#She refuses to let herself spiral and hurt and hate the way Rose did.

[creepy-crowleys]

For Bad: Is there anyone who had an undeniable negative impact on your OC’s life? How did your OC deal with that change? Have they been able to move on?

oc asks: relationships edition

Rose, Crowley's great-aunt through her father. So. His aunt actually, not Crowley's, she just usually drops the great because extra syllable, not actually a judgement.

She really wasn't great though.

Rose was never a particularly happy person. She'd had a lot of loss in her life, and she'd never been able to handle it well. And it only got worse as time went on. She was barely keeping afloat when Crowley's family died, with Crowley's dad being one the very few people she was still close to at that point.

She really meant to honor his memory by taking in his surviving daughter. But she never was able to handle it.

Rose struggles with grief and anxiety. She wants to hold on to things that remind her of her loved ones, but then has never been able handle actually facing the proof of their loss. With things, she can have them and keep them and lock them away where she never has to actually look at them and confront the weight they carry. And that was never going to work when the memento in question is a person.

And Crowley in particular occupied a kind of uncanny valley for Rose: She is so much like her father in so many ways, but she can never be fully mistaken for him. And it resulted in Rose often swinging wildly between wanting Crowley to be more like him but also not like him at all, and that... really shaped a lot of their relationship, especially once Marlene wasn't there to balance things out. There was never anything Crowley could do that was right because Rose could never decide what she wanted out of her.

And then it all hit a breaking point when Crowley attempted suicide and spiraled from there.

Rose is a kind of anxious that manifests in anger and blame, so once Crowley was mostly in the clear, it turned all turned into how ungrateful and selfish she was to abandon her aunt and throw away everything Rose had done for her, clearly Rose would have to keep her on a tighter leash to keep her safe from herself, she clearly wasn't capable of taking care of herself, etc.

And Crowley mostly shut down from that point. The guilt and shame of being that damaged a person led to cutting herself off from Marlene as even a long-distance confidant. It took years for her to decide that she wanted to try to prove herself useful (and maybe visit her family's grave, she wanted see them too).

It's taken a few years of being away for Crowley to really come to terms with Rose's treatment of her. It's still hard for her to say that it was abuse outright - there are too many people out there with worse stories than hers to feel comfortable with it - but she can at least acknowledge that it wasn't right, that little of it was her fault, and even what was, didn't warrant the response she got in many cases. She knows now that a lot of things Rose had her convinced of weren't true.

The whole experience has left Crowley hyper-conscious of where she might be prone to falling into the same kinds of patterns. She needs people to be able to walk away if she's asking too much, and she needs them to be sure they're sticking around because they want to and not out of some sense of obligation. She doesn't want to force the same kind of control Rose had on her onto anyone else.

And even if hers tends to turn inwards rather than out, she's very aware of how her fear can pipeline into anger and blame.

Crowley is still her aunt's child, she still carries pieces of her whether she wants them or not. But. When she started noticing those patterns emerging, she did something her aunt never could and sought help for it. She never wanted to inflict on her child what her aunt did to her, or on anyone else.

#It still ended poorly but the effort was being made and still is. #She refuses to let herself spiral and hurt and hate the way Rose did. #.FROM THE HANDLER #.RECEIVE #Anonymous #.meme #.abuse #.child abuse #.suicide

[n0wornever]

I Miss You - Julie x Fem!Reader

Julie x fem reader where reader is most definitely a giant f girl- she does weed and crap but she’s like hopelessly in love with julie who wants nothing to do with her.....”

Disclaimer: Not going to lie, I struggled with this one. Substance abuse is a hard topic to write without making the relationship unhealthy (I know weed isn’t that bad, but you know what I mean), so I kind of put a spin on this request.  I hope you still like it :) 

Julie Molina knew one thing: You can’t force anyone to change. 

That’s why she merely sat in the background as she watched her ex-girlfriend make a fool of herself in the middle of this party. 

Y/N and Julie had been friends since elementary school, and dated for a year up til last January. It was that winter that the older girl started hanging out with a less than savory crowd who convinced her to take up habits that Julie just couldn’t approve of. The third time the girl had shown up to her house, in front of her family, reeking like whisky, Julie told her to leave and that she didn’t want to see her again.

The girl took it to heart, and Julie hadn’t heard from her since. However, she had seen the girl spiral from afar. Every party they were both at, Y/N was destined to go home so drunk after flirting with some girl all night in the corner of the room. She normally ended the night blacked out or so high that she could barely formulate a sentence. Although it hurt to watch someone she used to love fall flat on her face, Julie knew it wasn’t worth the risk of taking her problems on, atop of her own when the girl clearly didn't want to stop herself. 

Y/N grabbed the waist of the girl next to her, and Julie watched as the girl who was clearly off-balance to begin with, tried to lean into the other’s ear with a smirk on her face. The two girls went toppling down as Y/N could barely stand. Julie sighed, setting her drink on the table and rushing toward the scene.

Michael, a guy from her 4th period chemistry class, helped the other girl up, pushing Y/N to the side in the process. Julie gave him a pointed glare as she reached for her former girlfriend’s wrist. 

“Come on, Y/N, it’s time to go home.” 

The girl looked up at her with drooping eyelids, swaying softly side to side. Another boy assisted Julie in getting the girl to stand up right, wrapping her arm around his neck. The boy helped usher Y/N to Julie’s passenger side seat. Julie thanked the boy and he waved as he ran back toward the house. 

