel like she worked on putting these things neatly away (before they even really had a chance to form into a graspable thought), and despite the box being made of glass and a little seetrought here and there, she seems to be content abt it being as it is.

and for how things are since her break? not a single fucking clue. i couldnt even tell u if i got paid to do so. i have a few ideas, all of them being based on even more nothing of a nothing than any of my other ideas. but i am seated for whenever we will be hearing abt how things went, or just seeing how things r when she is back. hope she is doing amazing wherever she is!!

[glitter-x-gold]

requested: sarò la luce di sera (Måneskin)

requested by @/Sheruie on Archive of Our Own! (link on the blog!)

in which Cora doesn’t think she can do it anymore, but thankfully, there’s always family to show her that she can

@/Sheruie requested, here it is :)

Cora is a female character on this case, as an obvious reference to the song. However, how you perceive and interpret Cora is your own choice.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: ⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️

- suicide attempt (nothing explicit, but still, implied)

~ * ~

Outside the hotel room, the night was dark and silent, the chilly breeze from the slightly opened window making Cora shiver slightly. She took a deep breath, followed by a sharp exhale, as she faced the unlabelled bottles that stood on the nightstand, at arm’s reach.

Some kind of dark, freezing void had taken over her chest, killing anything else, any other happy feeling that dared growing. It had been like that for weeks, maybe months, and she just didn’t believe there was any other way to live anymore. She just didn’t feel like she was strong enough to keep going. They certainly wouldn’t miss her much, right? No one wanted a broken someone, a person who could no longer put their own pieces back together, or at least pretend things were okay.

Laying abandoned on the bed, her phone buzzed, once, twice, the screen lighting up with unspoken urgency.Cora had told them she didn’t feel like going out that day.

Non mi va, raga’. Sono troppo stanca.

Ethan and Vic had respected her decision, though making sure she knew they’d come back running if she needed them; they had noticed how Cora hadn’t been herself for the past days. Maybe a little rest would help her get back on her feet. Thomas had kissed her forehead before going; a silent “Please be okay”. Damiano had stayed behind for a second longer to take her hand in his and squeeze it lightly, to then look her in the eyes with such intensity he had said everything without words. It didn’t matter how much she tried to hide it; he could see right through her. Now her phone was buzzing again. And she was ignoring it, still fighting an internal battle as to what she was about to do. She looked at the wrinkled paper she had left beside her, her shaky handwriting barely intelligible. She wasn’t sure if she should; however, she didn’t know if, come the time, she’d be brave enough to proceed. To finally stop burdening everyone. When Cora felt the dampness on her cheeks, she realized she was crying; her throat seemed to be closing, and an irrational panic arose to her brain. For the first time in weeks, she could feel, and what she felt was fear. She had the pill bottle in a firm grip, but something paralyzed her, so she remained there, sitting on the bed, crying, unable to do anything. A raging fire had replaced the numbness, destroying everything in its path, and Cora just wasn’t sure what was worse anymore.

The door to the room opened before she could process what was happening; she could hear the guys’ voices, chatting and bantering. She’d recognize Damiano’s laugh anywhere. Cora couldn’t even move, all she could do was cry, her breath in short, shaky puffs that hurt her aching chest. The sounds ceased abruptly when two friends fell silent, as they noticed her presence on the other side of the dimly lit bedroom.

“Cora?” - she heard Thomas call - “Cora?”

As they noticed she didn’t react, their calls for her grew louder and more worried. All of a sudden, before she could realize, a hand was placed on her shoulder, the cold contrasting with the excessive warmth of her skin.

“Cora… baby, what happened?”

Damiano was the first to notice the bottle Cora was holding in her hand; then, his gaze settled on the wrinkled sheet of paper placed beside her. Given her current state, it wasn’t at all hard for him to put two and two together. Setting all his heartbreak aside, he knew he had to think quick, so he brought himself down to his knees in front of her, while Thomas sat beside him, unable to hide his shock.

“Look at me” - Damiano asked, softly - “Cora, can you please look at me?”

While still gasping for air like a fish out of water, Cora made an effort to meet his gaze, focusing on something, anything but the thoughts that flooded her head. Moving gently, slowly, he placed his hands on top of hers, trying to unclench her fist and ease her grip on the pill bottle.

“We’re going to let this go, okay, amore?” - he said, while still trying to pry her fingers away from the object

Without realizing, the girl was whimpering, when she finally gave in to Damiano’s touch and opened her hand, releasing her grip on the pills, letting the container fall to the carpet with a soft thud, as it was replaced with the boy’s hand on hers. Damiano had climbed up on the bed to sit beside her.

“Did you take anything?”

Cora shook her head hastily, finally abandoning herself to the crying, no longer fighting her feelings, struck by the thought that she had almost done it. Thomas, still sitting in his place on the floor, was suddenly overwhelmed by the realization that if they had come home a minute too late…The girl was now huddled against Damiano’s chest, as he tightened his hold on her ever so gently, tears running down his own face, smudging his makeup.

“Andrà tutto bene, piccola” - he whispered, voice thick with his own overload of emotion - “We’re here now. Andrà tutto bene”

Cora tried to speak, to say something, anything, but instead all that left her chest was a loud, completely broken sob. Thomas took her hand, he too still confused and trying to fight past the shock that clouded his judgement momentarily.

“Perdonami”

It was, at last, the first intelligible word she was able to say.

The blond boy finally found it in himself to speak.

“There’s nothing to forgive. We love you so much”

They heard the door open again, Ethan and Vic’s voices speaking softly. They, too, fell silent, their features suddenly heavy, as they saw Damiano still holding on to Cora, both crying like children, and Thomas’ hand interlocked with hers, quiet tears, too, running down his pale cheeks. Exchanging a look, they took a step forward, making their presence known.

“Cora? Damià?” - Vic asked, confusion and worry in her voice - “Thomas… what’s happening?”

Ethan was the quickest of the two  to catch a glimpse of the pill bottle laying forgotten on the carpet beside her. Then, he saw the note, and a hand flew up to cover his mouth in shock. Vic followed quickly. In a moment, both were, too, sitting next to the rest;  Ethan on the bed, beside Cora, Vic on the floor, right next to Thomas, looking up at the pair. Damiano just felt thankful to have the girl safe in his arms; that they hadn’t been too late. Her cries had quieted down a little. The older boy left a gentle kiss on her forehead.

“How did you know?” - she asked, almost whispering

Thomas was quick to reply.

“You weren’t taking our calls. We were worried”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m a burden. I just thought you would be better off without me”

It was Ethan’s turn to speak up.

“Don’t say that again. Please” - he asked, hurt - “we love you, Cora. You’re our sister. We want to help you”

Then, Victoria:

“Don’t shut us out. We’ll fix this, we promise you”

Finally, Damiano cleared his throat and seemed to take a moment to think of how to phrase his thoughts.

“Sorellina mia, non sei mai sola… trust us on this one. Let us take care of you. We’ll make it okay”

For the first time in weeks, Cora felt an overwhelming amount of love replace the void that had been sucking all happiness out of her. A tiny little spark of warmth flickered on her heart, fueled by her family’s soft touches and kind words.

Damiano wiped the tears from her cheeks while his own still rolled down his face.As they huddled up together, taking comfort in each other, she knew they wouldn’t leave her. She had love. Something worth staying for.

--------

translations:

“Non mi va, raga’. Sono troppo stanca.” - “I don’t feel like it, guys. I’m too tired”

“amore (mio)” - (my) love

“Andrà tutto bene, piccola” - “Eveything’s going to be alright, baby”

“Perdonami” - forgive me

"Sorellina mia, non sei mai sola” - “My little sister... you are never alone”

(A/N): this is a very, very sensitive topic I would not normally write about. however, if this is a way to, somehow, bring any sort of comfort to someone going through a rough time, I am happy to provide it for you. let this be your reminder that there is always something worth fighting for.

this is a small story that in no way, shape or form glorifies mental illness. not only is it unrealistic and irresponsible to take it lightly, it is dangerous.

last but not least, everyone struggles at some point in life. bad days don’t last forever. you’re never alone. you’re so so loved. if you, like Cora, are not in a good place right now, remember there’s no shame in asking for help.

you can do this. it gets better. my inbox is open if you need a friend.

[minnie-mei]

okay so hyde likes knives, blood, and tattoos. and he can be both masochistic and sadistic,,,,and he is possessive,,,,,imagine, he takes his favourite knife and writes hyde on his darlings arm, then gives the knife to her and makes her to do the same to him,,,,,blood oozes from both of their names,,,and then they mutually lick the blood hohoho sorry i’m nasty 👉🏽👈🏽😳

cut me | jackson hyde

yandere oc !

scenario !

gn! reader

note; this is right up his alley bitch thank you for this request 👁️👄👁️

WARNING(S): NSFW !!! AT THE END, swearing, obsessive/possessive behavior, abusive themes, graphic violence, implied kidnapping, blood, sensitive topics

This wasn't an unfamiliar sight; Jackson Hyde coming home covered in blood after returning from a kill. But it was, however, the first time he returned injured.

It wasn't a major injury or anything, the blood on him wasn't his, but he had a deep, messy cut running down his jawline. You weren't sure if he felt it or not; he was moving around perfectly fine, save for his breathing being slightly heavier and movements a bit rushed. He began stripping down as he usually did, ridding himself of his black shirt and hat and throwing them into the hallway. You were sure there were stains on the floor from where he did that so often, but it wasn't like you were ever given the chance to look.

"C'mere, Doll." He snapped his large fingers, pointing to the edge of the bed. His hands ruffled through the messy black hair atop his head, before pulling a familiar knife from his belt.

You thought it was pretty and he knew it. That's why it was his favorite, actually. You remember when he lined out all his blades in front of you and asked you to pick which one you thought was best. You'd picked an 8-inch, black handled hunting knife with daisy patterns decorating the silver. It was ironic how delicate it looked despite its intended purpose.

You were shaking by the time you crawled over to where he wanted you. He didn't waste any time either, rushing to lean down and press his lips to yours, the blood from his jaw smearing on your chin and dripping down your neck.

"Shh." He shushed your whimper, shoving you roughly back onto the bed before pinning your arms down with one hand, his other clasping his knife. Crawling up your body, he moved to straddle your thighs to keep you from kicking, his hands unmoving. It was entirely too quiet in the house, at least to you. The only thing that could be heard was Hyde's heavy breathing.

The raven haired man wasn't moving, preferring to stare at your body below him instead. You were wearing nothing but his favorite Mötley Crüe t-shirt, a garment that was maybe six sizes too big for you, and a pair of skimpy pink panties he'd bought for you as a shitty surprise gift only a day ago. You knew he liked seeing his shirts on you, they were all he gave you to wear and he'd told you on multiple occasions how fuckable you looked when wearing them. But he'd never watched you beneath him for this long before.

"Ya so pretty." He said suddenly, his crazed hazel his glaring into yours, "Mine. You're mine, ya know that? Forever."

His large left hand gripped down on yours harder when you started to struggle, having spotted his knife moving down your body.

"Jack-!" You gasped his nickname out, knowing how well he liked when you used it, "I've been good!"

"So good." He agreed, using his knife to push the shirt further towards your chest, revealing the soft skin of your stomach.

You jerked when the cold silver touched your ribs, "So- ah- why...?!"

"It's not a fuckin punishment, so relax, Doll." He scoffed, some form of desperation still strong in his voice, "This'll be good for us..."

To be fair, the cuts weren't that deep, just barely enough to scar. But that didn't stop the broken screams from leaving your lips at the sharp metal dragging across your upper abdomen. Hyde didn't seem to mind the screams, probably used to them now that you thought about it. He just continued, humming some rock song to himself with a sick look of satisfaction across his face.

He cooed at you when he was done, dropping the knife and pulling your hands to his mouth to press sweet kisses to your fingers, "Ya did good, baby~ Took me cuttin' up ya little tummy so well, huh?"

Excluding the carving of your stomach, he'd never actually been this sweet with you before. He was usually blunt or sarcastic, only nice if it was in a teasing way. He was gentle sometimes but always sure to make up for it with plenty of bites and rough pinches.

"'Don't gotta cry..." he kissed your tears away to the best of his ability, "Ya get ta do it ta me." He chuckled darkly when your sobs began dying down out of surprise, "I'm yours too. Here, here..."

The knife was shoved into your hands, Hyde forcing you to grip it as he still hovered over you. He didn't have to speak out loud for you to know what he wanted. His eyes said it all.

'cut me'

Jackson Hyde's upper body was covered in tattoos, save for most of his abs and right side of his chest. You guessed he was just giving you full reign of where he wanted you to cut him. What should you write? You didn't even know what he put on you yet. When you looked down to find out, all you could see was red.

"Ya name, Doll. Put ya name." He whispered, licking his lips and pulling the knife closer to his chest.

You could admit to yourself that a piece of you had always wanted to inflict harm on your captor, but now that you were actually presented with the opportunity? You were scared. Was this some sort of test? He'd certainly tested you before. But something was different about this time; he looked so genuine. He was practically vibrating in anticipation. There'd never been a time before this when you'd seen him anything other than calm and cocky.

When you allowed the blade to touch his chest, rather than the hiss of pain you expected, a happy hum left him. You swallowed nervously, continuing to drag the knife down to shape the first letter of your name. The way he shook out of pleasure made you want to just stab through his ribcage. You had all the power at the moment. Even his hulking figure couldn't beat a hunting knife. But something stopped you: this was kind of nice, in a sick way. For the first time in months you didn't feel entirely like an unloved victim. Well obviously you just had something carved into you, but the affection was nice and so was the small taste of power.

"I-I love you, Doll." Jackson sputtered out, high off the pain and feeling of being claimed by someone, "I own you. 'Love touchin' you 'n hurtin' you. 'Want ya ta touch 'n hurt me too."

You hated how attractive he was, especially when he grinned like that. You hated his stupid Boston accent too, it just made him hotter. Somehow though, it was good for distracting you from the blood flowing down the knife to your arm, only adding to your own blood covering your body. His jaw had stopped bleeding heavily and hadn't dripped on you since he first started using the blade.

It was taken from your hand and tossed to the ground the moment you finished your name. You thought it was because he didn't want to risk you stabbing him for real, but you were proven wrong when he slid down your body and stuck his tongue to the cuts on your stomach.

And fuck did it burn.

"Stop-- stop!" You sobbed out, tears flooding back.

Of course he didn't, he didn't pay any mind to your pleas at all. He continued to drag his warm muscle across the red liquid and stinging wounds. You gripped his dark hair in your hands tightly, knowing better than to try and push his head away. If you did, he'd probably switch to biting you. Lost in your pain, you seemed to forget just how much he liked his hair pulled. His lips switched from your abdomen to your mouth in a second, swallowing your cries and gasps.

The remaining bit of blood he had on his tongue slipped onto your own, forcing you to taste the metallic flavor. His kisses were never soft, just like they weren't now. They were rough and hungry, full of the lust he didn't have moments ago. On the bright side, at least your cuts weren't being sucked on any longer, just your lips. As if sensing your relief, Hyde pulled back to stare at you. He was using his left elbow to hold himself up, the same hand was tangled in your hair to keep you down. You could only watch, out of breath, as his right index and middle fingers traveled up to his chest to catch some of the fresh blood there.

The bloodied digits were shoved into your mouth before you had a chance to process what he was doing. You didn't want to swallow at first but when he sunk his fingers deep enough to make you gag a couple times, you knew you didn't have a choice.

"'Taste good, Baby?" He smirked, his tongue running over his teeth. His eyes were back to normal now; dark, animalistic, and threatening. The 'softer' moment you were having before had apparently ended.

He was exceptionally rough with you the rest of that night; you'd eventually passed out from both exhaustion and blood loss. You had no doubts that he continued to fuck you after you lost consciousness, something he's done before (though he tries to make up for it by bringing you 'presents'). Your thoughts were only confirmed by the stickiness you felt between your legs when you woke up the next morning. You felt sticky everywhere actually, and that's how you realised you were still covered in blood, along with the sheets and blankets.

