#stream shadow and bone dammit

[teenwolftalk]

Inej: *lecturing Kaz about the fact that he can’t go around blowing up Ketterdam up for no reason*

Kaz: Pekka Rollins killed my brother.

Inej: Then we destroy him.

[undertheopensky]

Wildlife 2

Whumptober Day 5: “It’s broken,” though elements of Pinned Down also snuck in

Characters: Blue Link, Red Link

Trigger warnings: Violence to a child, broken bones, mentions of slavery, but nothing happens

Read on Ao3!

Missed the first instalment? Read here!

-----

“Blue~! If you sleep much longer, Vio’s gonna try cooking again!”

Blue grunts and flails. “I’m up, I’m up, keep him away from the stove -”

His hand hits grass instead of fabric and suddenly he’s awake, jolting upright and blinking in the cold grey light.

Red’s singsong fades with the last wisps of the dream. He’s still alone. Still trapped in a sectioned-off forest with no supplies or equipment or any idea how to get home.

His stomach growls.

…and he’s still hungry.

Blue rolls into a sit and wraps his arms around himself. The constant ache in his back and shoulders and hips is annoying, but he’s almost getting used to it. It’s just one more thing making shit hard. Like the way his head hurts, and he’s sometimes racked with shivers despite the warm temperatures.

Sooo, are you gonna get up, or are you just gonna sit there and complain that you’re hungry?

Blue sighs theatrically. “Yeah, yeah.”

He knows it’s not real - that Green’s voice is just his memory playing familiar sounds. That he’s playing pretend like a child. He just -

He’s never been alone this long. Not since their last adventure, when they’d split not just in body but in mind, and never (wanted to) rejoin. Not since wind screaming, snow in his boots, hands numb with cold where they wrap around his sword hilt, shadow at his back and he - can’t - move -

His fingers tighten. At least it’s not cold here.

C’mon Blue! What do you want for breakfast?

“Bread,” Blue mutters, reluctantly dragging himself to his feet. “Apples. Goddess I miss apples.”

There’s no bread to be had here, though, and he doesn’t have the mental stamina to go through the laborious process of gathering enough wood and kindling and lighting a goddamn fire to cook a fish, so it’ll be tubers and greens. At least he’s found something that looks and tastes like a dandelion, though it never flowers - means he doesn’t have to eat spruce needles like a starving deer.

(Blue hates them, and may never drink lemonade again.)

Foraging for breakfast at least means doing something. That’s almost the worst part - the boredom. That’s when the voices in Blue’s head get a little too loud and a little too real, and he’s left scratching at his own skin with all the wrongness of being alone. Sometimes when it gets too much he’ll practice drills from their squire days, waving his favourite stick like it’s a badly-balanced sword with his brothers giggling in his ears, or run the perimeter like there’s a chance something will have changed. But more and more often, Blue finds himself just - stopping, in the middle of doing something, and thinking, I’m so tired.

Your stomach doesn’t care that you’re tired. Vio’s brisk as ever.

“I know, I know.” Blue hauls up the tuber plant he’d been digging and stands, ignoring the damp that’s soaked into the knees of his worn pyjama pants. It’s a big one - if he can find enough dandelions then all he’ll have to do is park his ass by the stream to wash everything, and then he won’t have to move for a while.

What, sure you don’t wanna practice later? Bet I can do more drills than you!

“Too tired, Green.” Truth is, Blue is probably losing strength, but he’s doing his best, dammit. Everything just feels weighed down, lead-heavy and slow. It’s almost all he can do just to sit here on the bank, rinsing dandelion leaves and trying to put more into the ‘later’ stack than into his mouth.

Building and maintaining muscle requires a better diet than you’ve been getting lately. It’s no wonder you’re tired.

“That’s nice, Vio.” The roof of his mouth itches. Blue scrubs his tongue over the ridges there, frowning. He better not be developing an allergy to the not-dandelions. He does not want to go back to eating spruce tips for greens.

The tingling fades. Blue cleans another leaf, a little more thoroughly, and chews it slowly, paying attention to the feel in his mouth. This time, there’s nothing, so he shrugs it off as a weird-body thing and turns to getting all the flour-fine dirt out of his tubers.

The comforting chatter of the water is soothing, almost drowning out the emptiness of the surrounding forest. There’s no birds, no small mammals, just plants and fish and Blue, and it’s always too quiet and too still.

From the corner of his eye, maroon flickers between two trees.

Blue blinks, for a second disbelieving, then looks up, because he can swear he hears footsteps -

Instinct makes him grab for his stick.

“Hey - hey, you! Do you know where we are? I was travelling through the forest near Lake Hylia and now I can’t find the road!”

Blue stares, uncomprehending. He hasn’t seen another Hylian in over a week. He hasn’t seen another living creature besides fish in nearly as long. It’s - something in his brain is hitting on person right in front of me and stumbling, reaching for normal interaction and finding only empty shelves.

Where did they even come from?

“Are you listening?! I’m lost!” The stranger staggers out of the underbrush, shaking off a last clinging branch, and Blue finally gets a good look at the person shouting at him.

Hard-wearing travel gear, good leather boots, the kind of warm vest he usually sees on merchants who travel long distances - brown hair, dark eyes, not familiar. If he was following the Lake Hylia road he’s likely a travelling merchant from Labrynna, as that’s the main pathway between the two kingdoms.

Thanks Vio, that’s very helpful, Blue thinks.

Always welcome, brother dearest.

The probable-merchant look up from pulling a stick out of his boot and focuses on Blue. “Hey, you’re just a kid!” The light in his eyes shifts then, to something almost greedy that makes Blue’s hackles rise in response. Abruptly feeling vulnerable, he stands and takes two steps sideways from the stream. Securing his footing.

“What’re you doing out here all alone, huh?” The man takes a couple steps forward, arms held away from his sides in a way that should read as unthreatening. Blue wants to bare his teeth instead.

“What, got nothing to say? Where’s your family, kiddo?”

The stranger rushes him.

Well if he wants to fight that bad, Blue’s got a week’s worth of disquiet and frustration to work out.

He sidesteps the rush, uses both hands on his stick to shove, and knocks the man cleanly away. (He catches himself before he lands in the stream, to Blue’s private disappointment.)

Back off, he thinks.

“Are you all alone?”

He ignores the words, ducks the grasping hands and shoves his shoulder into the guy’s gut, getting a pained grunt. The hands try to secure a grip in his hair; Blue twists away.

What does this idiot even want? They’re stuck here. It’s not like he could be dragged off to be sold into Labrynna’s slave trade -

- unless he hasn’t realised that yet.

Fuck.

Blue steps back, and back, mind racing in circles of no way out no way to get him out no way out. The merchant - the slaver - thinks he’s running scared. He’s following, smirking, just waiting for Blue to back himself into a corner, bump into a tree - trunks are thick around them and there are plenty of trip hazards in the form of shallow roots.

The man suddenly lunges. Without thinking Blue jams his stick down and across to block him, maybe trip him.

Instead the thin pine gives way with an audible crack.

Blue catches a blow on his cheekbone that has him seeing stars but it doesn’t hurt as much as his fist does when it makes contact, fuck. Must have got him in the face. The brief moment of disorientation hampers Blue more, because there’s hard hands at his shoulders and a foot between his own, and then they’re falling, Blue crushed beneath the heavy weight of a full grown male.

Real terror surges through him. He doesn’t know this person but they feel wrong and they’re much bigger and stronger and he doesn’t have a weapon -

He thrashes, kicks, scratches, and bites, all to little effect through the man’s sturdy clothes. Then, desperation overriding caution, he slams his head forward.

There’s a shriek of pain, a spatter of wet heat. Blue kicks free of the stranger’s weight and scrambles back. Pain radiates from the point his head made contact, white-hot and dizzying. His shoulder hits a tree; he grabs for it, misses, finds purchase and uses it to drag himself upright and damn the black spots that bloom in his vision, he is not lying down for this -

Things have gone eerily quiet.

And when Blue blinks the stars out of his eyes for good, he’s alone.

He spins all the way round. There’s no sign of the stranger in the trees, no flickers of colours or moving foliage. Blue remembers the horrible light in his eyes and knows there’s no way he’d just - given up -

He - he can’t have hallucinated an entire fight, right?! No, the grass is torn up. And there’s blood from the guy’s nose, splattered on the ground and on his skin, and Blue isn’t bleeding at all. The guy’s just… gone. Without a trace.

(Like the fish appearing in the stream, but in reverse. Like they’d always been there; like he’d never been there in the first place.)

Distantly Blue’s aware that he’s shaking. His head throbs, and his vision’s still a bit wobbly. Trying to squint through the trees makes him nauseous, so he lets his eyes drop to the torn-up grass, where the broken pieces of his trusty stick still lie.

And it’s so fucking stupid, but that’s what makes his eyes overflow.

It’s just a stick, and he can get another just like it, but he’s had this one since first being dropped here. It was his main tool, long enough to drag down overhead branches when he wanted or to poke through bushes, stout enough to help with digging when the dirt is stubborn. And now it’s broken, because some fuckwit saw a lone kid and decided to be an asshole about it.

C’mon, Blue. It’ll be okay.

Red’s voice is so real Blue nearly calls out to him. Stifles it at the last minute, heart panging. He misses them, suddenly, more fiercely than ever. Green wouldn’t have made the mistake that ended with Blue nearly pinned and helpless. Vio would have talked his way out of the fight completely. And Red - Blue huffs, and sniffles. Red would have been perfectly earnest and polite, right up until the first lunge - at which point everything would have gone to hellfire and screaming.

He misses them. He wants to go home.

Blue’s face hurts, a steady throb of heat up the side. It’s more evidence of the fact that there was someone here, however briefly. He wasn’t alone.

(He hates that he can’t decide if it’s a good or bad thing.)

-----

That night Blue jerks awake multiple times, heart racing.

Sometimes he moves, making his face spike with pain. Sometimes he thinks he’s hearing noises - rustles of leaves, the puff of air from someone breathing way too close. Other times, shadows in his dreams steal close and crush the life out of him, hissing warnings about the road to Labrynna, and waking to the complete darkness of the forest doesn’t help to dispel them. His eyes are open and the weight is gone but he can’t see and he can’t breathe and he can’t hold his eyelids up forever -

It’s a bad night.

-----

Blue pauses in another fishing expedition when the air shifts.

The air in this place is unnaturally still; there’s no breezes, no winds, nothing to brush the leaves or stir hair. It means that when something does move, it feels super fucking obvious. And something in the air just shifted.

Snatching up his new stick, Blue wades out of the stream and heads for drier ground. He is not getting caught off guard again. There’s a thicket of nasty spiky shrubs not far off just waiting to make a nuisance of themselves.

He freezes in his tracks when someone wails.

It’s thin and breathy and agonised, the kind of noise an animal makes when it’s horribly wounded, a sound that forces its way out of you because the pain can’t be held in.

Worst of all - he thinks it’s familiar.

The scream dies before he can get close. His heart goes cold and so does his skin, almost tingling-numb with terror so he can’t feel the thin leaves of the shrubs whipping past. No no no goddesses please don’t let him be too late -

Then the sobbing gets past the ringing in his ears and his heart thunders back to life just as bright colour comes visible through the woods.

He’d known it was Red from the first echo of sound but it doesn’t feel real. His brother is here, bawling on the grass in an awkward sprawl, the soft pink of his pyjamas filthy with grass stains and dirt and blood -

The word tears itself from his throat. “Red!”

Red flinches back then shrieks when the movement pulls at his leg.

“Red, no - don’t - don’t move -” Blue stumbles to kneel beside him, hands hovering like he’s - fuck like he’s scared to make contact because he is, where is he hurt?

Red flails a hand, smacks Blue on the neck with it. “Blue - you’re - you’re real, aren’t you?”

“I’m real, I’m here, I’ve got you -”

Red’s arm hooks around him in a clumsy hug. “I missed you so much,” he wails, trying to get his other arm up and around but whimpering when trying to roll hurts him. “I missed you!”

And Blue had missed him too, so fucking much, that he can’t stop himself from leaning in and hugging him back, tight and guilty. His brother is trapped here too, trapped and injured, and all he can feel is relief.

“Lemme see,” he says, pulling back. His left leg is obvious cause for concern, twisted and swollen under thin linen. Red whimpers as Blue pulls the fabric away. He can only be glad Red favours a loose fit.

He does not like what he sees underneath. Not as much blood as he was expecting, heavy bruising from dark angry red through blue-black and edged with green, and not even the swelling can hide the way his shin bends in the middle.

“Red, this is definitely broken.”

“No shit!” Red says tearfully. Then he bursts into fresh tears. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry I know you’re trying to help -”

“You’re in pain, you’re allowed to be grumpy,” Blue says, pulling up his other pant leg for inspection. Some cuts and grazes, but so far he hasn’t found anything worth the smears of blood that had caught his eye first. “Red, where are you bleeding from? Do you have a cut somewhere?”

“I - no, it’s - I can’t - I can’t walk,” Red admits, like not being able to walk on a broken leg is somehow shameful, the little idiot, “an’ I grazed my knees crawling to water. They hurt, Blue.”

“Washing them out’s gonna hurt worse.” Blue finds the wounds, and yow. Red hasn’t just grazed them, he’s stripped the skin right off a palm-sized section of both legs, still oozing clear fluid. Not for the first time, he wishes for potions, but wishing won’t get them anywhere. Work with what you’ve got.

The broken halves of his first tool-stick will be just about perfect, he thinks. “Red, wait here, I’m gonna grab a splint -”

“NO!” Red screams and hurls himself at Blue, “don’t leave me!”

Blue freezes. Partly it’s the contact, which is again sparking a weird and not entirely comfortable tingling. Partly it’s Red and the potential damage he could do to himself moving suddenly. And partly it’s because his heart just fell into the fucking dark world.

“Red, you scared the shit out of me,” he grunts, wrapping a supporting arm around Red’s shoulders.

“‘M sorry,” Red sniffles, “don’t go. I’ll lose you - you’ll disappear - how do I know you’re real - can’t I just go with you?”

“Red, your leg is broken, you really shouldn’t move it.”

Red sniffs and gives Blue as dry a look he can manage while drowning in his own tears. “I’ve been dragging it around for the last five days, I don’t think dragging it the last however far to your camp’s gonna do it any more harm.”

He would - Blue knows he’s been here longer than that. He hasn’t taken to cutting tally marks into a tree yet, only because he doesn’t have a damn knife, but it’s been at least ten days since he woke up in this strange, enclosed forest. But right now, he doesn’t care enough to do the math, and in the face of his brother’s injuries it’s low priority anyway.

“I don’t have anything to camp with,” Blue says dryly, “but there’s a stream further in. Think you can make it that far if I help?”

Red nods, determined.

“Then deep breath, and don’t bite your tongue - up we go.”

Red swoons a little at the gravity shift.

Blue holds him up, wishing Red wasn’t hurt, and feeling guiltier than ever at how comforting Red feels pressed up close like this. He smells like dirt and sour-pain and the sticky-pine of the forest, but under it there’s smoke and iron and home.

A few shuddery breaths later, Red lifts his head from where he’d let it fall to Blue’s shoulder. “‘M okay.”

“Then let’s go.” Strategically Blue arranges them so most of Red’s weight is on him, arms over shoulders for support. “The stream’s not too far away - it even has fish in it.”

“Fish?” Red’s eyes light up almost comically. He’s probably been restricted to whatever he could reach from his prone state on the ground, and Blue’s stomach lurches again with combined guilt-horror-relief.

“Yeah,” he says, through the tightness in his throat, “I’m getting pretty good at catching them. I’m still shit at lighting fires, though. Think you can give me a hand?”

Red grins at him, shyly hopeful, and Blue hugs him a little tighter.

-----

Read Part 3 here!

[countlessrealities]

Send “Oops” for your muse to catch mine in just a towel || Accepting !

@mcltiples sent: “Oops” { To Mercenary Rick from Vampire Rick // skipping a little forward to when they first start living together bc i think it'll be funny xD }

Rick let out a slow, heavy breath as he turned off the water, taking a moment to run a hand in his wet locks before stepping out of the shower. The bathroom was filled with steam and the mirror was completely fogged, so much that his reflection was reduced to blurry brush of colours.

Usually he was quick and efficient when it came to washing himself up, never lingering longer than it was strictly necessary. It was a habit he had formed during his years spent in space, living on bases and ships and shitty alien motels. At times he had too little water or it was extremely expensive to procure. Others it was contaminated, so the less you used, the better.

That day, however, his thoughts wouldn't leave him alone, no matter how hard he had tried to shut them up. He had tinkered with one of his projects, but his focus had kept wavering. He had spent an hour exercising, but the moment he had stopped to catch his breath, the shadows in his mind had inevitably surged up once again. Hell, he had even gone to take a walk in the woods, but that had just made it worse.

In the end, he had given up on finding a distraction and had focused on relaxing as much as possible. Standing under a stream of too hot water, concentrating only on the burning trails it left on his skin in its passing, had seemed like a good place to start.

It had turned out to be the right choice. The intrusive thoughts had faded into an incomprehensible murmuring in the back of his head, even if they had left behind a cacophony of emotions and exhaustion. It was more bearable than the flashbacks and the voices, but it was still unpleasantly draining.

He could feel it in his bones, an ache that had nothing to do with the recurring pains his surgeries had left behind.

Biting back another sigh, Rick wiped some of the condensation off the mirror with his forearm. He met his own gaze for a moment, taking in the dark bags under his eyes, before moving on the metal plate that decorated his left temple. On this sort of days, looking at it made him feel like one of his devices, a bunch of parts that didn't belong with each other but that had been unnaturally forced together by cleverness and advanced technology.

Yet, all the genius in the universe couldn't have turned them into something whole and purposeful. All it could be, all he could be was functional.

With a scoff, the mercenary turned away from the mirror and briefly rubbed his hair with a towel, before wrapping it around his waist. Having a pity party wouldn't have helped anyone, especially not his mood. He had better hurry up to head back to his room, so he could have drunk himself unconscious.

Rubbing his eyes absent-mindedly, he padded out of the bathroom, distractedly registering the coolness of the floor against the plants of his bare feet. The cabin was dead silent, but that wasn't unusual. Even during the day it tended to be quiet, unless Rick himself was the one producing noises. The other two dwellers of the place were as quiet as the shadows they tended to lurk in.

And speaking of...

Rick visibly jumped as his gaze landed by chance on one of the recesses that opened in the corridor. Not only the darkness there looked suspiciously thicker, but what abruptly brought him back to reality where the bright violent eyes shining through it, as if they had had a light of their own.

"G-God fuckin' dammit...!" The mercenary cursed, one hand shooting down to grab the towel that had loosened around his waist, threatening to fall off completely.

The surprise, however, was quick to fade and it was soon replaced by a mixture of anger and exasperation. Damn his housemate and his creepy habits. Vampires might not need to sleep and they rarely did, especially at night, but the blood-sucking asshole seemed to pull that sort of shit on him on purpose. It had happened way too many times for it to be just a coincidence.

"A-Are you for fuckin' real?! C-Can't a guy grab a shower in peace?" He threw his free hand in the air. "...Listen, I'm not in the mood, alright? I-It's...I'm going to my room to get drunk. Alone."

And he was planning to do it fast, also because he was getting more and more aware of the fact that he was standing there, almost completely naked, while his alternate was fully clothed. He had never really cared about decency, but for some obscure reason the idea of being fully undressed in front of the vampire made him uneasy.

It also made his face hit up a little, but Rick was hellbent on not acknowledging it.

Sucking in a breath through his nose, he greeted his teeth and forced himself to walk past his housemate, barely resisting the temptation to glance back over his shoulder, towards those bright eyes. He could feel them burning into his flesh, following the curve of his spine, caressing his too many scars.

If his steps got a little too fast and if he darted inside his room, almost slamming the door behind him, the mercenary pretended not to have noticed it. He hadn't run away. Hell no. He was just in a hurry to get wasted, that was all.

And yet, even as he finally brought a bottle to his lips, swallowing a generous mouthful of liquor, all he could think of as the alcohol burnt down his throat were ageless features and glowing orbs ominously piercing the darkness.

...Well, shit.

[monsterfloofs]

The Ghost in the Parlor (Sfw and anonymous protagonist!)

It was one in the morning when you rose from bed, sliding on a pair of slippers and feeling your way through the dark to exit your room. The sound was faint, barely audible, but you knew. . .

He was playing tonight.

As you weave your way towards the stairs, you could hear the chords beneath you, the stirring voice of a piano pulling you through dark corridors. As you stop and peer over the banister. You can see from up above, candles alight with a ghastly blue fire. Their light casting eerie wisps of shadows to dance upon the floor. In the middle of this spectral scene was a luminous form sitting at the old grand piano. His spindly fingers like spiders upon the keys, procuring the tune that wafted up the stairs. The sound is sweet and melancholic, mourning things that have been lost, and the ever present march of time. Always moving, never relenting.

You knew all this because you had asked him, it was his favorite tune to play. He played it often and there were times where you could almost feel his deep rooted bittersweet sadness. Tears would spring to your eyes and you would have to mop your face with your sleeve. Tonight the song felt especially lonely and with careful footing you crept down the stairs, your shadow timidly trailing after.

"Have I disturbed you?" His melodic voice intones as you sit down beside him. "No, I came to hear you play, if you would have me as company mister Sterling." "Sleep is for the living" he sighs wistfully, "You should be asleep, dreaming sweet dreams of tomorrow." 

He talks to you but his hands, ah his quick and nimble hands keep playing. You watch them sweeping across the keys, mesmerized until he stops. You blink and look up at him. His face is turned towards yours, an eyebrow quirked inquisitively. "A little distracted, were we?" You smile sheepishly, "Ah, yes, I'm sorry, but your hands do work magic. What had you been saying?"

He gives an embarrassed huff, "It's late is it not?" They pale eyes staring at you unblinkingly from beneath round vintage glasses. "Well yes," you reluctantly agree, "But I have missed your nightly performances. And I was hoping you could give me another lesson tonight." You say softly as he flexes his long spindly fingers. "Ooh. . . perhaps. You have always been kind to me. Letting me keep you up at odd hours of night with my prattling."

"You know I would stay even if you didn't give me a lesson. Your music is beautiful." He turns his head away from you, but you can see a hazy pink color introduce itself onto his countenance. When he turns back the color has all but bled out, except for some swirling traces. "I have had nothing but time to perfect it. Though as despairing as it may be, to watch seasons pass without being able to participate in the world, I still have my music. I wonder, is it what holds me here? Is my comfort my cage? Alas-- Dear, aren't you going to put your hands to the piano? You did ask for a lesson you know."

You look up at him before doing as he asks. Aligning your fingers to the keys, "I thought you were still deciding. . ."  "Oh," they respond absentmindedly, "Don't mind me, I'm particularly lost in my thoughts tonight, death, life, it's all just one big mess. . ." Sterling rambles on talking about music as you sit together playing chords and sections of songs. As you are still learning the basics he keeps things simple, most of the time you are echoing his voice on the piano or remembering notes and chords. But he has seems to have become happier with having someone he can talk to, rather than to stew lost in his own thoughts.

"You are doing quite well," A pleased smile tugging on his lips, his crinkled eyes twinkling. "Have you been practicing?"  "A little. . . Not as much as I would like though." You slid your hands onto your lap and smile. "Thank you for the lesson, I appreciate you taking the time to sit with me and do that. I hope I'm not inconveniencing you."

"Of course not," he sniffs, "I. . . am very fond of your company." There was something with the way he said it, that stirred your heart. You can feel your own face grow a little warm, "I'm glad. . . haha." He glances at you, his hands poised to begin playing again. You swallow hard and press on, "Though I h-have to admit, I am more than a little fond of you."

--BADOOM His hands slip hitting the keys too hard and causes a loud blunder of noise. Practically falling off his chair, Sterling’s hands shielding his face in embarrassment. "I-I. . .WHAT?" He stammers, your eyes widen that he reacted so dramatically. "I just meant that, I c-care about you a lot--" The candles snuff out around and you are suddenly plunged in darkness. The ghost has left the building. 

Your head flops into the piano, a few keys playing as your face presses into them. You give a groan of defeat Dammit! Way to go, you probably just killed him. . . AGAIN. Despite his usual stuffy demeanor he can get easily flustered. He tries to hide it under a punctual and proper air, but was a much shier person than he let on. You liked that about him though, there were little things that he did that just enchanted you. He was a deep thinker, and he always took the time to explain things and be patient with you. So of course, you had to go and fall in love with a ghost. You had been trying to gather the courage to tell him your feelings for about a week now. Slowly working your way towards the right words you say. But like music, timing was just as important as the notes. To be honest you had gotten so nervous you are sure you had fumbled in both regards. You sigh heavily, best head to bed, perhaps you can try and talk to him tomorrow.