As she got into the car, she took a look at her passenger. Y/N was knocked out cold, leaning against the frosted window. Julie bit down on her lip as she watched her cheek slide down the glass. The younger girl removed her jacket, leaning over toward the other seat. She lifted Y/N’s head for a moment to place the soft fleece between her and the bitter cold material. 

She put the car in drive and then pushed quickly down the street. As she approached Y/N’s house, she felt her heart rate pick up as she searched up and down the driveway. She saw that both parents cars were gone, a stroke of luck she’d begged for silently on their drive there. She unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the door to the frigid cold. She rubbed her hands together for warmth as she walked over to the other side carefully, watching for patches of ice.

She softly knocked on the window to jar the girl’s eyes opened. Y/N lifted her head off the window, staring over at Julie with puffy eyes. Julie pursed her lips as she opened the door. Y/N stared at the girl as her breath came out in a cloud of frozen air. 

“Y/N, come on, let’s go.” 

The girl moved her head enough to slightly nod, and took Julie’s hand. It took a moment, but she was able to stabilize herself on the slippery ground as the two walked over to the front door. Julie knew the girl wasn’t coherent enough to find her keys, so the girl reached across, placing her hand in Y/N’s front pocket. 

“Getting a little fresh there, Molina,” She slurred, Julie feeling her hot breath on her neck. 

Julie found the keys, and pulled them out of the jean pocket. When she met the girl’s gaze again, she rolled her eyes at her. 

“You wish, Y/N.” 

Y/N chuckled, leaning onto Julie’s side as she opened the door. They both stepped inside the warmth awaiting inside the front door, and Julie set the keys on the ring above the shoe rack. She shifted Y/N’s grip on her neck and moved toward the stairs. 

The two waddled back and forth up the first flight before Julie stopped to rest. She took a few deep breaths before pushing on and making it through the last seven stairs to get to Y/N’s top-level room. She grabbed the knob and threw the wooden frame open. She moved quickly to get the girl to the bed and set her down carefully on it. 

Julie met her barely open eyes for a moment before leaning down to her legs. She unbuckled the huge black boots the girl wore and threw them to the side. She stood back up and stared down at the girl who was practically sleeping in front of her.

“Y/N, you’re ready for bed,” She tapped on the girl’s thigh to get her attention. “Crawl up into the covers.” 

The girl grunted, moving on her knees toward the headboard. Julie monitored her movements as she found the blankets and curled underneath them. Julie gave the room a once over before waving at Y/N, who was already snoring. She giggled to herself for a moment before turning toward the door. 

The next morning, Julie awoke to a knock on her window. She rubbed her eyes, pushing off her plushy red comforter to crawl off of her mattress. She made her way over to the window and stopped just short of it, staring at the bushy hair and tired eyes of the girl on the other end. She rubbed her eyes again, blinking twice to make sure her vision wasn’t tricking her.

“Y/N,” She whispered to herself, leaning forward to unlatch the window.

As soon as the open air hit her room, the girl came tumbling in. Julie suppressed a laugh as the tall girl fell to the floor with a bang. Y/N stood up quickly, dusting herself off and giving Julie a sheepish look.

“She’s never been graceful,” Julie said, as she crossed her arms at her chest. 

Y/N regained her balance and stood in front of Julie. She rolled her eyes at her smirk and leaned back to shut the window. As she girls met eyes again, the older one rubbed the back of her neck nervously. 

“I just...I wanted to stop by and apologize for last night.”

Julie rose an eyebrow in surprise, “Do you even know what happened last night?” 

“Ruben told me you brought me home, and-” She sighed before saying the last part. “There were videos of....my actions last night all over Snapchat.”

She clasped her hands together, staring at the ground for a moment. 

“I’m sorry you had to see that....again.” 

“It’s fine we’re not even-” 

“Friends, dating, whatever anymore, I know.” 

Julie bit back her next statement as she watched the girl’s nervous gaze meet hers again.

“I still want to apologize.” 

Julie rubbed her forehead in frustration, shaking her head at the girl.  

“I just, for one night I wish you could have fun without getting drunk or something and numbing out the whole night,” Y/N met her eyes and hers widened. “I just... I miss you Y/N, but seeing you like that, I...I can’t even think about even being your friend again.” 

“I know,” the girl said softly, fidgeting with her hands at her waist. “I miss you too. I...I wish I knew why I did the things I do too. My mom was right, you were the best influence on me.” 

“Shirly knows a thing or two,” Julie let a soft smile grace her lips as she watched the other girl’s nervous movements.

“She knew I didn’t deserve you.” 

A silence hung in the air as Julie’s eyes drifted over toward the corner of the room. Their breakup had been dramatic and brutal. There had been yelling and crying for over an hour. 

“You’re trying to control me,” Y/N hissed, pulling away from Julie’s grip.

“I’m trying to stop you from consistently poisoning yourself,” Julie bit back, fists balling at her sides. 

“You sound 85 years old, Jules. I’m just drinking with friends.”

“Every night? Y/N, no 17 year old should black out every Tuesday night for a month. It’s not healthy. You’re being stupidly irresponsible and I refuse to pick up the pieces again.”  