Jackson had gone to work already it was a Tuesday, leaving you to clean yourself up. He wasn't very consistent with his affection for you; sometimes he was sweet and gave you tons of aftercare, and sometimes he just dumped your limp body and fucked off. It was the latter today.

You knew what was most likely written on your stomach, but you couldn't tell by just looking in the mirror. The blood was so heavily cached on your skin that you could only see red. Blood was all over you: stomach, chest, limbs, and face. It was even in your hair and under your nails.

You kind of regretted taking a shower though. You weren't sure if feeling clean was better than feeling dirty if you had to see yourself claimed like this. Because there, carved surprisingly neatly into your upper abdomen was his name:

'J. HYDE'

___

i... rlly love him lmao

- Admin Duckie

[jungcity]

bane of the devil. | viii

genre: vampire!jaehyun [angst | fluff | smut]

pairings: jaehyun x female reader

words: 5.9k

warning: bane of the devil deals with themes of deaths, physical, mental, and sexual abuse as well as toxic relationships. which may be upsetting for some readers. you are advised not to continue if you feel uncomfortable to these types of plots.

“she is made of

bruises of the past,

of bullets made from flames.

she could rattle the skies

and shake the stars.

perhaps you have

missed the wolf

underneath her skin.

but she wasn’t made

to cower under your gun.

she wasn’t the hunter,

and she wasn’t the prey.

she is the enemy of the

demons who does

not deserve mercy.”

— bane of the devil, viii

A smiling Rhianon was who greeted you as you shut the door close behind you. With your heart still thundering against your chest by the little display Jaehyun had shown, you sauntered up to your own bed. Your body slightly bouncing by the impact of it on the soft mattress. The room was painted with darkness, with only Rhianon’s lamp providing the light.

“I couldn’t believe it! You really are friends with a vampire? How?” She looked so excited that she seemed to jump. Her glasses caught the glint of the lamp beside her table. Its yellow light touching half of Rhianon’s face.

You smiled shyly towards her, not bothering to light your own lamp. A thick tome rests on her bed, its pages splayed. Similar to the light of the lamp, its pages were also tinge with yellow; a sign that the book had seen better days.

“Yes. It was the most unexpected happening of my life, believe me.” Then a merry yet controlled chuckle escaped your lips. Jaehyun’s unfortunate state in front of your doorstep sinking back in your mind. “What is that?” Veering the conversation from you, you’ve decided to point your finger towards the thick book laying on her bed.

Rhianon followed your finger, until her own eyes landed on the thick tome. She grabbed and placed it on her lap. “Book of Enchantments and Magic,” she pronounced while trailing her fingers over the embossed title. “What a simple title for a powerful book.” Then she puffed a sigh.

Rhianon held the book on its edges, showing you a better view of its golden title. By the light, the cover gave off a crimson color. Dents and scratches could be found on its surface. A further sign that the book is, indeed, old.

“I didn’t know you’re interested in those kinds of books.” You smiled at her. The bookshelf located at the corner of the room must’ve been full of books about enchantments.

“Oh, I am interested. Deeply.” Rhianon ran her hand on the book’s cover, before placing it on her bedside table. “Ever since I was a kid, I’ve been devouring all of these books. I swear, I already have memorized every single one of these pages. That’s why I have poor eyesight.” She shrugged, pointing her finger at her eyes.

Suddenly, and as if meant to be brought up, you remembered Rhianon’s reason of joining the Academy. She stated it’s because of Madame. The pieces weren’t that hard to put back together. Madame is a witch. Rhianon have a whole bookshelf containing of books about magic and enchantments.

“Are you a witch?” You hadn’t meant the words to come out bluntly, but they had. Rhianon spared you an indecipherable glance. If she ever looked affronted, you would never know. She concealed her reaction to the question quite well.

“No,” she replied rather laconically. Her throat bobbed against the light. A sign that she could be lying. “Just a practitioner,” she added.

Then she carried the book towards her bookshelf, placed it between the other books and came back to her bed. A heavy aura weighed in between you. Instantly, you’ve regretted your blunt question.

“I’m sorry for asking, Rhianon. It’s not my intention to offend you.”

Rhianon blinked. This time, her face had given clear emotions. And that is a look of surprise. “No, Y/N. You’ve not offended me. It’s just that—” She bit her lower lip, before sighing.

“It’s okay! You don’t need to tell me if you aren’t comfortable,” you stated, holding up your hand as if in surrender.

“I joined to become closer to Madame,” she sighed, before laying her whole back on the bed. “I think it’s stupid. But I still believe that she would help me understand magic.” Her gaze drifted towards the ceiling.

The bed invited you to lay down, and lay down you did. “I think it’s not stupid at all. Mortals could possess magic, too.” You turned on your side and smiled at her.

Rhianon returned the smile, her eyes gleaming in the lamplight. “You think so?”

You nodded, the drowsiness pulling you down. Your eyes blinked in a languid manner. “Yes.” A yawn had escaped from your lips, but you fought it to get the question out of your mouth. “You said you joined for Madame. I now understand that it’s because of this. But, has she ever paid you any attention at all? To teach you magic?”

You truly hoped that you had not broached a sensitive topic. But your curiosity had the best of you. If ever Jaehyun’s instinctive doubts of Madame were true, the least you could do was to gather enough informations from students who had been inside this Academy longer than you were.

A flicker of sadness passed through Rhianon’s face as she turned her head towards you. By that, you already know the answer. Nonetheless, her mouth moved. “No. She said I should earn her trust, first. Which is funny, because I’ve been here for two years.”

Two years? That is a long time for someone who only joined this school for Madame’s magical teachings.

You clamped your mouth shut. The best way to earn a useful information is to listen. Specially when the person you were conversing with seemed to combust with all the suppressed words she had kept to herself.

“Two years of letting Eva break my bones. Two years of those leafy and rancid greens at the canteen. The only thing that’s stopping me from running away is the hope that she would, eventually, spare me a glance. And of course, Lucas’ smile.” She giggled like a high-school girl at the end of the sentence.

Of course. Lucas. Who wouldn’t fall for that ethereal face? Those eyes, and those luscious lips like freshly plucked cherries. Yet as you think about the good qualities of Lucas, the image of a dimpled-guy with pale complexion and eyes like the pit of the universe— so enticing, so enigmatic— couldn’t help but flash in your mind like a movie scene. The kiss that the same guy gave your head earlier sending tingling sensation all throughout your body.

“Yes. Lucas’ smile,” you repeated, with Jaehyun’s face etched on the very surface of your mind.

Rhianon started to snore, a sign that your roommate had already fallen into slumber. You whispered a silent good night before closing your eyes and joining her to dreamlands.

—

Red silk gown. Red lips. Red fingernails. Red bottoms. The crimson color seemed to overwhelm Alena’s appearance tonight. Her dark marble floors shone brightly, with the help of the prodigious chandeliers hanging on the roofs of her mansion.

This home. So expansive. So marvelous. Yet so empty. The silence was almost deafening. And Alena had never felt so alone. With a flick of her wrist, a vampire appeared from behind her. Ready to hear her words. Ready to obey.

She could feel her power threading through the most minuscule of her veins as she walked through the long table located at the very center of this separate hall. The vampire silently trailed behind her.

Everything was black; the chairs, the long table, the pillars adorning every corner of the room. Save for the crimson curtains that covers the floor-to-ceiling window panes. She darted her eyes at the chair that resembles that of a throne sitting at the very head of the table. She sat on it like how a queen would. Because in this town, she is.

“Sicheng,” she pronounced the words with enough carnality to make the boy salivate. “Pour me some wine.” And by wine she meant human blood, with a drop of honey to make it much sweeter. After all, not all human blood was as sweet as her taste buds would penchant for. Some were bitter to the taste, some doesn’t even bore any taste at all.

The man— Sicheng— gladly oblige, his lips stretching to reveal a smile. He has been extremely helpful to Alena ever since she turned him. He never once denied her orders. Be it to kill or deliver her fresh human blood, the boy oblige with reverence fit for a vampire leader.

As Alena brought the wine glass against her lips, the blood glinted in the chandelier first. She took a sip, then a moan echoed through her. Human blood is unparalleled. But she knows a particular kind of blood which out rivaled any other blood she’s ever tasted. The blood of her fiancé, Jaehyun.

Alena has lived for almost three-hundred years now. She’s tasted different bloods from sundries of species, hence she’s aware of the certain sweetness and omnipotence commixed with Jaehyun’s blood that made her wanting for more. At first she thought it was his neglect of his vampiric body and soul, yet Alena could still not pinpoint what was special in her fiancé’s blood. One thing that she was certain of, though, was the matchless power it gave her.

Jaehyun’s blood allowed her to walk under the sun unscathed. It repelled her from holy things such as the rosary and the bible. Ever since she started to drink her fiancé’s blood, she could skim through the bible and mock every verse printed on it without her fingers burning. Oh, how forlorn she’s become since Jaehyun begun to play hide-and-seek with her.

Alena’s thoughts were interrupted by the stomping of boots against her marble floors. She gathered her patience to prevent herself from burning whoever it might be. At last, the door opened, revealing Ranus, her favorite party organizer.

“My lady,” he greeted while giving Alena a bow that could almost reach the floors. “You look fantastic as always.” Ranus’ eyes shone in the chandeliers.

Alena raised a brow. Such empty pleasantries. If given the chance, all of the vampires in this useless town would certainly try to kill Alena in a blink of an eye. She wasn’t the leader all of these vacuous vampires expected her to be. Her hands were made of iron and cruelty and blood; one her father and grandfather didn’t have. And now they reside at the Athanar, where all vampires at the age of five hundred and beyond rests, leaving Alena to reign over.

“How is the preparation going on, Ranus?” If Alena’s voice would have a physical form, it surely would be a venomous snake. Born with a vampire venom circulating in her body, Alena made sure to bolster that venom to act as her defense towards those who wishes her dead.

“Smoothly as always, my lady.” Ranus kept his head down, not daring to look Alena in the eyes. To do so would be downright disrespect. One rule Alena wants her vampires to follow; never look her straight in her eyes. They don’t have the power to dare such impudence.

Only Jaehyun could look her in the eyes. And now he’s gone, hiding from her.

Alena pushed away the thoughts by standing up, her hand still holding the glass of blood. Her heels clanked against the floors. With a flick of her wrist, the curtains parted to give her a better view of the world outside. Alena’s forefathers built their mansion at the very edge of a cliff, for they wanted to look down on the people underneath their mansion’s magnificence. Mortals are vital for a vampire’s survival, but they don’t— will never— match the glory that even a fledgling has.

“And the venue?” she asked after taking the last sip of her wine. She would’ve asked for another glass if not for Ranus’ dreadful answer.

“Juana insists the venue to be at her villa, my lady.”

“Is that so?” What a surprise. Juana undermining her decisions.

It was decided that the vampire leader of this town would supervise the incoming gathering of vampires and vampire hunters alike. That means Alena would be the one to decide things, not anyone in those wretched Academy, and specially not Juana. That hag.

“Yes, my lady.”

Alena gripped the wine glass so tight it cracked on her hand. She could feel Ranus’s eyes on her back, his fear clinging onto the air. “Go and remind that witch bitch who’s in charge here.”

“At once, my lady.”

Alena could still feel Ranus’ presence behind her. He was reluctant to say something. “What is it Ranus?”

“My lady… Juana also reminds you of the thirty-fifty ratio of attendees for the gathering.”

“Ah, yes.” The wine glass finally shattered. Its shards jabbing through Alena’s palms, causing blood to flow from her flesh.

Juana insists that the attendees of the incoming gathering would only consist of thirty vampires and fifty hunters. When Alena first heard of the demand, she almost snap a vein in her temple of laughing by the incredulity of it. The witch really believed that she could overpower the vampire with twenty additional hunters.

Tonight, as she heard the same demand, the certain anger meant for the witch ignited once again in her chest. It’s too much of a disrespect for the vampires. But for the sake of everyone’s entertainment, she would agree. It’s better to let the witch thinks she has the upper hand, only to be disappointed in the end. Victory is sweeter when it’s unexpected.

“Tell her I agree.”

“My lady?”

Alena whirled and sauntered up to Ranus. She caressed the vampire’s cheek with the wounded hand that was starting to heal itself, before giving Ranus’ lips a tender kiss. The vampire stilled, his every veins shouting in fear. “You heard me. Now, go, Ranus.” With another light pat on the cheek from Alena, Ranus sprinted away from the vampire leader.

After Ranus’ departure, Alena turned her full attention to the vampire in the shadows. It’s time for the game to continue.

“Sicheng, come here.”

Alena walked back to her throne at the edge of the table. Sicheng was beside her, waiting for the orders.

“Find Jaehyun. He must attend the gathering with me.” At much as the words hurts her throat, Alena needs Jaehyun to escort him to the gathering. All of the vampires in this town knows their relationship. And if they fear Alena with her presence alone, what more when she’s with Jaehyun? The latter doesn’t realize it yet, but the strength he has in his body could overthrow even the elders at the Athanar. Much gratitude to Jaehyun’s stupidity, he doesn’t know about that yet. And Alena had no plans to apprise him of it.

“Yes, my lady.”

“He’s with a girl. If she gets in the way, kill her.”

Alena wasn’t certain if Jaehyun’s imbecility could rival itself. That could only be proven if he decides to choose a mere college girl over a vampire leader.

“I’m at your disposal, my lady.”

She once again flicked her wrist to dismiss Sicheng. He attempted to leave, but Alena’s voice echoed through the hall again, halting the vampire on his tracks.

“Be careful, you might see your mother on your sleuthing.”

Sicheng’s jaw tightened, a further reminder of the hatred he bears for his own mother. He only nodded before he disappeared from Alena’s sight.

Sicheng is the reason why Juana seeks to destroy Alena. Little did she knew, it was her son who crawled his way to Alena’s mansion, begging her to turn him. Until now, Juana believes that Alena turned her son against his will. Alena did what she had to do to save Sicheng, and now the wrath of a witch lays on her shoulders.

A poisonous smile stretched out in her lips. Alena is a god. And no mere witch— no matter how powerful she might be— could destroy her.

—

The uniform exceeded all your agitations. Not only it was uncomfortable, it was also a bit tight for your liking. The secret curves you tried to hide with baggy shirts were now displayed for everyone to see. You felt as if you were sculpted. But you could not be bothered about the uniform, for you were already standing in an open space near the Arena to listen to Eva and Lucas.

Rhianon discussed with you the importance of the Arena on the way to the open space earlier. She said, twice a year, venatrixes and venators compete to showcase their strength at the Arena. It was also directed by the Madame, herself. With few of the vampire hunters helping her hold the event.

“Alright, a pleasant morning to everyone. I hope you’re ready for today’s training.”

Everyone was silent, allowing Eva’s voice to be as clear as possible. You have decided to stand at the very end of the lane with Rhianon. But that doesn’t excuse you of the scrutinizing eyes of both venatrixes and venators alike. They looked at you as if they were already aware of the weakness residing in your bones. However, you held your chin as high as you could muster. You went here for your parents, not to please these students.

“Let us start, shall we?” Eva held her fist high, then she shouted, “Venatrix!”

All of the students around you, including Rhianon, stood rigid and pressed their fist across their chests. “Venatrix: steadfast and loyal!”

The echo of voices deafened you, but you scrambled to put your fist across your chest and shout whatever the motto was. Your tongue knotted together in a hurry to catch up and shout the motto, you could only hope that no one heard you as you tripped on your words.

“We’ve practiced and trained enough strategies in defeating a vampire in a combat. But as we have a new venatrix, we shall recall these strategies from the very beginning,” Lucas stated. His demeanor was more stout and serious than when you were only having a casual conversation with him. He does not carry the spring-like smile in him today, making his face more dangerous. The kind of danger you weren’t conscious someone such as him could possess.