You slink away in defeat, retiring to your chamber until sunlight streams through your window. Leaving a dappled trail of light and warmth inside your room. You grumpily turn over in bed, refusing to move until you have properly sulked for just a little while longer. Trying to wrack your brain how you were going to approach the ghostly pianist now. With Sterling being so shy, you weren’t sure if his reaction was bad or good. Only time will tell, but in the meantime you're up and making breakfast. Then busying yourself with doing chores around the house and trying not to let your mind settle too much into last night. You go about whiling away the hours until sunset. That's when Sterling becomes active inside the house. You don’t exactly know where he goes during the daytime. You have attempted in the past to nonchalantly snoop around in the basement but to no avail. 

Before you know it, the sun is setting in the sky. Golden light filtering across the floor, flooding the rooms with dying light. You peer into the parlor, and step inside. Running your hands over the black and white keys. You can feel a faint prick on the back of your neck, you turn around and You startle, coming face to face with the musically inclined ghoul. You put a hand on your heart. "Oh my goodness!-- Sterling!" you sigh weakly, feeling your heart pounding in your chest. “Hello,” He murmurs faintly, you look up at him, feeling suddenly shy. All this time you had been waiting to talk to him, and now only an awkward silence fills the room. Both of you starting to speak at the same time.

“I’m sorry, what were you going to say?”

“N-no that’s alright, please, continue”

“Aaah-- why don’t you go first, I was the person who upset you last night”

A hand flutters anxiously to the glasses upon his crooked nose. "You didn’t upset me. You, w-well surprised me. I  was flattered, but I don’t think you truely want anything to do with this old goat." "H-huh? What do yo--" He cuts you off with a flourish of his hand. "I'm an old man dear, not just old, decrepit. I died in 1839, my bones are buried outside, wouldn't that bother you?" His face flushes an eerie pink and he splutters in embarrassment. "I mean, it should bother you. . . " A light bulb blinks on in your head and you stare at him with new found insight. "Y-you, like me too, don't you. . ." "I beg your pa--" "It was you, wasn’t it?" With a rush of feeling, you practically jump a foot off the ground from excitement. "I was always wondering about those poems left on the door step-" your mouth goes agape. "And those flowers!" His eyes dart back and forth in a panic, his mouth wobbling. "W-what??? Me? I don't know anything about that!" You can tell he's wanting to bolt and you make a grab at one of his translucent hands. Surprisingly your fingers successfully curl around it and his shoulders jerk up. Trying to calm yourself down before trying to talk to him. You were spooking him, a novel thought, but not what you had been intending to do. So you take a different approach, "Why. . . didn't you ever tell me?" The specter is sweating bullets now, he mops his brow with a wispy handkerchief. "I-I” he groans in defeat, “A ghost cannot do romance! A ghost cannot do much of-- of anything! No matter how I felt, I couldn't keep you here, you deserve to be free, to experience life to the fullest. Not to be shackled to me and this house." You flush, truly surprised by his answer. "But, I don't want anyone else, I like you. . ." Tentatively you take his hands and hold them gently in your own. His expression quivers, looking down before he gently pulls away. His fingers wisping through your skin before reconstructing themselves back together. He puts a hand into his breast pocket before he pulls out an envelope with a flowery wax seal. He looks away from you but hands you the letter, his expression flushing as that same red color is introduced into his normal pale blue complexation. You look up at him searchingly before you gently take the letter. The smooth paper has a fragrance like all the rest of the notes you recieved, like roses and vanilla. You carefully peel back the floral seal, opening the envelope.

You watch Sterling lights the candles at the table in the parlor. It has been a week since the two of you had become a couple, and you cannot remember a happier time, then the hours you have spent together. “Didn't you say, a ghost cannot do romance?” You tease him with a smile, your eyes crinkling as you watch him with a loving gaze. He huffs softly, "That I did, and I wish more than anything I could take you to a fine dinner out of this house. . . " He pinches the wick of one last candle, and when he removes his hand, an enchanting blue fire flickers to life. “I think a candlelit dinner at home is just as lovely.” He looks at you for a moment, before he gives a little smile, “If you say so darling.” “I do.” He bends down to give you a chilly peck on the forehead before he sits down at his piano, flexing his fingers before he begins to play. The blue lights of the candles flickering to the sound of his haunting melody. But the tone has changed, no longer lachrymose. You can hear something happy stirring in the song that projects itself out of the house, and into the starlit sky.

[klbwriting]

Unexpected Allies - Chapter 7

Fandom: Six of Crows

Pairing: Kaz/female!Reader - its almost here you guys, getting so close

Summary: after a confrontation with the Darkling a discussion needs to happen

Note: so I went ahead and put in the first of four songs that inspired this fic.  ‘Summertime’ by My Chemical Romance, give it a listen if you haven’t it is a masterpiece

Tags: @mcntsee​

              Kaz had never seen the Darkling before and he was surprised now that the man who had created the fold, lived for hundreds of years, barely looked a day over 25.  He glanced over at Jesper and Y/N, watching her get down from the horse and start walking towards the Darkling.  He panicked for a moment, getting off his own horse and handing the reins to Jesper. He pulled out his cane, not sure what he could do with it against a man who was considered the most powerful Grisha in existence, but he would go down fighting to protect Y/N.

              “What were you thinking Y/N?  Running off with these two?” Aleksander asked, motioning a dismissive hand to the Dregs.  Kaz glared. He looked to Y/N and saw her looking at him.  When their eyes met she shook her head and he knew what she meant.  Now that she had spilled her secrets to him he could see more in her eyes.  She wasn’t hiding herself from him anymore and right now she was clearly telling him to not start a fight, that she didn’t want to have to take on the Darkling now.

              “Aleksander, I couldn’t stay anymore in your shadow. Not when we both know that with the parem I would be more powerful than you.  I want your throne,” she said, lying through her teeth.  Kaz could see the obvious falsehood there, but apparently the Darkling didn’t know her as much as he thought.

              “Is that why you stole it?  The only useable vial of parem we had?” he asked.  Kaz froze.  So she hadn’t told him everything.  He looked over at her and watched her as she stared at Aleksander.

              “I couldn’t let you have it, not why I needed it,” she said.  “Leave now or I will use it.  I’ve already taken it.”  She was lying, Kaz had seen first hand when parem did to Grisha, there was no one she had taken it before they left.  He just hoped the Darkling believed her lie.  Aleksander scowled.

              “So this is it, another betrayal by a trusted friend? Well, you may have taken the parem but your friends haven’t,” he said, gearing up to perform the cut against Kaz.  

              “No!” Y/N screamed, reaching out with both hands and closing her fists.  Aleksander stopped, falling to his knees and groaning in pain.

              “What…is this…how…” he stammered out as she constricted his airwaves and his heart.  Kaz looked at her, seeing the desperation in her eyes, but he also saw the vengeance beneath it.  She wanted to kill the Darkling, make him suffer for everything he’d taken from her and for a minute Kaz was going to let her do it.  Then he remembered the look on her face when she talked about how many died at her hand, how much the pain wrecked her.  Aleksander had once been her friend, could she really handle killing another friend and not break entirely.  Kaz didn’t want to find out.

              “ Y/N!” he yelled, running over to her.  “Stop, send him away, as far as your winds can take him, but don’t kill him.  You’ll lose yourself more if you do.”  What was he saying?  Kaz Brekker didn’t care who got hurt.  Saints or whoever, damn this woman for what she was doing to him.  

              Once the Darkling was unconscious Y/N finally stopped. Kaz was right, she couldn’t kill more people she once cared about, it would take another piece of her soul and she didn’t know how much was left at this point.  She mustered up all the Squallor ability she could and sent Aleksander away, making sure that the wind would set him down softly.  When he was gone she turned to the other two.  Kaz looked relieved and Jesper was shocked.

              “How can you do you more than one thing?” he asked. “Did the parem really do that to you?”

              “I lied about the parem, I didn’t drink it.  I took the vial, and I smashed it right after we left the prison.  No one is taking the parem as long as we keep Kuwei away from the Second Army.  I’ve always been able to do multiple Grisha skills, but my Inferni skills were the strongest so I chose to train in that and hide the rest,” she explained.  Jesper nodded and smiled.  

              “Well, looks like we have a valuable weapon in our midst,” he said.   Y/N rolled her eyes, hating that she was once again being relegated to a tool for these guys.

              “No,” Kaz said softly.  “She’s not a weapon, she’s our friend and we need to get her to the resistance and help them.”   Y/N couldn’t hide her surprise at him.  She was sure once he knew that she had kept one last secret from him he would be furious, instead he was planning to help them.  She knew it could have been a lie, something to get them moving again, get her out of their hair quicker, but it didn’t seem like it.  

              “Kaz can I talk to you alone for a minute?” she asked, needing to sort out some things with him before she kept going.  He looked aggravated at the delay but nodded. Jesper took his cue and walked the horses to a nearby stream to drink.  “Look we have to at least address some part of this, whatever this is.”  She motioned between them and he scowled.  She knew he didn’t want to talk about it, but she had to make him.  They at least needed to establish some form of trust between them, something solid that they could stand and fight together one.  In Ketterdam Kaz and his group fought together as Dregs, but Y/N wasn’t one of them, she needed to establish something else with Kaz to make this work.

              “What do you want me to say?  I said you were our friend,” he snapped, not looking her in the eye.   Y/N sighed, looking at the ground.

              “Alright we are friends.  But you know there’s more to it, I know you feel it,” she said.

                Kaz hated all of this right now.  This whole conversation was making him want to leave her here and just travel on without her.  He would get his crew and get the hell out of Ravka, let her face the Darkling on her own.  Dammit he knew he couldn’t do that.  This woman made him soft for her and he wanted to rage against it, but what use was it?

              “Why in the hell would you want anything more with a crippled bastard anyway?” he asked, feeling his self-loathing seeping from his pores.  He could keep up his façade in front of anyone, pretend to be more than he was, criminal mastermind, leader of the Dregs, the Bastard of the Barrel, but for some reason she broke down that defense and here he was that sad boy that lost his brother and was still searching for a way to be whole again. He saw her reach a hand out before stopping and clenching her fist.

              “Kaz Brekker, you are single handedly the most amazing man I have ever met.  Capable of the most intense torture yet still willing to dance with me, you don’t let anything stop you from getting what you want.  You sir, are a criminal king in a blood soaked crown and personally I have never wanted to be anything more than a queen standing next to you,” she said. Kaz looked at her seeing that her face was flushed red, embarrassed to have gotten so honest with him.  He quirked his mouth into a smirk and she groaned. “Dammit, why can I never just keep my mouth shut around you.”  

              “O please don’t, I love to hear you heaping praise on me.  I like that bit about the crown,” he said, smirking more.  She glared at him and folded her arms across her chest.  “I’m not sure I’m ready for a queen, not in the way you would want me to be…”

              “Kaz I want you exactly the way you are.  Whoever you want to be I will want you,” she said. He could hear that she meant it. He didn’t have to fix himself or be more than he was with her.  “You could never touch me again and I will be fine, you never have to smile if you don’t want.  I’ve felt your hand and seen your smile and I will keep that memory fresh in my mind forever.”  

              “I had my gloves on when I touched you,” he said softly.  She smiled at him.

              “I’m alright with that.  I’m alright with you.”

              “I don’t know if I’m ready for a queen still, but as soon as I am you’re the first person I’m going to find,” he said.  He meant it, his heart was making a room for her to live there and once it was ready he would get a bloody crown to match his and give it to her.  He lifted up his gloved hand and put it against her lips.  “I promise.”  He felt her lips kiss his gloved finger and pulled away.  He took a deep breath, surprised that nothing had happened, no images of death or feelings of disgust.  She kissed his finger and he had just walked away to get Jesper and the horses.  

                As evening fell they decided to make camp near a stream. The group filled their canteens and built a small fire, eating some rations and donning their coats as the weather was starting to get colder as they moved further north.   Y/N built a small item out of her vest pocket and focused. Soon her guitar was in her lap and she was strumming it.

              “How did you do that?” Jesper asked as he took a seat next to her.  Kaz sat down on the other side of her, giving Jesper a look that said not to get too close. Y/N almost laughed.  He had been jealous the whole ride here, clearly wanting to hit Jesper with his cane again.  She knew it must irk him that others could get so close to her and he couldn’t.  She hoped the smile she gave him, one he almost returned, made him feel better.  

              “I just focus on the material and will to be smaller or bigger, I’m not sure how it works honestly,” she said, strumming a little.

              “You going to play us something?” Jesper asked. Y/N thought for a minute, trying to pull a song out of her head that they might know, but she couldn’t think of one. Then she got an idea.

              “I wrote a song a little while back, something I used to sing with Alina when I would visit her followers to give them messages,” she said.  I think it applies now, to all of us.”  She started the cords, stumbling at first as she tried to remember the exact notes she played before.  Once it came back she found a good rhythm.

“When the lights go out, will you take me with you And carry all this broken bone Through six years down in crowded rooms And highways I call home?”

           She could see Kaz listening intently, leaning forward to see her fingers move and hear her voice more.  She wasn’t a master singer she knew but no one had ever complained about her voice and seeing the look on his face she knew he liked it. Jesper bopped his head to the music she made and she smiled at him before looking back at Kaz as she sang.

“If you stay, I would even wait all night Or until my heart explodes How long until we find our way In the dark and out of harm? You can run away with me Anytime you want”

           She finished the song and found that Jesper had laid down during the singing and was fast asleep.  She chuckled and shrunk her guitar, putting it back in her pocket. She moved to put out the fire when Kaz waved his hand at her.

           “Not yet,” he said softly, looking at her. She nodded and moved to cover up Jesper before laying down herself, watching Kaz in the firelight.  His features were more pronounced like this, his edges sharp, eyes deep with depths she had just barely began to swim in.  She knew she shouldn’t take his words to heart, that she didn’t fully know that he could be believed.  He was an excellent liar, had duped almost everyone he had ever met, but she wanted to believe him so she did.  She would live this lie with him for as long as he let her.  Let him destroy her, she would die with a smile on her face.  

           “I love you Kaz Brekker” she whispered softly, not caring if he heard her.  He didn’t move so she assumed he hadn’t and she rolled over to fall asleep.

           Kaz watched the fire and heard ever word she whispered to him.  He felt the last piece of resistance waver and flee from his heart.  He heard her breathing steady beside him and knew she was asleep.  He placed his hand gently on her shoulder, testing again to see if the revulsion arose. When it didn’t, he actually smiled.

           “I love you too Y/N.”

[nyxicnymph]

The Curse On Hyrule

A Zelink Angst fic based off of some angsty theories for BoTW2.

Enjoy. Or not.

Link gasped for breath, bending over. Dammit, he was so close!

Stupid curses. Stupid magic. Stupid Calamity.

Link reached for the Master Sword with his right hand, before flinching and switching hands. He stared down at both his arms, the right black and blacker, with hints of green, and blue, and that stupid magenta. The left, shaking with the weight of the Master Sword, used to bearing shields or supporting longer weapons, but not wielding a weapon by itself. Link snorted at the irony.

He stood up, ignoring how more than half of his body almost wouldn't obey him. He had to get to Zelda.

Zelda, who knows everything. Zelda, who was close by. Zelda, who had fallen into that abyss at the time. Zelda, who had already been traumatized by one bearer of the cu-

Link cut that train of thought off. He raised his sword, using the shaky light to illuminate his path. He knew she was close. He could feel her. He would shout, but he couldn't.

The closer he got, the quicker he moved. He could feel the curse growing, gaining control of his right side. And moving faster, as if it could feel that the possible end to it's goal was close.

Link almost passed the opening, and had to use the Master Sword to keep himself from moving forward. He entered the cavern cautiously, scanning for traps and monsters. Surprisingly, and suspiciously, there were neither.

Link rushed to the huddled mass in the dark corner, reaching out to her, to let her know he was there, that he needed her help. Then he stopped.

The last time he touched a dark mass in a dark cavern, well. He'd ended up cursed, losing the l- Princess of Hyrule, and accidentally reshaping the entirety of the continent.

He opted for another way. He sheathed the sword, then tapped the sheathed sword against the princess.

She jumped up, battle ready, her golden locks framing her determined face, and backlit by her unlocked power glowing from her right hand. The power faded as she lowered her hand, and her face melted in relief.

"Link!" She leapt forward as if to hug him, but Link sidestepped her. When the princess turned to face him, hurt evident on her face, he lifted his right hand to eye level, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.

Zelda's own eyes widen as she took in the sight. "W-what happened to you, Link? Is this my fault? Is that why you-?" She choked up.

Link hurriedly shook his head. He pulled out his sheikah slate and pulled up an image of the corpse that started it all.

Zelda's face turned from concern to horror as it sunk in, and she fell to her knees. "No," she whispered softly. "No, it can't be. It doesn't... Does it?" She buried her face in her hands. "We have to fix this. There has to be a way."

Link wanted to help her up. His heart ached to see her that way, broken, on the floor, lost. But he can't touch her. He hadn't touched anyone since the curse, not even his enemies. He sure wasn't going to touch her.

He'd hate himself.

Zelda stood up, and brushed off her pants. "We'll figure this out. Have you gone to see Impa yet?"

Link shook his head. Zelda had and always would be his first priority, and she seemed to gather that.

"Well, then let's start with that. Impa has a good head on her shoulders, she should know what to do. And if she doesn't, she might have an idea." Zelda started walking, and Link, loyal as ever, followed behind.

<Kakariko Village>

"Have you tried using your power, Princess?" Impa suggested, grabbing Zelda's attention away from whatever she'd been glaring at.

"What? My power?"

"If my theory is correct, this curse...."

Link lost track of the conversation, trying to figure out what Zelda had been glaring at so intensely a moment ago. He glanced up the staircase to see Paya disappearing.

Oh.

The knight returned to the side of the princess, but didn't meet her eyes. He didn't want his mind to go down that road, for the sake of the worst-case scenario.

"Link, are you listening?" Impa's harsh voice pulled him out of his thoughts. Link nodded, and Impa scoffed. "You and the princess are going to the field overlooking the Zora domain, and she is going to try to remove your curse. Follow her instructions." Impa turned to Zelda. "Remember. Do not touch him, unless you are absolutely sure it has been removed."

Zelda nodded resolutely. "Understood."

At the field, Zelda and Link stood facing each other, all alone in a sea of green. Even the deer were gone. Link was surprised that the field remained, instead of being hoisted into the sky like many other parts of Hyrule had been.

Zelda cleared her throat. "Link, I have to see how far the curse has progressed." Link looked at her blankly, and Zelda averted her eyes. "You need to remove your shirt."

Link nodded, and did as the princess commanded, but slowly. He had hoped it wouldn't come to this. He hadn't wanted her to see how much of him had been taken over.

He hadn't wanted her to see him turning into a monster before her eyes.

"Link, I-" she stammered as she looked at his torso, two thirds blackened, and the remaining third crossed over with angular patterns. "I don't know what to say. How did it get this bad?"

Link signed that he thought it was hastened by activity against it, but he wasn't sure.

Zelda sighed, tears evident. "I pray this works. Lanayru help us." She raised her right hand, and it glowed.

Link closed his eyes, and opened his arms, as if to embrace the power that washed over him in the next second. He felt cold, then warmth, then a feeling like his nerves were tiny lightning bolts. Then it all faded.

"No!"

Link's eyes snapped open to see Zelda kneeling on the ground, her hands covering her mouth, and tears streaming down her face. He looked down and saw his torso had been completely blackened, and the hints of green, blue, and magenta were stronger than before.

"This was supposed to work!" The princess cried. "It was supposed to cure you! To cleanse you! What good-" She choked on a sob. "What good is this power if it can't even save my l- loyal knight?!"

Link knelt beside her, trying to comfort her with his presence, since he couldn't hold her. He signed:

I'm still here, princess. We will figure this out.

Zelda cried a while more, before wiping her tears away. "Let's go to the temple at the plateau. Maybe we will get a hearing from the goddess, and she will help us."

Link nodded. This was as close to a back-up plan as they had.

<The Temple, Great Plateau>

The sun shone on the two small forms kneeling in front of the large goddess statue. The figure on the right begging frantically, her tears soaking the stone beneath, and the figure on the left, silently crying as well, but more focused on his fingers than anything else.

How long until the left hand matched the right? Link knew it wasn't that long. He could feel the curse slipping through the veins and muscles of his left bicep, curling around his elbow.

He had to get Zelda away from him before he was completely taken over.

He sat up, which drew Zelda's attention. They turned to face each other, and Zelda looked at him questioningly. Link hesitatingly lifted his hands up, and signed:

I need you to run. Away from me. I'm afraid it's too late.

His hands movements were jerky, some of them uncoordinated. He almost couldn't control his own limbs, and Zelda noticed.

"No, Link! Even if you're consumed, I won't leave you! It's my fault we were down there! And so it's my fault you were cursed!" Her tears dropped, splattering the floor between them.

Link's own tears fell as he signed, And I can't have you being hurt because of me!

"But it's my fault!"

You're the only one who can stop me, Princess! You're the next most worthy of the Master Sword! Link signed in frustration, trying to get her to see his point.

"The... The Master Sword? Why?"

Because the Master Sword will be the only thing capable of killing me.

Zelda stood up and shook her head. "No! I refuse! I- There has to be another way! I will not kill you!"

You have to. Or Hyrule is doomed.

Zelda spun away. "I refuse to listen anymore! You will be fine! You-" She cut herself off when she heard a thud.

She gasped when she saw Link on the floor. "Link!" She halted her dash forward when a dark shadow came over the temple. She looked up and saw the clouds were purple.

She made to run to Link anyway, until he stopped her with a single sign.

No.

She saw the curse creeping up his neck, and she ran up to him regardless. "I refuse to let it end like this!" She told him as she grabbed him under the arms and tried to pull him away.

Zelda, please, for my sake, run!

"No!"

Zelda, please!

"I won't leave you!" She screamed, tears and sweat mingling on her face as she pulled him out of the temple.

You must! Link signed as the curse covered his chin.

"I'm not leaving you, so stop trying to make me!"

Zelda, you have to leave!

"Why are you so insistent I leave?!" Zelda cried as his body slid from her fingertips and hit the ground once more.

With incredibly, increasingly uncooperative fingers Link signed:

Because I love you.

The eyes of the knight met the eyes of the princess, and something passed between them. Link saw the fire in her gaze and knew he had said the wrong thing, but had no idea what. Zelda found confirmation of what she had been suspecting for months.

As the curse consumed Link, and the Master Sword fell to the ground, Zelda stepped forward. She picked up the sword, and felt it hum deep in her bones. She knew what she had to do.

Or rather, what was good for all of Hyrule.

"I've sacrificed myself for Hyrule once already!" She screamed at the sky. "Why should I do it again?!"

She threw aside the sword, and grabbed Link. "If you won't stay with me, than I'm going with you! I never want to be separated from you again! I owe you my life a hundred times over! I refuse to let it end like this!"

She pressed her lips to his, and refused to separate, even as she felt the curse flowing into her own body, moving faster than it had before.

As Princess Zelda died, she prayed one last time for a hero to save Hyrule. One worthy to wield the Master Sword, and stronger than she.

And if Hyrule wasn't saved?

Well, that's what the new calamities were hoping for, after all.

And thus fell the Hope, Princess, and Kingdom of Hyrule.

[vinylhazza]

Can you write a lil thing about confiding in your best friend (either twin) about your abusive relationship and then he helps you leave and shows you real love. I'm in a abusive relationship atm and I wish I had it :(

LEAVE HIM FOR ME (G.D)

warning: mention of physical abuse, trauma, mention of sexual abuse, angst, fluff

*italics are flashbacks/past conversations*

grayson would have been trying for so long to figure out where the bruises were coming from. he stopped at nothing to try and pry the information out of you until he finally started to back up after you got angry at him one evening for not letting it go.