Y/N stared at her as Julie started to shake. Tears fell from the young girl’s eyes as she ran over to her bed and fell to the mattress in a curled ball. Y/N couldn’t stand looking at her so upset. She opened her mouth to say something, but retracted it last minute, walking out of the room. 

Even looking back at that moment sent shivers down Julie’s spine as she stood in front of the girl yet again. This time, Y/N was much calmer, sober and seemingly sincere. She took in her red eyes and her disheveled hair and tried not to walk up and run her fingers through it to fix it for her. Instead, she held her hands at her sides and waited for what the girl would say next.

“Julie, I know there’s nothing that I can say to make this better,” Y/N rubbed her hand against her cheek as she cocked her jaw. “But I want you to be proud of me again.” 

Those words shot through her system in a millasecond. She felt her heart physically pinch in her chest as she tried to take a breath out. She finally found the strength to shake her head.

“You should do this for you first, Y/N. Take care of yourself for you.” She took a step toward the girl, holding her hand out to her. Y/N hesitated, but grabbed it and intertwined their fingers. “It’s clear that you want out of this, or you wouldn’t be here telling me that.” 

Julie squeezed her palm, smiling up at her with wide eyes. 

“You deserve that, I promise.” 

Y/N let a small smile roll across her lips. “My biggest cheerleader, even when she hates my guts.” She brought Julie’s hand up to her lips and kissed the top of it quickly. 

“Thanks Jules.”

The girl let go of her hand and moved back toward the window. She unlatched the lock and pulled the glass open. As she stepped outside, she leaned back over and smiled at the girl who watched her leave. Julie’s curls fell to the left side as she tilted her head. A small grin plastered on her face as she gave Y/N a small wave. She nodded before disappearing out of sight, closing the window behind her. 

.

.

.

.

Tag list: @marinettepotterandplagg​​ @lukeys-giggle​​  @xplrreylo​​ @kiss-themoongoodbye​​ @bathtimejish​​  @bookfrog247​​  @dasexydevitt13​​ @musicconversedance​​ @txrii​​ @bestdressedandstressed​​ @daisiesforlacey​​ @epikskool​​  @themaddies-obx​​ @jukeobsessedgirl​​  @writerinlearning​​​ @dani27297 @whatever-happens-imma-stand-tall​

#julie molina #julie molina x reader #julie x reader #jatp #jatp imagines #julie and the phantoms imagines

[danganronpa-21]

Naegiri Week Day 4 - Rain

I can barely believe that it’s Day 4 already. Also that I’m on time for this one, because I didn’t think I was going to be. It’s a welcome surprise! This particular piece is much more of an angst/whump piece, but there’s still a bit of sweetness attached to it. 2020 is just the year of angsty Makoto, I guess! Anyway, I hope you like it! Feel free to let me know what you think.

Oh, and please keep in mind that this does contain some rather graphic depictions of death and violence. Be sure to play on the safe side if that’s not your thing. Thank you so much for your time and attention!

______________________________________

Makoto was about to shower for the first time in four years.

 Of course, that wasn’t to say that the man never bathed – quite the opposite, really. He tended to bathe rather frequently; it was just way he did it that changed the conversation. After all, taking baths was still apart of good hygiene. It was just widely regarded as less convenient to bathe that way. What was a man to do? There was something about standing under the showerhead, watching the water bead onto the tile and slowly roll away… Something about it just made his skin crawl.

 Well, perhaps it was wrong to say “something” when he was well aware of the cause. Four years since the School Life of Mutual Killing, and the image of her never left his mind. Sweet, beautiful Sayaka with a fractured wrist and a knife plunged into her stomach, blood pooling all over her belly and lap. Her eyes shut in a way that could not possibly have looked peaceful even if he wanted it to. Her last message to him written across the wall in disjoined letters – a final plea for him to try and survive. She’d signed her death warrant, yet she refused to sign off on his as well. Kyoko told him that he should take some comfort in that, but it was a comfort he could only half-hold. In truth, try as she might, there was nothing that Kyoko could tell him to take away that pain.

 That was why he was where he was, actually. Kyoko’s inability to remedy his pain. He’d been trying for ages now to counteract the thoughts and feelings associated with the shower, but none of his attempts bore fruit. Even Kyoko’s strategies, helpful as they usually were, did little to assist him. At this point, she could only hope to support him through his struggle. So, when he came to the decision to finally step foot in the shower once more, she did as she always did – supported him as best she could.

 Some would find it weird that a couple who had only recently started having sex would so readily strip down to nothingness and jump into the shower together, but neither he nor his wife found this to be a situation way out of their comfort zone. It wasn’t like the situation would be overtly sexual in any way, shape, or form. They would just be two people like any other, showering in each other’s presence. That was it.

 Still, Makoto wondered if perhaps it was pent-up awkwardness that made his hands tremble as he moved to lift his shirt off over his head, or if shower nerves were getting the best of him. He would always feel flustered at the sight of his wife completely undressed, but this felt like so much more. Within seconds he his throat started to dry up, and his heart picked up its pace. God, he wondered if this was a good idea. It had seemed like one at the time, but now he knew he had second thoughts.

 “Are you sure you want to do this?”