The silent groans broke you out of your reverie. Clearly, the venatrixes weren’t happy about this decision. You could shrink back behind Rhianon, or you could continue to held your chin up high to pretend that their protestations doesn’t affect you at all. You did the latter. Madame needs you, and no degradation could take that advantage away from your hands.

“Y/N, it’s a pleasure. Could you please— stand here?” Lucas’ smile returned as he gestured for you to stand in the frontline. Of course, he could easily spot you with his height.

The line parted for you. Rhianon gave your hand a tight squeeze before you trekked towards Lucas. His smile never faltered as you finally took your place in the front.

Eva gave you a small smile before bellowing instructions again. “Remember your stance. You would hate to forget it. Vampires are swift creatures— but it would be an advantage that you remember how to dig your soles in the ground for more strength.” Eva raised her fist, as if to punch someone. Then she placed her right foot behind the left, her left hand resting in fist at her sides, as if she was about to uppercut someone. “This is the stance of every fighter. Y/N, could you please try it?” Eva invited you with her hand stretched out.

You gulped and did as you were told. Lucas raised your fist, while Eva nudged your left foot to separate your feet further. Her action almost made you lose your footing, but she was quick to catch your arm. Silent laughters could be heard from the throng of students, heightening your agitation. Your eyes frantically searched for Rhianon’s face in the crowd, but to no avail.

“Quiet!” Lucas shouted. At once, the laughters stopped.

“Your muscles are tensed, Y/N. Try to relax them at the point of comfort,” Eva whispered. “Make them strong but not too rigid.”

Having no idea of how to do her orders, you furrowed your brows. With that, Lucas chuckled. But your eyes caught up on the frown that was etched across Eva’s features. As your eyes met, she smiled.

“I think it’s best if we dismiss the venatrixes today? Send them to the armory to practice weapons?” Eva turned her attention to Lucas. The boy blinked but nodded his head.

“Alright, all of you, go to the armory and practice your preferred weapons,” Lucas pronounced. All of them nodded their heads before the crowd dissipated, leaving only you to Lucas’ and Eva’s graces. Rhianon gave you a small wave before following the students. You only nodded your head, for Eva’s grip on your arm didn’t allow you to wave back to your friend.

“Focus, Y/N. You need to catch up.” There was an edge to Eva’s voice now. As if the five-minutes of teaching had already drove her impatient.

“Show us your strength, Y/N. Try to punch my palms.” Lucas held up both his palms for you to attack.

Then you started to punch. Lucas held them firm. You continued to attack him with your punches. Beads of perspiration already forming on your forehead, but the black uniform seemed to sponge the sweats from your body. Leaving you feeling grimy.

“Okay, stop.” He smiled. You hunched your back and pressed your palms to your knees, trying to refocus your breathing.

“You have the strength in you, Y/N. Practice is all you need.”

Thanks to your physical education classes about boxing. You had dreaded every session of that class, never realizing that the things you had refused to learn would be useful today.

“Again,” Eva demanded. She held up her own palms, her brows knotted in concentration. You glanced at Lucas. The boy gave you one of his encouraging smiles before tapping your back.

You slightly twisted your arm to land a punch in Eva’s palms. Unlike Lucas, she moved, causing you to miss her hand by a hairsbreadth. You knotted your brows but she only smiled. So you continued to penetrate her, and she continued to move her palms to different positions, rejecting your every hit. Impatience slowly crawled on your skin, intensifying your determination and giving you more strength. Eva’s feet started to move backwards as she tried to defend herself from your attacks. Lucas silently following the both of you.

It was obvious that she’s draining you out of your energy, and perhaps she’s trying to ridicule you. A smirk was displayed across her face, widening as you mishit her palms yet again.

You fought the urge to punch her face instead. Restlessness would lead you to nothing but more troubles. You only need to hit and hit and—

Suddenly, the world seemed to whirl in different colors. The only thing you felt was the hard collision of your breaches against the hard ground, followed by the fall of your whole upper body. Red spots swam in your vision as you struggled on your feet. Albeit regaining your footing, the world continued to move around you. Firms hands held you in place, steadying you.

“Why did you do that?” Lucas asked.

It took you minutes to realize that he was asking Eva.

“We need to advance her training.” She shrugged.

You blinked a few times. When the swirling of your vision finally halted, you wiped the dust off your palms and off your uniform.

“Oh, yes? You didn’t need to punch her nose, Eva!”

Eva’s mouth was formed in a thin line. She placed her arms across her chest, her foot tapping on the ground.

“It’s okay, Lucas.” You held up your hand. No, it was not okay. You wanted to attack Eva again to regain your pride. Of all the body parts she could hit, she really decided to punch your nose instead? You waited for blood to flow from your nostrils. Thankfully, after touching the skin below your nose several times, the only liquid you could feel was your sweat.

“Do you need to go to the clinic?” Eva asked, her voice devoid of the warmth she once gave you yesterday.

Clinic, again? The offer was enticing. All you wanted to do was to go back on the bed and sleep. But to do so would mean another weakness. You refused to dwell to that same feeling again. So you shook your head.

“No.”

For hours, Lucas instructed you with different techniques. Eva dismissed herself, saying that she would look over how the venatrixes were faring with their weapons. Having Eva away gave you a little peace of mind. Lucas was gentler and more focused on magnifying your strength. He would only laugh and teach you the right ways every time you tripped over.

After hours of training, he told you to rest. Now you’re alone in the open area under the tree, munching your food.

“How’s your training?”

Your food went flying from the spoon as Jaehyun sat beside you. “Don’t startle me like that!” You pitifully looked at the food on the ground, dirt had already coated it. “Why are you here?” You snapped your head at him.

Jaehyun’s smirk faltered as he took in the condition of your face. You raised a brow. He held your chin, his face not giving away any emotions. Then he deadpanned, “Who did that to you?”

Automatically, you covered your nose with your hands, the spoon you were holding went flying to the ground as well. “Accident.” How did he manage to see the injury? You were certain that your nose still had the red tinge from yesterday’s brawl. Jaehyun shouldn’t be able to spot that you have yet obtained another fresh injury.

“Accident? On your first day of training?”

You nodded. “Yeah, earlier.”

“Then you’re dumber than I thought.”

With that, you landed a punch to his arm. His nose scrunched up as if he was in pain. “I know you weren’t hurt.” You rolled your eyes. It’s better if he doesn’t know who injured you on your first day. Eva almightily stared him down yesterday. And you know the scene didn’t settle right on Jaehyun. Best not to reveal everything to him.

“Why are you alone?”

“Lucas told me he’s going to check up on Eva and the others. You? Why are you out here in the sunlight?”  

Jaehyun leaned on the tree. “I was bored.”

“Bored? So you decided to risk your life out here in the open?”

“I can handle myself.” Then he reached his hands towards the little sunlight that had succeeded to infiltrate through the lush of the leaves.

“Jaehyun!” You tried to swat his hands away.

“Relax,” he assured you before continuing on his doing. Then it started. As the sunlight proceeded to touch Jaehyun’s skin, his flesh emitted thin layers of smoke. Faint smell of burning flesh mixed with the fresh air. You covered your nose from the stench.

“Stop that!” You wrenched his hands away from the ray of light. This time, he didn’t budge.

The back of Jaehyun’s hands continued to sizzle, but the smell was fleeting. Pinkish flesh could be seen from his scorched skin. He opened and closed his hands, as if to stretch the skin. Then the skin started to stitch itself back together until no trace of burned flesh could be seen.

“I do that some times to remind myself I’m still half-alive.”

Your eyes could not turn away from his hands. Vampires could heal themselves faster than any mortal devices could. But to witness it on your own, it still brought an unnerving feeling to settle in your bones.

“That’s…”

“Awesome?” Jaehyun raised a brow. Then he stood up, offering his hand to you. “Get up, I’ll teach you how to defend yourself better than Lucas.”

“I would say that was scary,” you teased before holding his hand to prop yourself. “Teach me your ways, your majesty.” You mockingly curtsied, earning a soft laugh from him.

“What did they teach you?”

You did Eva’s instruction from earlier. You raised your fist, the other resting on your sides. Then you stepped your one foot forward, the other digging in the ground. “This. And then Lucas taught me the correct ways to punch.”

Jaehyun pursed his lips to repressed a laugh. “Ten seconds in the battle and you’re dead.” Then he sauntered up beside you, “These are all useless. When you come face to face with a vampire, these postures won’t help you. You must study your opponent— and you could only do that if you let the vampire attack first.”  Jaehyun backwardly stepped away from you. His fingers moving, as if challenging you to a battle. “For this practice, I won’t use my swiftness,” he stated before running towards you as if to attack.

Your heart thudded in your chest. He looked ready to hurt you. So you did the one thing you could do then, you covered your head with your arms.

“Dead,” Jaehyun muttered. You waited for the impact, but none came. So you opened your eyes. His hand were splayed, inches away from your suit. “Don’t cower, Y/N. Study my attacks.”

“You’re scary,” you whispered, embarrassed to admit the words.

“I am deadly attractive, Y/N. And you say you’re scared of me. What more if you come to battle with an unattractive vampire?”

With that, you raised a brow. Vampire venom does a lot of things. If you weren’t generally attractive in your mortal life, the venom could enhance your features, sculpting your visage to that of a pleasing one once you turn into a vampire. Jaehyun must have been extremely agreeable when he was still a mortal, for his face today could rival the beauty of gods.

You shook your head, aiming for your focus. “Let’s try again.” Eva’s instructions flew away from your memory as Jaehyun attacked you yet again. He was swift, even without his power.

“Dead.” He smiled when he captured your neck. His hands once again splayed as if to chop your head off your body.

You sighed but never hesitated, so you defended yourself again and again.

“Dead,” he chuckled.

“Dead.”

“You’re dead, Y/N.”

You wiped your brow with the back of your hand, “This is frustrating!”

“C’mon! Don’t give up. Pay attention to my attacks.”

Jaehyun strike at the side of your waist, but you defended yourself by turning to avoid his hands. Then he attacked your head, you crouched as fast as you could. His knee was about to collide with your face when you pushed it away with your palms. You wheeled your body away, and attempted to punch him right in his face, where he was defenseless. But as your fist was about to strike at his cheek, he turned on his side and caught your arm. His smirk returned as he saw the realization dawning across your face.

Jaehyun’s left hand caught yours, then he pinned it behind you. While his other hand held your right. You were now immovable. Defeated.

“Dead,” he whispered, his breath fanning your cheek.

One swift move and your lips would surely collide. All your muscles stilled, the somersaulting of your heart was so loud. You fought the urge to crash your lips against his, even though it was so tempting to do so. Jaehyun has a fiancée. But the words weren’t enough to move your body away from him. It was ludicrous.

Jaehyun closed the space between the two of you, but before he could land his lips against yours, someone interrupted the both of you. His lips landed on the side of your head instead when you pulled away from him.

Lucas and Eva came into view. With the latter plastering a deep frown across her face. She was obviously unhappy of what she saw. Yet you could not be bothered by her reaction.

“I see that you’re practicing another techniques, Y/N.” Eva smiled, but there was no friendliness attached to her face.

What’s happening to her? Yesterday, she was so enthusiastic. Friendly, even.

“What do you mean?” You dared ask as you straightened your back.

Eva raised her brow, “Seduction is a weapon not all girls could wield. I admire your technique.”

“Eva–!” Lucas grabbed her arm, but she held her chin high.

Seduction? Does your position screamed seduction to her? You won’t admit it, but her words jabbed a shard on your chest. You don’t need to seduce your way to triumph.

“Eva.”

The three of you snapped your head to Jaehyun. He was standing beside you, his hands hidden in the pocket of his jeans.

“Eva, right?” When Eva nodded, Jaehyun continued, “You’re not my type.”

“Excuse me?!” Eva’s eyes widened. Lucas pursed his lips tighter. While you remained standing beside Jaehyun.

“I can hear your heart, you know. Do you want me to narrate the things that’s going on in your head? Of how you dreamt about me— even though you’ve only met me yesterday?” Jaehyun’s words were as flat as the ground underneath your feet.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” She half-screamed. But you didn’t miss the bobbing of her throat nor the perspiration slowly coating her forehead. Now, you are absolutely curious about her dreams even though knowing means breaching her privacy.

“You do. And quit bitching around. You’re supposed to train Y/N, not humiliate her.”

“He’s right, Eva.” Lucas chimed in.

Eva snapped her head towards him. “Shut up!” she seethed. Then she turned her head back to Jaehyun, her eyes like fiery coals. “And you shut up, vampire.”

When Jaehyun attempted to reiterate, you held up your hand. Whatever secret he has in the back of his tongue, you won’t hear it. It would humiliate Eva further. And you didn’t want that.

“You are weak, Y/N. Weaker than what I have anticipated.”

Lucas held her arm tighter, pulling her away from you. “Shut up, Eva!”

Ice cold rage swept through your whole body. You furrowed your brows and sauntered up to face her. “What did you say?” Every last bit of patience you have for her is now clinging on a loose thread. One wrong word and you would certainly land your fist right in her face— to hell with the ramifications.

“Y/N, she didn’t mean it—”

“Oh, I meant it! I meant every word of it! You are weak and you will never be one of—”

Your palm smarted from the slap you gave her. But that wasn’t enough for the insult she’d thrown at you. You gathered a fistful of her hair and threw her to the ground. However, she regained her footing easily and landed a straight blow to your face. You staggered backward, but Jaehyun supported you upright.

“Remember what I told you,” he whispered before letting you go.

Eva ran towards you, her hands formed into fists. You raised your arms to cover your head, and you let her punch every opening to your body. Lucas attempted to pull Eva away, but Jaehyun clasped his hand around Lucas’ wrist. He mouthed ‘let them’ before nodding at you.

“You bitch!” Eva snarled.

Where did her hateful energy come from? Nevertheless, you’ve decided not to be affected. You struggled to memorize her every strike for your own advantage. And when you did succeed, an opening through her face greeted you. You landed your fist to her nose. The bones made a cracking sound, sending satisfaction all throughout your body. Eva fell on the ground. Before she could stand up, you sat on her stomach and raised your fist, ready to punch her again. But a viselike grip took hold of your wrist.

“Enough,” Jaehyun said.

You tried to catch your breath and calm your nerves. Eva still underneath you, clutching her nose. What have you done? You blinked and allowed Jaehyun to help you on your feet. Lucas aided Eva to stand up. The whole area was silent, save for your heavy breathings.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Lucas frowned, before guiding Eva away. But the woman refused to be guided by Lucas. She looked at you as if she wishes you dead.

“We’re not done, Y/N,” she warned.

A sarcastic laugh reverberated through you, “Alright, then.” Then you pinned her down with stare, “But know this, Eva, don’t you dare underestimate me again.”

[star-spangled-steve]

His New Partner

Chapter 34: The Reunion

Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: 2680

Warnings: Some pretty heavy angst, lots of tears, cussing.

A/N: The moment we’ve all been waiting for...

“I'm not looking for forgiveness. And I'm way past asking for permission. Earth just lost her best defender. So we're here to fight.” Steve took a step down on the platform, looking the hologram of Secretary Ross directly in the eye. “And if you ‘wanna stand in our way... we'll fight you, too.”

Ross paused, making sure the Captain was serious, before turning away from him and facing Rhodes. “Arrest them.”

The man nodded in response. “All over it.” He swiped the hologram away, making the Secretary and all of his men quickly fade away. “That's a court-martial.” James stated, before a smile slowly made its way into his face. “It's great to see you, Cap.”

Steve gave a small grin back and shook his old friend’s hand. “You too, Rhodey.“

“Hey.” Rhodes greeted Natasha as he embraced her in a friendly hug. When they separated, he gave the group a once-over and sighed. “Wow. You guys... really look like crap. Must've been a rough couple years.”

“Ya, well, the hotels weren't exactly five star.” Sam, who with Wanda’s help was supporting an injured Vision, quipped.

“Uh, I think you look great.” A voice spoke from the opposite end of the room, and everyone looked to see that it was the long-missing Bruce. “Uh...” he lightly chuckled, “ya, I'm back.”