“just let it the fuck go grayson, i fell. i told you that.” or “yeah straightener is a bitch you know? you’re not a girl you wouldn’t understand gray, i’m okay.”

you knew he was trying to help, but feared that giving them the knowledge would only make it worse. your jackass of a boyfriend was dangerous, you knew it even if he didn’t. he could hurt him, and that was the last thing on earth you would ever want - for grayson to be hurt. you would get teary eyes and a flustered blush when he noticed your frown at the mention of the bastards name. it was like a shock to your system. with grayson...everything was different. you weren’t weak. you weren’t some piece of meat that could be abused and used whenever he pleased. you weren’t a derogatory name that seemed to define you.

he kept you safe. he kept you warm when you shivered. he made sure you ate when he notices you haven’t touched a single piece of food all day, takes e time to cook your favorite meal of all. he would care for you, wait on your every hand and foot when you felt ill, make that special soup his ma taught him when he was younger, he knows how much it helps. he braids your hair to help you calm down, and he’s actually very good at it. something about the tenderness and care he gives you when he’s messing with your hair immediately eases your stress, and you don’t know it, but he has a small smile the entire time.

God that man would love the fuck out of you, just waiting in the shadows for you to see that he was right there, waiting to give you all the love that he could give. Grayson’s love language was physical touching, he loved to have his hair played with, back scratches, hugs that last too long, having your legs propped up over his lap as you watch a netflix special. he often watches you close in those moments, running his own fingers through your hair, deep slow massages, and sometimes....he even leaned in for a kiss on your cheek, your forehead, and when he was especially clingy, your neck. you didn’t think anything of, even tried to ignore the fluttering in your stomach - the butterflies swirling around like a tornadoe. and you especially ignore the clenching in your lower region, trying to convince yourself it’s not him in particular but the lack of affectionate touches you never receive from your boyfriend.

deep down, you know your heart tells you different. but you aren’t a cheater and how could you leave? you know he would come after you, after your family, after grayson, even after ethan if he’s as crazy as you thought he was.

the first time he hit you, was the first night he ever yelled at you as well. it had been sudden, out of nowhere, shocking. he was...not right that day. he was irritable, not really speaking to you all that much...just quite frankly being a dick. your love language is physical touch just like graysons, but...not that kind. you had just wanted to hug him, maybe give him a reassuring squeeze to let him know you were there to help him and be there for him through whatever it was he was struggling with. you know how hard it is to be in your own head and have no one to share your pain with.

but his hand slapping into like a tidal wave prevented that from ever happening.

“what the fuck is wrong with you?! can’t you see i want to be left the fuck alone?! are you fucking dumb?! get out!”

you spent the whole night crying, curled up on the couch with a blanket wrapped around you tight, a bag of frozen peas pressed up against your right cheek. in the morning when you woke up with a groan, you stumbled into the bathroom to find a black and blue bruise right along your cheek bone - a hateful looking mark. this...this wasn’t love.

“such a slutty, dumb little bitch. thinking you can wear that out and strut around like a whore? then i’ll treat you like a whore.”

he never apologized and the violence never stopped. the punches became more frequent, and it was getting so hard for you to hide them that you began making excuses: falling, fluke accidents that sometimes made no sense, dropping something, bumping into things. but everytime you made up a lie, it took a piece of you away. a piece of you that you felt would always in some way be connected to him. to his viscous words, actions, and those little moments that kept convincing you to stay.

you stayed for the rare moments he would smile, the times that would remind you of the man you fell for - the one that didn’t exist anymore. you knew you were foolish and anyone with a brain could see right through your stupid lies and excuses, but you simply avoided talking about him. he made you think it’s what you deserved. and after a while you believed it.

you stopped being sexually attracted to him in the very beginning, when the hitting first began...but he...he was a man of selfish desire. take what he wants and be on his way, keep treating you like dirt, keep kicking you while he knew you had no fighting chance. he took advantage of your body, used you like a toy and threw you away. made you think it was a yes even when you screamed no. a hand over your mouth, his tongue down your throat, you didn’t have a choice.

grayson knew it all along. he knew the bastard hit you. he knew the disgusting filth of a man you would go ‘home’ to. he knew it wasn’t your true home. your home was him. your home was grayson. but you had to keep him safe, hence the reason you never admitted to the consistent mental, physical, and sexual abuse. but grayson refused to do nothing, stand by and watch the women he loved suffer all alone, determined to be your knight in shining armor, save you from the villain trying to ruin your beautiful life so full of purpose.

“what am i supposed to do e? he’s hurting her, like really hurting her. the bruise on her neck isn’t a fucking burn it looks like a goddamn hand was choking her to death. what am i supposed to do? tell me what to do.”

Distraught was an understatement when it came to a teary eyed grayson sitting at the foot of his brothers bed. you had left after a movie night, having to lie to your boyfriend and tell him you were at a girlfriends house, you’ve already been beat up for even mentioning graysons name. you would never make that mistake again.

ethan sat straight up against his headboard, pulling at the stubble on his chin, brow furrowed with a concerned, and angry, scowl.

“the asshole thinks he can just get away with hurting her because she sits there and takes it...it’s killing me. God how did she get herself into this mess...i just feel...useless. i’m supposed to protect her e, that’s what you do for the people you love and i fucking fail her over and over again everyone i let her walk out the front door of this house,” grayson grumbled, leaning over the bed with his head in his hands. his shoulders were tensing, something that usually happens when he’s especially stressed or upset about something.

“i’m sure ‘taking it’ isn’t exactly what she’s doing. she’s scared. he’s a big guy gray, a dangerous guy, he can really do damage to her if she tries to fight him back,” ethan mutters, not wanting to make his brother more upset. it didn’t seem to be working, “you know this isn’t her fault and so do i gray. a man like that will stop at nothing to control her every move. it’s an act of dominance, control, he wants to rule every action, every thought, every move she might make. if we do anything, we need to do it fast, and do it in a clever way that won’t get her fucking killed by that psychopath.

“it’s just impossible to sit here and have her flinch when i try to touch her...i would never fucking hurt her. i never have. and i know it’s so hard for her to trust anyone with all of the shit she has to deal with...but God dammit i would move heaven and hell for that girl and i need to save her,” grayson sits up, a noticeable tear streaming down his face. his love was evident in his every word, “i’ll take my time. make her see she deserves better. whatever the fuck she needs to convince her to leave that dumbfuck, i’ll do it. i just need help e, that’s all i’m asking.”

“of course gray, you know i got your back. and i have y/n’s too. we are gonna get her away from that creep and show her what real love is. not that fake disgusting shit he claims it is. doesn’t even know what the fuck it means and he has no business using that word frankly.” ethan’s tone is clipped, sharp, and deep - he would do whatever he could to get away just like grayson would. granted he’s not in love with you, but he doesn’t have love for you, and he would still do anything to protect you, “but be patient with her. a guy like that stops at nothing to tear down a woman until she thinks she deserves what’s coming to her. she accepts the pain because she is trained to live in silence. we need to break that silence and make sure that she knows it’s okay to tell us and we would never put her in danger.”

there is silence for a moment, full of tension, worry, for their friend. graysons worries if he speaks, he might cry. instead he ops for bouncing his knee in a steady rhythm, something you taught him to do when he felt restless. and it helps. but with a deep breath he’s turning back to ethan.

“okay so, how do we do it?” grayson stands, ready to take on whatever it is to get her in his arms safe and sound. even if that means hurting her jackass of a boyfriend. hopefully soon to be ex, he thought.

“well, i think maybe tricking her into a little intervention is the only way to go about it. or maybe one of us can convince her to spill the beans. it might be too much on her if we both start hounding her with questions she’s scared to answer. i’m sure some of them are very personal. we can’t freak her out, she’s already so fragile.” grayson knew he was right. he needs to proceed with caution. maybe if he could convince her he’s who she belongs with...confesses to his desires and wishes maybe she would have the strength to leave. if that’s even what she wanted. if not it would ruin their friendship and she would still be in a bad situation.

“true...if we go to their apartment fists up and ready to fight, it will probably make it worse and fall back on her. she’s doesn’t need any more problems than she already has. i mean hell, she’s even scared to sleep anymore,” grayson ponders. he remembers the nights she would stay over when her boyfriend was away gallivanting with whatever floosy he could find. cheating abusive bastard that he was. then it dawned on him.

“what if, and hear me out, what if we just move her out and have her live with us? i mean the guy doesn’t know where we live and fuck it i’ll get security if i have to. we’ve been needing it for a while anyway. she would be safe, protected, and with her closest friends who wouldn’t let a damn thing happen to her,” grayson tried to explain himself, gauging ethans reaction to see if he had a disapproving face.

to his surprise, he didn’t. in fact, it was like a lightbulb clicked inside of his head. with a clap of his hands he’s standing.

“that’s actually a great idea. i don’t know when he leaves or whatever the dumbfuck does but when he does we can go over there and get all of her stuff out and move her in here. we just have to make sure we know when he leaves, when he comes back, and most importantly if she will even say yes.”

it was three days after when you finally stopped by. the bruises on the left side of your neck and cheekbone fading away. graysons heart broke every time he saw the purplish hue on your face. he would kill him if he could. he would do whatever it took to keep you safe. he just had to do it like a civilized human being. he knew that at least if you’re on his property and your stupid bitch if a boyfriend came by...well let’s just say he wouldn’t be so forgiving.

he pulled you into the backyard with the sun just sinking under the horizon. he wondered how you managed to sneak away without a scratch, but hopefully it would be the last time you had to.

“i need to talk to you about something,” grayson started, pulling at your hand to bring you further into the backyard, standing in the grass just beside the pool. he was nervous, palms sweating already. this was a big moment, and it could change everything for them.

“is it about the last piece of banana bread? cause i ate that like a week ago and if you just now noticed maybe you don’t really love it like you claim you-“ you started, teasing him with a smile. always the jokester. he wondered how you found the strength the smile. but he cut you off before you could finish. his frown had your smile wilting.

“i know he’s hitting you. don’t try and hide it either like you always do. you always try and cover up his abuse and his fucking disgusting behavior. and i understand you’re scared, y/n. but this ends now. i don’t care what i have to do to make you see you deserve better but this...this isn’t it. you have so much to give and deserve someone that would burn the whole fucking world down to keep you safe. so stop pretending and tell me the truth.” there it was. that face he was dreading. the face of absolute terror.

he knew. he fucking knew.

you thought you had been good at hiding it from him, from everyone really. even your mother loved your boyfriend. she often said he was “good for you” that she was happy you found him when you did because “he’s the only one that’s really ever gotten you under control”. you haven’t talked to her in months, to say the least.

grayson recieves a chest rattling silence. something he wasn’t expecting from a girl that was known for word vomit and stuttering all over herself trying to get a thought out fast enough before it slipped away. but you stared at him with wide, misty eyes. you were scared - frozen in his backyard. you couldn’t believe he had come right out and called you on your bullshit. but you knew it was coming, you tried your hardest to hide it, but grayson wasn’t stupid.

with a slow shake of your head, you swallow the tears threatening to escape your eyes. you won’t be weak in front of grayson. you spent so much time being weak because of him, but no, not in front of grayson. he deserved better than someone that couldn’t even escape a white boy she fell for after a run in at the movie theater. he deserves someone that can fight for herself.

“so you know. you and ethan i’m assuming?”

a nod with more silence. he is watching you, not exactly staring, but certainly focused on watching you try and hold yourself together. you know ethan is somewhere close by, watching this go down from his own little hide out. you’re half tempted to yell out to the house and tell him to get the hell out there and face you, but then you know you’d have to confess the truth in front of not one, but two of the most important people in your life.

“...what then? you want me to sit here and cry? you want me to break down and talk to you about all the times i’ve come over here and lied? pretending everything was okay and putting a smile on my face? because believe it or not this is my safe place and i’d rather not think of him. you make me forget. i just wanted to forget and i know that hurts you that i didn’t say anything but i don’t know what i’m supposed to do right now gray...” your voice is thick with emotion, hands coming up to twist at the flowy tank top resting on your torso. it suddently became very chilly in the backyard that felt previously warm in the suns dying moments until morning.

“i’m not letting this go. not like all those times before. i had my suspicions, had those little clues that would pop out when i reached to tuck your hair out of your face, or help you with the laundry you still do even when you don’t have to. you would jump, y/n...from me. and i would never,” he swallows, you can feel all the strength it’s taking him not to show you just how much he wants to cry, “i would never, hurt you. there isn’t a bone in my body that would ever touch you in any way other than love and adoration. i know it’s because of him. he’s - he’s fucking sick, y/n. he’s twisted and made it almost impossible for you to live a normal life. you snuck over here didn’t you? it’s nearly 8.” you know he won’t let it go until you answer, so you give him another small nod, biting at your bottom lip and flinching at the tear that drops down onto your cheek. it would wash away that pathetic layer of concealer you put on, exposing more of the purplish bruise he left there.

“where is he? let me guess - he said he was going to “tanners” right?” his voice remains calm, with just a hint of a grit there to show how truly disgusted he was by the man that abused you time and time again.

another nod and small sniffle.

you felt like a child getting caught by your parents for sneaking out.

you and grayson both knew there was no tanner. there was and never would be. it was just another girl he decided to fuck around with before coming back to control you, make you feel like the disloyal one. make you feel like the monster.

“and what happens when he comes back and you’re not there huh? what happens if he comes back early and wants you to text him a picture of where you are? actually fuck that have you even thought that maybe the psychopath put a tracker on your phone? ...why are you back away? hey hey come here it’s okay i’m not mad at you,” grayson is trailing off into an apology when he notices the distance beginning to grow between your two bodies. he was near yelling at the end of his little speech and you’ve learned enough to know what yelling means. of course he said he wouldn’t hurt you, but that’s exactly what he said in the beginning too. and look where you are now.

before you can back away from his touch any further, he’s tugging you into a hug, cradling the back of your head against his chest. his heart beat was steady, the calm thumping easing your own nerves. he never held you like this. grayson wasn’t him. it was unfair to be afraid of everyone because someone tried to stifle your fire. with your body tucked into his arms, grayson rocks side to side on the bottom of his shoes, eyes closed and chin resting on the top of your head. you liked to be held when you’re upset and overwhelmed and he knew it. it helped ground you.

he’s pulling away too soon, swiping a hand through his hair in frustration. you know it’s hard for grayson to express his emotions sometimes. giving him the same patience he gives you is the least you could do. you stand quietly in front of the tall block of muscle, arms crossed once again - a comfort mechanism you’ve taken up over the past few months - and wait for him to sort his thoughts out and try again.

“i didn’t mean to yell but dammit, y/n. i mean it when i say you can trust me. i know he’s ruined so many things but this - us - isn’t going to be one of them. he doesn’t get the satisfaction of pushing us apart. you -“ a huff “you’re too...special to let go. and it’s his own fault he can’t see it.” from the dead serious look in his hazel eyes, you know he means every word.

you wouldn’t say grayson is entirely closed off, especially when he’s always touching you in secret, tender ways when no one else is looking. he tells you secrets he’s scared to tell anyone else. he’s not a secret. he’s just in some way...scared just like you.

“gray i don’t know what to tell you...it’s not as easy as you’re making it seem. and yeah he has ways of tracking me i’m sure, but i can’t just go without you you idiot. that would kill me. it would fucking break me and i hate that you’re making me admit it.” he frowns at the break in your voice.

“leave him,” graysons voice is soft, but more serious than you’ve ever heard it. so deep rooted with...something you can’t quite catch...that it makes you shiver.

“gray...”

it’s not that simple. you can’t leave a man that has his grip on you too tight. you can’t just leave a man that has made it his goal to make sure it never happens. you can’t just leave because you wish to be with the love of your life...you can’t just...want love when you’re trapped with no hope of escape. especially when that very same person whose love you yearn for is promising it to you, unknowing of the sure consequence.

he doesn’t give you a chance to turn him down, say anything more that will certainly be a way to weasel yourself out of this. he knows you’re in denial, denial of what there is blossoming between you, the bod consuming desire to always be touching whenever you are together - whether it be a pinky hooked around another, an arm over your shoulder, an arm around his waist, fingers massaging at your scalp. whatever it was, it was real.

“might i make a suggestion gray?” ethan frowns, biting at the skin of his bottom lip, now raw with his anxious assault.

“whatever it is make it good because i’m not changing my mind,” grayson grunted, slicing his bananas at a quicker pace. he’d have to build up strength for this conversation, lord knows it’s going to tire him out. you’re a tough one to crack. another reason that he fucking loved you so much.

“tell her how you feel before it’s too late. i’m sure you’ll be pleased with the outcome.”

how could he be so sure?

fire twists in your tummy as grayson inches towards you, eyes narrowed right at your own misty orbs. with irises blown out and black, he tucks that cussed piece of hair behind your ear. with his fingers feathering across the skin of your cheekbone, another tear drops to your cheek. it streaks a hot river across the skin, chipping away that milky concealer, a mask to hide the evil. the way he gazed at you like you were and always would be the most beautiful treasure, only made you confirm to yourself that it was torture to love someone you were scared to have.

“i know you feel this...don’t fight it...just let me show you how good this can feel...how it’s supposed to feel” his voice had switched from one of raw emotion to one of earnest and...need.

within an instant he is grabbing your face and pulling you close by the back of your neck, a hand digging deeply into your mane of hair. he made a fist to secure you to him, afraid if he let go you might disappear. another hand was pressed against your cheek - being careful to not apply direct pressure to your bruise, instead rubbing it tenderly with his thumb. his touch not only eased the pain, but the memories that matched themselves to it. soft plump lips landed on yours perfectly with a hum resonating in his chest. it was a pathetic, needy sound - one that made you aware that he really meant it. he’s been waiting for this. to have your lips smashed up against his. it was like an itch he’s been waiting to scratch, now relieved. he takes his time to let himself feel his way through the kiss - initially feeling your shocked lips at a stand still.

he almost backs away in defeat, but then... you’re sighing, a satisfied, eager sigh tossed between the two of you. biting at his bottom lip felt like a burst of unashamed power coursing through your veins. your tiny nimble fingers are tugging at his white cotton t-shirt and pulling him even closer if possible, goose flesh tracking from your shoulders down to your fingertips. youve kissed let that be known, a guy here or there, but none of those kisses had ever felt like this. before registering how much trouble you would get in if he ever found out what you were doing and how good it felt doing it, you are tilting your head to the side and moving your lips against his greedily. humming into his mouth and pushing your front against his flat. fuck his kiss felt so good. his lips were patient and languid, lapping like smooth waves of the ocean. persistent.

his hands made sure to move your face just the right way, get just the right angle, sure he could feel you turning weak at the knees already. not anything like any other kiss you’ve been given. it’s patient, tender, purposeful - that purpose being to convey just how much you mean to him and always will mean. the way he’s kissing you is a desperate move to tell you how he feels without having to say it just yet. this is everything you’ve ever wanted but never knew you could have, or feel, or want.

his tongue is slipping into your mouth when you gasp in shock at the electric fire burning through your senses and into every nerve in your body. your hands feel tiny on his massive biceps, but he loves the feeling of your thumbs rubbing at his skin while he kisses you so deep. your tongues danced together, the kiss stealing your breath away. it was fierce and passionate, everything you thought kissing him would be like. you had daydreamed about this moment forever, and you couldn’t believe it was finally happening. especially not like this. not when you’re a damsel in distress, waving your pathetic hand at the top of the tower in hopes your knight in shining armor would come and save you. the day had finally come.

he’s pulling away slowly, begrudgingly, panting from working his mouth so hard against yours. wanting to take it farther than a kiss, but understanding enough to know it would take a lot more time to be at that poin - no matter how bad you both wanted it. your trauma lurked beneath the surface, a fight for another day. he poured everything into that kiss. the rosy red color of his skin being a testament to that. he hoped you knew just how much it meant to him. from the way you stared at his mouth in a trance, he knew it meant just as much to you. the look of wanting in your eyes made him shiver.

“you want me?”

the best you give him is a puffed out “yes” between your lips, staring at his own longingly. it was a pathetic sound, a cringe fighting to shrink in your shoulders and hide yourself from him, but you accepted it as it came. you wanted more. you thought for a split second that you couldn’t imagine never feeling that again. electric. strong. like fireworks igniting in your body over and over. your eyes travel slowly from his mouth to his soft wishful eyes, feeling the sudden urge to cry again.

“leave him for me,” his whisper is pained, vulnerable and aching for you to want him back. need him back. love him back.

“but i can’t have you, you know i can’t. he won’t allow me to leave him.” God it killed you to even say it. You wanted to throw caution to the wind, and in a way you had, but to throw it all out would mean putting him in the line of fire - and you didn’t know if you could bare seeing him burnt.

“yes you can, you can have me. every hour of everyday. you can fucking have me. you have always had me, y/n. i think you know that. i can’t lie anymore. not when it means this much to me. he won’t keep you a prisoner. i refuse for it to happen. i know you want this as much as i do. i feel it. i’ve always felt it. if you don’t leave for you, then leave for me. just...you have to let me protect you.”

the way he says it, just holding you in place, forehead resting against yours in an attempt to stop the tears bubbling behind his eyes. it killed him to see you caged like an animal when you wanted so badly to be free. he would do whatever the fuck he needed to do and he swore his life on it. whether you believed it or not.

“but how? he’s a psycho grayson the man beat me for getting gas without telling him. i was gone for 5 minutes.“

“i know sh, i know it sounds crazy and reckless,”

“really reckless,” you tutted, popping your lips out in a dissatisfied pout. it was cute but he needed to focus.

“- just hear me out. me and ethan have a plan that involves no contact, and if he does show up i don’t think you are underestimating the lengths we will go to, to make sure he doesn’t lay a finger on this beautiful body of yours. he doesn’t get to have you anymore, he abused that privilege, literally. he didn’t appreciate and cherish what he had so now it’s over. you won’t ever have to see him again. but it’s gonna take a little cooperation and for you to be that sneaky little detective i know that you are.” he waits for your reaction, confused that your eyes are still closed, your thumbs still rubbing at his forearms. it was peaceful. for the first time, you felt protected. and really understood. important. valued. loved. whole fuck you felt loved.

“i don’t know how much help i can be,” you choked, voice a lot weaker than you wanted it to sound. truth is, it was taking every bone in your body not to kiss him again, get that fire ignited again. but you had to focus. one battle at a time. beat the dragon, then you get the prince.

“how about this, you and i, we go back in the house, i’ll sit you down on the counter - yeah that’s right the counter - because i don’t give a fuck if ethan thinks it’s unsanitary. i’m gonna cook you you’re favorite meal, kiss those beautiful lips for as long as i want,” he pauses to dip his head down, pecking your lips slowly as an example, a butterfly flew through your core, wings licking at the buzzing nerves, “and explain every tiny detail until you understand just how serious we are about getting you away from that sick creep. i may be persistent but my brother is a determined mother fucker too and he cares about you, y/n. as much as he loves to tease you and throw his little tantrums when you eat the last piece of pizza - he cares so much. and he wants you to be safe. to be with us. be with me...if that’s what you want.”

“as in like...live with you? are you sure that’s a good idea? i mean i kind of have a crazy guy on my back you sure you guys want that baggage?” you’re tone is lighthearted and witty, but he knows that’s just you trying to hide how nervous you were.

“you know, when you love someone, their baggage becomes your baggage. you have that weight together and find the strength to carry it along the way. at least that’s what i’ve found out.”

when you love someone

when you love someone

when he loves someone

when grayson loves...

he loves you

“you love me?” the gleam in your eye is too obvious to miss, the excitement of a child, the joy of a rich man, the satisfaction of a sinner, the bliss of a saint.

“maybe a little,” he grins, lips dropping onto random areas of your face, making their way slowly down, down, down to your blush pink lips. the feeling of them puckering had him pulling you closer again.

“is it too much to ask that you say it again? just for good measure.” your request has him chuckling in your ear, hair tickling you when he bobs his head in a nod.

“i love you,” he sighs, finger hooked under your jaw to tilt your head to the side, sealing his lips down onto yours again. breathing in the sweet scent of your perfume. it drowned his every sense.

it felt so fucking good to say that.

it sounded like your favorite melody. and somehow, as cheesy as it sounded, it gave you strength. gave you that extra power you needed to know that this life did have a purpose beyond pain and misery. it had people like grayson. people like ethan. people that cared about you. people that protected you. people that were ready to do anything they had to do just to make sure you knew how loved you really were.

“i love you too.” it slipped out without you knowing. your hand itched to slap over your mouth, cover up the ultimate betrayal against the monster somewhere off in LA cheating on you again, planning his next attack against you. but no, you wouldn’t feel guilty about loving him. not when it’s the strongest emotion you’ve ever felt. not when it was the truth. and not when he’s cradling you in his arms promising a future beyond the pain and sadness you’ve been stuck in for so long. so for good measure, and just because it felt like a breath of fresh air, you say it again, “i love you.”