 It was like Kyoko sensed his anxiety without him having to lend his voice to it. It was almost funny that even after all that time together, he still found himself surprised by her ability to read him. She did still insist on referring to him as “Mr. Open Book”; she’d just also begun to refer to herself as “Mrs. Open Book”. Not that that was true, but he appreciated her joke about their marriage nonetheless. Her playfulness brought him respite.

 “Honestly… no,” he answered, pushing a hand through his hair, “I don’t know what’s going to happen if I do, but I don’t want to keep avoiding it like this.”

 Kyoko frowned. “What’s the problem with not showering? There’s nothing wrong with you only taking baths. Regardless, you still emerge cleaner than you were when you entered.”

 His shoulders rose and fell lazily; his eyes drifting towards the shower. The thing looked so innocent just sitting there, the glass pane cracked open ever so slightly to reveal the silver mechanisms inside. They looked so pristine and nice in there, glittering with a shine that proved how recently Kyoko cleaned the faucets and spout. The whole structure appeared so unintimidating; he felt foolish for even being frightened of it.

 “It’s a personal thing, I guess.”

 His wife’s arms crossed her chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

 Makoto gripped his arm tightly, his nails digging into the skin. He knew better than to grab at himself like that, but confessing to his pain was next to unbearable. Even talking about it threatened to send him spiralling. “Just that I think this is something I need to lay to rest. Not just for me, but for Maizono-san, too. I want her to be able to sleep peacefully…”

 Her expression softened like well-loved leather. “Always thinking of others, Makoto. You really are the kindest person I’ve ever met,” She murmured, reaching over to cup his cheek with her hand, “Still. Are you sure that this is how you can help her? Maizono-san wouldn’t want you to do anything that might cause you to hurt yourself.”

 “If there’s some other way to help her, I don’t know of it.” Makoto mumbled awkwardly, leaning his face into Kyoko’s hand. It was sort of strange feeling her hand on his face; without her gloves her hands seemed so much rougher than he was used to. Not that he minded any. In a way, he almost liked that Kyoko’s hands were like that. It made her touch easy to distinguish from everyone else’s, and made him a lot more comfortable knowing that she was right there at his side. The only situation in which he’d ever want her hands to change was if that was what she wanted. “I think this is the only way I can really go about it.”

 Kyoko nodded thoughtfully, a half-smile playing at her face. “If you’re certain. Still, I ask that you let me know if we need to put an end to it. You know I’ll be swift in putting an end to the exercise.”

 “Of course.”

 With that, the two separated once more, both of them moving to continue to do away with their clothing. It didn’t take them long to strip down to nothingness, feeling the cool autumn air hitting their bare skin. For both of their sakes, Makoto tried to make not too much unnecessary eye contact. Kyoko seemed to care much less about it.  When they were done, Kyoko took his hand, and guided him towards the shower. Sweat coated Makoto’s palms immediately as they made the venture forth to the silver beast; his body suddenly feeling much too cold for his liking. Part of him wanted to run over and snag his clothes, put them all back on, and tell her that he didn’t want to do this after all. It would certainly be a lot easier than confronting his fears. Still, could he really convince himself to give up on his task when he was this close? He should award himself more faith than that, after all. Like trying a new food, there was no sense in giving up before the flavour hit. As frightened as he was, he wanted to at least try to bear it.

 Unfortunately, his desire to soldier through didn’t stop his body from reacting to the stressors. He practically jumped out of his skin the moment Kyoko turned the faucet; he’d always hated the low rumbling the shower made when it roared to life. It had been a while since he was close enough to hear it, but now that he was… he was suddenly reminded of how awful it was.

 “Are you okay, Makoto?” Kyoko asked, turning her head back to look at him. Her face looked so innocent as she blinked at him, her brows knitting themselves together ever so slightly. Her obvious worry made his stomach twist. How could he be so determined to overcome his fear if it concerned the woman he loved so greatly?

 Attempting to swallow around the lump in his throat, Makoto nodded. “Just got a little surprised by the sound, that’s all… We’ve got to wait for it to warm up, right?”

 She bit her lip, taking one long look at his expression. Without even having to use her words or much expression, he could tell she didn’t believe him. “Yes. It should warm up fairly quickly, though. We’ll be able to step in soon.”

 “Good, good…”

 It was not good. Not that he was going to tell Kyoko that.

 Anxiety spun his head like a vinyl record; he fought to keep his belly from churning. God, he just wanted to get this over with. Be a hero, conquer his fears, and then curl up in bed with his wife and snuggle her until his limbs stopped shaking. Every passing second was agonizing. He honestly felt as if he could cry when she told him that the water was finally warm enough.

 “Do you want me to go in first?”

 “It would probably make me feel a bit better if you did… Just like… take me by the hand and guide me in, please.”

 She smiled at him as genuinely as she could manage, her worry still seeping through ever so slightly. “I can do that.”

 He breathed a silent prayer as Kyoko’s hand found his own, slowly guiding him towards the shower. He couldn’t stop himself from squeezing his eyes shut, letting himself be lured into the trap by his lover. The moment the water hit him, he let out a gasp. Desperate to stay grounded, he found himself squeezing Kyoko’s hand for dear life. She took such care to ensure that the shower rain wouldn’t be too hot, yet it scalded his skin as he tried to adjust to the feeling. He almost cried out the moment it collided with him. The sensation could be compared to freshly boiled water being poured down his spine.

 “Just breathe,” she spoke so softly he almost missed it, her hand rubbing against his back to try and comfort him, “It’ll be okay.”