Natasha gave the man an unreadable look, not showcasing any of the thoughts that were running through her head at the moment. “Hi, Bruce.”

The scientist gulped. “Nat.”

Sam turned to Vision and Wanda, whispering. “This is awkward.”

“Eh, Rhodes,” a female voice was heard from the direction that Bruce had just entered, making everybody turn their heads, “I’ve been looking all over, have you seen the-?” The woman immediately stopped in her tracks. Her mouth was wide open, a quiet gasp escaping, before her hand came up to cover it.

There he was, her husband. He looked much more rugged now, a thick beard on his face and small curls tucked behind his ears; much different than the clean-cut man she’d fallen in love with; the man who she’d been longing after for the past two years, and was suddenly standing right there in front of her. She had no idea how to react.

“Y/N...” He spoke. But before he could get another word out, she was turning around and making a run for it.

Sam winced. “Guess I spoke too soon.”

Steve was hot on Y/N’s heels, but she paid him no attention, too surprised and appalled to even say a word.

“Y/N! Y/N!”

She had speed-walked so far, that before Steve even knew it, he was following her into her room. The room that not too long ago it used to be his too.

Steve took notice of how everything inside had stayed the same. All of his old pictures, records, watches, and other belongings seemed to have not moved an inch. He bet that all of his clothes were still in the closet too, probably right near his old pairs of shoes. There was a new door in the back of the room though, and Steve wondered what was behind it.

The girl had refused to look at him this time, only showing him her back.

“Y/N, please.” The man practically begged, before just grabbing her wrist and turning her around himself.

She faced him sharply, yanking her wrist out of his grasp. “Please what?”

Steve instantly noticed the tears brimming her eyes, and the heavy waver in her voice. His heart broke at the sight and sound of it all, hating himself for being the cause. “P-Please give me a chance to try and explain.”

Y/N scoffed. “Oh? Well, uh, I really don’t think you need to explain, Steve! What can possibly be explained beyond that stupid little letter you sent me?”

Steve could tell that she was using sarcasm as a defence mechanism, something that she only did when she was very upset.

“Y/N,” he cleared his throat, trying to calm down and explain himself better, “I understand how angry you are with me, but-”

“‘Angry’, huh?” She interrupted, not caring if she was being rude. In her eyes, he deserved it. “Really? ‘Angry’? Because I would say that I’m just a tad over angry. You know what? I’m livid. I am so extremely livid with you right now.”

Y/N was shaking, but Steve couldn’t tell if it was from her anger or from her sadness.

He stood in silence, just staring at her, taking in everything that he had been hopelessly missing for the past two years. Her hair was a tad longer, side bangs now adorning her face. Her style seemed to be pretty similar, just a bit more casual. Y/N was still the most beautiful person that he’d ever seen; somehow even more gorgeous than the day he met her.

“What, cat got your tongue?” She spoke, breaking him out of his trance. “Or are you just waiting until you get a free sec to write me another letter?”

Steve took a deep breath, trying to clear his thoughts, but still couldn’t find the right thing to say to her. There were no words in the English dictionary to describe just how guilty he felt.

But, he gave it a go anyways.

“Y/N, I am so, so, sorry for putting you through-”

“Wrong answer. Sorry, try again later.” She stated sternly, walking farther into the room to get away from him.

Steve grabbed her wrist again. “Y/N-”

“Stop... doing... that!” She almost shouted, pulling her arm from his hand once again. “You don’t get to just touch me like that anymore, Steve Rogers; touch me like everything is the same as it was, because it’s not!”

He nodded shakily. “Okay, babydoll, I’m sorr-”

“Don’t call me that either!” She demanded. “Stop! Just stop! For a matter of fact, get out! Now!” She pointed to the door, basically full on crying by now. “Just get the hell out of here! I was fine before you showed up. I don’t ever want to see you again!”

Her last statement broke Steve, and instead of going away, he took a step even closer to her.

“The hell I won’t get out! You are my wife, my love! Y/N, two years ago I made one of the dumbest mistakes of my life and left you behind. And yes, I know that I will never be able to make it up to you. But we made vows to stay with each other, even when times get tough, even when we don’t want to. I simply can’t find the words to describe how sorry I am. But, I can spend the rest of our lives trying.” He moved even closer. “If you only give me a chance, let me back in.”

Y/N sighed before letting out a heavy sob, moving a hand to her face to wipe the tears. “You don’t get it, Steve. One day I’m waking up in your arms and you’re talking to me about our amazing future together, and the next I’m getting handed a stupid letter from Tony! You didn’t even come to visit me either! You told me ‘See you soon’. ‘Soon’, Steve! Soon! Two years isn’t exactly soon!”

The man sighed, wanting nothing more than to make her feel better again. “Y/N, I was a criminal. I still am, for God’s sake! If I came here, and I got caught, you’d get in an unbelievable amount of trouble. I was just trying to-”

“Protect me, I know.” She completed his sentence, much quieter and with much less conviction than he would have. “But maybe this time I didn’t need your protection. I just needed you. I’ve needed you more in the past two years than I’ve ever needed you in the past six that I’ve known you. And you see,” she sobbed again, wiping her nose with her hand, “you told me. You told me, you told me, you told me that you would always be there for me. Always. Just like I was always there for you. God, look at me.” She glanced down at herself disgustedly. “I’ve been an idiot, sitting here for the past two years in my wedding ring, all alone. People started telling me to move on, Steve! To let you go, stop dwelling on you, but I didn’t! I just sat here and waited for you like I always do. And I want to hate you so bad but I can’t. I can’t because I love you so goddamn much and-”

Steve tried to end her heavy sobs by pulling her into his arms, but she resisted, pushing him away instead.

“Stop, Steve. Just sto-”

Y/N suddenly froze mid-word, the sound of a crying baby immediately making her tense up.

Steve furrowed his eyebrows. “What was that?”

The girl became jittery, completely terrified of what his react would be to the baby. “Uh, um...”

Steve started to walk towards the source of the noise, which happened to be the door in the back of the room that he was curious about earlier. “Was that a-?” He opened it up, just walking in without any invitation.

He paused as he took in the sight before him. Right in front of his eyes was a big white crib, with a little baby boy inside.

“Oh my god, Y/N...”

She tucked her hair behind her ears before nervously hugging herself, giving the man a shrug. “Surprise?”

Steve was at a loss for words. “Is that-? Is he-?”

Y/N picked up the child and let him rest on her hip, bouncing him in hopes to calm him down. She did it so nonchalantly that her husband began to imagine the possibilities of what it meant.

‘How often had she done this before?’ He thought to himself. ‘Does that mean...?’

“Steve,” Y/N spoke, slowly walking towards him, “there’s someone I want you to meet.”

“Wait a minute.” The man said, holding up a hand for her to stop. “Is he-? D-Does he... belong to you?”

Y/N gave him a slight smile; at least, as big of one as she could muster at the moment. “Well, I didn’t steal him.”

Steve audibly gulped, running a hand through his quite long hair. “Is he... i-is he... mine?”

Y/N slowly and nervously nodded her head, just waiting for him to explode with anger. “I’ve only ever... been with you, Steve.”

Once again, the man had no clue what to say. “I-I... oh my god, Y/N! Why didn’t you tell me?” He nearly shouted, though still careful of the baby’s ears.

“I found out right after you left!”

Steve was still so confused. “I gave you guys a phone for a reason, Y/N! To call in case there was an emergency. I think that being pregnant with my son is a pretty big emergency!”

The girl sighed, trying to blink away the tears that came from such a sensitive topic. “Steve, the moment I saw that phone, I knew that I was never going to call it! I, ugh, I wanted you to come back on your own terms! I wanted to see if I mattered enough to you!” She grabbed a tissue from the dresser, wiping her tears with her free hand. “If you came back to help me with the baby, I’d forever wonder if you really wanted to be there. How would I know if it was guilt or if it was love?”

Steve began to tear up as well, something so rare for him to do. “I-I, god, I understand that, Y/N. I really do. But you kept my kid from me. I at least deserved to know-”

“Woah, woah, woah, don’t try and twist the blame on me, Steve.” She interrupted. “You’re the one who left me, who left your wife!”

“You’re making it sound like I deliberately chose to say away from you, Y/N! You know that wasn’t the case!” He stated firmly, wanting her to understand his side of the story. “I did what I had to do to get by. I know that I made some horrible decisions, leaving you behind, but don’t act like I didn’t miss you too!” He sighed, hanging his head in defeat. “I thought about you every second of every goddamn day, Y/N.”

The girl sniffled, hugging her sleepy child closer to her. “Then why didn’t you come back sooner?”

“Sam and I have been trying to work something out, maybe an arrangement with the government, but things just got so complicated and... Y/N, I...”

“Whatever, Steve.” She shook her head, not wanting to fight anymore. “It’s too late now. You’re here, so, I don’t really care why you weren’t. It doesn’t change anything.”

“Can I hold him?” The man asked hopefully, wanting nothing more than to have been doing that the whole time. “Please, N/N?”

She nodded before carefully handing her child over to his father, watching the two of them interact for the very first time.

Steve took off his leather fingerless gloves before gently taking the baby in his arms, utterly and completely in awe. He instantly knew that just helping create this beautiful little boy was by far the greatest achievement of his life. He was sure of it right then and there.

“W-What’s his name?”

Y/N gulped before answering. “Anthony James Rogers.” She saw Steve’s confused face and decided to elaborate. “Tony and Rhodey really helped a lot these past couple years, and I did still want him to have your last name, so... ya. We call him A.J. for short.”

The man nodded, obviously thinking. “When’s his birthday?”

“January 6th, 2017.” Y/N stated, moving to pet her son’s soft and tiny head. “So he’s almost sixteen months. There’s been no signs of your old health issues yet, but no signs of the serum either. Tony said that those things can and kick in later though, so it’s good to look out for either side of the spectrum.”

Steve started to tear up once again, hating himself for missing so much. “I-It’s just a lot to take in, you know? I-I have a kid now. I-”

“Dadda cwy.”

Both Steve and Y/N went silent at A.J.’s words.

“H-How... how does he know-?” The man stuttered, touched to be called that by his son for the first time.

“Ever since I was pregnant, I made sure to let him hear videos of your voice, see pictures of your face. I’d wear some old clothes that smell like you, try to get him familiar in hopes that you’d come back. Even though you’re a bit unrecognizable now.” She chuckled.

Steve nodded once again, stroking the side of his son’s cheek. He was both so happy and so sad at the same time.

“I know how much you would’ve loved to have been here for all this.” Y/N sincerely said. “And believe me, Steve, I would’ve loved to have had you. He’s your son too, and I understand that it probably pains you to have missed so much. I guess I let my emotions cloud my judgment, and I am truly sorry. But come on... two years? Two whole years without seeing your wife, Steve? You can’t blame me for being enraged with you. I-I thought that I meant more...”

“You do mean more, I-”

Anthony suddenly began to cry again, signalling his mother that something was wrong.

“Oh goodness.” Y/N sighed, reaching out to take her child from Steve. “He’s probably hungry, I’m going to go get him some food.”

She began to walk herself and A.J. out of the room, but got stopped by the sound of her husband’s almost desperate voice.

“That’s it?” He spoke. “Can I at least do something? I know how hard you’ve been working. I’d love to help you.”

Y/N closed her eyes for a brief moment, loving to hear those words, only wishing that they would’ve come about two years earlier. “No, no, I’m fine. Go do your thing, save the world. It needs you more than I do anyways.”

Next Chapter

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[theateared]

It Doesn’t Matter. ❜

 Summary:  No more.

Warnings/Author’s notes:  Mentions of sexual abuse, mentions of forced conception.  All sensitive topics are treated with sensitivity and are cast in a wholly negative light.  This isn’t a kink-fic, nor a self-indulgent NSFW drabble like when I write Eddie/Grace content, this is important backstory for Grace, hence why I’ve written it and not shied away from certain details.  Thanks.

    It rarely ever stopped.

    When one lye was finished, another took their place, and the cycle continued.  She’d lost feeling in her body several days ago, her stare blank and empty as it remained glued to the sky. At night, she would stare at the stars and wish with all of her might to join them, to cut ties with her empty vessel and float aimlessly along the Astral Plane.  Not even laying eggs made her feel much anymore  -  and even though her heat cycle had finished a couple of weeks ago, making her incapable of conceiving children any longer, it wasn’t stopping them from using her.  

    That night was strange.  

    After the woman atop her had moved away, spitting on her face to finish, nobody else came. Gradually, Grace’s ears perked up, listening for the approaching footsteps, the dread in her stomach thick and heavy.

    Someone’s coming.  They always are.

    For the first time in weeks, Grace brought her legs together, closing them.  She was a small thing in her true form.  Her normally sleek black coat was ruffled and matted by her legs, a myriad of fluids soaking the fur until it had turned borderline solid.  Only when she was certain that nobody was coming did she dare to roll onto her front, the grass sounding all too loud to her alert ears.  Tired eyes fixed on the trees in front of her.

    I wish I could run into them.  I wish I could get up and not look back.

    Her heart stopped as she heard somebody coming towards her, body tense and frightened. However, they walked past without even looking at her.  I wonder where they’re going.  I wonder what order they’ve been given.  I’d kill to receive an order at this point  -  I’d do more than kill.

    The lye’s head slowly turned to the side to regard her fallen companions.  Those that had met a similar fate to her had either turned into unresponsive drones, died at the hands of those that abused them, or worse, turned into whores in heat.  That was the worst, Grace would argue. Previously well put together women begging for strangers to defile them--  to make her watch as they were surrounded and overpowered.  Though she tried to tell herself that it wasn’t personal, that these poor women had been broken, just like her, she couldn’t help but feel mortified by their taunts.

    Don’t act like you don’t love it, Grace!  This is what we’re made for!

    She turned away, unable to look any longer.  As much as she hated to admit it, her respect for these lyes was gone.  It wasn’t their fault.  They had simply snapped under the circumstances in a different way, but she still couldn’t find it in her to forgive them for the horrible things that they had said to her--  for the  depraved  things they had begged their abusers to do.

    I want to run.

    The forest was stared at out of the corner of her eye, then wholly.  Though she hadn’t moved from her position on the ground, it seemed much closer than before--  as if her willpower had tied a string around the earth and tugged it closer to her.

    Everything aches.  I don’t know if I can move.  I haven’t moved properly in weeks.  I’ve had children recently, so I’m weaker.

    Dear Raku, please have my children survive this.  Please God, take care of them.

    “Think she’s almost done.”

    The voice caught her attention, ear subtly flicking in its direction.  As she honed in on the conversation, she realised that Nyx  ( her current Alpha, by technicality  -  Grace had denounced her involvement with the creed privately several weeks ago but had not been in a position to do so officially )  and one of her hunters were talking.

    “Doesn’t even scream anymore.  She’s like a corpse.  Best to kill her.”

    “Don’t be so quick, Flit!”   Her voice makes me sick.   “She’s still of use.  She’s still alive, so she can still be bred.”

    “But she can’t lay more eggs until the next heat cycle.  What do we do with her until then?”

    Her Alpha laughed.  It was a shrill noise, as if she was about to explode from the hilarity of it all.   “Whatever we like!  You’re thinking of her as a lye, not as a possession.  That’s a dangerous thing to do.”

    Grace zoned out then, not content to listen to them any more.  She felt hurt and worthless, but most of all, she felt angry.  It started as an ember in her stomach;  a flicker of annoyance in the hollow dark, though as time went on, it became a wildfire.  In her mind’s eye, it tore down trees and burned this sorry creed alive.  It melted her Alpha’s flesh from her bones and buried her beneath a poetic heap of ash.  It charged her aching limbs, making her slowly rise from the ground on shaking legs, the movement discreet so as not to draw attention to herself.

    How could you do this to someone?  How dare you do this to someone?