“oh fuck,” he breathes through a disbelieving grin, picking you up by the back of your thighs and spinning you around in circles. your legs hooked around his waist tightly, squealing laughter echoing throughout the backyard. this is the freest you’ve felt in so so long. he slows down to a sway once again, turning your head to kiss you slowly, pushing his tongue between your lips to dance with yours again.

“slow down, slow down, we still have something to do yeknow,” you breathe, a lazy smile aimed at his own delighted eyes. he looked so free and it shocked out for some reason that you were the cause of that look.

“no no you’re right i’m sorry, i’m just happy. feels good when you know the girl you love is safe for once. but i guess we do have to go talk to ethan about the insufferable douchebag you chose to date for whatever ungodly reason. must have had a magical dick or something cause the man is lacking in all other categories,” grayson mocks, setting you back into the flats on your feet and imtertwining your fingers together, leading you back toward the house where you presume ethan is waiting somewhere close by.

“actually no, he never really uh...finished the job in that department. was kind of selfish. but i managed,” you tut, rubbing your thumb over the skin on his hand, loving the feeling of him against you in any way you could get. you knew you were so touch starved, but didn’t care if it felt this good.

he stopped at the sliding glass door, face dully lit by the yellow of the light from the kitchen, pointing a defined eyebrow at you in a displeased scowl, the fucker didn’t even make you cum? with a shake of his head he’s sliding the glass door open, ready to talk to his brother and start the plan for your escape. hes ready to see you thrive again. he knows neither he, nor ethan will rest until you have shaken every form of contact with the spineless monster you’re controlled by daily. this plan will be his religion until it is completed. he turns his head to look at you, a smirk on his delicious soft lips, licking at them quickly.

“we will be changing that, make no mistake.”

[shsl-otaku]

Where Greed Goes, Despair Follows: Chp. 8

Y/N: Raven Sin of Despair

Pairing: Ban & Y/N

Anime: Seven Deadly Sins

Genre: Adventure, Romance

Warnings: Gore

Tag List: @asgleo16 @yuri-2018 @vialuciferscage @supremeladyren @commanderawkward @chidayasays @misfitgirlwrites @amberfoxcosplay @catlover7722 @shiggi-trash @supremetodoroki @happynoodle @remikay313 @milkysamu

•••

You stood out on the porch, watching as the mountains slowly went by. You had left The Forest of White Dreams yesterday, escaping Gilthunder. Your heart felt heavy remembering what you had seen and felt. You took a shaky breath.

Elizabeth went to check on Meliodas last night and found him passed out on the floor. Meliodas had fainted from blood loss from his shoulder wound. Hawk’s mom was currently on her way to the closest village to get help. Coincidentally, it’s nearby Baste Prison.

'Ban,' you thought. 'I’m coming.'

You turned to look at Diane, who was walking alongside Hawk’s mom.

"Diane," you said. "When we get to the village, I need you to watch over Meliodas, Elizabeth, and Hawk. I’m going to Baste Prison."

"Eh?! Y/N, you’re going to go there by yourself?!" She gasped.

"I’ll go first and wait for you guys there. I’ll come straight back if I see you guys are in trouble. But I am getting Ban back. No matter what," you said, eyes glinting red in determination.

She smiled at you. "You miss him, don’t you?"

You looked away, hiding your face behind your hand. "He loves Elaine, remember?" Despite your feelings for Ban, you've always tried to put his happiness over yours, even if it meant that he'd love someone else.

"But you never know," she said. "A lot can change in 10 years. He might like you back!"

You smiled at the thought. "Maybe... but if he still love Elaine, then I will most definitely put his happiness over mine."

Diane smiled. "You're so sweet, Y/N. I hope Ban can see how good you are for him."

You laughed. "I don’t know about that, but... maybe."

•••

Hawk’s mom dropped off Hawk, Elizabeth, Diane, and Meliodas at the village. You told Elizabeth and Hawk that you planned on going to Baste Prison first to get Ban and that you would come back when you got him or if anything happened.

You sprinted in the direction of Baste Prison. Your hood covered your face in a shadow, your red eyes illuminated underneath.

You grumbled to yourself as you ran. 'Ban you idiot! Out of all the places you could've gone to! Out of all the prisons you could've gone to! It just had to be this one! Dammit, I'm gonna slap him when I find him.'

You could see Baste Prison, its mushroom-like buildings in the distance.

'Whatever. Just keep going. You're almost there,' you thought, a smile coming onto your face. You felt your heart start to lighten. You felt like a weight had lifted off of your shoulders. You thought back to the nightmares and the heartsickness that you felt for the past ten years.

'Ban... I’m so close. I’m almost there. I really do love you, don’t I? Idiot.'

Suddenly, you felt a presence start to appear above you. You stopped running and glared up at the sky.

You heard a woman’s laugh and saw a Holy Knight whose magenta armor reminded you of a bug. "Y/N, Raven Sin of Despair. You must be after your fellow sin, aren’t you?"

You glared at her. "What did you do to him?"

"Nothing much. Just caused him immense pain for the past ten years. Fitting for a criminal." You clenched your fists, starting to get pissed off. "Too bad you won’t be able to make it there."

She lifted her arms and unleashed thousands of bugs. Your eyes widened as you smelled their poisons. 'They’re all venomous and will kill everyone if I let them reach the village. Meliodas, the others—!'

"You will be defeated and I will bring back your head to Liones as a gift to the Grand Masters," the Holy Knight continued. "And then the world will know my name: Freesia, member of the Weird Fangs—"

You thrusted your arm out, summoning thin, needle-like stalagmites to appear and pierce through every single bug.

"You talk too much," you deadpanned, watching as the bugs' venom dripped down the stalagmites.

Freesia gasped. "My bugs! You killed all of my precious bugs! Ugh!" You lifted your hands and summoned stalagmites to impale her, but they shattered off her armor, not leaving a single scratch.

"W-What?" You gasped.

Freesia laughed. "Do you like it? My armor is made of one of the strongest substances in the world. It was a gift from our two Grand Masters. Your stalagmites can't kill me."

You tried to summon more stalagmites, but she flew right into them. They all shattered off her armor, the shards raining down on you. She flew down and cut your cheek. She kicked you in the ribs, sending you flying into the valleys.

Your head snapped back and hit the hill behind you. You cried out as you felt a crack. Your e/c eyes shifted to red for a moment, then returned to e/c. You could feel warm blood running down your head. You tried to stand up but you saw bright spots dancing whenever you opened your eyes.

You tried to hold onto something, only for her to drag you down by your hair. You screamed as she dug her armored heel into your spine.

She brought down the hilt of her sword onto your arms and you heard a sickening crack. You screamed again, your eyes blurring with tears. She laughed and dragged her sword down your arms, cutting them.

"My sword has my bugs’ toxins infused in it, so there’s no way you'll be able to make it out alive." The cuts on your arms hissed from the venom, making you scream more. She laughed. "It’s a shame though. I would’ve been able to kill your beloved Ban in front of you. Oh well. His suffering from your death will be pleasant enough. I would be able to laugh in his face and tell him that you were too weak you to save him." She raised her sword over her head and brought it down on your neck.

"W-What?!" She screamed, the shards of her now shattered sword raining down on her.

You slowly turned your head all the way around, your bones cracking loudly. "Ẫ̸͙̝͎͠Ȟ̸̟̼̕Á̵̦͈H̶̙̼̺̑͆À̶̼H̵͕͌Ả̸̙̫̈́͐H̴̝̓Ǎ̵͎̺̫H̸̠̺̊̉̀͜Ḁ̶̢͊͜H̸̰͖͊͝A̷̛̙͍̘̍̔H̵̯͚̥̆̈́Ḁ̴̋͌H̴̛́͘ͅA̴͍͆̈́̈́H̴̨͕͑̿Ä̴̹̫̯́͊!"

Freesia gasped and jumped up onto a ledge, staggering back.

You floated off the ground and smiled at her gruesomely. She stared in horror as you grinned back at her. Your hood was down, revealing blood running down your temple, nose, and mouth, your h/l h/c floating like a halo around you, your blood red eyes. Blood and poison dripped from your cut and twitching limbs. The grass around you withered and died, forming a circle of death around you. You laughed madly, despair and rage rippling off of you.

You held your hand out towards her, paralyzing her. She shrieked and thrashed, trying to get out of this invisible grip. You slowly began to close your hand, the grip around her starting to crush her armor. You laughed. You floated closer until you were just a few inches from her face.

You laughed again. "H̸͍̓Ǎ̷̝H̷̻̊!̴̹́ ̴͈̈́T̷͙̊H̸̼͛A̴̬͛Ṯ̵̏ ̷̧̐W̴͎̄H̴̬̀Ȏ̵̹L̶̒ͅE̴̛͜ ̸̝͐T̴̽͜H̵͙͐I̸͇͛N̴̦̈́G̴̢͐ ̵̯͛W̸̛̥Ȧ̴͜S̴̖̍ ̶̙̅J̵͕́Ũ̵̫Ś̵̝Ṭ̸͌ ̷͚͌A̶͙͛ ̶̙̈́L̴̫̚Ḯ̶̳E̸͍̒!̶͚̚ ̸̢̈́Y̸̭͑ö̸̮́u̵͔͋ ̴͍͗r̶͉̊e̸̛͔a̴͛ͅl̷͉̓l̵͍̓y̵̰͊ ̸̩͌t̴̪͘h̸̠́ö̸͉ų̶̌g̵̞̏h̶̳̎t̶̪̚ ̷̱̋I̸̳̿'̵̤͆d̵̖̀ ̵̖̈l̶̘̕ë̵̬t̵͕͌ ̴̳̊m̴̠̃y̶͔̐š̸̘ẻ̷͎l̶̥̈́f̶̣̂ ̴̱͠b̸̳̾e̷͙̋ ̶̭̉b̴̡̍ȇ̸͎a̷̞͝t̶̢͒e̶̳̚ǹ̶̰ ̵̠́b̵̼̈y̵̡͋ ̶̅͜ș̸͝ć̵͔ų̶̊m̸̖̎ ̷̥̒ĺ̸͔ĭ̵̠k̶̢̾e̸͇͌ ̴̮̃ỹ̷̜ō̴̟u̸̳͘¿" You stared at her. "I̷̤̊ ̵͒͜w̷͚̋ǎ̵̫n̸̳̊t̷̤͊è̵͓d̵̝̓ ̶̭͑y̵̚ͅo̴̤͐u̷̯͛ ̷̛̣ṯ̵͑o̴̙͒ ̷̤̓ḟ̴̳e̷̡͠e̵͍̚l̶͉͗ ̵̩̿l̶͖͊ḯ̵̳k̸̦̈́e̸͉̓ ̷̮̽y̶̗̐ọ̸̏u̵͔͗ ̷̓ͅw̸̮̋o̶̲͋n̷̩͘.̶̳̅ ̴̮̓I̴͇͂ ̴̪͂w̶͚̓å̶̹s̴̡͝ ̶̢̈́l̸̻̓y̶̡̅i̵̖͐n̴̫̆g̸̳̈́ ̵̗͝a̶̹͝l̸͓̑l̷̟̑ ̸̯̽a̴̻͝l̷͇͋ŏ̸̲n̷̺͝g̴͚̏.̵͈̋ ̴͔̄Y̶̜̋o̷͕͊ų̷̽ ̶͇̊ṟ̴͂ě̸̩a̸̛͔l̵̘̄l̷͚͝y̷̢̆ ̵̞̌t̸̞̓h̷̨̿ô̴̞ǔ̷̲g̷͇͒h̸̺̀t̶̘̓ ̴̻́y̸̪̐ȍ̵͕u̵̯͑ ̴͍̓c̵̹̈́o̵͚̒u̸̧͠ḽ̷̇d̸͖̉ ̸̘͘b̶̥͒e̴̫͝a̶͚͂t̸͎̅ ̵͕͝m̵̭̐e̴͍̓?̵̲̓ ̶͚̅F̵̦̀ô̸̮o̵͓͛l̵̛̹.̷̥̕"

Freesia stared at you in horror, tears streaming down her face. 'She's insane,' she thought.

"A̶̧̎n̶̫̓d̸̰͑ ̸͖̕n̵̪̋ò̴̝w̶͉̎ ̸͙̔y̴̯̕o̸̖̎u̶͙̿ ̸͈̊ẅ̵̘í̸̙l̷̺̃l̴͇̔ ̷̤̃f̸̬͗e̶̲͐e̶̫̋l̷͓̏ ̷̯̚t̵̥̿ḩ̴̓e̶̩͑ ̷̜̑ḋ̷̦e̶̳̽s̸̡͝p̵̩̽a̷̤͠i̵̥̊r̷̳̈́ ̶̯̃o̸͎̽f̴̺̉ ̵͕͗d̴͈͊y̴̙͝i̶̩̕ņ̵̄g̴̥͂ ̶̱̒a̸̰̓ṱ̵̍ ̵͎̾t̴̟́ȟ̶̼e̵̟͊ ̴̛͔ä̷̟́t̶̩̕ ̷̧̎t̵̬̂h̴̬͐e̶̬͑ ̵͍̐h̸̙̐ǎ̸͈n̸̠͝d̴̛ͅs̴̞͋ ̴͎̃o̷͕͌f̵̲̌ ̴̗͝t̵̯̂h̴͇͒ȩ̵̐ ̴̭̃p̸͕̊ē̴̡r̷͕͂s̴̱̄ö̶̱n̵͔̏ ̸̨́y̸̼̓ȍ̷̪u̵̢̓ ̴̟͋s̴̡̃o̶͚̓u̵͔͛g̷̣̏h̸̡͒t̸͇̆ ̶̐ͅo̸͑ͅú̷̙t̴̝͒ ̴̘͌t̶͉͆o̸̮̾ ̵̳̋k̵͔̑ì̴͕l̶̛̺l̷̼͊.̸͎͝ ̷͎̔H̷̝̓o̷̡̽ẘ̶̯ ̷̜͛d̸̻̎o̵̝͊e̶̅ͅš̴͖ ̵̭̈i̷̱̽t̴̫̕ ̶̼́f̷̤̄e̸͕̋e̴̼̐l̶̥͊,̶̦̈́ ̷̝͋k̷̻͠n̸̥̾o̴̦̽ẘ̸̫ǐ̶̺ň̸̞g̴͎̀ ̵̮̂ṫ̴̰h̵̜̋ą̷̓t̶͎̎ ̷̺̿M̸͙͊Y̵̻͊ ̴̩͠F̸̗̏A̷̪͆C̷̲̀Ẻ̴͇ ̶̝̚W̷̬̎Ï̶͕L̵̢̏L̶̫͒ ̵̟̓B̷͕͛E̶̙̊ ̵͉̿T̸̯̎H̸͓͆E̷͍͐ ̶̳͝L̵̪͛Ä̴͇́S̸͓̓T̶͔̓ ̵̬̋O̸̼͒N̷̖̊E̷̙͊ ̸̺͛Y̵̛͚O̶̺͌U̴̠͛ ̷̙̏Ẽ̵̢V̵́͜Ẹ̵̀R̵͓͝ ̵̹̄Ś̷̩Ê̶̲E̶͓̽?̵̨̄ ̴̾͜K̶̫̑N̶̛̥Ô̴̰W̶̨͘Į̸̄Ṇ̵͝G̷̙̒ ̴̻̽T̸̮̂H̴̘̅A̷͈͆Ț̷͠ ̷̻̾T̸͉͝H̸̗̚Ë̶̮́R̶̼͗E̶͍̕ ̴̗͠W̶̠͝I̴͇̓L̸͎͒L̶͓̕ ̷̗̀B̸͓̎E̶͈͑ ̵̭̍N̶̦͝O̴͈͘ ̷̣̌Ḛ̵̈́S̸̺̿C̵̐͜A̵͓̓P̴͔̔E̶͇͐ ̶̘̓F̴̭͊Ò̴͎Ṙ̴͓ ̸̬͒Ỷ̵͚O̴̖̿U̴̙͑?̵͉͗ ̴͔͝Ṭ̸͑H̶̜͌Ḁ̴͋T̵͍̈́ ̵̻͒P̴̻̓A̸̬͌I̵͔̚N̵̨̽ ̷̰̐Ą̷̓Ǹ̴̨D̷̡̊ ̴͖̂Ś̸̖Ǘ̷͍F̴̹̋F̵̹͛E̶̓ͅR̶̖̈Ỉ̵̪N̴̡̚Ǵ̶̪ ̴̭̋B̶̻͊È̴̟Y̶̢͒O̶̯͐N̸̯͆Ḏ̶͑ ̸̨̄W̴͍͑H̶̳̊A̷͙͠T̷͈̈́ ̸͖́Y̵̫͝Ö̷̻U̵̲͘R̸̺͆ ̷̪̇I̴̙͆M̷͖̀Ä̷̘́G̴̪̓I̸̘̍Ň̵̲A̷̟͆T̶̫͗İ̸̫Ő̴̲N̸̩͐ ̸͚̌C̵̲̅Ô̴͇Ů̷͖L̶͚̄D̷̺̋ ̶͚̕E̶̛̻V̶̮̎È̶̮R̷̯͋ ̴͚͆C̸̗̃O̴͔̓M̵̄͜E̷̘̿ ̶̲͊U̴͙͂P̴̆ͅ ̴̤̉Ŵ̸̪İ̷̜T̸̮͆H̷̪̍ ̶̞̊W̵̥̎Ȋ̶̳L̵͚̏L̵͎̇ ̴̰̌B̵͖̊E̸̤̐ ̸̻̑Ÿ̸̺O̵͓̿U̶̯̔Ṟ̸̌ ̷̱̐F̷͓͌Ä̶̱́T̴̥͠Ë̷̬́?̷̟͂ ̸̬͘Ÿ̸̢ȏ̸̠ū̴̧ ̴̛̹w̵͈͛ì̸̩l̸̤̐ĺ̷͕ ̷̗̽d̷͠ͅȉ̵͜e̴͖̓ ̵̩̒â̸͇t̷̮̿ ̶̳̿m̷͉̋y̶̹͌ ̴̮̄ḧ̷̢́a̶̺̐n̶̼̈ḓ̴͝s̷̹͠ ̸̥̃a̷͊͜ņ̷̂d̷̝͛ ̶̧̚I̶͎̿ ̶̈ͅẉ̸̅i̴̼̍l̴̡̛ḻ̸̿ ̴̦͂l̷͎̔a̶͚̒u̵͍͒g̶̺̈́h̴͙̕ ̴̲̈́a̵̲̔t̸̤͝ ̴̧́ÿ̷͍́ŏ̷̩ủ̸ͅ.̵̫̒.̶̛͓ ̶͇̿I̸͔̓ ̴͉̈w̸̩͒ĭ̷͍l̶̲͋l̶͍̈ ̴͓̊u̸͎͋t̸͈͝t̶̤̀ē̴̳ř̷̜l̴͉̊y̸͉͠ ̷͙̅ḑ̵́ẹ̶͛s̸̟̐t̸̡̒ŗ̸̕o̶̲̅y̸̡̋ ̴͖̐y̷͉̍o̷̖̐u̵̺̅.̴̠̕ ̶̠̇A̸͖͋ņ̴̓ḓ̶̓ ̵̹̈I̷̋͜'̶̨̕l̶̲̅l̵̞̀ ̴̝̎e̸͕͊n̴͕͐j̸̫̇o̸̠͂y̷̖̓ ̷̹̽ĕ̵̞v̷͓̈é̵̲r̴̮͆ÿ̷́ͅ ̸̧̋s̵͓͆ę̶̀c̴͙̓o̶̥̿n̸̫͒d̴̰̊ ̸͇͒ǫ̵̽f̴͇̈́ ̷̦͆i̷̜̔t̴̳̆.̴̱̀"

You smiled at her, a bright blush on your face as you wrapped your arms around yourself and sighed in ecstasy.

"W-What are you?!" Freesia screamed.

You looked back at her and smiled, your red eyes shining in absolute malice and insanity. “Me? Well, Į̵͊'̸̦͆m̶̙͗ ̵̗̈́t̵̠͊h̸̩͝e̸͕̐ ̴̡̌f̷̥̑ä̵̞́c̶̥͒e̶̞͑ ̸̜̐o̴͍̎f̸̗̽ ď̸̦͍̬̥̰͕̞́̽̊͘ȩ̷̮̇͊̿̄͛̿͋͝s̶̱͓̑̿͑̀p̶̧̛̦̗͙̞̞͓̟̟̪͍͍̙͛̀͂͆̆͛̄̀͂̂̆ͅͅa̶̘͎̭̣̫̤͈̰̋̑͒̕͝î̵͉͎͚͇̜̱̫̥͋͂͗́̈́͘ͅr̷̘̱̠̮̜̥̠̝̭̤̎̍̃͘͜."

•••

"Hey, wanna bet on who wins?"

"Huh?"

"Between the Weird Fangs and the Eight Deadly Sins. They’re fighting in town now, aren’t they?"

"That’s not even worth betting on," the soldier replied. The two soldiers were conversing in front of a large prison cell door. "The Eight Deadly Sins only have their Captain and one more, right? The other is on her way here, but Lady Freesia left a few moments ago to take care of her—"

"Hey," a voice called out from inside the cell. The soldiers’ breaths hitched in their throats as they turned to look at the door.

"That’s pretty interesting." Suddenly, a footprint was imbedded into the door and it fell forward with a loud BANG. The prisoner sauntered out, chains dragging behind him.

"N-No way," one of the soldiers cried out.

The prisoner sighed in relief, stretching his arms that had bleeding holes in them. Metal stakes were still embedded in his limbs. His long, white-blue hair and beard might have made him look like he was old, but his muscular body said otherwise.

"It’s nice to get out for a walk every now and then," he said, scratching his head.

"Fox’s Sin of Greed, Ban, of the Eight," a soldier exclaimed.

"You-?! How did you get out?!" The other asked, reaching for his sword.

"Why now?!" The other soldier asked, grabbing the hilt of his sword.

"You can tell just by looking," Ban replied. He pulled a metal stake out of his shin, blood dripping from it. "I kicked the door down." He threw the stake down at the soldiers’ feet. The soldiers gawked in disbelief.

"It’s because you guys were having an interesting chat," he continued. "They were alive?" He asked, glaring at them with his red eyes. "Our cap’n... And Y/N? Is she the one who was on her way here?" He took out another stake from his arm and threw it at the wall between the two soldiers.

"What’s the commotion?" Someone said, walking over to Ban and the two soldiers.

"Lord Jericho!" The soldiers exclaimed.

"Huh?" Ban said, his red eyes scanning over the person. They had their lavender hair up in a high ponytail and wore purple with their armor. They had a sword on their belt. Ban's eyes narrowed.

"The Deadly Sin, Ban," Jericho started. "I don’t know how you got out of your cell, but you’d better go back in."

"Look here, brat," Ban started. "That’s no way to speak to a hero, is it?"

"You dare address an apprentice Holy Knight as a ‘brat,’ huh?" They said, glaring their hazel eyes at Ban. "For a half-dead criminal, you sure like to run your mouth."

They turned to look at the two soldiers, who were currently shaking in fear. "Send a message to Lord Golgius," Jericho said. "A prisoner broke out of his cell and resisted, so Lord Jericho had no choice but to kill him."

"Yes ma’am," the soldiers replied, running away from the two.

Jericho then grabbed the hilt of her sword, glaring at Ban. She ran towards him and slashed at his chest multiple times before he could even react. She sheathed her sword, her back turned toward Ban as he screamed in pain.

Ban’s screams of pain slowly turned into a smug laugh. He turned to Jericho, rubbing his now bare chin. "Wonder if this is too short," he said. Jericho whirled around and gasped. Long locks of Ban’s hair were now on the ground.

"Well, it feels refreshing. Guess it’ll have to do," he thought out loud. He turned to face Jericho. "You’ve got talent, you know...as a hairdresser."

"You dodged my blade despite having wounds all over your body?!" Jericho gasped.

"‘Wounds’? What wounds?" Ban asked, flexing his arms. The holes in his arms were now completely healed, no sign of them ever being there.

"No way," Jericho gasped. "You just had steel stakes hammered through your limbs."

"Remember this well, brat. This is what you call a wound," he said, pointing to the scar that ran up his neck to his jaw. Jericho gawked in disbelief. "Though the wound he gave me... is what you call a special case." He gave her a canine smirk. He then ran over and pinned her against the wall by her jaw.