 It’ll be okay, he repeated to himself. It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay.

 Adrenaline hit him in a crashing wave. It was as if a bubble had burst in his brain, soaking his entire being in paralyzing fear. Every part of his body suddenly seemed full of… something. What it was, he didn’t know. He only knew that he could feel it somewhere within himself, accompanied by a shooting pain somewhere in his chest. If he hadn’t known what the symptoms were like, he would have assumed that he was going to faint. This definitely wasn’t fainting, though. It was… something else entirely.

 All he could see was red. Red streaked on cold grey tile; the liquid having lost its warmth after spillage. A knife plunged into the depths of Sayaka’s belly, diving past her uniform and the protective layer of skin and muscle. How far did it pierce her stomach, one couldn’t help but wonder? How long was she in pain? Did she lay there bleeding out, praying that someone would come and rescue her? There were tear tracks on her face when they found her. She’d cried in pain. She’d sat there writhing in it, bleeding out – five minutes of bleeding out, Kyoko told him – with nobody to soothe her.

 He left her behind to die like that. He’d left her to die like that because he was too stupid to think about what she intended to do. If he’d stopped her, she’d still be alive. If he’d been smarter, or braver, or nicer, everything would have worked out for her. She’d have stood on Kyoko’s side at their wedding, hair curled and adorned in purple flowers. She would be positioned next to Aoi, looking absolutely beautiful in the soft material of her lavender dress. The gown would hug her curves in a way that would surely have made Leon talk, but she still wouldn’t be the most radiant woman in the room. He could picture the smile she’d give from where she was standing, silently wishing him a lifetime of happiness with the love of his life. She’d have been there. She’d have protected him from the harm of the shower’s rain, slicing through his skin like a blistering razor.

 “Makoto!”

 The image persisted behind his eyes, but the sound proved he could make out his own world. Sayaka’s death played on continuous loop like a movie; none of what was happening was real anymore. Water droplets having completed their race were not the same as Sayaka’s blood; there was no reason to see it as such. The grey tile had not been scrubbed white; it was the tile of his own home. The voice calling out to him was not his own frozen in a hellish scream; it was Kyoko’s. Shame seeped into his bones. Go away, he pleaded, I’m begging you to go away.

 Without any choice, his legs gave out, sending him falling to the floor. His knees would surely be bruised the next day.

 Kyoko didn’t kneel down to his level, not at first. Her hand instead went darting for the faucet, twisting it off as soon as she could. Only a twinge of relief washed over him as the pitiful rain dribbled to a stop, leaving him and Kyoko to bask in the new found silence. It made Makoto acutely aware of how sharp his breaths had become, with his body struggling to gather some sort of relief. He squeezed his eyes shut. Oh, how he prayed the darkness would swallow him whole to make this pain stop.

 He barely noticed when Kyoko knelt down on the floor, placing a gentle hand on his back. It wasn’t until her rough hand made contact against his skin… It wasn’t until that moment that he found himself anywhere close to okay. Oh god, he hoped she knew how much that meant. Even with his mind persisting at that image of Sayaka, the contact healed him like an EpiPen.

 “You’re experiencing a flashback, Makoto,” she murmured softly, tracing loops on his back. How could she sound so steady at a time like this? Jealousy at her coolness pricked him. What he wouldn’t give to experience it anywhere but between images of Sayaka, blood leaking from the side of her mouth.

 “Sayaka’s dead,” was all he could utter. No “help me”, no “hold me”, no “I need you to do this for me” … Just an admission that his dear friend was very much dead.

 “She died, but she didn’t die here. It was years ago, Makoto.” The circles she drew between his shoulder blades slowed down. She hoped for him to focus on the sense of touch. “You remember that, don’t you? And you remember that you didn’t have any control over what happened to her. She didn’t blame you for what happened.”

 He didn’t answer. Just kept staring aimlessly at the tile, wishing it would be the way he remembered it. The way it looked when Kyoko had just finished taking a shower. God, he’d have done anything to be able to breathe in the scent of her cherry blossom shampoo, rather than the vague stench of copper.

 “Do you feel my hand on your back, Makoto?”

 He licked his lips, blinking slowly. “I do.”

 “It’s rough, isn’t it?”

 “Very.” He muttered.

 “Just try to focus on that roughness as my finger moves. You can feel me there, can’t you?”

 “Yeah, I can.”

 “Good,” she outstretched her other hand so he could see it, her golden wedding band flickering at him, “Now look at the other. It’s kind of funny-looking, isn’t it?”

 “Like hamburger meat.” He murmured, not thinking about how that might insult her. His mind was too far into its loop to consider it. His body trembled as he tried to ground himself there on the tile; nausea prodding at him to have its way.

 To his surprise, Kyoko laughed. Not a full, hearty laugh like he could usually stir from her – but a laugh nonetheless. “I suppose it does sort of look like that. What I want you to focus on, though, is the colours. How many different colours can you pick out when you look at my hands? Remember, undertones count too.”

 His eyes wandered across her hand, observing it carefully. Naturally, red was the first colour that came to his mind. Red like blood, red like fire, red like a poisonous animal. The red on Kyoko’s hand was an inky layer sandwiched between lighter and darker hues, skirting about midway along her palm, it danced so close to her knuckles. From there, the colours faded into a deeper crimson, then to a brown, until finally they reached a blackened shade at the tips of her fingers. It was only below the streak of red that he could see pink, like apple snail eggs. So close to being warm and rosy, but a sign of damage nevertheless.