    Her battered body protested against her weight, joints cracking, vision bleary and unfocused as she stared into the hole through the trees.  You’re not a toy, Grace.  You’re not a toy.  Are you going to let these lyes take your life?  Are you going to let this woman reduce you to nothing? She isn’t your Alpha, not really.  An Alpha wouldn’t hurt you like this.

    Then why have both of my Alphas been shitty people?

    You have to take care of yourself, Grace.  No.  More.

    She didn’t even think about it when she tore off.  Her desperate movement alerted both her Alpha and Flit, their heads snapping in her direction.  Traitor.  Don’t fucking look at me.

    “OI!”   It was all she heard as she darted into the trees.  She was slow to start--  or at least, what she would consider slow.  Her main skill was her speed and agility, and that had been so no matter where she had been.  In both of her creeds, she had always wound up a scout as opposed to anything else.  Her footwork was clean, beautiful, coveted even;  so much so that it could put world-famous ballet dancers to shame.  Everybody was replaceable, or so the idiom went, but she would bet a bitter cold’s worth of food that she could outfox most.

    It didn’t take long for sets of feet to register in her ears.

    They’re chasing me.  And if they catch me, I’m dead.

    She forced her legs to move quicker, for her brain to  wake up.  It had been a long time since she had moved at all, nevermind run for her life, and it was wearing her thin.  The only thing keeping her going was knowing that, if she didn’t, she’d wind up there again.  It would go back to how it was, she’d be nothing more than a sex doll  -  and that was if they didn’t kill her for attempting to run away.  The fact that being reduced to a toy again was her best outcome just made her run faster.

    Her ears gradually became attuned to her surroundings, senses guiding her through the dark. As she became accustomed to movement again, her footwork became more elaborate.  I have to throw them off.  I can’t run in a straight line.  

    She weaved through trees and ran through bushes, curling herself up trunks and flitting through branches as if she had wings and not legs.  She barely leapt aside as a hunter descended from above, sending him barrelling into a tree instead.  He hit it so hard that he didn’t get up again, lying motionless at its base, and Grace couldn’t help but laugh as she tore through the dark.  It was a crazed noise, one full of fear and fury, and it echoed around them as they ran.

    Shut up.  It’s keeping you on their radar.

    “You’re DEAD, bitch!  FUCKING DEAD!”

    Furiously,  she forced herself to pick up speed, charging straight into a thick fog.  It was a risky move, though she heard the briefest of hesitation before they continued to pursue her.  They didn’t want to go in there.  They didn’t want to compromise their sight even further.

    At some point, she stopped thinking.  Her brain switched into autopilot, carrying her seamlessly through landmarks and obstacles alike.  With her ears and nose fully focused on where she was going, it wasn’t too hard to manoeuvre, even in spite of the dark.  With the adrenaline coursing through her, each shot like a tsunami more powerful than the last, her tired body fell into the back of her mind.

    I refuse to fall back into your lap.  I won’t ever open my legs for you again.  You’ve already taken my children from me, and you’ve already stolen my honour  -  I will not let you keep it.  I’ll keep on running forever if it means you’ll never touch me again.

    She prepped herself to jump over a large ravine, body thin and small as she cleared the ten-foot-gap.  As she landed, she heard another lye jump after her.  Quickly, Grace turned, hacking up venom and spitting it into his face.  It landed straight in his eye, and it sent his body off-kilter. What would have been a clean landing turned into an aimless plummet as he missed the edge of the cliff, tumbling into the gap below.  If he hit the bottom, she didn’t stick around to hear it, her pace picked up immediately.

    I’m so tired…  I need to rest…  I need to stop...

    But she couldn’t stop.  She ran until she was sure she’d turned in a circle;  until the undergrowth she was hurtling through looked very much the same as it had half an hour ago; until the roar of water entered her ears and drowned out the sound of footfalls.

    “Is she crazy?!  She’s headed for No-Man’s Bluff!”

    “Don’t stop!  Either she runs into the woodland again or she jumps to her death.”

    She ran towards the light of the moon, tiny form illuminated as she emerged from the trees. Ahead of her was a curious sight:  a formation of rocky cliffs and narrow streams, all arranged in some sort of circular foundation.  In the middle, a single jagged cliff jutted up and outwards, overlooking an eerie pit of nothing.  It was hard to describe just how cavernous the darkness was.  If there was a bottom to the gaping chasm, it wasn’t apparent.

    Grace wasted no time, darting across uneven terrain with little difficulty, weaving between rocks and jumping over small rivers.  Even moving as quickly as she was, she noticed that some of the gaps weren’t full of water;  instead, a small amount laid along the bottom, spilling into other, much smaller crannies.

    If I could somehow just slip inside of one and wait…

    The footsteps behind her were getting slower.  The unpleasant landscape made it difficult to place their feet without tripping, stumbling into rivers and slipping along smooth rock.  The water had polished it over time;  corroded it steadily until it was a composition quite reminiscent of ice.

    “She’s getting away…!”

    Nyx growled to herself, watching helplessly as Grace vanished behind a tall pillar of rock.

    “She’s headed into the forest on the other side.  Once we clear this bluff, it’ll be fine.”   After a moment, she levelled Flit with a hard look, one of utmost sobriety.   “You’d best catch her.  Or you’re in trouble.”   You didn’t get your name for nothing.  Don’t you dare disappoint me now.

    Grace paused for a moment, scanning her surroundings quickly.  The roar of water so close to her drowned everything out, made it easier to think.  I have to be quick, but I have some time. Hastily, she followed a crack in the ground, internally rejoicing as it widened.  The further she walked, the further it opened, and she found a spot where she was able to squeeze herself through.  Her body wriggled and writhed, getting wet on the way down, though eventually she was inside of the crevice.  She squirmed in an effort to turn around, attempting to cover as much of herself in water as possible.

    I want my scent masked as much as it can be.  It’ll be bad if they find me down here.  There’s nowhere for me to run.  I can barely move.

    When she was sure she’d done all she could, she waited with bated breath.  She could only pray that they would assume she had darted into the forest.  Why would she stay there anyway? As far as they were concerned, this was a stepping stone from point A to point B;  a means of getting to a place much more eligible to hide in.

     I can’t keep running.  I’m exhausted.  If I picked running into the forest, it wouldn’t have been long until my body gave up on me.  I’m not in a good condition.  Adrenaline can only do so much.

    The stress of it all began to weigh on her.  How did my life wind up like this?  I know what I thought a few times while this was happening to me:  that I wouldn’t mind  dying  if it meant escaping it…  but I don’t want to die.  I want to live.  Hot tears gathered in her blackened eyes, and a paw went up to cover her mouth, caging the sobs inside.  Not yet.  I’ll die if they hear me.

    She barely held back a gasp as Nyx passed over the crack she was lodged inside.  Her ears strained to hear over the sound of water, only a few words audible.

    …  trail’s gone cold…  didn’t see her…  get to it…  gone ahead…

    She waited for what felt like years, staring blankly ahead of her until the sky began to change, until the sun began to rise, until the birdsong became audible above the rippling stream.  Do I dare move?  What if they’ve waited for me?  What if they circle back and I wind up running straight into them?

    But she knew that she couldn’t stay  there

    After a few minutes, Grace forced herself out of the hole, wriggling much like a worm through the narrow space until she was able to claw herself out.  When she emerged, it was with a grunt of exhaustion, wet body collapsing forward onto the rock beneath her as her mind reeled.

    Oh God, oh God, oh God…

    She didn’t get to choose whether the tears in her eyes welled up or not.  They just did.  Before she could even think to smother it, she was wailing into the silence, her cries filling the pit that sat mere metres away from her as she emptied her sorrows into the void space.  Part of her felt uncontrollable;  like she could get up and hurl herself headfirst into the darkness below, and she wouldn’t mind if she never reached the bottom.  Thankfully  ( or perhaps un-thankfully, depending on who was asked  ),  her rational side outweighed the primal desire to send herself plummeting to her death.

    If I do that, that means my survival was for nothing.  Why run from death only to kill myself?

    Angrily, she dragged a paw across her face, ridding her eyes of tears.  I won’t cry.  I won’t cry ever again.  I already did so much of that in that creed, and now I’m free.  Without thinking, her claws sank into the place that Nyx had signed her, a congregation of pin-pricks by her neck, scraping over the teeth marks with vitriol.  A stuttered gasp left her, one full of both pain and pride, blood mixing with the water that made her fur heavy.

    It hurts…  it hurts so bad but it hurts so good too.  I don’t belong to you anymore.  Even if I can never get rid of your mark on my own entirely, I can keep scratching at it until my self-made wounds overwrite your signature.  I’ll craft my own meaning.  It doesn’t matter.  I don’t need an Alpha.

    I don’t need an Alpha.

    I DON’T   N E E D   AN ALPHA.

    She headed east that foggy November morning, even though she’d never headed east in her life.

[skepticalcatfrog]

Shattered Crown Chapter 6

First Chapter Previous Chapter Next Chapter Masterpost

Summary: After disaster strikes in Prince Roman's kingdom, he must go on a quest in order to take back the crown that is rightfully his. He will travel with three companions on an epic adventure, gaining many friends and enemies along the way. Those three companions are an intelligent inventor with a mysterious past, a cheerful wizard with a dark secret, and.. the assassin who was sent to kill him two years prior.

Pairings: (Eventual) Prinxiety and Logicality

Word count: 3,029

Author's Notes: I'm sorry for how long this took! I went through a huge writers block in the middle of writing it, but it's finally done! I've got some big stuff planned for the next chapter, so this one is just kind of a filler chapter.

After the incident in Shadowbrook, none of them were particularly in the mood to sleep, but they had to if they were going to keep traveling. They found a place to sleep for the night (except for Virgil, he didn't sleep) and packed their stuff back up in the morning so they'd be able to travel with the most sunlight.

There was a bandage on the cut across Roman's face. Patton had helped him patch it up after they'd found a place to camp. Logan's hand still wasn't in perfect working condition, but he just used his other hand and hoped no one asked him about it.

It was a pleasant trip, really, which distracted from the distance. They all knew that the walk alone would take at least two days, maybe more depending on any obstacles they might come across. Not to mention that they had another, even longer trip to go on after that, then a third one after that.

Suddenly Roman seemed to remember something. He pulled Virgil's mask off and held it out to him.

"I forgot to give this back to you."

"Oh… thanks." Virgil took the mask and pulled it over his head so it hung around his neck. He immediately noticed that it smelled like the prince, then wondered how he knew what his companion smelled like.

"No problem." Roman smiled. Virgil couldn't help but think about how nice his smile was, but quickly pushed down the thoughts. He was just being stupid. Both of them were, really.

"I think it might rain soon." Logan tried to point to the sky with his mechanical hand, but only made it halfway through the gesture before it made an awful sound, like metal scraping against metal. He winced, and Patton looked concerned.

"Are you okay, Logan?" He asked, stepping slightly closer to him.

"Yes, I'm fine." Logan said, slightly more aggressively than he'd intended. He saw Patton shrink away from him and he immediately felt bad. "I'm… sorry. For the outburst. But I assure you, I am fine."

Patton nodded to show he understood, but didn't say anything more.

Sure enough, as Logan predicted, a couple minutes later it started raining. It started out as just a drizzle, but soon elevated to a full-on storm. They could hear thunder crackling, and saw lightning lighting up the dark clouds in the sky. They decided that maybe it would be best to take a break from walking until the storm subsided.

They quickly set up a makeshift tent, so they'd have at least a little shelter, even if it was only a cloth held up by a couple of sticks. It was a bit of a tight fit, but at least it was something. Patton had managed to stay mostly dry, because he had his hat. But Roman and Virgil's cloaks were soaked and we're starting to get heavy, and the rain definitely wasn't good for Logan's arm. He tried to move his fingers, to no avail. He opened up a panel to reveal the wiring in his hand and tried to fix it, which only made sparks come from the machinery. He immediately pulled his real hand away. The sudden sparks definitely surprised the others too, especially Patton, who doubted that Logan was actually fine in the first place.

"So… are we just going to wait here until the rain dies down?" Virgil was the first to move on from the situation.

"I guess so, I mean what else are we supposed to do?" Roman responded. He took off his cloak and folded it up, placing it on his lap.

"Yeah, true." Patton nodded. "We're kind of stuck in here."

"Unfortunately." Logan grumbled, reluctantly closing the panel on his hand. Patton looked slightly disheartened at his comment.

Roman slicked back his hair so it wasn't in his face. Virgil cursed internally as he found himself thinking about how smooth and elegant the motion was. How was it that someone he found unbearably annoying could be so… so… he didn't even know how to describe it, that's how strange it was. His fluffy, wavy hair, how it was just the right color to match his eyes, and the way it always seemed to fall perfectly. His beautiful eyes, and how they seemed to change from amber to gold in the sunlight. His adorable freckles that were scattered across his nose like stars. Virgil noticed all of these things about him that he hadn't seen the last time, and he absolutely despised himself for it. He wasn't in love, not at all. It wasn't possible. And even if he was (which he assured himself he wasn't), it would never work out anyway. Roman was a prince, and Virgil was just… Virgil.

Meanwhile, similar to how Virgil was driving himself crazy over Roman, Patton was driving himself crazy over Logan. Maybe he did love him. He hadn't even given it a thought before that woman from the shop had pointed it out, but now it was all he could think about. But even if he was in love with Logan, he knew it would never work out. Logan was too good for him. And besides, he wouldn't want anything to do with him if he found out about… no. He was just putting himself down again, and he couldn't do that. Maybe he still had a chance? That was definitely a strong maybe, one way or another.

He took the pocket watch from his jacket, just to look at it. The pattern on the front was intricate, the material looking like bronze, maybe even gold.

"Where did you get that, Patton?" He was pulled out of his thoughts by Logan's voice. "The craftsmanship is amazing. Do you mind if I look at it a bit closer?"

Logan went to take the watch, and Patton was abruptly reminded of the note he'd put inside it.

"No!" Patton replied quickly, pulling the watch away. Logan looked slightly startled. "I mean… it's very important to me. I'd rather just keep it."

"Oh… okay." The inventor was clearly disappointed, which made Patton's heart break a little bit.

"It's not that I don't trust you with it…" He placed his hand on Logan's shoulder. Logan looked over at him and nodded in understanding. He didn't finish the sentence aloud, but looking into Logan's eyes, he knew exactly what he would've said. It's just that I'm afraid of what you'll say when I give it to you.

After at least a couple hours of waiting for the rain to stop, they could finally begin traveling once again. They'd all had time to dry off as well, so their clothes were no longer wet and uncomfortable. They folded up the cloth they'd been using as a tent and discarded the sticks they'd been using to hold it up.

At that point it was at least midday, possibly a bit past that, but it wasn't night yet. They still had daylight, which meant they could still keep going.

Virgil took one of the shadow blades out of its sheath as they walked. He realized that he'd never really gotten a chance to look at them since he stole them. They were beautiful, really. If you looked closely, you could see that the actual blade of it looked almost cracked, even though it wasn't. The silver pattern looked like vines crawling halfway up the dagger. The shadow blades were the nicest weapons he'd ever used, he had no doubt about that.

They walked for a couple more hours, waiting until the sun had set entirely before setting up camp again. This time they actually set up the tents, rather than doing the temporary shelter they'd used during the rain. Unfortunately, they only had two tents.

"So… how are we supposed to do this?" Roman asked, looking at the two tents in front of them.

"Anyone have a coin?" Virgil asked, glancing at the other three. "We could flip a coin."

"I think I might, hold on." Logan looked around in his satchel for a moment before taking out a small copper coin and handing it to Virgil.

"Okay, so this one's heads and that one's tails." Virgil gestured to the left and right tents respectively. "I'll go first."

He stepped forward slightly and flipped the coin. It landed on tails.

"Tails. I'm in the right tent." He told them. He went to his tent and began unpacking his stuff.

A few moments later, everyone had gotten their tents. Suddenly, Virgil heard someone knock on the door of the tent, and he knew exactly who it was immediately. There was only one idiot who would try to knock on the door of a tent.