"Kill me! Kill me now!" She said, squirming in Ban’s grasp.

"A̸͚̽l̶̳̇ȓ̸̩i̸̺͐ǧ̶̠h̵̨́ṱ̷̀!̶̲͐," a voice exclaimed from the shadows.

"Eh?" Ban said, looking in the direction of the voice. His breath hitched in his throat and his eyes widened when he saw who it was. Jericho froze in horror, her blood running cold.

You walked out from the shadows, red eyes glowing demonically and smiling insanely. Your h/l h/c was floated in a halo behind you. Blood dripped from your temple, nose, and mouth. Even more dripped from the cuts on your limbs.

Your clothes were ripped and stained in blood. The sheaths of your daggers had blood dripping from them. Your fingers were covered in it. Despair, rage, and malice was rippling off of you so strongly that you had a black aura around you.

You threw your head back and laughed, the sound of it echoing in the entire floor, causing Jericho's blood to run cold. It was full of pure malice and insanity.

You whipped your head back and looked at Jericho. She froze in horror, your red eyes practically piercing through her soul. You smiled insanely at her. "L̸u̴c̵k̴y̷ ̷y̸o̵u̶!̶Y̶̼̒ó̷̲ụ̵̇ ̵̺̽g̸̹̃e̷͇̓t̶̨͗ ̷̟̉ẗ̸̙ǫ̵̆ ̸͎͝b̸̠̚e̵̬̕ t̴̲̲͗h̴̙̐̄̇̐ê̵̯̯̇̋ ̴̣͓̩̣̼̒̿s̷̟͉̪͛̓̓ȅ̴͎̰̌c̸̦̉̎̏͊͜͠ô̵̩̻̓̈̍ͅn̷͍̥͕͚͘ḋ̶̢̻̳̰̗́̎̚ ̶̤͓̊͐́̆͝l̵̛��̦̜̕͠i̵̢͕͕̾̈́͐ͅͅf̴̹̗̏͝͝ͅę̶͓̬͛̿̋̿̋ ̶̩͓̌̆͊͋͊Ỉ̴̢̜͖͍ ̴̟̠͓͒̏̆é̸̡͎͠n̴̢̟͉̣̅̌̾͒̓d̷̡̳̘̂̕̕ͅ ̷̡̻̦͖̫͂̆̏͌̒t̷͉̫̝͘o̷̜̻̠̰̓d̵̼̼̍̂a̵͙͇͕̓̿̍y̴̽��̰̏̐͘!̴̃̎̉̎͌��̹̥͓"

[teenwolftalk]

Frame this photo and put it in a museum (source: shadow and bone’s twitter)

[mistyeyedbi]

for the kiss prompt thing: 1 with zuri and falk since u mentioned slxmdşxm

Here it is! It's long, pretty angsty and I'm hoping the kiss was shy enough lol.

Random kiss prompts: 1. A shy kiss

--

It was too quiet. Too still. White walls towered over her, the shadows cast across them taunted her, jabbing at the lump in her throat with a stick, poking at the evidence of her loneliness. A gentle breeze billowed past the curtains and rustled the leaves of her many houseplants, a sound that may have soothed the ache in her chest if her heart would allow it, would stop drumming in her ears and slow the rush of blood to her face. The sun was setting behind her windows, bathing the sparsely furnished room in a fiery orange and it was beautiful. It was. But it had no substance, a pretty room that stirred nothing, not the way a set of eyes caught in the sun’s glow and a hearty laugh would. Zuri was alone.

And she didn’t do well alone.

She sat cross legged on a fuzzy carpet, staring into the mirror that leaned against the wall and stretched to the ceiling. The eyes that stared back at her were rimmed with red, cheeks puffy from the silent tears rolling down her face, salty and sweet in her mouth. Her hair was tied into a puff, baby hairs frayed and shriveled back to their natural state, bonnet discarded when sleep evaded her. She couldn’t go back to Unit Bravo. Surely they’d had enough of her, of the tension in their muscles whenever they were out and about, of constantly being alert should someone decide to cash in their bounty. She wouldn’t put them, or anyone else in danger. So she stayed in the apartment.

But she can’t stand this quiet, this anxiousness crawling up her spine whenever she was alone. She needed someone, anyone.

Her lips trembled when they parted. Words bubbled beneath the aching lump, a choked plea squeezing its way past it in fragments. A tiny voice lodged in the back of her mind screamed. Screamed at her for being so pathetic, for refusing to use the knowledge she had to get better. To be better. But a doctor could not treat themselves objectively, despite being aware of the symptoms. So she sat in a pool of self awareness and inaction. 

She shouldn’t need people like this, but she did. This has almost killed her, crushed her soul into specs of dust and left her a hollow shell of herself. She couldn’t let that happen again, screamed the voice. But her emotions overwhelmed her rationale, reducing it to a whisper. 

The reflection rippled before a stream of cool air fanned her face. A taloned hand reached through the mirror and landed on the carpet, followed by another, and head full of white hair, and eventually, Falk was sitting in front of her. 

He squinted slightly in the light, white brows knitting together as concern flickered in his golden eyes like flames. Her hands clutched each other tighter, resisting the urge to reach out and follow the streaks of light highlighting his cheekbones. To pull him into a hug because he was here. He was actually here (but it wasn’t of his own volition, and embarrassment boiled in the pit of her stomach). His hand raised from the carpet and reached for her face, pausing in mid-air before wiping away the steadily falling tears from her cheeks. Zuri shivered and bowed her head, lips trembling as she spoke. 

“I’m sorry,’ she said, her voice hoarse and tight with the effort it took to swallow silent sobs. “I just...I don’t do well alone.”

A crooked finger underneath her chin urged her to look up. His next words were soft rumble, burrowing into her chest and soothing the drumming of her heart into a familiar flutter as she gazed into his eyes. His lips curl into a soft smile. “Fortunately, you no longer are.”

***

Falk started to visit more often, slinking through the mirror at the same time of their previous meeting with a smile on his face. They were frequent, almost everyday, and the subtle accommodations they had made for each other sat on her shoulder like a parrot, constantly pointing out her growing attachment to him. He began to leave his shoes at the door next to hers, occasionally opting to arrive barefoot. She drew the curtains closed to ease the effect of the sun on his eyes and offered him a wink when his eyes landed on the tea she made for him.

He was sitting on the couch, hands clasped around a steaming mug. The sight of him in her apartment was still strange to her. It was almost as if he wasn’t real, a figment of her imagination to chase her anxieties away. His extravagant robes and accessories contrasted the splashes of pinks and greens accenting the mostly white rooms. This was the most time she had spent within these walls, a place that she has never called home. And yet images of him filled each room with a warmth that was never there before, and a need to flee reared its ugly head. Nothing good came from staying, but she could bring herself to keep her distance. She didn’t want to.

“I’m surprised I haven’t ran into one of your companions yet,” said Falk. He blew at the tea (her eyes lingered on his lips and the butterflies in her stomach battled with the buzzing of impending doom), the steam shifting to reveal the curious gaze.

She blinked from her place next to him, clearing her throat before answering. “I’m sorry?”

His lips curled into a teasing smile having noticed where her attention was. This was a dance they had rehearsed many times, the brushing of hands and thighs and flirty exchanges becoming part of their routine. 

“I was under the impression that you spent quite a lot of time with them.”

She laughed, a manufactured giggle escaping her lips as a sharp pang needled its way into her chest (he knew it was fake, the brief wince on his face was a surefire sign that he saw right through her; a ‘blink and you’ll miss it’ frown that she caught only because her eyes refused to look elsewhere). She did. She wanted to. But not with that bounty. Not when she had so easily become a burden. She shifted, her knee brushing against his as she turned to face him . "Oh, no. There has to be some space between us. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, as they say"

“A saying that inspires pain, I’m sure,” he murmured, a faraway look washing over his features. Before Zuri could question it, Falk had set the tea down and placed a hand on her knee, a jolt shooting up her leg as he continued. “It seems you have grown quite close to them.”

“They’re just supposed to be co-workers,” she said. A stern tone seeped into her voice, as if reprimanding herself for allowing them to become anything more. For allowing them to wiggle their way into her personal life and see what was below the tip of the iceberg protruding from the surface. 

“Yet they are not. I have seen the way each of them look at you. They are already fond of you. As am I,” he said, a softness taking over his features. Her heart skipped in her chest at the admission, their bodies drifting closer as they gazed into each other's eyes, surroundings fading away as gold met brown.

"Your presence is valued, detective-"

"Zuri."

"Right," he chuckled, a low rumbling sound like rocks tumbling down a mountain. "Zuri."

A shiver ran down her spine. She had been trying to get him to say his name, but she wasn't as prepared to hear it as she thought she was. It fell from his lips as a low hum, dipped in adoration that she had never heard before and she wanted to hear it again. Have him whisper it into her skin until it settled into her bones and that was all she knew.

"It is?" She whispered, voice dying in her throat.

"More than you could know." The tip of his nose brushed against hers as he continued, "I hope we can grow close as well."

Zuri smiled, butterflies fluttering frantically in her stomach, heart beating against her ribcage, both drowning out the voice telling her that this wouldn't last. She wanted to kiss him dammit, the thought alone made her hands tremble. All caution was thrown to the wind.

"We're pretty close right now," she said with a breathless laugh.

"Then perhaps we should get even closer."

There was her opening. She should just lean in and kiss him. Kiss him. Kiss him dammit!

But she was frozen in place. Shit! She has never been this nervous.

"The feeling is mutual," he chuckled, a warm tint growing on his cheeks. She must have said it out loud, shit!

She forces her body to move, jerking forward to press a chaste kiss to his lips with her eyes shut tight. He smiled and cupped her cheek before coaxing her forward and meeting her in the middle. His lips slid against her, soft and cool and slow. She sighed into the kiss and clasped the back oh his neck, her fingers delving into the base of his hair as an arm slinked around her waist.

She didn't do well alone, but she was starting to like being alone with him.

[ice-cream-nekogirl]

lights will guide you home (Tokoyami Fumikage X Reader) PART 4 (FINALE)

HA!! IT’S DONE NOW!!! I DID IT!! I FINALLY DID THIS ONE DONE!!! ENJOY YOU GUYS!!

PART 4 to : https://ice-cream-kitsunegirl.tumblr.com/post/612457838380515328/lights-will-guide-you-home-tokoyami-fumikage-x

Taglist: @shimy-deko​​, @teerama​​

Summary: You and Tokoyami finally have a talk about everything that’s happened.

Lights will guide you home And ignite your bones And I will try to fix you

He wanted to move, he should have moved but something kept him rooted to the spot even as your own (E/C) eyes went wide and a surprised squeak left you once your eyes met and neither one of you could move. Oh Gods no, this was the last thing Tokoyami wanted to be in the same room alone with you after everything he did to you, after all of the horrors he put you through. No, he needed to get out of here now…

“Tokoyami.” And he nearly froze as soon as you called his name because something in your mind just forced you to call out for him so you could finally have some closure with your friend, but he couldn’t do it.

He turned away so he wouldn’t have to see your face and already began to walk in the opposite direction and go back to his room. “Tokoyami…!” You whisper-yelled since it was night-time. After all you couldn’t just yell out for him because your classmates were more than likely asleep and you didn’t want to wake them, or let Iida know you were still awake.

Tokoyami didn’t listen to you though, he certainly heard you, but he didn’t listen, he just wanted to get away from you. “Hey…! Tokoyami!” Your whisper turned into more of a hiss because him ignoring you was starting to get on your nerves as you got up from the couch to go and follow him. “I’m calling you…!”

He clenched his fists as he tried to swallow down the guilt creeping up in his throat, not just from everything but the fact that he was ignoring you too but it was your own good. He was a horrible friend, he hurt you and it put you through such nightmarish trauma that he couldn’t forgive himself for it at all.

“Tokoyami…! Dammit! You’re not even gonna talk to me?!” You went from annoyed to slightly pissed off as it turned into a chase when the raven began to speed-walk away from you and still held his tongue.

‘(Y/N) wants to talk…! Talk to her!’

Dark Shadow then began to shout at him from the inside, even though Tokoyami still wasn’t talking to him so he ignored him too.

“This is getting old! Stop avoiding me like some kind of monster!” You called just a little bit louder as you caught up and reached out to grab his shoulder.

“I’m the monster you should be avoiding!” Finally, Tokoyami actually spoke to you, although it was more of a hushed yell as he finally stopped in his tracks, fists still clenched as he kept his gaze away from you and didn’t even see you widen your eyes. Although it made sense, you knew that’s why he was avoiding you…

“Just… stop it (L/N)… just leave me alone…” The raven’s cold mutter sounded more like a beg as your eyebrows furrowed a little bit.

“But… why…?”

“Because! You… you and I… it just doesn’t work. You are light, and I am the darkness… it could never work… haven’t you learned that by now? We are the antithesis to one another… so we can’t just act like we can be friendly with one another after everything that’s happened. It’s just proof that it doesn’t work… we should just… leave each other alone… it’s better that way. Light and dark are opposites for a reason… it’s why we need to be away from each other. We can’t be friends anymore...” He almost shakily insisted and explained himself, even though he had missed you terribly ever since the incident and he didn’t mean any of that. Tokoyami just had to try and get you to get away from him so he won’t hurt you again…

It WAS better this way.

Except you didn’t think so. No fucking way, in fact just hearing him say all of that made you mad as hell as you glared at him and didn’t dare tear up. 

“That is a crock of shit and you know it. Antithesis to each other? So fucking what…? Nuh uh, you’re not getting away from me anymore bird boy, you’re coming with me.” Not wanting to beat around the bush you grabbed his arm to drag him to your room and made him gasp in shock.

“S-Stop… please… don’t…” Tokoyami shook his head, even though he was letting himself be partially dragged because you weren’t putting up with it anymore. “I’m sorry all right? But just come with me… all right?” You sighed as you started to feel bad for being so forceful but you really just wanted to talk to him about all of this. You couldn’t stand seeing him so sad…

Tokoyami still wanted to avoid you, but he knew there was no escaping this as he reluctantly complied and found himself in your room but he still couldn’t bring himself to actually face you.

You decided that you should be patient, after all, he was just really upset about it despite what his stoic demeanor implied.

“I know what’s wrong Tokoyami… and I get it… but come on, you can’t just ignore me forever, I thought we were friends… why would you say all of that? Why would you suggest that we not be friends anymore? Unless… you meant what you said? You really don’t want to be friends anymore? If so then... fine... I’ll just go back to missing you like I did in the hospital...” You teared up a little bit, hating that you had to ask that, but you needed to get him to stop hiding from you and to stop letting this consume him.

Your question hit him hard as his eyes widened. Any tears that he’d been holding in for the past week were making their presence known but he forced them back even though his vision started to blur. Cursing his emotions, he couldn’t stop himself from speaking what his aching heart told him to say.

“Of course, I still want to be friends…” Trembling ever so slightly, he kept his fists clenched because he wasn’t going to get emotional. He wasn’t going to let himself be reduced to some kind of blubbering child. He already had no control over his own quirk, he wasn’t going to let himself lose control over his emotions.

“We missed you (L/N)! We missed you so much! I missed you so much!”

Despite his host not speaking to him, Dark Shadow couldn’t just let him torment himself like this and possibly risk your friendship, so he spoke up as you gasped a bit once you saw the shadow again for the first time. Only he was the way he normally was, smaller, harmless and sweet but he looked… just as sad as Tokoyami…

“You are not allowed to speak! Get out of here!”

As soon as his shadow made an appearance, Tokoyami quickly scolded him and demanded him to leave as you swore you heard the poor thing whimper. “Tokoyami… don’t be mean to him.” You couldn’t stand for that, while you understood why he was upset with his shadow, it’s not like the creature could help it.

“B-But… (L/N)…”

Oh who was he kidding? Tokoyami knew his shadow wasn’t to blame, it was his own fault, he lost control and it enabled Dark Shadow to go on a rampage in the first place. He just wanted to blame him because he couldn’t live with himself knowing that you got hurt because of his weakness.

“Because of me… Dark Shadow… hurt you… because I couldn’t control him, and it nearly killed you… and then you…” His voice was almost as low as a whisper, a tremor in his voice as he clutched at his feathery head in frustration with himself, “Had to go through such a hellish ordeal… all because of me… it’s all my fault, all of it…” Shutting his eyes to will back the tears he came down to his knees which prompted you to go down with him so you could comfort him somehow.

“You can’t do that to yourself Tokoyami… you can’t blame yourself for something that turned into an entire shitshow, I mean how were we even supposed to predict what could happen? Everything just got so crazy so you can’t just blame yourself for what happened to me.” Placing your hand on his shoulder, you tried to reassure him but he shook his head, hating himself even more for the tears streaming down his tightly shut eyes. Great, now he couldn’t even control himself, he really is the worst…

“I hurt you! I lost control and I hurt you (Y/N)! Everything you went through is… because of me!” He raised his voice because he had no control, and it just made him wish he was dead because he was disgusted with himself. Your (E/C) eyes welled with tears when he used your name for the first time, and when you heard the agony in his tone. You quietly gasped and tried not to cry, but you couldn’t help it, your tears slowly dripped down your cheeks for him.

“Fumikage…” You used his name for once as you shook your head sadly and pulled him into a hug, which just made him sob as he tried to pull away but you wrapped your arms around him so he couldn’t get out. You weren’t going to let him feel this way anymore…

“You didn’t mean to hurt me…” Softly you whispered as you listened to him cry and pulled him closer to you, “But I still hurt you!” He argued with you through his tears which just made you burst into your own tears.

“I don’t care! I mean what I’m saying Fumi, It’s okay!” You exclaimed tearfully, even though he just cried a little bit harder, “No it’s not!”

“Please… listen to me, it was NOT your fault!”

“Yes it was!”

Tokoyami shook his head as he sobbed and you only held onto him tighter as you softly sobbed, “Oh Fumi…” You raised a hand to run it through his soft feathers so you could console him, caressing through the fluffiness as you gently hushed him. “Shhhhh…”

He didn’t pull away even though he felt like he didn’t deserve any of your comfort or affection as he quietly cried and let you hug him. You felt so warm he couldn’t help but lean into your hug as he felt himself shiver when you ran a hand through his feathers. The affection felt so nice that he craved more of it, even if he was still disappointed in himself because he just couldn’t get over how he hurt you.

“I’m... I’m so sorry...” He felt so pitiful, crying like a child and clinging to you like one, his apology sounding so meek but he’d been wanting to say those words since you first got hurt. 

And you could hear his cries slowly quieting down, save for the occasional little sniffle as you rocked him gently and sighed, “It’s all okay... it’s okay... I’m here Fumikage. I’m right here… yes… I got hurt.” There was no denying that, but you didn’t want him to feel bad about it, “But I’m still here aren’t I? I am… I’m right here hugging you, and I’m here telling you that it’s not your fault, and it’s not Dark Shadow’s fault either. What happened was nothing any of us could control…”  You said to him calmly and sincerely as the raven heard you out and no longer argued with you because he was… so comfortable in your arms.

“It was an accident… all of it… and I forgive you Fumikage. I forgive you. And I forgive Dark Shadow… it was bleak that night, so dark and dim that I didn’t think I’d find my way back to you guys… but I did. I remembered, I remembered you guys, and I let that new light bring me back home so I can see you again…” With a soft smile you thought fondly of all your friends and of Tokoyami. Yes you were frightened and distraught, but what made you force yourself to run back here was the memory of the people you loved. The memory of Tokoyami, you just wanted to see him again so badly, and now here you were, finally home with him.

Tokoyami let out an almost silent gasp as soon as you said that you forgave him, how and why he’ll never know, but it gave him hope for a moment as he slowly, slowly picked himself up to look over at you finally. And he perked up slightly when he felt your hand graze over his feathery cheeks to wipe away his tears, “And don’t be mad at your quirk… that’s just his nature. It’s not something you can completely control yet, and that’s not your fault or his fault. I mean we’re not experts… I don’t blame you for that, and you shouldn’t blame Dark Shadow for that either… he’s a part of you. You can’t hate a part of yourself.”

You spoke softly as he slowly blinked, but heeded your words as he sadly glanced at Dark Shadow peeking out from his chest. He did feel terrible for being so cold to his quirk, but he was so upset that he took it out on him. It was wrong though, he knew it was…

“Dark Shadow… I’m sorry… I… never should have treated you the way I did… you didn’t do anything wrong, everything that happened… I took it out on you but… I really shouldn’t have so… I am truly sorry…” After a while of uncomfortable silence, he finally apologized to his shadow with a shaking voice, even brought his hand out to give him a little apologetic pat on the head as he could practically hear him purring.

“I forgive you Fumikage… it’s not your fault… and, (Y/N) I’m sorry… I’m so sorry for what I did…”

Even though Tokoyami forgave him, he still didn’t really forgive himself for hurting you and you could see the shadow’s tears as he cried, no doubt because he was just as sad and torn up inside as his master was.

“Oh Dark Shadow…” You warmly smiled at the shadow and lovingly patted him on the head and you could practically see him blushing, “It’s okay… it’s all okay now I promise…you didn’t do anything wrong, neither of you did.” A tear streamed down your cheek as you didn’t stop smiling at the sweet creature and Dark Shadow couldn’t help but curl up around your shoulder for more head pats akin to a needy puppy as you giggled happily.

“Okay Dark Shadow that’s enough…” But this made Tokoyami feel a little bit embarrassed and just slightly, very slightly jealous that his shadow was getting all of this attention.

“Sweet shadow… you really are a soft, adorable creature…” You didn’t seem to pick up on this though, and continued to be affectionate to the shadow and you even gave him a kiss on the top of his head and you could hear him giggling and Tokoyami cringed a bit.

“Give (Y/N) her space now Dark Shadow…” Oh that was it, he called back his giggly and blushing shadow because now he was just pushing it.

“Awwww meanie…” Dark Shadow pouted and whined a little bit but didn’t disobey Tokoyami as he retreated back into him while you were just giggling.

As adorable as that was and as much as you wanted to ask Tokoyami if you could keep petting Dark Shadow, you knew that would probably just annoy him so you didn’t, “Um…” As soon as you spoke though Tokoyami paid his full attention to you which just made you nervous.

“R-Right I… I also wanted to say this Fumikage… i-it’s about what you said… about us being opposites and whatnot…” Mumbling shyly you didn’t see Tokoyami look mildly ashamed of what he had said. He didn’t even truly mean that, he just thought that saying those words would turn you away from him so he couldn’t hurt you again.

In hindsight that was a really stupid move to do, not to mention, pardon his French, a real dick move to do too.  

“Look… it’s true… we are light and dark, but the truth is… I really don’t care that your powers are related to the dark and that makes us total opposites… I still like you Fumi, I still really like you... it’s… why I wanted to come back to you so badly…”

Your damp cheeks started to burn once you realized how blunt that might have sounded, but you might as well confess. After almost dying, it made you realize that you only live once and that you should do things you wanted to do before something happens and you can no longer do those things.

And Tokoyami gasped more audibly this time, did he hear you right? Did you really say that you liked him? But then he just went silent once it all started to sink in. Someone liked him? More importantly, the person he liked, liked him back?

However, he almost didn’t realize how incredibly awkward the atmosphere became once he stopped speaking and didn’t make any noise whatsoever as you blushed even darker, “Um… I’m sorry I just… thought you ought to know I… really do like you though Fumikage… I wanted to tell you for a while but… for some reason I wasn’t able to…” Averting your eyes a little bit, your voice turned much more bashful and you couldn’t see Tokoyami’s feathers starting to fluff up as his face burned so hot he thought he was going to overheat.

“Fumikage likes you too (Y/N)!”

He wasn’t speaking so Dark Shadow chimed in just to make you feel less awkward as you perked up when you saw the shadow again, “D-Dark Shadow! D-Don’t say that!” Tokoyami blushed even harder as he scolded his shadow once again, but this was much less out of anger and more out of embarrassment.

“C’mon! Stop hiding it already! Just tell her you like her! I like her too! She deserves to know!”

The shadow put up a surprisingly good argument as you couldn’t help but giggle even though your face was going totally aflame the more Dark Shadow said that your crush liked you back.

“A-All right! Just… please stop…” Tokoyami was so embarrassed, he DID want to tell you but his shadow went and ruined it…

“Is that true…?” You asked with a shy tone and Tokoyami felt just as shy, if not shyer and incredibly nervous as he found himself unable to look at you again. “…yes…” After a moment of silence, he finally admitted it.