 “There’s… red, and brown, and pink… black, crimson…”

 “Crimson? It sounds like you’re getting a little excited with your colour comparisons there. Good for you. Just keep listing the ones that come to mind.”

 “Um… I guess there’s a bit of umber in there… maybe some charcoal?”

 She nodded. “Good. Now, do you know what day it is?”

 Makoto blinked once. Twice. Three times. His breaths still felt much too laborious, but in a way, he felt like things were almost getting clearer. Like he’d been freed from suffocation in ash. “It’s… the tenth of September, right? Autumn?”

 The circles continued as she cracked a small smile. “Good, good. Now can you rub your hands together for me? I want to get you a towel to dry off with. It will keep you warm while I do.”

 Once again, he didn’t answer. He didn’t even look at her, just nodded and started rubbing his hands together for friction. He couldn’t bring his eyes to follow her as she pushed herself to her feet and strode out of the shower, tugging his fluffy white towel off the rack. Focus rested on the heat generating between his hands, he almost didn’t notice when she returned and draped it over his shoulders. His movement screeched to a halt the moment it connected with his body; god was it a soft towel. Taking hold of both corners, he pulled it over himself as much as he could manage. They definitely needed to keep buying whatever fabric softener they were currently using.

 Kyoko slowly lowered herself to sit at his side once more, returning her hand to the same position it had been on his back. It was true to say that he could no longer enjoy her rough skin against his own, but the pressure of her presence still made him a bit renewed.

 “Are you okay, Makoto?” Though he couldn’t find the energy to meet her face, the concern coated her voice. It wasn’t difficult to picture her lowered brows; her mouth curved into a hesitant grin in hopes of offering solace.

 His shoulders quirked, and he leaned himself into her. By now she must have known how badly he needed her; he figured she wouldn’t mind if he cuddled up. Touch always rejuvenated him when he grew melancholic or distressed. Hers, especially, brought him a comfort unlike any other. “Honestly… no. I’m not.”

 Kyoko scooted closer to him, and pushed his head so that it would rest on his shoulder. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

 “No,” the answer came much faster than expected, “Not right now, anyway.”

 “That’s fine. I don’t expect you to be okay. We can talk whenever you would like,” she paused for but a moment, carefully scrutinizing his face, “Is there anything I can do?”

 “I don’t think so.”

 He could tell she was frowning now. “That’s a shame.”

 Makoto quirked his shoulders once more. “It’s okay. You’re already doing everything you can, and I appreciate that. All I really need right now is your company.”

 Cautiously turning her head towards his, she pressed a kiss against his head. Her hand rested on the top of it, stroking his hair ever so gently. A miniscule happiness swelled within him at the sensation. He was a lucky man, who had a woman who cared about him so much. “I think I can manage that.”

 Though it was hard, he did everything he could to push a smile. It must have been awfully weak, but he hoped she could appreciate it nonetheless. “Thank you, Kyoko… I love you.”

 “I love you, too. And I’m here for you anytime.”

 “Shower or no shower?” He joked, chuckling half-heartedly.

 “Shower or no shower. I’ll love you, always.”

#naegiri2020 #danganronpa #naegiri #danganronpa 3 #kyoko kirigiri #makoto naegi #makoto x kyoko #naegi x kirigiri #kyouko kirigiri #naegi makoto #kirigiri kyoko

[pyrrhesia]

FF14Write - ‘Oneirophrenia’

In which words fail Ysabet Sable.

A direct follow-up on Day 12.

Hlessi borrowed from @nerdlordholocron.

Ysabet hadn't slept. She'd slipped into unconsciousness. Then she'd passed out. After a time, she'd laid down and closed her eyes. But she had not slept. Kleskizhae and the rest had carried her back to Fanow, and on her own initiative she'd have stayed there. But instead, she'd been too weak to protest; she had to return to the Crystarium, under observation. She hadn't been back since her arrival, instead failing to get into Eulmore - well, little loss, now they knew the place - before seeking out the Greatwood. There had been celebrations, of course. Another night sky. Another tribute to the heroes of the hour. When she'd first arrived at the city, she'd had the overwhelming feeling of a people simply waiting for death. No drive, no ambition... no future, in the face of the overwhelming dawn. Now, they had some hope. People in the streets smiled at her. But always people were watching her back, watching to see if she'd turn... and she'd be doing the same in their shoes. They had a room for her at the Pendants; apparently it had been left empty for her since her arrival. She excused herself early from the festivities to retreat there. At least here she could establish some kind of order. The first priority, a long bath. She buckled herself out of her beaten armour, allowed herself to soak, staring at the ceiling, listening to the fireworks outside. Eventually, reluctantly, she heaved herself out, slipped into a simple red shift - not at all her colour, but it was what had been left for her - took her journal from her satchel and sat down to write. Of course, it was no mere journal. She liked to consider it her little slice of living history. A beautiful, heavy, leather-bound tome, one she had every intention of bringing back home with her - should she ever make it back home. No matter what happened in her travels, no matter how surreal, its presence in the journal in cold, black ink somehow made it... real. She'd left it at their departure from Fanow to the Ravel, and dipped her quill in ink. Where to pick it up, where to... She wrote of the battered majesty of lost Ronka, of the wisdom contained within. At the best of times, Ysabet's boundless curiosity lead to long-winded diatribes about whatever struck her fancy. Her account of the assault on the primal, Bismarck, lasted three pages, preceded by fifty-eight of Vanu Vanu culture and internal politics. She'd devoted sixteen pages to recounting a single exchange with the dragon Tiamat, and neglected to mention Azys Lla itself. The bulk of what she'd written had concerned Ronka; writing about its crown jewel came naturally to her. Why they were there, and what they saw at the end, however... well, she had to get to it eventually. Our quarry, the Lightwarden 'Eros', stood guard at the end. It proved a ... Ysabet frowned. Her quill hovered over the page, a careless drip of ink spotting the page. How to possibly put into words what had happened? There was a finality to ink. She refused to lie, but could certainly curate the truth. ... puissant adversary. That much was true. And, well, they had won... Yet none of the Lightwardens had proven an insurmountable obstacle, and so ... She dithered once again. What could she write? What more could she possibly write? What words could she use to convey her own fear, the carrion-smell of the thing's mouth, the way it had slavered light? The way its energy had crept into her, the... the things she'd seen? ... the beast was slain. She snapped the book shut, rose, took six sharp steps to her bed and threw herself onto it.