"Looks like we're together." Roman stepped into the tent, smiling that annoyingly attractive smile that made Virgil want to punch him right in the face.

"Yup, guess we are." Virgil muttered.

These were the sleeping arrangements for the rest of the trip. That meant that he'd have to deal with the prince's stupid beautiful everything for at least a week.

He was totally screwed.

~~~

Meanwhile, in the other tent, Logan and Patton were getting along just fine. They'd unpacked all their stuff and organized it, making sleeping areas for both of them. Now they were just talking.

Of course, Patton had noticed the malfunctions in Logan's arm, and was curious.

"Do you have any idea why it's not working?" He asked.

"I do, but… I'd rather not share it right now. The past is a bit of a… sensitive topic for me." Logan responded. "Apologies."

"No, that's totally fine. You don't have to tell me. I get it, really." Patton admitted.

Logan just stared at him, dumbfounded. He was expecting the usual 'Come on, tell me' or 'It can't be that bad' that he got from people. He had never taken the time to consider that not everyone would insist on hearing his life story (which he never told anyone anyway). He had never realized how extremely considerate Patton was. While he was on the topic of noticing things about Patton, the wizard's eyes were the most beautiful shade of brown he'd ever seen. It contrasted perfectly with his light hair color. And he had a small scar above his eyebrow. Logan wondered what it was from, but knew better than to ask. Patton had freckles all over his face, and likely on the rest of his body as well because he had freckles on his hands. His round glasses magnified his eyes a good bit, but not too much. He looked like an adorable owl. Also, aside from physical attributes, he was kind, and sweet, and patient, and understanding, and considerate, and just pleasant to be around. And the way he looked at Logan made his heart flutter… wait, was he in love? Was this what love felt like? Well, it certainly was a theory.

"Hello? Earth to Logan?" Logan was snapped out of his thoughts by Patton waving a hand in front of his face. "You spaced out for a second there, is something wrong?"

"No, I'm alright. I was just thinking." Logan shook his head.

"About what?" Patton smiled brightly, clearly interested in what the inventor had to say. Logan could practically feel himself blushing.

"Nothing important really."

"Oh come on, everything you think about is important!" Patton nudged Logan's arm gently.

"Falsehood." He deadpanned.

"It's true though! You're so smart!" Patton told him sincerely.

Logan felt his blush intensify, so he felt the immediate urge to change the subject.

"We should probably get some rest." He said quickly.

"Oh…" Patton became aware again of how dark it was outside. "Yeah, you're right, it's getting kind of late." He nodded.

"Goodnight, Patton." Logan reached to turn off the little lantern they had for light.

"Goodnight, Lo." Patton closed his eyes and curled up under his blanket. Logan did the same, and soon they were both asleep.

The next morning, Logan woke up to someone hugging him. Patton had rolled over to Logan's side of the tent in his sleep. The wizard had his arms wrapped around Logan's ribs, and his head tucked under his chin. He was still fast asleep, and Logan could hear him snoring softly. Now, Logan being in love with Patton was just a theory.

But if that theory wasn't correct, he didn't know what it was.

~~~

Virgil hadn't slept that night again. He never did, it's not like it wasn't normal. He'd just been killing time all night. And in this time, he made an interesting discovery. He found out that Roman talked in his sleep. Nothing understandable, mostly just nonsense.

A couple hours later, Roman slowly woke up as well. His hair was an absolute mess, but somehow Virgil still thought he looked adorable. Somehow.

"Do you know what time it is?" The prince asked, rubbing his eyes.

"No, I don't." Virgil shook his head.

"Oh, right, no clocks." Roman laughed sleepily. Virgil felt butterflies in his stomach at the quiet laugh and silently told them to shut up. "Except for that one that Patton has that he won't let anyone touch. I wonder what the deal is with that thing."

"No idea. From what I know, Patton doesn't have any secrets." Virgil shrugged. "Hang on, your hair is bothering me. Come here."

"Why do you care about my hair?" Roman smirked, leaning back and resting on his elbows.

"Shut up, Princey." Virgil pulled up his mask to cover his blush. Roman just laughed and leaned over to Virgil, bending his head down.

"You can still fix my hair… if you want to, I mean." He told him. "I wouldn't be able to do it myself, with no mirrors."

"Oh- um- yeah, sure." Virgil uncovered his face and hesitantly brushed his fingers through Roman's hair.

It was exactly as soft as he'd expected it to be. He chose to ignore the fact that he'd thought about that. It wasn't necessarily tangled, just messy. He fixed Roman's hair quickly, wanting to get it over with as fast as possible to prevent any and all signs of affection. Which were most definitely non-existent. His heart totally wasn't overflowing with useless love and affection for this stupid idiot. What are you talking about.

"Thanks." Roman smiled at him. "As I said, couldn't have done it without you."

"Yeah, yeah, no problem." Virgil looked away from Roman, pulling the mask over his face again.

Roman noticed that Virgil did that whenever he was embarrassed. The only mystery was, why would he be embarrassed? It was just a favor from a friend. But then again, Virgil had been acting differently towards him lately. Almost like he was nervous about being around him. Oh no, did Virgil hate him again? He thought he'd made so much progress in their friendship, how was that even possible? On the other hand, why did Roman care so much about what Virgil thought of him? Why did he care so much about the guy who tried to kill him? Well… he'd changed since then. A lot. Was it possible that maybe… Roman had a little bit of a crush on Virgil? Oh god, did he have a crush on someone who hated him? Was he trying to set himself up for failure? Clearly that was the case, otherwise he wouldn't feel that way.

"You're stressing yourself out about something, I can tell." Virgil narrowed his eyes slightly. "What is it?"

"Nothing!" He replied, maybe a little bit too quickly. Virgil rolled his eyes, shaking his head.

"Fine, if you don't want to talk about it, whatever I guess."

"Don't get me wrong, It's not that I don't want to talk to you about it. I like you- I mean, not like, like you," He was lying when he said that. He for sure like, liked him. "But I think you're a nice guy. I'd like to talk to you more, just not… about… this." He knew he was totally making a fool of himself.

Virgil just laughed. He also knew that Roman was making a fool of himself.

"This isn't funny!" Roman crossed his arms, frowning slightly.

Virgil tried to calm down his laughter, catching his breath. "No, yeah, I know, it's just… I'm so used to seeing you so composed and elegant and stuff. It's kind of funny to see you so flustered about something."