“I like you too (Y/N)… I’m… I’m in love with you…” Using your first name for the first time, he put his heart out so you could hear it. Dark Shadow was right, you did deserve to know and especially after everything you had been through. No more hiding from you.

“I’ve been content in the darkness for the longest time, even as a child I was accustomed to the dark, I flourished in it and thought that it was simply what I was meant to be. A man, a hero of darkness, that’s all I believed. Meeting you was like seeing the sun for the first time, blinding at first but then I could see the beauty in it. I could see the beauty in other things I didn’t see before. You were kind, you were comforting, even when I was still just a shadowy figure in your bright life, you looked at me, not once did you turn away or wince in fear. Every moment we spent together, I would look into your eyes and each time I could see a glimpse of paradise. You are the light that brightens up my gloomy life of darkness, the light that gave me hope that even a creature like me could deserve that kind of light…”

Tokoyami bore his soul out to you, everything he felt about you as he looked at you tenderly with sincere eyes and your own (E/C) eyes were wide and glistening as your heartbeat raced so fast you could hear it each time he spoke a word. He sounded like such a poet, like one of those romantics you read about and you felt even more in love with him as your smile grew more tearful.

Yet the first thing that left your throat was an excited giggle, which… immediately made Tokoyami flinch and blush horribly in embarrassment, “Wow… did you rehearse all of that Shakespeare?” You couldn’t help but tease him JUST a little bit and you snickered even more when Tokoyami was at a complete loss for words and all he could do was stammer…

“I-I… I…”

Oh Fates murder him now, that was corny even for HIS standards…

However, his eyes went wide and he flinched once again as soon as he felt you suddenly just hug him so tightly as he let out a squeak that you swore sounded like a chirp. “I’m sorry… you have no idea how touched I am… that’s the sweetest, most beautiful thing anyone has EVER said to me…” You sounded much more serious, much more touched as you hugged him even tighter.

“And I return your feelings Fumi… despite everything… I still think there’s beauty in the darkness… and you are that beauty. You are what makes the dark so elegant and beautiful to me.” You confessed your own feelings for him with a soft, warm tone as Tokoyami’s eyes widened and he couldn’t even feel the fresh tears slowly roll down his slightly matted, feathered cheeks.

Heartfelt, he hugged you back just as tightly and resisted the urge to sob out of joy as he could feel the happiness overwhelm and fill his once hollow soul. And you tightened your arms around him as he silently cried, and you felt his tears dripping slightly into your shirt, his beak resting upon your shoulder, his arms around you and pulling you close while you buried your head into the crook of his neck.

Never have you felt safer and warmer in your life before, and never had Tokoyami felt so secure and loved in his life before. You truly were the light in his life.

Unfortunately, not all good things can last…

“I love you too (Y/N)!!”

Dark Shadow gladly joined in the hug, putting his large claws around you and Tokoyami and nuzzling your cheek as you perked up and laughed, “Awww how can I forget about you Dark Shadow…? I love you too…” You grinned and didn’t hesitate to give him yet another kiss on his beak.

Much to Tokoyami’s immense annoyance as he tried not to grumble or look as irritated as he felt. He knew it was fair though, Dark Shadow was capable of feeling love too and he very much loved you too so it wasn’t really a ruined moment. He deserved to be a part of this just as much.

However, you started to blush quite heavily when you realized that you said the ‘L’ word, love… and you were so glad Tokoyami didn’t really notice, but you were also so glad that he now knew how you felt about him and how much you adored him. Although you did notice that he started to look a little bit awkward once the two of you slowly and reluctantly pulled away without much to say…

“Are you… gonna stay the night?” You found yourself asking and outright saying the lyrics from that song ‘Stay The Night’ by Zedd, and Tokoyami nearly flinched at the thought, him? Stay the night…?

‘Ooooooh~! Stay the night?! Sure! I wanna stay the night it’s late anyway!’

Dark Shadow practically answered for him even though he quickly hushed him as his entire face burned so hot he could feel all the feathers on his face standing when he heard you giggling…

“Hee-hee… oh really? Perfect… because you know… I never got to watch The Cabin in The Woods with you…” You were already in your room, it was late, you had your TV in here and there wasn’t much to do since you couldn’t really sleep although Tokoyami did look quite flustered at the thought of spending time with you in this forbidden garden of yours…

Oh he just realized that he was not supposed to be in here, and yet you weren’t kicking him out, hell you were suggesting that he stay? He wondered as he glanced at you shyly, nervously as you shyly giggled. “I remember saying that we should discuss which of your classmates would be certain archetypes in horror movies but… I don’t know if that’s in poor taste anymore given what happened but… let’s watch it yeah? Dark Shadow has a point… it’s late and… well I… kinda don’t wanna be alone to be honest…” God you felt like an idiot as you blushed even harder especially when Tokoyami was just looking at you, just as awkward and shy as you were but he didn’t dare turn that down.

“Y-Yes actually… I would like that very much. I was… looking forward to that the first time, so… I would be more than happy to stay the night…” His face was still burning but he gladly accepted your offer because part of him (not just Dark Shadow) wanted to stay the night with you. Besides, after a week of avoiding you he’d say you more than deserved this.

You couldn’t help but grin and beam when he said ‘yes’ and already you perked up and got up to find the DVD somehow with a chipper ‘All right~!’ as you looked over the DVD’s you had because you still liked to use DVD’s when online streaming failed you. Besides DVD’s were STILL cool no matter what anyone said.

“Make yourself comfy~.” You sang-songed too as you sat on your bed and offered an extremely flustered Tokoyami to sit down next to you, and he felt as stiff as a corpse as he nervously made his way over to sit next to you. It felt so nerve-wracking and yet exciting to be sitting next to you even as he watched this movie that never got old.

That kind of took away some of the nerves a little bit as you smiled and giggled at one of the jokes made by Marty. Although, you decided to surprise Tokoyami a little bit once he had his eyes on the screen. Puckering up your lips you gave him a little kiss on the side of his beak which made him nearly jump as his entire face felt like it caught fire…

You threw your hand to your mouth to stop yourself from snickering and laughing out loud when he froze up with wide eyes akin to a deer in headlights. “Uh oh… earth to Fumikage…? Ooh look it’s my favorite part with Mordecai and the speaker phone…” Trying to get his attention you tapped him on the shoulder a bit to snap him out of his kiss-induced stupor.

He shook a little bit once he regained his composure although he wasn’t amused by how you were grinning at him, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t really like that. No… he loved it.

“Forgive me.” And Tokoyami apologized for freezing up like that which just made you shake your head, “Nothing to forgive.” You said sweetly as you reassured him by placing your hand gently above his as he perked up ever so slightly at the softness of your fingers on his knuckles.

His flustered look softening as the two of you shared a tender gaze before turning your eyes back to the movie, hands never leaving each other as the TV screen kept the dark room lit just for you and him.

Yes, you were light, he was dark, but that’s why they say to ‘light up the darkness’ and there will be clarity to appreciate the beauty of the dark.

You felt less afraid of the dark now because of Tokoyami, and Tokoyami didn’t have much to fear about himself anymore either because you were his light.

Lights will guide you home And ignite your bones And I will try to fix you...

[joyfulsongbird]

Bruises And All- Chapter 4

Persephone didn’t expect a girl to be in the house with her brother and his godson, but she’ll be damned if she lets her get away without opening up a tiny bit.

***

PERSEPHONE allows herself a couple of hours before getting worried about the storm. she’d said to herself, over and over, it’ll pass over soon enough. the ocean can only be upset for so long. but as the hours creep by and she realizes that her mark for checking up on her brother and nephew is growing steadily closer, her worry grows and grows and grows until it is taking over her body. forcing her feet into her flower patterned rain boots, putting on layers on layers to make sure her bottom layer doesn’t get soaked and she doesn’t get sick. as she does all of this, her nagging husband tries to convince her to stay back.

“Hermes is a smart man, he’ll take care of himself and that boy of his. it’s dangerous out there.” he follows on her heels as she searches around their house for a hat to use.

“you forget, Hades,” she remarks while searching a closet. “that I care about people more than I care about myself. I’m going to check up on my family. you can come if you wish.”

she knows he’s going to tag along. he loves her too much to let her trudge through a hurricane by herself.

hearing his large sigh as, he too, gets his rain things together and stuffs his boots with another pair of socks Persephone is quite sure she’s going to hear about this tomorrow when they are both bedridden and sick from the wet and the cold. she’s ready to head out long before he’s ready. his moves sluggish as Persephone leans against the door.

“Hades, this is serious. they live close to the water, we don’t know how flooded it is!”

“I know, I know.”

when finally, finally they both have their things together and can get out the door, she rushes out the door with a fervor of someone on a mission. she has a goal and she’s going to get there, storm be damned, ocean be damned, she’s going to check on her nephew and her brother even if mother nature decides to turn its forces against her. she’s going to get there even if it takes hours to maneuver through the storm.

Hades’ holds her hand tightly as they fight against the scarily strong winds, flips her hair around, gets into every crevice of her skin, into every piece of fabric on her body. she’s shivering already and they’ve only been outside for barely two minutes.

“Seph!” Hades calls from behind her. “turn back! wait until it passes!”

“not today!” she calls back, tugging on his hand harder and pulling him forward through the wind and rain. the water, combined with the speed of the wind, feels like little knives digging against her cheek but just like almost all of her decisions, she is motivated by love and passion. she is going to get there, even if it takes her days to do it, she’s going to get there dammit. she’ll push through mud, trudge through the forest for hours, swim across an ocean, to get to her family.

“there! right there!” Hades yells. “I can see a light!”

they veer a tight left turn and there it is, the bar with golden light streaming from its windows, making slots of light where she can see the torrential rain pouring buckets over the ground. she can barely feel it anymore, can barely feel her fingers despite her gloves, can feel the tip of her nose going numb.

Hades places a hand on her back, steering her closer to the door. she pushes away from him, whipping her soaking hair around her shoulder so that it nearly hits him. nearly. and raises her fist to knock on the door, before she can, however, the door whips open and there’s the boy’s silhouette casting a shadow through golden hazy bar light.

“Lady Persephone!” his voice, the normal quality of it slightly changed for some reason but wholly the same pitch and the same tone, welcoming them both inside the open arms. “come inside, please, you’re soaked to the skin.”

Persephone, wiping water from her eyes, steps inside the warmth of the bar. followed closely by Hades. she begins peeling off her layers of soaked coats, shaking her hair of the little droplets of water that have yet to fall off or soak in.

“how did you come all this way? why did you come all this way?” Orpheus asks as he takes her first layer from her arms.

“I was worried about the two of-”

she stops. it seems she’s mistaken for saying that there are two of them in this house. because there, leaning against a table not too far away from where Orpheus signature guitar leans, is a girl. a girl with bruises that Persephone can already make out from this distance. over the years, she’s learned to pick out people with hurt. working at a children’s mental hospital, she’s grown horrifyingly acute at picking these children apart from one look. she tries to stop herself but one look at this girl with bruises and bumps and bones sticking out every which way and ribs most definitely showing under the baggy shirt that does not belong to her, Persephone knows that there is so much hurt buried in her.

she tries to tell herself that she won’t pull her aside to talk about it, but as Orpheus guides Persephone and her husband farther inside, closer to the girl, she knows she will. she will not be able to let this go, knowing that someone has hurt her this deeply. that if Persephone doesn’t say something soon, she’ll never get the chance because oh, this girl is a runner. when this storm blows over? she’ll be gone like a shot. she sees herself in her, sees the fear, sees the want to get out and go. and knowing herself, this girl will not be around for much longer.

Hermes comes a-stomping down the stairs, interrupting the conversation that had begun to slow. conveniently attracting Persephone’s away from the girl and onto her brother.

“Hermes! thank the gods!” she throws an arm around him after meeting him halfway from the stairs. “we came to check up on you guys-”

“she was very worried.” Hades drawls.

“shush.” Persephone scolds. “and the power went out at our place anyways.”

“well, Orpheus just fixed up the furnace downstairs so our place should be pretty toasty for at least a couple of hours. can I fix up anything for you all? we have some cider that I can warm up.” Hermes says, keeping the conversation fluid and warm feeling.

“that sounds wonderful, thank you.” Persephone replies. “Hades?”

“I’m good but thank you.” just like Hades, has he ever accepted a drink in a house besides his own? that’s a conversation for later, but she files it back to where she can access it later and ask him.

“Orpheus?”

“I’d love some, thanks.”

“and what about you, dear?”

the only person left in the room doesn’t lift her head, doesn’t acknowledge her being referenced. Persephone’s heart aches, it aches so badly that she wants to reach out and grab this girls flushed face with her two hands. wants to brush her hair and kiss her cheeks. she’s felt maternal instincts before, working with children can do that to you, but never before has she wanted so desperately to comfort someone who doesn’t even seem to be in terrible distress.

she reminds Persephone too much of a younger version of herself.

she wants to do to her what Persephone wishes someone would’ve done for her at that age.

and before Persephone can reach out, say something like “I think he’s talking to you hon” Orpheus is there. bumping his fist against her arm very gently. it’s a small but meaningful touch, and Persephone notices one very important fact right away: she does not pull away, nor does flinch at his touch when she realizes that it is him who has touched her. details, details. so much to unpack.

“yes?” she looks up, short, not terse, but practically on edge.

“cider?” Hermes holds up an empty mug.

“oh, no thank you, I’m alright.” she shakes her head, black frizzy waves falling in front of her face for a moment.

Hermes hesitates before starting to fill up a couple of cups of cider behind the bar. “sit down, I’ll be there momentarily.”

they drag chairs to fill all of them around one small round table, leaving one open for Hermes to sit in. the silence falls over them in waves, the occasional deep breath in or out breaks the spell, but one person has to spark something to talk about. unfortunately, Hades is the one to do that.

“I haven’t seen you around before,” he says, addressing the girl. “what’s someone like you doing in these parts?”

she doesn’t have trouble identifying that she’s being spoken to this time. she made that mistake once, she will be careful with her words now. “oh, I was just traveling and got caught in the storm. Mister Hermes is a kind man. agreed to let me stay here until it blows over.”

she’s a good liar. that’s for certain.

“traveling where? not much farther before you hit the ocean, just past the town actually.” Hades interrogation mode is on, he leans forward in his seat, leaning his elbows against the table.

“nowhere certain. I wasn’t planning on going to school so I thought, why not? before I settle down, get a job and such, might as well get out and about. this is a pretty landscape, I can’t wait to see it more when the storm is gone.” her voice is almost robotic, but not so obviously so that if someone wasn’t good at detecting it, they wouldn’t notice. she’s had experience lying, probably told this same lie dozens of times.

“so you’re planning on staying then?” Hades asks, quirking one eyebrow.

“Oh, I-I- um...” her lie comes to a strict halt at the idea of making future plans, so does her fake confidence.

“you don’t have to answer that, it’s okay.” Orpheus speaks up for the first time in this conversation. he’s not usually this defensive, doesn’t usually stand up to Hades like this. Persephone is proud of him. “the storm could end tonight or in a week or longer, we- we really don’t know.”

Orpheus gives the girl a shy smile (which she doesn’t return) and Persephone can tell there’s something there, something blooming and it hurts her to watch. the girl is going to run before Orpheus can even get a word out about his feelings. she’ll run from something like that even if there’s still a storm brewing outside, the storm brewing inside is worse.

Hermes arrives with cups of cider in his hands, he passes them around the table. one for Persephone, one for Orpheus, one for himself that he leaves at his open seat, and one that he slides across the table to the girl.

she glances from it to him. “I don’t need-”

“warm yourself, dear.” that’s all he says before looking away and not giving her another look or word on that matter.

But Persephone just sits in wait, waiting for the girl to get up and leave and give her an opening to talk to her.

she doesn’t have to wait long. she practically knows this girls mind, their tickers work so similar.

“I’m going to,” she stands up, wiping her hands on the fabric on the pants she’s wearng. “I’m going to use the bathroom.”

Persephone waits exactly five seconds before getting up and following without an explanation for the rest of them.

she expects her to be sitting in an enclosed room or behind a bookshelf but no, she sits just out of the way of the stairs, just out of view of those downstairs. probably close enough to hear them. her hands rub across her face, as if she’s trying to wake herself up.

Persephone holds a hand. “c’mere, I wanna talk to you.”

the girl lifts her head to meet Persephone’s eyeline, face shrouded in darkness, eyes covered in a faint layer of apprehension.

“what?”

“we’ll put a cold compress on those bruises of yours, and for the love of the gods, stop rubbing at yours eyes and get some sleep.” the girl blinks at her stark words, Persephone pulls no punches and doesn’t plan on stopping for this girl. if anything, she’s being more forward with her than she would be with someone else completely normal.

to Persephone’s surprise, the girl reaches up and takes her hand, pulling herself up very quickly and letting go of her hand just as fast.

Persephone can hear her footsteps following her, she doesn’t doubt for a second that when she turns around when they get to the bathroom that she’ll be there. and she’s right, the girl awkwardly leans against the doorway as Persephone’s turns on the faucet and throws a hand towel in with the flow of water.

“close the door please.” Persephone requests, without thinking.

“can we leave the door open?” she asks, hands twitching at her sides. “please?”

“oh, oh of course.” Persephone remembers how a long time ago, she didn’t like enclosed spaces either. and despised them when she was in a small space with another person. in this small bathroom, she would’ve looked for whatever weapons were available, would’ve looked for any way out. it’s another reminder at how similar these two women are, or rather, a woman and a girl. two sides of the same coin, essentially, sewed from the same cloth. different, but the same. Persephone desperately wants to know her story but holds back her questions and concerns. she’ll never admit anything if she’s being pestered.

“here, press this to your neck.” she hands her the wrung out hand towel. “it’ll help the bruises to go away quicker and help with whatever pain your feeling.”

“thank you.” the girl says softly, movements slow and unsure as if at any moment Persephone might turn around and snap the cloth at her instead of hand it over.

“anything else bothering you?”

“no, I’m fine.” she insists, carefully pressing the compress over one side of her neck. “how- how do you know all this?”

“if I’m a good guesser, which I am,” Persephone leans back against the sink, her fingers curling around the smooth tile. “I’d say I was like you, dear.”

the girl’s lips part slightly with surprise, just barely letting out the small audible breath of what seems like relief. an understanding passes between them. you’re like me, I’m like you, we understand one another.

and Persephone throws out her first question, hoping it’s a soft ball that she can actually get an answer out of. “how old are these bruises?”

she brushes hair out of her face, pushing her bangs back a little. all to avoid her eyeline again. “about a day.”

Persephone nods. “did you go right after or did you wait until night?”

“why are you-”

“please, just answer the question.”

she licks her lips. “I-I waited. until it was dark.”

“good.” she nods slowly. she isn’t sure if she should risk a more difficult question, a question that might actually reveal something about her.

“can you tell me who did this to you? your brother, father, sister, mother, friend, boyfriend? anybody.”

she can practically feel the girl shrink back into herself, what little of herself that she had put on display is now closed into a little tiny box and the key is thrown away. the words are written clearly on her face: no, that’s too close.

“it doesn’t matter who.” she switches the cold compress to the other side of her neck.

“it definitely matters, no matter what you tell yourself or what other people tell-”

“stop talking like that.” she interrupts. “just- stop. I don’t want to be picked apart, okay?”

“okay, I’m sorry.” Persephone says softly, turning away. “my husband is a jackass, don’t listen to a word that he says.”

“he- he’s really... eccentric, isn’t he?” she gives a half smile. a smile to convince that everything is real, and she’s okay. “why do you stay with him if he’s a jackass?”

“because I love him. and he isn’t a bad person; he just doesn’t know what words come out of his mouth sometimes.” Persephone holds out her hand, palm up. “can I see that towel?”

she tentatively hands it over, Persephone wets it again, this time with warm water. “you have dirt all over your face... may I?”

“no.” she grabs the cloth from her and goes to the mirror, starting to wipe at the dirt the almost stains her cheeks and face. as if its been there so long that it can’t come off, that she has to keep tearing through layers and layers of skin to try to clean herself. “are you a mom? is that why you keep trying to mother me?”

“I can’t have children.”

her hand stills mid-wipe, “oh.”

“I’m just trying to help, hon.” Persephone says quietly, observing the girl’s quivering head, holding so still that her whole little body seems to be trembling under the effort.

there’s a long pause, far too long than for either women’s liking but finally, the girl speaks up, her voice softer than before. far less intruding and loud than before.

“My mother always said she wished she couldn’t have children,” she says. “she’d say ‘Eurydice, as soon as you were born, I knew I hated children’. she had four more after, for some reason.”

“my mother was pretty similar, if I have any say.” Persephone says.

the girl- eurydice- chuckles under breath, “mothers.”

“they don’t define us, we don’t have to be like them.” Persephone comes to stand closer to the sink, not touching her but wanting to lay a gentle hand on her shoulder and tell her that she isn’t who she has always been attached to, who she has always been compared to. she understands the feeling, of wanting to be different, of wanting to be somebody unexpected, somebody memorable.

for a moment, seriousness seeps out from where it lies in her eyes and settles on her face. the mask falls away for the tiniest, briefest second and they meet eyes.

“thank you.” and it feels genuine. these few moments stuck in a bathroom, away from the chaos of downstairs and the memories in their head are full of genuine feeling for almost the first time.

***

thank you for making it to the end!! i Love You!! send me an ask with your favorite part!

[huntsman-ash]

RWBY V8 Livethought Stream: Episode 1

And as I have done for the last couple of seasons, here is my live thoughts as I watch the episode. Spoilers below, of course, for RWBY Volume 8, Episode 1: Divide.

First shot we get is of Cinder cleaning a floor. Dammit, and I was hoping she was secretly a whore in Mistral. Ehh.

Convinent that the Grimm Whale has LANDING PADS on its side. Quite a few of them actually. Do Grimm launch from them like VTOL attack craft?

Neo and Cinder are flying a new as of yet un-named vehicle. Im going to call this one the Remora cause it kinda looks like one.

Im getting massive Leviathan vibes from this whale. Wont lie. Mixed with a bit of Hive influence from Destiny.

Neos look of confusion and fear is at the same time both amusing and adorable. Also, she has no shirt over her bellybutton, which I find slightly amusing.

Salems throne has some kind of link to somethign else in the Whale, there’s no other reason for it to have that glowing power bank on the back. Also it seems to be made of bone, as is most of the rest of the interior. So...presumably, Salem shaped this entire thing like a bonesinger.

Salem still got the titties out uniform AND I STILL HATE THAT HER VOICE IS JEN TAYLOR!

Salems got Grimm bone arm bracers. Interesting..

LAMP

Neo is literally saving this entire episode for me with her silent adorable sass.

And Tyrian with the ABSOLUTE FIRE. Also hey hes back, guess he got up here somehow.

Note on the throne Room; all the doors we see are connected to Salem’s throne via those glowing lines, which seem to curve and go elsewhere. I think this is the Whale’s nerve center. And it looks like its on the back if the huge bone in the reare near the teeth is its spine.

And Neos like “hey wait I didnt sign up for this”

Correction; its not a door, its a MOUTH. Wall mouth.

ANNNNDD new designs for everyone on the evil team. HAVEL BE BEAR BRO. TOTAL GAY ENERGY. It looks like he tore the sleeves of a nice dress shirt and just BELTED it in place. And Merc looks like a fucking GOPNICK, HA! What the fuck does he have hanging from his right leg though. 

Yeah, knew it. She touches the throne and the whale responds. Its her command seat, literally.

And Salem putting that bitch IN HER PLACE. You do it queen.

And now to the bottom of the hole under Atlas. THIS. THIS IS WHAT I ALWAYS IMAGINED MANTLE TO LOOK LIKE. VINDIFUCINGCATION AFTER FUCKING 6 YEARS!

Old dudes and faunus. Interesting. OLD DUDE FAUNUS WITH LIKE GIANT FUCKING MOLE CLAWS, DAMN.

Fuckin scramble the moment RWBY shows up. Man that was fast, I was hoping Oscar would be lost for a bit longer.

I still cannot believe how THIN the wall defending Atlas is. ITS LIKE TWO FEET THICK AT THE MOST! A METAL BARRIER WITH CONCRETE SUPPORTS! WHAT THE FUCK ATLAS

And Mantle proper slowly decends into what I have always seen it as. Good.