Yet she did not sleep. It wasn't for want of trying, or of exhaustion. Perhaps the night sky was throwing her off after well over a year under an ever-bright sun? Ysabet tried every conceivable remedy. She threw open the balcony and stared at the stars, trying to match them to the constellations of home, writing five pages of frenzied observations about the similarities and differences. She put herself through a difficult exercise routine, to immediate regret. She drank two cups of mulled wine. She pulled her blanket over her head. She screamed into the pillow. Eventually, she gave up, wandering out of her room to loiter by the stairwell. For a moment, she even thought she was alone. "Can't sleep?" Ysabet glanced over to her left, too tired to feel surprise. Hlessi was there. One of precious few viera she'd known back in Eorzea, a towering, raw-boned figure who always gave the disconcerting impression she was looking straight through you. Ysabet had always... liked Hlessi. Actually, her guilty conscience reminded her, she'd felt rather more than that. After all, one of the bodies weaving at her own feet had been-- "No, I can't," she said abruptly, to try and cut off her own train of thought. "I'm not used to the night, anymore." Hlessi cocked her head. "It's just that?" "Yes," she said, automatically taking the out, before checking herself. "No. I mean-- I'm sorry. It's more than that." Hlessi waited patiently for Ysabet to continue, blinking up at her. Ysabet took a long, seething breath through her teeth. "I know I came close to... to turning, at the Ravel." "You saw something, didn't you?" "More than something. I saw myself. Or... parts of me. Desires." Ysabet remembered the figures again. Overcome by shame, she looked away, out one of the windows. "The light wanted me to give in. Cast aside whatever's keeping me from becoming... from just acting on every thought I've ever had, everything I've ever wanted. It knew what I wanted." She heard footsteps drawing closer. "You didn't give in, though. And whatever ugliness you saw, you haven't acted on. It's no crime to think things. I am sure any of us would have faced the same trial." "But it wasn't any of us," said Ysabet sourly. "It was me." And it was her because she was strong, she was powerful enough to stand in the way of the beast, to land the decisive blow. Because she was bold enough to take the chance, and how did the rest of them treat her? Some trace of marble squeezed at her heart, choked her throat, as she let out a ragged, rasping breath, turned back towards Hlessi, white mist beginning to descend-- Her legs buckled beneath her, and she tried to brace herself on the bannister, muttering a string of viera curses. No, no, that wasn't right, she was... she was here, she reminded herself. She was gripping the banister so hard her knuckles were white, she was in the Pendants, she really needed sleep and now her hip hurt like hell. Still Hlessi watched. "I can see you're fighting it." "It's subsiding," Ysabet forced out. "I know-- I know it won't turn me, the danger's passed. But... ahh, the thoughts are at the surface, now. I can't un-think them. I can't un-know that I'm thinking them, either, no matter how much I hate that I am, does..." She realised she was just stammering nonsense. "I've seen the ugliest parts of myself, and they almost took control of me. Does that make any sense at all?" she asked Hlessi, desperately. Somehow, the leaner viera had a smile to offer. "I know you aren't what you saw. If you, Ysabet, see your worst aspects as ugly, if you fight back against them... well, that proves you're more than that, doesn't it? You did not give in, and that matters. You're choosing to be better, and that matters. Perhaps you could be a better person, but you want to be. That matters, too." She took another step closer. "You learned something more about yourself. Perhaps it wasn't what you hoped, but you've never been afraid of truth. Even if you aren't at your best, tonight. How could you be? How could anyone?" Ysabet's head was running on fumes. Hazily, she connected dots as best as she could, and by the time she'd figured out they just about mapped a path out of spiralling into madness, Hlessi had already closed the distance and pressed her tight in a hug. Ysabet slumped forward into it, gratefully, draping both hands around Hlessi's slender back. Her eyes closed, and her breath slowed, and slowed, and slowed... In time, she found her way to a dreamless sleep.