"Yeah, okay, that's fair." Roman admitted. "So, should we see how Logan and Patton are doing?"

~~~

After the embarrassing moment when Patton woke up, and many flustered explanations, Logan and Patton managed to make it out of their tent. They made some food and ate breakfast, then just waiting for Roman and Virgil to get up. When they did finally wake up, Logan and Patton listened to their entire conversation, trying to hold back laughter the whole time. They could tell that their friends had something going on, even if they didn't realize it themselves.

The inventor and the wizard packed up their tent, and waited for Roman and Virgil to come out and do the same. Once they did decide to exit their tent, Patton gave them some food. Then they collapsed their tent as well, and the group got on the road again.

They traveled all day, slept at night, and traveled for a couple hours the next day after that, until they came to another kingdom.

This one, as opposed to the dark quietness of Shadowbrook, seemed loud and busy. They couldn't see the actual inside of the kingdom, because the gate at the front was a solid wall. It was golden, and the rest of the walls surrounding the kingdom were made of some sort of blue stone. They immediately knew it was Caeruleum.

"So… let's go in, I guess." Virgil looked at the towering gate in front of them.

"Yeah… let's." Roman agreed. Patton walked up to the gate and unlocked it just like he had in Shadowbrook, and they entered the kingdom. Each of them were ready to find what they were looking for, whatever that might be.

[najikasunart]

@someguywearingametalmask asked:  Alphyne with 18? <3

18 - A Kiss for Encouragement

(tw for suicidal thoughts, depression/anxiety, impulsive actions, and general hard/sensitive topics.)

           [are u still up]

           [Yea, just got home.  You ok?]

           [no]

           [Gimme five mins and Ill be there.  Lab right?]

           [yea]

           Alphys put her phone face-down on the work desk and wiped her eyes with the back of her trembling hand, skin cold and head throbbing.  She forced out as slow a breath as she could manage, which was approximately as slow as a marathonist after a 5k run.  Every part of her felt heavy, especially in her chest and in her limbs, as if they were all made of the same goopy material as the things living deep in the secret lab.

           Which was where she was currently huddled, uncoincidentally.  She knew things were difficult right now, as the Underground only needed collect only one more human soul before the barrier could be broken.  Escape was within their grasp, a feasible goal and a foreseeable future, which under any other circumstances would have had Alphys motivated to continue her research through the many bumps in the road.

           Unfortunately, though, Alphys had never been a very emotionally stable monster to begin with, let alone having to contain and manage somewhere between four and eight terrifying amalgamations she created out of the dying bodies of her kind.  The weight of this secret was enough to force her to the garbage dump most days, away from her work and away from the heavy, heavy weight of her mistakes.  Garbage was her element, after all.  She felt like she belonged with it.  Like she could be herself there.

           Though after some thought, she was sure the garbage could at least manage not to accidentally kill, revive, liquefy, and congeal other monsters.

           Perhaps the garbage was better off living there in Waterfall.

           Alphys snapped her attention back to her lab after hearing pounding on the metal doors of her lab.  She was a few floors under it at the moment, but the sheer force behind Undyne’s door knocking could be heard from anywhere.  She knocked hard enough to send vibrations down the walls of the true lab, her voice almost entirely obscured, but not quite.  Alphys heard Undyne scream her name twelve times or so before anything registered in her mind at all.

           Wow, you’ve outdone yourself, Alphys, she thought.  This is even more pathetic than usual, calling her over and then ignoring her completely.

           What a worthless life you live.

           Alphys couldn’t bring herself to rise out of the swiveling desk chair, not now.  Her body was too heavy and her head hurt too much and everything was spinning out of control and she was stuck here like a chewed wad of gum on the underside of a school desk.  Even just grasping for her phone felt like all the bones in her arm had been replaced with lead ones.

           But she persisted, refusing to give up entirely just yet.  Undyne didn’t deserve that.  Undyne didn’t deserve to be led here for nothing, Undyne didn’t need to—

           [go thru the bathroom door]

           One more text…

           [its an elevator]

           Put down the phone.  No more of that heaviness.

It’s time for a whole new heaviness, one named Guilt.  Guilt likes to rear its hideous, disgusting head anytime anyone else got involved with these mistakes.  These horrific failures that drove Alphys deeper and deeper into her lab and her isolation and her mind.

Because the only reason you even make mistakes in the first place is because you try too hard to make friends, isn’t it?  You just want to be somebody else who lives a life where everybody loves them because they’re normal, and good, and they don’t even have to try to have lots of friends, or to fall in unconditional love, or to succeed at the one thing they’re even good at in the first place. And look at yourself now, you’re surrounded by garbage and taking care of zombies to avoid telling the truth.

You’re a failure.

Blink.

You shouldn’t have let her in.

Blink.

If you care about your future, then leave.

And don’t come back.

***

“Alphyyyyys!!  Alphys, where are you!?”  Undyne shouted frantically, cursing as the elevator slowly descended.  She had no idea where she was going, but if Alphys wouldn’t answer her phone and this was the only lead she had, she would follow it to the other end of the entire Underground.  Having known Alphys through times both thick and thin (mostly thin, she mentally noted, with a burst more anxiety), and having grown closer to her in all her dumb, nerdy glory, Undyne was extremely concerned receiving these vague and almost cryptically simple texts.

The last time she felt this worked up over Alphys was the first time they’d met, with Alphys standing on the very edge of the garbage dump waterfall, just staring into the endless abyss below, watching the trash cascade down with the dirty water.  She’d never seen someone else look that hopeless before, and she’d watched humans die in front of her.  It seemed…more intense in someone who wasn’t fighting for their life.  It was almost like it was the opposite, really. A longing to end it, instead of a striving to protect it.

It was that thought that spurred Undyne to move a bit faster, determined to break her five-minute promise in exchange for a faster arrival.

She arrived in three and a half.

The elevator grinded noisily to a halt on the only other floor available, the basement that Undyne didn’t know existed.  She supposed Alphys did need more room to do whatever sciencey stuff she did, but something this expansive (and dusty…) was unexpected.  Undyne puffed out her chest and exited the elevator, filled with an intense determination to find Alphys, wherever she was in this eerie basement laboratory.

Undyne ran her hand along the wall to try and find a light switch, cursing when she couldn’t.  She reluctantly decided to stick to the right-hand wall.  It couldn’t lead her in circles that way, and though it would take longer, she knew it would be effective at getting her furthest into the lab.  She wanted to say she wasn’t afraid of anything right now, she truly did, but she was afraid of being too late.  So she kept moving, step by sticky step.

A few right turns in, her eyes only just adjusted to the dim light only assisted by the dull green glow of mounted screens, Undyne heard the unfamiliar crunch of glass under her boots.  She attempted to step over it, but her efforts were in vain, as the glass continued to splinter for another few paces before Undyne could move forward a bit more stealthily.  Everything save for the occasional metallic groan and her own footsteps was silent.  

The floors only grew stickier, the walls too, and the bits of glass grew in quantity, along with something softer that stuck to the bottom of the soles of Undyne’s shoes.  The rooms smelled of dust and something vaguely sweet, and mirrors appeared just as often as science supplies did this far in.  As much as Undyne wanted to call out for Alphys, she felt it was too dangerous to do that – Alphys could get hurt if she was startled, right?

Upon removing another sticky something from the sole of her shoe – a flower petal, she discovered, how weird – Undyne took a step back to find whatever plant she’d just accidentally decimated.  However, when her body shifted backwards again, it bumped into something.

Something solid.

Well, almost solid.

Undyne gasped and launched herself forwards, away from whatever’s path she’d inadvertently crossed, and summoned a magical spear.  The blue light pierced through the hallway (Way to go, Undyne, she thought, you could’ve saved all this time using magic) and she was face-to-probably-face with something that was definitely not a monster.  She took another quick few steps back, holding her spear out in front of her in defense, when she saw the thing shift – lurch – towards her, sputtering out a gurgled moan into the dark room.

Undyne did not hesitate to summon a circle of spears around the beast to contain it.  Her reflexes victorious, the hulking being slammed into the spears, but stayed put.  The noise was sure enough to alert Alphys, but if this thing was in the lab, it could also belong to her.  Undyne decided running was a safer bet here, and continued following the righthand wall, spear lighting the way just enough to make out the cracked linoleum flooring.  And as she ran, she began shouting again, shouting for Alphys, hoping to hear a shout back, a voice, a noise; anything at all would have relieved Undyne, but how she did find Alphys was somehow worse than anything she could have imagined.

“Alphys…” Undyne breathed out, spear slipping from her grip as she took a few careful steps forward, towards the lump in the old swivel chair, hunched over in front of five different computer screens.  “Alphys, are you—”

“Stop,” Alphys responded tersely, nerves making even her strongest voice sound weak.  “I-I’m sorry, but…I shouldn’t have—I shouldn’t have called you here.”

Undyne looked confused, and attempted to keep her rough voice low. “What’s that supposed to mean? There’s obviously something going on, your texts are—”

“Yeah, I-I know.  My texts are a mess, I’m—nothing’s working out right now, and you don’t need to-to get involved, I’m sorry…” Alphys stumbled over her words as tears welled up in her eyes, her head resting in her folded arms upon her desk.  She took a quick breath.  “I freaked out, it’s just the same as always.”

Undyne walked a little closer, perhaps to try and soothe the heavy feeling in her limbs.

“Look, Alphys…if you were freaking out, then it’s gotta be coming from somewhere.  And if you can’t tell me about it, then I can’t really do anything about it, right?”

“Nobody can do anything about it now,” Alphys mumbled glumly into the desk.  Teardrops were balancing on the lenses of her glasses.

“Does it have to do with that thing in the lab?” Undyne asked, mentally cursing herself seconds after the question left her mouth.

Alphys nodded but said nothing.  Embarrassment was radiating out like steam, eyes watering and face on fire; she was sitting here crying and wallowing in muddy self-hatred while Undyne was right there!  Was this fishing for compliments?  Or rather, fishing for company?  Fishing for an escape from a problem that couldn’t be solved anymore?  Alphys shook as she took in another breath and fought to steady herself, to make herself look anything like what one would expect from the Royal Scientist.

“This—hhhgk, this is…I’m sorry, sorry, Stars above, I—this is so bad, I-I messed up, but I can’t-I can’t do anything about it, and neither can you, and-and neither could the king, or anybody, okay…?”

Alphys swore aloud to herself and lifted herself up just enough to toss her glasses to the side of her desk and hide her face in her hands, holding her breath to try and refrain from scaring Undyne away by bursting into tears right as she walked inside.  As soon as she began to spit out apologies again, though, she found herself being lifted under her arms from her desk chair and carried out of her study. Alphys didn’t move her hands from her face, didn’t move her body at all, hardly breathed until she was eventually put back down onto something soft.  Even after that, she didn’t move.  It was too hard to move, too hard to look, too hard to take in the world right now.

***

           When Alphys awoke, she found herself in her bedroom, under the covers of her bed.  She looked to her nightstand, put on her glasses, and sat slowly up.  Her body ached, her face felt sticky, and it took a few moments for her to remember exactly what she was doing before she fell asleep.  Though, her memory was soon jogged by the fact that Undyne’s boots were next to her door…

           …attached to Undyne, who was leaning against the door, sleeping.

           Alphys blinked twice before she put the pieces together and gasped sharply, quickly covering her mouth with both hands in hopes that she would not wake Undyne.  However, Undyne rose almost immediately afterwards, her reflexes and instincts that of a true warrior.  There was a brief moment where neither one said anything, and only stares served to convey any clarity to the other.  Finally, Undyne got up, stretched both arms in the air like she was punching the sky, and walked over to Alphys’ bedside.

           Still, Alphys said nothing.  It was a moment where she felt immobilized in her own body, a rare moment where anxiety didn’t just mess her up, it froze her entirely.  But she wasn’t afraid – she was just watching Undyne come over, sitting in her bed with a tearstained face and puffy eyes and crooked glasses, her mind perfectly still for once in her life.  It felt almost freeing.

           It felt especially freeing once Undyne leaned down, placed one hand on Alphys’ shoulder, and pressed her lips to Alphys’ forehead.  That moment seemed to simultaneously a lifetime and a split second before Undyne pulled Alphys into a close hug, tight but gentle, and Alphys felt her hair draped over her arm, and everything suddenly came to a quietus from all stimuli. Everything disappeared, silenced, and dissipated, except for her. Except for Undyne.

           Alphys felt her arms wrap around Undyne’s back and her claws dig into the fabric of Undyne’s top.  Undyne whispered something she didn’t quite understand and Alphys closed her eyes.  Not that it really mattered right now.  Time stopped, life stopped, color stopped, stressors stopped, everything stopped. And it was perfect like that, frozen in the chronosystem, where nothing needed fixing and no one needed saving.

           Alphys tightened the hug, and when she opened her eyes, they were full of hope.

[anodyne-sunflower]

Love me like you do (Part 20)-Balem series

A/N: yeah…I took longer than expected lol I’m sorry. Anyway, here we are! Part 20, damn. To those still into this series thank you for sticking by it for so long! It’s my favorite one of my series, and I truly hope y'all have enjoyed it thoroughly. There is a small timeskip in this to help push the plot quicker for me lol To get to the more important parts, I swear. Enjoy!

MOOD MUSIC: Nothing left to say by Imagine Dragons

***

The silence between you two was unnerving, and though you wished to escape this moment there was little you could do. He was still close to you, breath heavy with wine lingering over your lips. He seemed angry, but he barely made a sound before he kept his gaze on you and pulled back. He sank into his chair, reaching for another glass since he shattered the last one in his fit of rage. And as if nothing had just occurred between you both he simply poured himself another glass and took a casual sip. The whole while keeping his eyes trained on you. Words escaped you, because you were sure nothing you said would make him happy now. For whatever his reasons, he wasn’t keen on parting with you just yet and that’s what caused even more turmoil to build within your heart.

“You can’t keep me here forever.”

It was more of a question, the way you said it. And while his threat had made it evident that he fully intended to try, you still couldn’t believe he’d suggest such a notion. Was it really worth all the trouble of having you around? Was he that infatuated with your current arrangement that he’d simply force you to stay? None of it made much sense to you. In fact, by now he should’ve been invested in another woman if history was anything to go by. But, he clung to you. For a moment it gave you hope, and if you were being completely honest with yourself, fear. Because, you couldn’t imagine him loving someone. So if he needed you by him, how much heartache was in your future to have to put up with it.

“You have no idea who you’re talking to.”

His threatening words alarmed you, and you glanced up at him for once during this conversation. For someone who managed to gain more than your affections, he was doing a wonderful job of making you question it.

“Balem-”

“Enough.” He gave you a stern look, signaling that he was done with this topic. You knew badgering him would get you nowhere, but the more he brushed you off the angrier you felt towards him. The legs of your chair scraped loudly against the floor as you stood, ready to be out of this aggravating man’s presence. There were many times he caused a slew of emotions to rage in you, but this time you felt it was far too much. You may have found yourself out of place here, but you were not void of dignity.

“I am not yours to do with as you please!”

At least your outburst captured enough of his attention for him to settle his wine glass down. But, that devilish glint in his green eyes was enough to make you tremble. You may have gotten on his nerves now and then, but this was by far the worst you’ve ever seen him. With his lips tightened in a thin line, he glared your way, and just when you went to move passed him he latched onto your forearm and tugged you harshly back.

Balem all but shoved you into the wall, rough enough to make you gasp but gentle enough to leave you otherwise unharmed. But, that didn’t make you feel any better about this situation. There was a fire in his eyes like none you’ve ever witnessed in a man. His stare alone could make the world’s greatest armies crumble into nothing at his feet. However, it was his tone that ate away you. So frightfully laced in a madness that had his fingers tightening their grip upon your arm.

“This is not a game, Y/N.”

Your heart nearly stopped, his haunting voice making your name sound like a threat of its own. He had never once called you by it to your face, and though you longed for him to have done so you now fully regretted that wish. It sounded nothing short of a heated passion, one that made you part your lips to release the nervous breath you had been holding.

His nose brushed yours, the proximity of his body only adding to your uneasiness. You never once took your gaze from him, wanting to show him that regardless of his intimidation you would never falter. Even though every nerve in your body told you otherwise.

“You’re right. It’s not.” You asserted, trying to keep the tremble from your voice. To love a man like him was a dangerous attachment, and the closer he stood only made you more aware of that point. Although, you already found yourself hooked to him and nothing you thought or said could change that. Perhaps that was the most alarming part of loving him. How much were you willing to forgive in order to allow yourself the freedom of giving in to your heart’s desires? “So let me make this easy for you-” A risk, a huge one. But, you needed it to be said and done. If Balem wanted you, in whatever way, you were to be the one to decide that. “If I can’t go back to earth, then let me make this perfectly clear for you.”

Balem sneered at that, his hand inching dangerously up your arm until he rested it over your neck. He didn’t hurt you though, simply held your chin so you couldn’t bother looking away from him. He always marveled at your strength, and even now amidst your own claims he found a delightful beauty in it. It was only further proof that he wanted you near. A woman who could bring her own tenacity to the table, and leave him proud by the end of it.

“You are in no position to demand things of me.”

He was right in his assertions, you held no power here. Even as a lover of the most powerful man, your reach could only stretch so far. Nonetheless, your point would forever remain, he could not dictate the details of your relationship if you were not willing.

“I will be a servant. I will stay in the servant’s quarters, and I will stay clear of you.”

To many those words would seem benign, but you added a certain bitterness behind them. As if spite was your main purpose in this conversation. Anything to put Balem in his place, if only for this moment. His reaction, however, was not what you expected and with an amused smirk he released your face and stepped back.

“As I said, little bird…” He turned on his heel, fetching his wine before heading towards his chaise lounge. He nonchalantly laid down, crossing his boots at the end as he sipped his wine and pointed towards the bed. “You are in no position to demand things of me. You want to serve, then serve. My sheets need changing, as I recall we made a mess on them not so long ago.”

His confidence was enviable, and even when you felt you had the upper hand he always knocked you back into place. It was no wonder he held the fate of planets at his fingertips. But, in some odd way you had gained part of your request. Only now you’d be at his beck and call, back to the way it originally was. Except you felt a certain doom looming over you this time around. One that caused your chest to tighten and heart to sink. Being around him was the one condition you intended to keep, that seemed to be out of your power now. It’s not like you could avoid him anyway, being surrounded by everything he owned he was bound to cross paths with you at some point.

“As you wish…my lord.” You spat back, a coolness to your tone that made him scoff in annoyance. But, he watched you intensely despite your attitude. If only to find satisfaction in seeing you seethe with your own anger for him.

***

Days had passed since your falling out with a certain entitled, not that you held any regret for it. There was honor in knowing you said exactly what you felt, even if it hurt doing so. It did nag at the back of your mind often, the way he looked at you, the way he spoke to you. He was like a whirlwind of emotion when he truly wanted to be. One minute he’s beckoning you for dinner, and the next he’s spitting insults and threats in your face. If he did harbor any positive feelings towards you, he truly did not know how to present them properly. You’d like to think his anger came from a very sensitive spot in him, but that was likely just wishful thinking on your part. Even though you were eager to rid yourself of your feelings for Balem, some small part of you yearned for his affections in return. As any person would hope for in the wake of a romance.

“When you’re done, prepare his meal for him and leave it in his chambers. Lord Balem wishes to take dinner in there today.”

The head of the servants flew by you, shouting out orders to everyone and hustling about the kitchen. He paid particular attention to you, and whether that was by Balem’s hand or not you weren’t entirely sure. But, since you were meant to wait on the Primary hand and foot, you supposed the head would prefer you do it perfectly. Or else he’d suffer the consequences.

“Sure.” You stated dryly, rolling your eyes as the man once again passed by and observed over your shoulder. You swore he acted as if you’d poison Balem the way he eyed your food preparation. Thankfully, his assessment didn’t last long when a small fire broke out on the stove, his yelling now focused on another poor serving girl. You took that moment and ran with it, grabbing the dinner tray and quickly heading out the doors. Sometimes, especially in these situations, you began to regret saying you’d be a servant. But, in your passionate exchange of words with the head of Abrasax industries you may have gotten a bit carried away. You just wanted to be as far from him as possible, but now he was working you to the bone every chance he got. Even though you didn’t regret your words, you regretted your suggestions right now. It was an endless cycle of cleaning his throne room, chambers, balcony, anything his boots so much as scraped you were now in charge of scrubbing and sweeping. He was doing it on purpose, you knew that much. He found utter joy in watching you get on your knees and suffer for your defiance. It was wicked, and downright degrading sometimes. Pretending not to be bothered was the only solace you had in it, because nothing disappointed him more than knowing he wasn’t getting under your skin.