And May takes out a drone with her weapon like a chad. Nice. I guess Atlas doesnt keep track of their drones...wouldnt shock me

Ahhh resistance headquarters inside an old bar. The Huntress’s moving personnel...nice.

Oscars like “no dont touch me” and then “oh wait, titties, oh yeah...” Poor confused farmboi

OH MY GOD. VODKA IS CANON IN RWBY! HOLY SHIT YES!

Huh. Who’s the eyepatch chick with the cute faunus on the wall there. Interesting.

May Marigold; no nonsense. Good

“Largets Grimm Horde ever seen”. Okay, sure. Doesnt seem that big to me honestly.

Interesting. Ammunition cases on Remnant are nearly identical to ours, down to the large rectangular lockingn flap on one end.

Hmm. Casualties, judging by the watch and dropped material. No surprise. The weak get eaten in this world.

Also hey, faunus Futaba

Oh wonderful, no free-launch for the stadium. BECAUSE WHY THE FUCK NOT RIGHT?

Also, Stilltskin on the wall there. Some kind of whiskey

Main Atlesian Military Compound. Prepping myself for a MASSIVE dissapointment...

“Operations room”. Well, I guess it fits, but I would ASSUME its more accurately called a command and control center, or possibly command information center, depending. We’ll see soon enough.

Salems out in open war? Good. Time to break out the fuckin heavies people.

NGL this whole scene feels really oddly hamfisted. Its...strange. Doesnt feel like its flowing naturally.

Noras got a point but like, bruh, its Remnant. No ones got fucking militiares. You sat on your fucking hands for 80 Y EARS AND THIS IS HOW IT SHAKES OUT FOR YOU

And there’s a difference between division emotionally and splitting up to handle two objectives. Ruby, please stop being a civilian for 20 seconds and THINK

Cute, Penny’s gone full maiden depressed. First thoughts; self sacrifice.  Good idea. But make it more brutal, Penny. Make it a frontal assault that will make that bitch BEG for the end she cannot have. You have lasers, you have maiden powers, hit that whore with an alpha strike that will make Nicolas Kerensky wince!

Goooood. Pennys going for Atlas. CUT THEM TO RIBBONS POLENDIA!

Two teams, two days. Two seperate stories and things get messy.

IRONWOOD LITERALLY CALLS PENNY ON THE PHONE ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS.

Remnant is doomed. Lol, jumped a head a little bit buddy? Get out for a little bit mate. See some of the other kingdoms, check how they’re doing.

Atlas has defenses? Sure they do. Something tells me we’re not seeing that...

And guilttrip. Wooooooo not impressed.

Awww Marrow sadboi.

Actually the aces all look sand OH BECAUSE ITS CLOVER. WHY IS HE THERE? ARE THEY-OH DONT YOU FUCKING DARE RT. DONT YOU FUCKING DARE BRING HIM BACK.  FUCK YOU IF YOU DO. HE SERVED HIS FUCKING PURPOSE AND NOW HES DEAD, LEAVE HIM FUCKING BE!

ALSO HES FUCKING DUMB AND USELESS AND WE NEED HARE TO LEAD THE ACES NOW OKAY? We need someone willing to draw blood, not a showboat

Hare’s commentary is mine. Angry snort indeed.

Winters there too, looks like shes still beat to shit. Annnd there’s Ironwoods new arm.

Adorable specialist is adorable. Huh. Wonder if I can use her for something.

Medical brace for Winter...odd. Did she suffer burns or something? A stimm sleeve like in Gears?

Blah blah giant Grimm force blah blah okay yeah whatever

Atlas has hardlight shields. Okay, good. But we know how useful those are against proper attacks...You got anything else? Missiles? AA batteries? SOMETHING?

Seriously its a giant flying army, fill the fucking sky you morons!

Oh look its the two useless members of Atlas’s council.

YEAH! FUCK YEAH! THATS WHAT I WANNA SEE! GET HIS ASS IRONWOOD! FUCK YEAH! NOW SHOOT THE OTHER BITCH TOO! MAKE IT CLEAR THEYVE SERVED THEIR PURPOSE!

That POSTURE. THE CASUALNESS! THE PROPER FIRING STANCE! UGH ITS SO GOOD!

Wish we coulda seen the dude get smashed though. Damn ratings. I wanna know what a bullet does to a person in this universe.

Hare’s face here was the perfect ending to the situation. Confusion, wonder...acceptance. Exactly.

Same with Winter actually.

Huh. Wonder who Salems talking to.

And now for the new opening...

Everythings going to shit, shocker. Nic ecallbacks to other stuff. Oh great does Salem have WINGS now?

This last part reminds me of the trailer for Halo Wars 2

Wonder if the shadow under Crescent Rose at the end means anything.

Annnndddd thats it for this episode! See you all next week!

[darkmindsthinktwistedthoughts]

Echo pt6

Warning: This is a little dark. There is blood, death, Strong Language and yeah … please read with caution. **Still not sure what direction this is taking so I should add a warning for Author with no plot **

Masterlist

—

Echo part 6

A heavily adorned cold hand touched her arm and as if by magic it was like someone had reconnected her mind to her body allowing her to once more move. Kit looked at the hand noting the different sized ornate rings and followed the length of the arm to its owner.

Long flowing blonde hair perfectly styled and accented with crystal droplets that just seemed to add a mysterious lustre to it. Blue eyes that looked as clear as ocean water were observing her as much as she was them. There was something off though. Kit couldn’t place it exactly which irritated her but it really did feel like she wasn’t looking at reality as it should be. Something hurt much more in the back of her mind than before. It was only then that she had noticed that the whole-body experience she had had in the past week or so where she had felt like her very bones were vibrating had more or less subsided. The only conscious pain she had was in her own head.

It made no sense to think otherwise but logic dictated that it might have had something to do with being where ever she was now. Breaking eye contact Kit looked around the room her eyes finding the window and noting that the scenery outside was nothing like she remembered from where she had been. Not only that but it appeared to be a different time zone.

“I couldn’t believe it when they told me but seeing you here now… I thank the Graces for bringing my child back to me.” The words spoken by the Queen were executed flawlessly like an Oscar-winning actress.

“You say that but I have no clue as to who you are.” Kit replied quickly turning back to look at the other woman. For a brief moment, it looked as if a shadow had passed over the Queen’s eyes.

“Is that any way to speak to your mother?” For a second Kit though she saw something shift in the Queen’s face. It was like something was showing through a crack in a veneer. Her expression changed so quickly before returning to that unnerving crocodile smile that it was almost easy to believe it to be a trick of the light. Curious to see if it would happen again and also with no real reason not to keep stating the obvious truth Kit continued to press on.

“I wouldn’t know I’ve never had one.” Kit shrugged watching for any signs that the Queen was going to do something.

“I would call you out on your insolence for talking to me in such a manner but I understand that you might take some time to adjust and that you know nothing of your origins.” The ocean blue eyes seemed to grow darker as if the depths of them were deepening. The smile on her face was so forced it was almost a painful grimace and the rings glinted in the sunlight as her fingers twitched. “Fine then let us start at the beginning. I am Queen of this land that makes you a Princess.” The Queen stood there beginning her explanations.

“Princess? You cannot be serious.” Kit caught herself before her laugh could progress past the initial snigger. Whatever was happening here it was clear that everything she knew was about to get a lot more complicated. If this was a lie or a dream it was a very convincing one.

“It is your birth right. Honestly, I wonder what kind of a land you grew up in to become such a…” The Queen trailed off her harsh tone evaporating as the light seemed to return to her blue eyes. “Anyway. About thirty cycles have passed since you were last by my side. You were only a baby at the time so you cannot possibly understand the level of betrayal that surrounded your disappearance at the time.”

“Betrayal?” Kit raised her eyebrows. She had naturally been told some from her father when she visited him but there was nothing in what he said that made it sound like the Queen had been the one to be victimised.

If Kit had been on guard before she was a lot warier thanks to the Queen’s phrasing. There are always two sides to a story, three if you want to get pedantic about it. Yours, theirs and the truth. Sometimes you needed to see or hear all three before you could know for sure but she remembered the sincere look in her father’s eyes as he told her about things. He hadn’t been lying to her. When he said he was worried or scared it had been the truth. It might take a bit more time to figure out how much blame could be placed and where in this situation but it wasn’t going to happen right this second.  

“Such an ugly topic of conversation. I would rather not discuss such things right now. Right now, we should be celebrating. The long-awaited return of the lost Princess.” The Queen practically sang her words as she began animatedly walking around the room. Once more it struck Kit as a performance. Something to show a crowd but there was no one here except for Kit. “We should have a feast – no a ball. And invite everyone from across the unified lands to gather. You will need a dress and someone simply must do something with your hair and make-up of course.” The Queen had taken some strands of Kit’s hair in her hand and let it fall through her fingers as she continued to assess her like she was nothing more than an object. “I’m not convinced there will be enough time to do anything more than that to make you presentable to the world but that can wait till later.”

The Queen’s expression was that of a judgemental frown and it did nothing but make Kit bristle. She had had years of her life without a mother where she had been reminded time and again that she was in a lot of respects not very girly or ladylike. None of that had ever mattered to her. She had never wanted to change and was happy enough in her own skin. And yet here was someone, her mother no less, that was wanting to change every aspect as if she wasn’t good enough.

“Wait a minute! I’ve just got here and you are telling me I’m your daughter. Not just that but a Princess by default. I can ignore the passively insulting my appearance but don’t you think it’s a little crazy to just decide to throw a huge celebration on a whim?” Kit took a step backwards removing her person from the touchy-feely hands pawing at her.

“I am the Queen. My whim is the law of this land and you child would do well to remember such and hold your tongue.” It was not so much a warning as an order.

“Sorry never been very good at that.” Kit obstinately replied refusing to back down in the face of a bully.

“Then learn. Someone will be with you shortly for a fitting.” The Queen elegantly glided out of the room leaving a chill in the air as she went.

---

The staff in the castle were moving around with hushed whispers as they gossiped about the new arrival. Some of the older members of staff had more of a drawn-out worried pallor to their faces than the younger ones.

A white figure cut through the rooms of the castle as it wandered around gleaning information as it went. They knew the room, that the Queen had visited. They had even found out about the grand display that was being planned and laughed at the show of audaciousness given the situation.

Cards had been dealt, the die cast and all the pieces were in play. And now out of nowhere a wild card. One that could tip the scale and provide a certain level of uncertainty to the playing field. They had not seen much more than a glimpse of the returning offspring but from what they were hearing they were very entertaining. Who would have the backbone to stand against the Queen? No one in seven lands had survived to tell that tale.

“Such a curious little creature.”

---

The roadside diner was like stepping foot into a time warp. Old vending machines and metal signs decorated it with what now could be called a retro, vintage vibe. The tables and booths still seemed to be upholstered with the same serviceable fabric as when the place first opened.

Col looked around the place almost expecting to see his younger self at one of the tables with a small Kit and her father. A waitress came out of the swing doors at the back carrying a plate loaded with pancakes the size of hubcaps and a jug of syrup. He felt his stomach grumble as he remembered he hadn’t eaten anything yet. His eyes followed the staff member hungrily until she had placed the dish on a table with a figure, he knew all too well.

“Thorn.”

The man turned at the sound of his name the cutlery in his hand chinking lightly on the side of his plate as he did so. He was the same man he remembered from the barbeques in the summers of time past. One guy in a stream of many that knew Kit and tagged along to gatherings. He had wondered if there had been something more romantic between them but he later figured out he had nothing to be concerned over. Thorn’s hair was shorter and pushed back these days. His suit was a more expensive brand but still off the rack. Fine lines now etched his face telling of the passage of time and the stress of promotion.

“Col. It’s been a while. How’s it going?” Thorn smiled and turned back to his stack of fluffy pancakes.

“Logistical shit storm would be putting it mildly.” Col slipped into the booth seating by the window and watched the other man pour syrup over the melting butter as if he were trying to drown it. “Are you going to tell me a bit more about my missing freelancer or are you expecting me to continue to field questions in the dark?”

“I told you everything I know already.” Thorn shrugged stuffing a loaded forkful into his mouth not making eye contact.

“Dammit Thorn what you told me amounted to nothing and you know it.” Col was irritated with the off-hand reaction. He had been slowly going out of his mind with worry and here was someone who claimed to be a friend of hers who apparently didn’t have the same common decency to be worked up at all. To make it worse he knew it was him that had sent those files.

“Yes, I do but I can’t change the facts.” Thorn looked out of the window for a moment before turning to face Col head-on. The emotions he was not showing physically were clear as crystal in those green eyes. “How much did Kit tell you before she left?”

“Nothing. I did call her father out of curtesy for an old friend but…” Col felt his anger at the other man dissipate when he realised, he was not so indifferent to the situation. Feeling a little uncomfortable to have the tables turned on him now in the cross-examination he brought his hand up to his neck and ran his fingers over his collar imagining it to be more of a noose than starched cotton.

“You didn’t tell him she’s missing?” Thorn paused in shovelling his syrup loaded breakfast into his mouth and quirked his brow at his companion.

“I don’t think that’s the kind of thing you tell people over the phone.” Col dropped his hand from his neck and motioned for the waitress so he could order coffee. She gave him a smile in acknowledgement as she finished serving some customers at the bar.

“Be with you in a minute Hun.”

“You were part of it, weren’t you? The Original investigation.” Thorn waited for the exchange to finish before he continued. He knew the contents of those files he had sent. The list of names of attending officers and all the dead ends that had been found. The evidence collected that generated more questions than it ever answered.

“You know I was.  I was still a rookie back then not much more than a greenhorn in these parts.” Col grumbled. The memories of that time had been a mixed bag. He had been happy about the transfer. A chance to set up roots in a new place and get out into the world and make a difference in it. But he also remembered all the strange things. The bodies, the lifeless expressions… the movements in the dark.

“How well do you remember it?”

“I still have nightmares if that’s what you’re asking.”

---

Everything was happening so fast. True to their word the Queen seemed to have set into motion preparations for a grand celebration and with that a small army that also felt as if it was part circus paraded in and out of the bedroom Kit had been occupying.

They had been poked, measured, constricted, contorted and preened into someone completely unrecognisable. Her hair shone like spun gold, her skin was flawless porcelain and her figure that was now bound in a corset dipped and curved more than ever.

She was completely exhausted and wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of this shapewear. After almost shoving the last person out of the room she pulled her hair to the side of her neck and began to unlace the ribbons. It was then with almost perfectly laughable timing that a knock came to the door. Kit sighed as it seemed her release from the steel boned prison was going to have to wait and she covered herself with a robe before answering the visitor.

“Hello, Little One.”

---

[princessamericachavez]

treasures left behind

As he walks back to his quarters, all Fjord can think of is sleep. It might’ve only been a few hours for them inside that damn magic ball, but now that he thinks about it, the exhaustion weighing him down certainly feels seven days old (if not more). The pounding in his head has only gotten worse since the fight, and his body still aches even after Caduceus’s magic healed most of the burns that’d scorched his skin earlier. All he wants to do is collapse and forget about everything that just transpired. 

Before he can make it to his room, however, he’s intercepted by a surprisingly calm Caduceus, holding a tray with two teacups in his hands.

“Hi,” Fjord sighs, halfheartedly, not really in the mood for a conversation.

“Hey,” Caduceus smiles, voice sweet and thick as honey, holding out the tray, “I thought some calming tea would be good after today’s tensions.”

“Thanks, Clay, but I think I’m just gonna sleep it off.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean for you. Well, not only you. I thought you could bring it over to Jester, too.”

Fjord tilts his head, feeling a frown crease his eyebrows with confusion. Caduceus stares at him, expectant for a second, as if he expected Fjord to understand some unspoken truth, until clear disappointment settles on the fireblog’s shoulders. A judgemental look, that Fjord has become uncomfortably familiar with, crosses his features for a moment until it all settles with a defeated sigh.

“She’s not alright, Fjord. The fight clearly left her shaken.”

“I’d say it shook all of us,” Fjord concedes. 

“If she keeps bottling up these things we might end up losing her. She’ll either walk away when it gets too much or keep pushing herself until she doesn’t make it out from the fight. Today was a close call. She needs to talk to someone. She needs you.”

“Me?” Fjord blinks. Why someone would need him, after his failures have done nothing but put everyone in danger, is beyond him, but Caduceus’s eyes are firm as he all but forces the tea tray into his hands.

“You are the one she trusts the most.”

Before Fjord can argue further, Caduceus turns around and leaves heading back to the kitchens. 

Dammit.

With a resigned sigh, Fjord makes his way down to Jester and Beau’s quarters. He takes a breath to steady himself —an unfamiliar uneasiness twisting his guts for some reason— before knocking with the tip of his boots. There’s a long silence, long enough to make him suspect that Jester is asleep already and he may get to bypass the conversation, before he hears the ruffle of clothes and shifting of feet on the other side of the wood. 

“Oh. Hi, Fjord,” Jester greets him, voice smaller than usual. She smiles up at him, but the expression lacks its usual brightness. The rim of her eyes is reddened, dulling the intense violet of her eyes, and he notices the traces of dampness down her cheeks. 

Shit.

“Hey, Jester,” he says, voice gentle. “Are you okay?”

“Sure! Of course, I am!” She shrugs.

Right. Stupid question.

“Yeah, uh, Caduceus thought we could use some tea before we go to sleep,” he tries, instead. “May I come in.”

“Oh, yes, of course, come in,” Jester opens the door and gestures inside dramatically as if she was letting a king into her private castle.

Fjord smiles, bemused, and walks in. He finds a small desk between the beds, and beelines to it to settle down the tray on it before his exhaustion makes him spill it all over the floor. His eyes catch a glance of Jester’s open sketchbook, several pages ripped and crumbled around it, on the open spread there’s a pretty terrifyingly realistic drawing of the blue dragon with its jaw wide open and sharp teeth ready to rip someone’s flesh off.

His stomach twists again, harder, as he remembers seeing —from the shadow valley of his blink spell— the dragon unleashing that very bite against Jester. The image is vivid enough to send a new wave of panic through his body. He forces himself to turn around, to remember they are all alive and in one piece, but when he does all he finds is the ghost of that memory dancing behind Jester’s shaky features. She looks smaller than usual, standing in the middle of the room, twisting her skirt between her fingers.

“So, that was pretty crazy, uh?” She speaks before he can find any words of his own. Her lips are twisted into half a playful smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes even as she looks up at him, with what feels like their usual banter.

“It was,” he admits, a little breathless. “I’ll admit... fighting a dragon was never something I pictured myself doing.”

“Yeah, me neither,” she huffs a laugh. 

“It’s not the craziest thing we’ve done, though. I mean, we’ve done some pretty crazy stuff since we all got together,” Fjord says, careful. “So what’s wrong this time?”

“What- What do you mean?” She blinks up at him, innocence and lies all at once.

“What’s wrong, Jester?” He forces himself to ask, taking a step forward and pinning her with a firm look, not letting go of her eyes even as he sees tears gather in them. 

“What’s wrong?” She repeats, huffing a laugh that manages to sound infuriated. “What’s wrong, Fjord?! You wanna know what’s wrong?!?” Her voice raises as she speaks, shaking before him. “First- First you and Caleb start doing some weird shit with blood and magic rituals and hurting yourselves and you won’t tell me why! And then we suddenly appear in some weird place that keeps trying to kill all of us and you- you go and you disappear, Fjord! You disappeared and I had no idea where you were or how we could find you and I didn’t even know if you were alive or what! Because you keep doing stupid stuff and getting in trouble!”

Fjord winces. He knows he got lucky, even if that trap landed him into a dragon’s lair, it could’ve been much worse. That could’ve been the end. One tap of his finger in the wrong place and he could’ve been gone for good.

“And then we had to fight a dragon, Fjord! A giant blue dragon! And everyone kept disappearing, you know? Everyone turned invisible and everyone left and I-” tears are running freely down her cheeks now as she speaks, voice wavering every couple words. “I thought- I really thought I was going to die today! And I was alone! I was alone again! And you-you all left. You left!” She presses a furious finger to his chest, as tears still stream down her face like two blue rivers and all he can do is look into her violet eyes as they peer through him full of anger and betrayal. “You left me!”

Those three words pierce a hole in him, like a blade to his chest, make the world spin around him, out of focus, as the weight of that accusation threatens to drown him.

“Jester...”

He tries to start, but the words get stuck inside him like salt water in his lungs.

What can he tell her? Even the truth seems bleak to him at the moment. He could tell her that he tried, that he ran to her and that he never intended to leave her behind. He could say that he was willing to receive the full brunt of the dragon’s anger if it meant sparing her. He could tell her that when he ran, she was nowhere to be seen, that he hoped she’d either made it out or be right behind him. He could confess that the seconds that spread between his return to the ship and hers were one of the longest in his life, that he would have jumped back into the fray if he’d been able to. 

He could admit he failed her, again. Even that doesn’t seem like enough. 

So he says the only words that make it past his lips:

“I’m sorry, Jester. I’m so sorry.”

She breaks. The sound of her sob echoes across the room, between his ribs, vibrates down his bones, sends a chill through his every muscle. He pulls her into a hug without thinking, pressing her against his chest as if her presence could fill the painful gap her words carved in him. He feels her tense in his grasp for a moment, shoulders shaking violently against him until some of the tension bleeds out of her and her arms wrap around his sore body, far too tight to be comfortable but he’s not about to complain. 

“I’m so sorry,” he repeats, bending down to press his mouth against the top of her head, fitting perfectly between her horns. 

“I w-was s-so scared,” she sobs muffled against his clothes. 

“Me too,” he sighs, feeling his own eyes suddenly burn with tears that he desperately tries to fight back, “but we got you. You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

“You left,” Jester repeats, and this time its not so much of an accusation.

“I know. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.”

She cries for a long time, longer than he can fight back the couple tears that end up dripping down his chin. He holds her tightly against him because its easier to breathe with her in his arms, even if her strong embrace threatens to smother him. He holds her because she needs him to, and he’s not about to leave her again.

“I want my mama,” Jester whispers after a while, and it doesn’t sound like a childish request but as a sincere and painful confession. 

“We’ll get you to your mother,” he says gently, running his fingers through her dark blue hair. “I promise.”

And she nods against his chest. She believes him. Just like that, she believes him again. 

Finally, Jester pulls back, face puffy and eyes reddened, looking down at her feet shyly. Without stepping away, Fjord bends over slightly to face her, and brings a hand up, on a whim, to cup her cheek.

“Jester, look at me,” he asks, as softly as he can manage, Vandrin’s accent long gone from his voice. Slowly, her eyes rise to meet his, and it makes his heart ache to notice the fear behind that look. He brings a thumb up to clean one last stray tear making its way down her cheekbone. “Hey, I’m not gonna leave you, okay?” 

She looks at him unmoving as if she doesn’t believe me. 

“I mean it. I’ll swear it on all the gods if I have to. I’m never going to leave you alone.”

There’s a moment when he fears she won’t believe him, that he has lost for good that trust he took for granted all this time until, eventually, her eyes soften and a tentative smile curves her lips.

“Okay,” she whispers softly.

And just like that —even though it shouldn’t be that easy, even though he doesn’t deserve it, even though there’s still so much to fix— the world seems a little less hopeless.

Once relief hits him, so does the fact that he’s standing inches away from Jester, her body brushing his as he cups her jaw, and her face is so close to his that he can see his own breathing ruffle the tips of her sea colored bangs. Time seems to stop, and then catch up to him at full speed.

“Right, hum, okay,” he clears his throat, pulling away as his face burns. “So, I’m- I’m glad you’re okay. I’m gonna leave the tea here now and let you sleep.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,” Jester’s voice is high pitched, filled with its usual vibrant energy again. “Sure. Yeah. I- I would try to heal you, but I’m all tapped you know, so we should probably sleep.”

“Yeap. Sure. We should,” he mumbles as he makes his way to the door. As he grabs the handle, though, one last idea pops into his head. “You should rest up,” he says, more calmly, “we have a long trip ahead to get you back to Nicodranas.”

The way Jester’s whole face lights up is better than any healing magic in all of the realms. She smiles and nods excitedly. 

“A’right, goodnight,” his voice turns back to his usual cadence.

“Night, Fjord. Thank you.”

“Always.”

[keeroo92]

Savior, Bloodstain, Hellfire, Shadow Ch27 (V x Reader)

Chapter 27 - Agony and Ecstasy

________________________________________________

June 15th, 11:14 am

V’s emerald eyes are shadowed, downcast in defeat as he watches tiny fragments of his body float away in the wind, signifying his mortality in an impossible to ignore fashion. For a moment, you can’t comprehend what you’re seeing. The cracks in his skin were one thing, but this? You don’t have a medical term to describe what’s happening to the man you love. He sighs heavily, his shoulders sagging as he reverts to his previous cold acceptance of his fate.

“No, no no don’t you do that! Don’t you give up on me!” you cry out, only to see his lips twist into a sad, accepting smile. You pull him into your arms, stroking his back and his hair.

 No, no, no this can’t be happening!

An icy chain wraps itself around your heart, squeezing it harshly in your rib cage as you feel it crack under the pressure. The unfairness of life has been a constant theme for you, yet this is the cruelest stroke of all. V trembles weakly in your arms as your tears stream down your cheeks, your hiccupping breath stuttering in your pained chest as you replay the moment endlessly. The image of his beautiful fingertips, tiny flakes of his body carried away in the heartless breeze as if he were so much dust.

 Maybe I can fix it? Maybe I can heal him?

You pull his lips to yours for a desperate kiss, tasting the salt of your own tears as you attempt to convey how much you love this man through the motion of your lips alone.

 Please, God, in whatever form you actually are, please save him! I’ll do anything, give anything you ask! I’ll pay any toll for his life!

The void doesn’t answer. It never will.

Your lips tremble against his, your jaw vibrating from the strength of your stifled sobs. His arms wrap around you in a delicate embrace, his tattooed hands stroking your spine warmly. His mouth on yours is a chorus of movement both achingly wonderful and maddeningly terrible because you know you may have very few chances to kiss him remaining.

 Don’t think like that, Y/N! He’s going to be fine; he has to!

He sighs softly into your lips, his shaking hands coming up to stroke your face tenderly, as if he’s trying to memorize the sensation. You pull back at the thought to stare into his emerald eyes, seeing the pain and fear he’s feeling in the dark shadows within. The utter despair in his expressive eyes breaks you even further, the crack in your heart widening into a chasm. You pull him closer, laying your head in the crux of his shoulder and letting his familiar scent comfort you.

 Please don’t leave me, please don’t leave me…

“I’ll try,” he whispers hoarsely, and you realize you must have vocalized the thought without meaning to. You lean away to look at his hand again – there aren’t any more specks floating away but it obviously hadn’t recovered, small cracks running through his previously smooth skin amongst the dark lines of ink. You caress the crevasses, feeling for yourself how deep they run, and your heart splits in half.

“It doesn’t hurt,” V tells you in surprise. You hadn’t even considered that, too focused on the ramifications of the decay of his flesh to imagine how it might feel from his perspective.

 What would it feel like to know your body is fading away?

 I hope I never find out for myself.

“I think… I think I can continue,” V informs you hesitantly. “We should try to catch up to Dante.”

“But… V, you should try to rest first,” you begin.

“You know why I cannot, why I must keep going, no matter the state my body is in,” he replies with a morose shake of his head, his obsidian hair shining in the light.

 Yes, I know… that doesn’t mean I agree!

“We are running out of time. The Qlipoth is almost fully grown; the fruit will appear within the next day unless we can stop it before then,” he continues, panting slightly as he struggles to stand, using his cane for what seems like the first time in days. You sigh in surrender, quickly pulling a protein bar from your bag and handing it to him with a teary smile.

“At least eat while we go, my poet. For me?” you beg him quietly. He smirks and unwraps the bar, taking a small bite as he steps forward.

_____________________________________________

June 15th, 11:27 am

V

Following Dante isn’t difficult. The man leaves a trail of broken scenery behind like a tidal wave, fresh scratches on the ground testifying to his battles. V can still smell ash in the air occasionally, the last remnants of the demons defeated by his brother.

Catching up to him, however, proves a challenge. Since his hand began to crumble, V has felt a massive shift in his energy. He is forced to use his cane with nearly every step, a sign of his growing weakness that makes his jaw clench in frustration as he limps forward doggedly, your sorrowful gaze tracking him worriedly.

 I cannot stop now, not when so much is at stake.

His dreary thoughts are a plague he can’t escape, an itch that resists all attempts at scratching. His very bones are weary, so tired of this inexorable trudge toward death that despite your best efforts, he knows you cannot save him from.

 I’m sorry, little fox. I’m so sorry for what this will do to you. I can’t help but wish you had walked away that day, never decided to join us on this doomed quest.

A pulse of agony rips through him, searing his every nerve in excruciating pain. He falls to his knees, cane clattering as he drops it to grip his head in his hands, lightning bolts arching through his neurons within his aching skull. Shards of glass rip his throat to shreds, knives sinking into his kidneys and stomach and twisting cruelly. He can feel the flames that burned his mother’s corpse into ash licking his skin, the heat burning him alive as he finally hits the pebble strewn ground. His very blood burns like acid in his veins as he curls inward, instinctively moving to protect his core from the invisible foe that is the source of his tormented screaming.

 Make it stop! Make it stop, make it stop makeitstopmakeitstopmakeitstop….

He can no longer see the devastated cityscape surrounding you on all sides, can no longer smell the burning refuse or the rotting garbage. He can no longer hear the wind rushing by, or your voice desperately screaming his name in panic. His existence narrows to only pain, all of his senses completely overwhelmed in the horrors of its ferocity. He cannot even string together a coherent sentence in his mind, his mental processes shattered and mutilated beyond recognition.

Minutes that feel like centuries pass before he hears your voice from somewhere far too distant. He mentally latches on to it, clinging to the sound as if it were a parachute and he were falling from the sky. His pain fades incrementally, brutally slowly as he focuses on your voice and drags his consciousness back from where it had retreated from the agony.

Shame fills his incoherent mind as he regains awareness, finding himself cradled in your arms protectively. His convulsing body stills as your gentle hands stroke his hair, voice murmuring reassurances and comfort as he presses himself closer to you.

 So weak, so powerless. I would not have made it this far alone.

 Holy fuck, V! What the hell just happened?!

 …did you feel it too?

 An echo, not like you did… We all got a taste. You okay?

 …I don’t know. I think I’m dying.

 Shit.

“V? Can you hear me?” your anxious voice questions him. He licks his lips to speak, only to find the words catch in his aching throat, his vocal cords refusing to function in protest of their abuse. He nods instead.

“Can you speak?” you probe softly, and he shakes his head.

“Okay… I’m going to lie you flat and examine you,” you inform him, and he nods again as you scoot back from him, helping his limbs into a position of neutrality. By now his nerves have stopped their spasming and he can feel your touch, feel your careful hands slide up and down his body searching for injuries. After a moment, you lean back with a satisfied smile.

“Nothing external at least. Can you talk yet?”

“I… think so… hurts,” V gasps out through his overworked throat.

“Do you want to try standing or wait a little?” you ask him, brow furrowed slightly.

“Try,” he rasps out. You hand him his cane and crouch nearby, ready to catch him if he needs it. As much as he appreciates the support, he can’t help but also feel irritated by it and its necessity.

 If only I was stronger…

He gets to his hands and knees easily enough, then braces his weight on the cane and pushes, bringing himself into a low crouch. Its uncomfortable, but bearable. He rises further, coming to a full standing position carefully. He takes a few steps cautiously, your arms still awaiting his fall, but he manages to not even stumble. You drop your hands with an apologetic smile, and he forces himself to smile gratefully back, despite his frustrations.  At long last, the pair of you are able to resume your trek, albeit much slower for the time being.

Even with your slow speed, you manage to find Dante not too much farther ahead. There’s a blonde woman lying on the ground near him.

 Trish?

“Dante!” V calls out, breaking into a full run and desperately trying to get the man’s attention.

 There’s so much I must tell him…

But Dante turns away, mounting a motorcycle and barely bothering to send a few more words his way before dashing off. “Take care of Trish for me!”

“Dante, wait!” V exclaims uselessly, and he falls to the ground once more.

 Dammit… always so weak.

In an act of desperation, he commands Griffon to accompany the legendary devil hunter, the blue bird flapping mightily and easily catching up to the speeding motorcycle.

V tries to stand on his own but only falls again. It isn’t until you come to help him that he’s able to rise fully. He angrily chooses a chunk of rubble to sit on, easily able to keep an eye on Trish as she sleeps. He pulls out his book of poetry to try and calm his anxious mind, try to stop thinking about his own death, as you sit beside him with a small smile, taking his unoccupied hand and stroking his fingers gently.

_____________________________________________

June 15th 11:40am

You sit beside V, his hand in yours as he reads quietly. Your mind is racing, wondering if you missed something with your theory. Wondering what more can possibly be done to save V, or if your theory is even right.

 What if it’s wrong? What if he still dies?

You clench his hand in yours tightly, mentally swearing to not let that happen. No matter the cost, you will save V. You have to.

“When Trish wakes, I’m going to tell her everything. She may have better luck in telling Dante than I have thus far,” the lean poet comments suddenly. You hum in acknowledgment, glad that he’s becoming more and more willing to tell the truth of his origin. You hear a quiet sigh and look down to see Trish’s eyes have opened at last. She sits up carefully, holding the blanket covering her nude form in place as she looks around.

“Dante’s left,” she states, her voice unexpectedly soothing.

“Yes… and I don’t think he can win,” V comments back, turning the page in his book.

“What was that demon, V? Where did it come from? Urizen is not a demon. I know for a fact, because I'm from the Underworld,” the blonde woman adds. V doesn’t respond, instead turning the page again with a smirk.

“Oh my god... what are you then?” Trish asks V fearfully, and he closes his book at last to face her and address her directly. Her eyes shift to you curiously for an instant before V speaks and her attention is drawn back to the poet.

“It doesn't matter. I'm a shadow of my former self who lost everything. I will tell you... the story of my birth,” he murmurs softly. You squeeze his hand in a silent show of support as he once again tells his story, voice catching here and there as he describes the moments before his creation and the minutes afterward of sheer terror.

Trish takes it all in stride, her expression barely shifting throughout the telling. She’s an especially difficult person to read, a think outer shell of armor protecting her innermost thoughts from casual observation. You can respect that, even as you find it incessantly annoying.

“I've tried to hold together my crumbling flesh with whatever demonic power I have left, but... I'm approaching my limit. In separating and regaining my human soul, I've realized the gravity of the crime I've committed,” V concludes slowly, his emerald gaze glancing at you as he utters the next few words in a near whisper.  

“I've realized how important everything was... everything I've thrown away in my pursuit for power.”

Finally, the poet is silent, his tale told and his secrets bared. Trish simply gazes at the pair of you, an unreadable expression still holding court over her features.

“Is that why you went to find Dante?” she asks.

“Yes. Foolish. I thought maybe he could change... maybe fix... maybe right my wrong. Tell me... was this fool before you right?”

Trish stands, the blanket covering her naked body somehow morphing into a black leather ensemble that makes you blush with all it reveals. She turns and starts walking past you and V, heading toward the Qlipoth.

“I'm not your mommy, V. You're a big boy. And you need to see this through. Dante's war,” she tells him in a scolding tone, sounding very much like a mother reprimanding her child. V grimaces in pain as he rises to his feet and steps forward to follow her.

 Fuck that.

“V, either you sit back down on your own or I’ll force you. You’re going to rest for a few more minutes whether you like it or not,” you command the poet. He turns to face you, protests already forming on his lips, but you glare at him as threateningly as you can while you cross your arms until he swallows the words. He sighs but obediently sits back down beside you with a smirk.

“I suppose I’m not strong enough to stop you at the moment anyway,” he comments dryly. You take the chance to give him a bottle of water and another protein bar, watching him chew slowly beside you lost in thought. His lighter tattoos look strange to you, Griffon’s absence an empty void hanging in the air.

“Can you talk to Griffon right now?” you ask him curiously, wondering how strong the bond between them has become. He closes his eyes in concentration for a moment before clenching his jaw and shaking his head in frustration.

“I can tell he’s with Dante, see flashes of a house… but I can’t seem to communicate,” he murmurs between bites. Your mind continues its pondering, examining all you know about Urizen and V in an anxious search for answers.

 I don’t know what else to do…

You lean against the poet beside you, careful not to force him to support too much weight in his weakened state. You feel his hand rise to wrap around your shoulders and pull you closer and you succumb to his desires and lay your head in his lap. He strokes your hair, your cheek, your lips. Memorizing your face.

 Damnit, stop doing that!

You glare up at him, anger tinting your words. “V, we can’t give up yet. Please, keep fighting it, keep fighting for who you’ve become. Fight for our future together,” you urge him. He can barely meet your pleading eyes as he sighs heavily, his hand pausing its exploration at your jawline.

“It doesn’t seem to be working, little fox,” he reminds you softly, his eyes mournful as he meets yours.

You brush his hand away and sit up, reaching out to turn his face to yours once more as you sit beside him. Determination and stubbornness color your voice as you respond, your intense glare forcing him to accept what you say as truth.

“You don’t know that. There could be all sorts of reasons you’re still weakening. We’re closer to Urizen than we’ve been in weeks, you’re older now than you were last time you faced him, maybe Dante waking up did something… The point is, we can’t know if it’s failing. We won’t know until Urizen is dead. But as long as there’s even a shred of hope left, we have to keep trying. You have to keep trying. Because goddamnit V, I’ll go after Vergil myself if you merge. I’ll drag you back out kicking and screaming if I have to. I refuse to let you go,” you inform him passionately.

V smirks, looking down for a moment as he absorbs your monologue. After a beat, he carefully turns his body to face yours and pulls you against him, crushing your form against his. You can feel his racing heartbeat, feel the heat radiating off his skin as he embraces you.

“Thank you, little fox,” he whispers into your hair.

_____________________________________________

June 15th, 11:52 am

V

V limps quietly alongside you, your hand grasping his carefully. The Qlipoth ahead is taller than ever, reaching high above the clouds in its daunting height. The grey patchwork structure is impossible to ignore, a now constant backdrop to both his innermost thoughts and the landscape surrounding him. He reflects on your words as you slowly move forward, trying not to focus on how his failing body is preventing you from reaching the tree at a reasonable rate.

Your stubbornness and love, your passion and conviction… it had startled him. Even as the fear of death, of losing this chance at a future threatens to consume him entirely, your presence has helped keep him from tumbling over the abyss into hopelessness. Kept him from surrendering to his fate entirely.

There’s still doubt plaguing his mind, still anxiety tugging at his thoughts. Yet he now refuses to ignore the thin tendril of hope that’s grown miraculously within the garden of his terror. Grown only from your attention.

 Perhaps a little from my friends as well, but mainly Y/N. I wouldn’t even consider them friends if not for her.

 She has utterly changed the course of my life.

Sudden terror grips him as Griffon panics over something Dante is doing. He stops in his tracks, trying to focus on the hazy image he can barely see in his mind, too diluted by distance to have much meaning. You look at him quizzically, your steps halting to stand beside him.

“Griffon… Something’s happened with Dante,” he rumbles. Your eyes color with nervousness as he focuses as hard as he can on the image. Blurred shapes flash into a defined form for an instant before the haze obstructs them again, but he can see Dante standing before a portrait of the entire family, a blade embedded in his chest.

 Not again…

He waits for a moment, then focuses his energy again on the image. He watches in awe as Dante transforms, his body absorbing the blade within and using its power to fuel his new appearance. A stronger version of his devil form, power radiating off his crimson flesh in waves of heat.

The image dissolves as Griffon’s panic vanishes, and V can’t help the wry grin from crossing his face.

 Only Dante…

“What happened, V?” your shaky voice asks. He smirks at you as he answers.

“Dante has absorbed the Sparda. The reckless fool stabbed himself. He has grown stronger, perhaps strong enough to win,” he ruefully states. He chuckles, bitterly amused at his brother’s ability to gather strength and how it mirrors his own decline. Always opposites, the two of them.

“Really? So… you might not even need to fight Urizen?” you probe hopefully. He shakes his head, refusing to miss the final fight.

“I must be there, must witness Urizen’s destruction myself no matter who strikes the blow,” he answers determinedly.

“Would it be dangerous to do it? To kill Urizen?” you thoughtfully ask him. He pauses, not having fully considered it.

 I suppose it could be dangerous. I have no idea what will happen to his body.

“It may be. I cannot even begin to guess what will become of his remains. He may have even set a trap for anyone who dares to strike him,” V pronounces with a slight frown. He watches your face carefully, suspicion growing in his mind as your features shift from curiosity to resolve.

“Then I should be the one to do it,” you state boldly, and his heart skips a beat.

 No, no no little fox! You can’t be serious!

As if you had read his racing thoughts, you smile at him tenderly and elaborate.

“If it is dangerous, how much more hope and fear would fill you if I was the one taking the risk? If I was the one who could get hurt?”

He grimaces, already knowing the truth of your words yet refusing to accept the risks. You had to be safe, you had to survive. Even if he was doomed, he absolutely would not under any circumstances drag you down with him. Unthinkable.

“Irrelevant. It will not be you, I won’t allow it,” he forcefully pronounces. You only smile wider, reaching out to stroke his cheek tenderly.

“V… the whole idea about keeping you alive functions on you experiencing as much emotion as possible. As arrogant as it feels to say it, I’m the one you care about the most. Seeing me strike down Urizen… watching me walk up to him… you can’t deny how it would make you feel. It might be the final key, the last shred of humanity that saves you,” you explain carefully.

 I know she’s right, but I cannot allow this!

“The risk is too great. Let Nero do it, or Dante,” he miserably begs you.

You shake your head, your hair catching the light beautifully.

“You care about Nero, true, but he’s only a friend. And you hate Dante, you’d be happy to see him fall. It has to be me,” you declare. “V, at this point, how could you even stop me? This is my decision to make, so you can either help me save you or fight me and lose anyway.”

 Damn. She’s right, I couldn’t stop her even if I tried. I’m too weak, always too weak.

He presses his forehead to yours, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek. It goes against every fiber of his being, every single one of his protective instincts screaming in his mind to not even consider letting you do this.

But he has no choice.

He cannot fight you.

“I don’t like it, not one bit. But you have a point. Just… promise me you’ll be careful?” he begs you, surrendering to your will at last. You nod, your lovely eyes lighting up happily at his agreement.

“I promise. Thank you, my poet,” you murmur gratefully, and then you close the gap to kiss him lovingly. His tongue darts out to taste you, craving your unique flavor. A surge of lust overtakes him as you open to his attentions, his arms pulling you against him forcefully as his blood thunders in his ears. He wants you, all of you. He wants to consume you and never let you go. You are his, now and always, and he desperately craves the chance to claim you once again.

V doesn’t care that you’re in the middle of a street. Doesn’t care that there’s chunks of stonework and broken buildings surrounding you. Doesn’t care that the only remotely clean or flat surface is a small portion of sidewalk. He tugs you toward it, easily stripping off his vest as he goes. Your mouth pops open in surprise but you don’t fight him as he carefully lowers you onto the pavement, using his vest as a pillow so your head doesn’t lie on the cold ground.

“Really, V? Here?” you whisper. He grins ferally, his hands already working at your top as he growls his response.

“Yes.”

You blush deeply, eyes darting around the area to check for other witnesses to your carnal pleasures. You find not a single soul, as he knew you would, and seem to settle as he pulls your shirt over your head.

“You are mine, little fox,” he murmurs lustily, and his mouth descends to decorate your bare chest with kisses and bites. You wrap your arms around him, but he tuts. He pulls back and looks you in the eyes.

“If you want me to stop, say ‘juniper’, yes?” he instructs you and another powerful bolt of heat rips through him as he sees your swollen lips stretch into a hungry smile, your glazed eyes narrowing as you nod forcefully. He descends upon your form once more, his arms moving to pin yours at your sides so you’re helpless to his actions. He needs to feel powerful, feel in control even though he would never force you.

He grins darkly as your hands, pinned to your sides, drift to your waist to open your belt. You release him as well, clumsily baring you both to the chilly air. A wicked smile twists his lips as he has a sudden idea, and he rises, pulling his pants up enough so they don’t trip him as he pulls you up. He plants his lips on yours again instantly, his tongue ravaging your mouth passionately as he backs you against a small sedan nearby. You gasp as the back of your legs hit the metal, another exhalation escaping you as he grips your hips and flips you face down.

He drops his pants again, working himself out of his briefs as you extend your arms out on the hood of the brown car, the dust already showing where your body has touched it. The sight pleases him immensely.

“Good girl, always so obedient for me,” he rumbles, his long fingers parting your legs easily as you whimper in desire. He tears your panties away forcefully, a small ripping sound accompanying the motion as he flings them away dismissively.

“Yes, I’m a good girl for you V. Show me how good I’ve been,” you whine as he drags a single digit through your slick folds.

“Hmm. You’ve also been very naughty, my little fox. I ought to punish your misbehaving,” he growls in response, using the tone he knows you can’t resist. You moan, the sound starting a fire in his belly and making him bare his teeth in a wolfish smile.

He raises a hand and smacks your bare ass, leaving a delightful red mark behind in his wake as you squeal. He listens carefully for a moment, in case you need him to stop, but only hears your ragged breathing. He smacks your ass again, another red mark joining the first as you groan.

“Please, V... please… I need you,” you beg, and a heady rush of power fills him.

“Not yet, love. I’m not done punishing you yet,” he groans back with a smirk. He takes a moment to enjoy the view, your arms outstretched and trying to find purchase against the smooth metal of the brown vehicle beneath you, your legs parted and shaking slightly in your excitement. Two red marks on your round ass where he’s marked you as his. He adds one more mark with a final smack, making you gasp amidst your staccato breaths.

“Now, for your reward,” he whispers just loud enough for you to hear. He delights in the way you shift your hips, angling yourself for his ease.

 Not yet…

He strokes himself a few times, satiating his own needs just enough to focus his mind as he slides a finger inside you. A delicious moan reaches his ears from your parted lips and he curls his digit just the way he knows you like it. The way you breathe his name jolts him, the low fire in his belly becoming a raging inferno as he feels your wetness. He withdraws his finger and steps forward at long last, his hands gripping your hips in a bruising grip.

“Such a good little fox…”  he rumbles and slowly presses his hips forward. His eyes flutter closed as his head breaches you, the tight tunnel welcoming him home like a lost pet. His own moan joins in with yours as you clench around him, the slick fluids allowing him to inch his way further inside at a pace that would make a snail impatient.

His hips finally become flush with your ass as he sheathes himself fully. One of his hands moves from your quaking hip to fist in your hair, pulling your head up so he can see the blissful expression on your face. He holds your head there as he pulls away, your brows furrowing as you bite your lower lip. He bucks forward again, reveling in the sharp gasp that escapes your lips as you are suddenly filled again.

He releases your head, laying his hand on your spine and holding you against the cold metal as he thrusts voraciously, his panting breath echoing your own. You do your best to angle your hips to meet his, clearly desperate for friction on your tiny bundle of nerves.

“You’re being so good, you deserve a reward,” he gasps out and the hand still on your hip descends, finding its way between your thighs and stroking your clit the way he knows you like. Your cries elevate his feeling of dominance even further, still not uttering the word he’d told you before he began. He feels you approaching your peak, your body sending him all the signals he needs. He stills his fingers and his hips, leaving you panting and wriggling in frustration beneath him.

“Did I say you could come yet, love?” he rumbles, leaning closer to your ear to ensure you can hear him.

Your face says it all – he has total control over you as you willingly surrender to his will and still your hips.

“Good girl,” he growls, standing tall once more and resuming his ferocious pounding. The dust under your form mixes with your sweat, a watery mess coating your front as he molds you to his desires. He can’t help the long moan that sounds from him as you find your rhythm together, the wet slapping of flesh marking your union audibly.

He’s close now, he can feel it.

 I want to feel her come with me.

He resumes his little touches, bringing you just to the edge to join him. With a final shout, he rubs the spot that he knows will send you over, your clenching walls and signature orgasmic moan rewarding his intimate knowledge of your body as his stuttering hips clench, his own pleasure pulsing between his legs within you. His skin prickles, his vision flashing with color as the high of release fills his consciousness.

His blood pounds in his veins as he comes to a stop, spent. The two of you both pant heavily as you catch your breath, the exertion such a wonderful strain on your lungs. His hands leave your body as he stands and pulls away with a slight squelch, your mixed fluids spilling out of you as he joins you on the hood, laying down and meeting your half-lidded gaze.

A long moment passes of the two of you simply staring at each other, reveling in ecstasy.

“I love you,” V finally murmurs, and you smile that smile he so adores, lips twisting to perfectly display your teeth in an expression of utter joy.

“I love you, too,” you whisper back, and his own joyful smile matches yours.