As you walked through the hallways, you passed a number of guards. All of them gathering to head towards the docks and the surrounding grounds of the palace. Balem had made it a priority to have security doubled ever since the assassin came. And for now only cargo ships were allowed passed the Jupiter gates. Everyone seemed to be in a rush now days, more so than usual. Even Mr. Night was giving in to the stress weighing on him. Not that he wasn’t normally frazzled to begin with.

“Anything else you might need, Lord Balem?”

The honeyed voice of a serving girl captured your ear, and you halted in your footsteps as you came face to face with the very man you often tried to avoid. He was standing just at the end of the hall, for once not surround by guards or his advisor. But, the two of them were awfully close to one another, and you recognized the girl as someone you had seen numerous times before in the servant quarters. She was a cute little thing, any man would be blind not to admit that. Which only made seeing them together all that more painful. They weren’t anywhere near Balem’s chambers, but it wouldn’t be unheard of for him to quickly find another woman to satisfy his appetite with.

Unfortunately for you, both of them caught sight of your presence rather quickly. There was an awkwardness about it, you just shuffling on your boots as you stared them both down. You didn’t care for her disgusted glance, but Balem’s stoic one was more than unsettling.

“Leave.”

You watched in surprise as Balem waved her away, his attention now fully on you as he began to walk in your direction. The girl tried to speak to him again, but with one look he had her running off to continue her duties. It was somewhat comforting to witness, because it only showed he held no attachment to her. That didn’t mean nothing went on behind closed doors, but you tried to find your victories in the minor details.

As Balem grew closer, you continued your pace again just about passing him by. Both of you held the other’s gaze, as if your thoughts could possibly come across. Not that it was a painless task to try and decipher the Primary’s stare. When it came to the ultimate poker face, Balem held that honor. You on the other hand, were clumsily letting your emotions show in the form of thoughtless words.

“That didn’t take you long.”

It was enough to interrupt Balem’s path to the throne room, your shoulders almost brushing when he stopped just next to you. He slowly turned his head down to you, that gloating look of his already making your stomach turn. And then he smirked, like the smug bastard that he is.

“Jealousy is unbecoming of you.”

“I’m not-” You bit at your cheek, trying to cover up the obvious resentment in your words. “I’m not jealous. Just making an observation.”

That only seemed to please him more, and he just chuckled darkly as he reached over tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear. He was playing with you, trying the same tactics he did months ago when you first got here. Seduction was a game he was perfectly skilled at, but unlike the women already here you weren’t prone to giving in to the privileges he’d bestow upon his chosen woman. He may have won the first time, but you, just like him back then, wanted one thing. To fulfill the desires of your heart in the most lustful of ways. His position or riches meant nothing to you, because you had no interest in possessing the power of the world at your fingertips. That was way above your pay grade. And lust was no longer an issue for you. Of course you craved his touch some nights, or most nights if you were honest. Any sane woman would, but you weren’t foolish enough to dig your hole deeper and wallow in the pity of unrequited love.

“I know what jealousy looks like in a woman’s eyes.” He purred, thinking it’d be an easy task to bring you back to him. For what it was worth, he didn’t think you could keep up this little ploy of yours, but so far he was impressed. Even at the expense of his own pride. He wanted you back by his side, and each day that passed only disheartened him further.

“With all due respect, my lord…” You paused, holding the tray tighter in your hands as you offered him a sharp stare in return. For now, Balem didn’t understand what you felt and it was in your best interest to keep that secret. But, for the sake of silencing that mouth of his for once you spoke up anyway. “I don’t think you know what anything looks like in a woman’s eyes.”

His glare darkened, eyes narrowing as his lip twitched at the corner. You truly did enjoy toying with his mood, at least that’s how he saw it. However, he was the better player in all of this. With a grin he dipped down, lips mere centimeters from your ear as he whispered cruelly into it.

“You wish to know if I bedded her?”

You never knew a question could cause so much pain, but with those few words your throat ached. Every part of you wanting to sink to the ground and cry. The feeling was pathetic, and as hard as you tried to hold it together the urge to slap that evil grin off his face was building. And you were sure you would’ve gone through with it had it not been for his guards and Mr. Night turning the corner.

“Lord Balem, I have the data you requested.”

The First Primary kept his eyes on you, but that smirk was no longer there. He wasn’t happy about being interrupted, but you figured what Mr. Night had was far too important for him to ignore. So he moved away from you, never giving an answer to his question he posed. It broke your heart, not only to hear it but now to sit in limbo as your mind conjured up many images of them together.

“Excuse me.” You softly spoke, keeping the tray as steady as you could on your way to his room.

Balem never let his gaze tear away from you, not until you were out of his line of sight. He was tempted to place his arm in front of you, to stop you from leaving his side once again. But, he opted to let you leave this time. There was other matters that needed his attention, and he could use the distractions.

***

“Oh, you’re here.”

You set the tray on the table, nodding over at Evianna who was busy cleaning his furniture. You had spent a considerable amount of time by her side lately, mainly because she was usually in charge of catering to his chambers and food. But, Balem always got his way, and somehow you found yourself partner to his personal servant. Not that you both had grown any closer than before. She still tried on occasion to place herself in your business, especially in regards to Balem. Each time only ended the same, you sighing and saying you didn’t want to talk about it. You figured this time wouldn’t be any different. She was a talented judge of character, and often knew your thoughts and mood better than you did.

“You can leave the rest, ill take care of it.” You offered, filling his glass of wine so it would be ready for him.

“Oh, it’s fine. I’m almost done.” She smiled, wiping at the top of his dresser. “Besides, I’m sure he’d love to have you alone again.”

It was a playful jest, but it vexed you all the same. It wasn’t her fault, she was simply trying hard to gain your favor. If only she knew the brief run in you had with him just now, she wouldn’t be so mindlessly spewing words about his nonexistent feelings for you.

“Little chance of that.” Your voice fell flat, your own senses trying to keep your obvious emotions out of it. Not that that stopped Evianna from prying again. You could hear her movements stop, and you already knew what was coming.

“Is this really wise?”

You had to admire her persistence, though you wished she’d understand your point of view in this. For a woman like her, Balem was a dream, a man she longed for day and night. You knew if given the chance she’d eagerly take your place again, that much was obvious. But, you supposed her pushing you to make more of your relationship with the entitled was simply her way of getting what she wanted in the end. Even if she wasn’t the one winning his affections. What an odd thing, you thought. Yet, for someone well versed in this universe gaining Balem’s heart was probably a very sought after thing. Any woman would suddenly find themselves well to do. If Balem could shower you with gifts by just being his bedmate, you could only imagine what his actual wife would be privileged to.

“Is what wise?” You knew her meaning, but you didn’t feel the need to explain or play into this conversation with her. By now your feelings for the Primary were likely known, even if just to Evianna. But, that wasn’t to be entertained by your mind anymore. It could never happen, and you weren’t sure it should happen. Because, as far as your heart could tell the feelings you held were not mutual. Especially when he so viciously toyed with your emotions.

“He shows care for you-”

“Evianna!” You sighed in frustration, laying your forehead against your palm in an attempt to ease your growing stress. “It’s not like that, and I’d really appreciate it if you’d drop it.”

“If you ignore him, he’ll find another.”

There were a number of things she could’ve responded with, and yet she chose that. It was like she was practically waving her intentions in front of you, but you supposed that could also be your jealousy taking over. Maybe she did want the best for you, but you were far too fed up with her and the idea of her wanting to be a friend that it didn’t really make a difference. With a wave of your hand you went back to folding the sheets, trying to make her realize once and for all you didn’t care.

“Yeah well…that’s the plan.”

You tucked his bedsheets under the edge of the mattress, trying to pretend you didn’t feel her gaze burning into your back. If you were willing to part with Balem on whatever terms, that was your right. And here she was making you feel as if that was the biggest mistake of your life. But, what other choice was there now? Earth was an impossible feat, and pretending that nothing happened between you two and go back to bedding the entitled was the last thing you needed. You feared your heart couldn’t take it anymore. You never meant to fall for him, and somehow that happened. Going back to the way things were would only make it worse, and tossing yourself out of the equation seemed easier than allowing him the pleasure later on. Not that you didn’t miss his companionship, for the lack of a better term. He had redeemable traits, unfortunately none of them included caring for another person.

“I know you’re trying to save yourself the heartache, but acting this way will only make it worse in the end.”

You paused in your actions, kneeling by his bed as you laid a palm atop the comforter. Evianna truly enjoyed hearing herself talk, even if her words were somehow bearing the truth. This time you didn’t try to interrupt her or prove her wrong, you just stayed silent. Her advice cutting deeper than you expected it to.

Evianna sighed in exhaustion, placing Balem’s decorations back on the dresser after polishing them. She was already done, and she took that chance and turned to you. With her hands clasped gently in front of her she just smiled, giving you one last thing to think over before Balem came sauntering back into his room later.

“You’ve come this far. Why stop now?”

***

“It’s a robust stock, my lord. Should be ready to harvest in five years time.”

Mr. Night tapped away at the tablet in his arms, eyeing the data collected from a planet under Balem’s inheritance. It hadn’t gone through a harvest in centuries, and though it was usually longer till the Abrasax family set their eyes on it again, the growth of life had proven far better than the last. It was no wonder Balem had chosen it for an early harvest, they’d get more than their fair share of premium Abrasax from the inhabitants.

“Five years…” The First Primary walked down the corridor towards the docks, cape sliding gracefully around him as two guards followed closely behind. Ever since Kalique had done such a sloppy job of ridding the family of him, he made it his business to have his army be on watch, and a number of them typically accompanied him around the alcazar. He may not take her threats as seriously as she’d like, but he wasn’t naive either. If they were going to send someone else, he’d be ready for them. “Check the outline for the next 2 years, if there is even a slight exponential growth I want to hear of it. Make plans for an even earlier possible harvest.”

“Right away, my lord.” Mr. Night had a concerned expression on his face, as he always did whenever Balem was a bit more ambitious than he should like. But, he wasn’t going to question his choices. He was rarely reckless with his business, and even when he was it always proved to be the better decision. “Shall I send in the keepers? To collect more samples for the future?”

Balem nodded, hardly interested in keeping this conversation going. His mind was preoccupied with a great number of important matters, but there was only one person that was at the center of it all. You. How you managed to work yourself under his skin like that was surprising, and while he found your boldness admirable having it directed at him was too infuriating. But, what was more damaging to his moods as of late was the lack of your presence. It grated on his nerves like nothing else, and the reasons behind it wasn’t something he’d willingly admit to himself.

“My lord?”

The Primary stopped in his tracks, eyes turning to view the splice from his peripheral. He didn’t need to speak his commands, because Mr. Night had come to know each expression of his all too well. So, with a simple courteous bow he excused himself from Balem’s company leaving him with the guards at his back.

“Escort me to my chambers. Then head back to the docks for the remainder of your duty.”

“My lord.” Both guards held their fists over their chests, giving a quick nod to Balem as they made to follow him down the hall. Their armor clanked as they slowed their steps, keeping in pace with their lord as he strode towards his chambers. The halls grew quieter the further they went, the servants likely finishing up for the day. It was a welcomed change from this afternoon’s events, constant meetings, issues, anything that could sour his mood made it on the agenda for him. And now he was looking forward to complete solitude, save for the little bird awaiting him in his chambers. He had made it a point to have you keep your former position, his personal servant. Every privilege he offered before, was now forfeit and if you truly wished to end what you had with him, he was still going to keep you close by if only for his own peace of mind.

In his musings he didn’t pay mind to the noise behind him. Not until a choking sound erupted in the soft hush of the halls. It made him still in his movements and though he didn’t immediately turn, he felt this shadow overtake his mind. That sound was unmistakable, he had heard it numerous times in his life. From when men had made it their business to target his mother, or when she made it her goal to punish those who stood against her. Even if that meant subjecting her eldest son to witness their deaths. And it was something he’d carry on into his own reign as head of the family. That was the sound of a man dying, and just when Balem made to turn, his eyes barely catching sight of one of his guards dead on the floor, he felt a hand at his shoulder. It pulled him roughly, closing the distance between him and one of his guards who then plunged a dagger deep into the Primary’s abdomen.

***

A/N: 🤷🏻‍♀️ Oops, my hand slipped. Why did the guard do that?! Just wait and see. Lol Because I love for the torture. Our poor space daddy is doomed.

[awkwardblushing-blog]

Cullen’s Cottage Chapter 7 & 8

AO3 Link TBD

They had to stop several times for Cullen to catch his breath. The only thing driving him forward was the thought of regaining lost memories, and the only thing slowing him down were his own legs, weak from lack of use. Maerin had forced him to stop several times to eat a small something, to catch his breath, and the entire trip took them the better part of the morning. Fortunately, she had seen this possibility and packed a bag with not only food but blankets, should they need to make camp for the night.

The river was stunning, the whole forest was, really, but the river commanded attention, cutting through the trees and racing over the stones unencumbered. It roared as it crashed over a steep overhang, a waterfall he vaguely remembered. The night flashed in his mind, the lightning and pouring rain in memory, a stark contrast to the bright sun currently sparkling against the tide. After the falls, the river seemed to calm, making its way lazily against reeds and lilies. In its depths, the bright scales of fish could be seen, at least until Harel crashed into the waters, surfacing with a fish in his jowls.

Maerin made her way to the banks, looking for something in the shore, before coming to a stop and motioning Cullen over.

“This is where I found you. As far as I know, there are no settlements or camps nearby, I think the river may have carried you far from home.” She scanned up and down the river bank, “And it looks like someone made off with your armor. I’m sorry.”

His brow drew forward and he scanned the surroundings. There was nothing nearby, no fort - no home. He sighed sharply and stared upstream. He’d been washed down that dreadful current, fallen in that cascade, and managed to make it to shore. The Maker must have played a hand in his survival, there were so many moments he could have lost his life.

He followed the flow of the water, and started. Deep in the pool, just after the falls, something distinctly metal shone. He began to wade into the water, despite Maerin’s protests, and dove, hands clasping around familiar leather, his features breaking into a grin as he came up for air. He waded up the bank slowly before collapsing on the shores, falling hard onto his backside. She was beside him in an instant, but he was uninjured, just a bit winded. When he looked up at her face, she was blushing. He was confused a moment, until he looked down at his soaking wet tunic, see through with the moisture and clinging to his frame. To her credit, she held herself much better than he did as she peeled the wet fabric over his head, muttering about catching a cold under her breath as she wrung it out.

“Is that yours then?” Her voice didn’t waver, but she did take a step back, digging through her bag and pulling out one of the blankets. She wrapped it around his now shivering shoulders before sitting on its edge beside him.

He turned the sword over in his hands, the leather grip was familiar and comforting, an extension of himself sorely missed. It glinted in the light, catching on the notches in the blade. It would need a smith, and re-sharpened, but it was returned to him. His mind flashed with fresher memories, of a dark haired woman holding up her shield in a training yard as they practiced, her heavy accent barking commands and taunts alike. Of that same red haired man, head barely visible over a monstrous shield. Of snowy slopes and too many Maker forsaken stairs.

“Yes.” He shook his head, the strange castle quickly fading from his mind. “I think I was in the mountains, there was snow and… some kind of fortress.”

“The mountains?” She raised her eyebrow, “There are no mountains around here, just rather large hills. Perhaps you had gone out?”

He thought a moment longer, but shook his head. Nothing returned.

“Well, there can’t be many fortresses in the mountains that receive snow.” She nodded her head, “I need to make a trip into town soon, I will see if I can find a map while I am there. If you are feeling well enough, you could come with me. Perhaps someone will recognize you?”

Cullen hesitated, thinking of the large gash in his back. “What if… what if I was to be executed?”

She shook her head, dismissing it quickly. “No, you didn’t see your armor but I did. That is the armor of a high ranking military man, not a criminal to be put to death.”

He stared at her a moment, then smiled wide, shaking his head. “I suppose if I have learned nothing else in the last few days, I have at least learned that I am a pessimist.”

She smiled and gestured to his now soaking wet clothes, ���And a bit of a fool.”

He turned deep red, “Yes, that as well.”

She stood, dusting off the traveling clothes she’d changed into and moved the pack closer.

“There is some food in here and another potion if your back starts to hurt. I am going to grab some firewood, I will be right back. Do not move.” She turned towards the Mabari that was currently lying upside down in a sun beam and laughed. “Harel… try and keep an eye out.”

And with that, she disappeared into the underbrush. Harel rolled over long enough to watch her pass before flopping onto his back once more. Cullen returned his attention to the sword in his hand. There were several scratches in the blade, likely remnants from long fought battles. The haft was well worn leather, but cared for, conditioned and oiled often. At the hilt there was a strange symbol, an eye with several spikes, like the rays of the sun, radiating above it, and one single one below it. It seemed so familiar. A brief flash of a young man with a bright smile handing him his sword from a snow drift was followed quickly by several soldiers all standing at attention, hanging on his every word. He had been a commander, at least of sorts, and led a sizable army, if his memory was correct. His head began to ache and he set the blade down in his lap, reaching in the pack for the potion she’d left behind, draining half the contents before re-corking it in case he needed it later.

He pulled the blanket tighter around himself. His back was growing sore, and he didn’t have the strength to stand now that he was seated. He rolled onto his back, twisted in the blankets with his arm folded beneath his head, and nearly immediately fell asleep.

---

He woke to firelight dancing on his eyelids, the lovely sound of Maerin’s soft singing, and the smell of cooking fish. He opened his eyes and saw the warm light from the heavy setting sun bathing the small clearing, casting its warm amber rays to dance in Maerin’s hair and warmth across her skin as she poked at one of the fish propped beside the fire on a stick. Her bright eyes flicked up and locked on his and he colored, having been caught staring yet again.

“I’m glad you are awake. How are you feeling?” She moved on to the next fish.

“Alright. Sorry I dosed off.” He raised an eyebrow at her grin.

“I wouldn’t call it dosing off so much as passing out.” Her voice was tinted with laughter, “But it’s alright, you need to rest and recover. Even with magic, or even especially with magic, healing is an exhausting process.”

“What were you singing?” Cullen blurted, and Maerin colored.

“Oh, um.” She waved a hand in the air dismissively, “It’s a song I heard in Orlais when I was little.”

“Your accent isn’t Orlesian.” Cullen continued, taking the fish from her. He felt as tactful as a trebuchet, the way he was prying her about his past. Unfortunately, without his own memories to discuss, he had nothing else to talk about, and he wanted to hear her voice, no matter what she was saying.

“It may be an Orlesian song, but that does not mean I am Orlesian. My father was from Antiva, he died trying to keep me out of the circle, not that your fellow templars cared.” Her tone was sharp until she sighed and handed him one of the fish, “I’m sorry. That was unfair it is just… a sensitive topic.”

Cullen fell silent, picking at his fish, trying his best to look apologetic. She wrapped another blanket around his shoulders and, taking a fish for herself, settled in beneath it hip to hip.

“I manifested fairly young. I barely remember my mother, the only thing that comes forward is a crown of red hair. My father… I look very much like him, though his hair and skin were far darker than my own. He stole me away when my mother would have handed me over, and he ran. He lived the life of a vagabond so I could remain safe and free. When the templars attacked, he told me to run and I did.” She scoffed, “I didn’t even look back. I try not to blame myself, I was only seven after all, but maybe I could have… done something.”

Cullen’s skin felt too tight. He’d dredged up this painful memory through a harmless desire to hear her speak and a lack of any other topic. He watched as she stretched out her arm and handed her uneaten fish to Harel. Cullen turned deep red as he shifted, moving his arm to brace around her shoulders and pull her towards him, pulling the blanket in tight around them.

“I’m sorry.” He murmured, resting his head on top of hers. “There has to be a better way.”

The circle is not the answer! The Chantry should not be allowed to rip children from their parents for something that might happen! A man’s voice, followed by images of tanned skin and a strange moustache came to the forefront. He felt a bitter sensation in the back of his throat, like he’d just been proven wrong. He shook his head at the memory.

“Well, hopefully the Inquisition will make something of it, but I doubt it. People are too set in their ways to change now and even if they grow powerful enough to force change there will still be resistance.” She sighed, and as much as Cullen had wanted her to speak, had wanted to hear her voice, his mind went blank at the mention of the ‘Inquisition’. His brow furrowed and she shifted away to look at him. “Are you alright?”

His eyes flicked to hers, “Ah, yes, I’m alright. That title just sounds… familiar. I don’t know, maybe I’m just tired.”

“We can revisit it tomorrow. Do you think you’re up for heading back to the cabin tonight?”

Cullen recoiled at the idea, wanting to spend the night just as they were, but knew his back would not tolerate it. He nodded slowly and, with the assistance of both Maerin and Harel, managed to get to his feet and make it back to the cabin.