#FFxivWrite2021 #oneirophrenia #oc: ysabet sable #this is a little stream of consciousnessy #which feels apt even if it's not the technically most crisp

[jafndaegur]

Noise of Rain | Chapter 1

Sesskag

Endless Forlorness Made me Numb

A/N: so @fandomplethora and I were talking about Mo Dao Zu Shi AUs. And I was like "nooo, I'm not gonna work on my Sesskag version. I have too many WIPs already". You know, like a liar. So here's my MDZS au for Sesskag🤣 it happens during the course of the canon-timeline, I guess before Final Act. Sooo yeah. I hope you enjoy whatever the hell this is🤣🤣🤣

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

Kagome watched with pursed lips as the last of the sun set over the horizon. Gilded rays fluttered over the earth, streaming across the trees and grass like rivers of fire. Warm. Beautifully and utterly warm. The dying sunlight drenched her skin, and she tilted her head back—trying to drink in it's comfort. 

Trying to ignore the pressing cold digging its way into the edges of her senses.

Sunset's birth left a wake open for the creatures she'd come to dislike and maybe even hate. Soon she knew the faint pale wisps of the Soul Stealers would come into view. They would approach but never broach, as if taunting the unspoken agreement of distance. Time and time again, they teased the limits, dancing along the edge of her sights until she spun around. In the back of her mind she wondered if it would be worth it to just fork her spirit over to Kikyo. The undead priestess deserved a life, free from trickery or deceit. Something pure—

Only caught by the ascended.

After all, before her egregious turn to...what Kagome liked to think of as the emo rebellious phase, Kikyo had been rather fair and just. The death dealt to her an unfair blow by fate into the hands of a psycho spider demon.

But as the thought began to teeter close to the cusp of action, Sango's voice called her from their campsite and the idea dissipated.

Still. 

That darkened patch in the back of her mind, the one that hid behind bright smiles and dazzling sapphire eyes, pulsed. It reached out and brushed against her reiki, causing the edges to crumble to dust, unreplenished. Not that Kagome knew.

It wasn't as if anyone were helping her cultivate her priestess powers. So if she felt a bit more fatigued or a little more drained, she blamed it on the fact that Inuyasha was nowhere to be seen in the camp. Although she hadn't expected to see him. With the Soul Stealers in close proximity, they always chimed his cue to leave.

The passing scenery is going to collapse—

Cold wrapped her mind and complete midnight gripped her reiki. She cried out for help but no one could hear. 

They didn't need her. Just a jewel-shard detector.  They didn't want her. Just a lesser reincarnation.

—along the obsequious side.

"Oi, Kagome," Inuyasha's voice drew her from her sleep-deprived autopilot. "Can't you pick up the pace?"

Her brow twitched and she tried to find a good reason to not "Sit" him then and there. But her chest heaved and the exhaustion washed over her, and she acquiesced. Today was neither the time nor the place. As their group moved forward in the direction of the next Shikon jewel piece when the hanyou had picked up scents of Sesshomaru traveling their direction. In a bout of stubbornness, he refused to change course. Insistent that if his half-brother wanted to fight, then he wouldn't shy away.

Kagome's brow rose as Sesshomaru’s own little group met up with theirs. 

Rin perched happily on Ah-Un's back, Jaken in tow, and the proud daiyoukai at the front—the little quartet brushed passed them as if they weren't there. Other than the pleasant wave and hello Rin shouted in their direction, it was almost like they didn't exist.

Almost.

As they continued on, Kagome shivered as the sensation of Sesshomaru’s youki swept over them. It probed with an innocent inquisition that was disarming. She wondered why he was searching to change the hidden. But in the moment that she detected his power, it eased away and left them.

"What an asshole, he probably just came around to show-off," Inuyasha huffed.

Kagome wondered if that was the case. The full youkai had been searching for something. But what? 

She felt herself going to the dark spot in her mind, wondering if she took hold of it and reached out—would Sesshomaru’s presence return? Was this darkness, this strange thing, was this what he looked for? Kagome felt half inclined to try. She wanted him to turn around.

To notice that she felt…

Miroku called out that he noticed a dark aura from the north, something suspicious and chilling.

Kagome sighed and supposed that it didn't matter how she felt. Hitching her backpack onto her shoulders, she closed her eyes and sifted for that familiar feeling of the sacred jewel. While she wasn't sure, something stirred her heart in the direction the monk had pointed to. 

With a triumph smile, she hopped up to the front next to the half-demon. "I'm not 100% sure, but I think there's a shard in that direction."

That pleased Inuyasha enough. "Alright! Let's get a move on then."

They made camp a couple miles out from wherever they were headed next. A heavy dread had covered the little campsite, the nearby evil seeping close enough to have everyone on edge. Inuyasha and Miroku both kept a vigilant watch neither one comfortable to rest. Sango helped keep Shippo and Kirara calm enough to doze into a restless sleep. Kagome stared off into the distance. The Soul Stealers were in the opposite direction of the unholy aura; wandering, looking.

But unlike the previous night where they had toyed with the notion of trying to take her spirit again, their movements differed. Unorganized and haphazard—the ghostly creatures meandered in confusion.

Heart pounding against her chest, Kagome couldn't help the small smile wiggling its way onto her face. In her mind's eye, she cupped the darkness more. After all, it had swallowed her reiki whole, hiding it from even Miroku's detection.

It protected the treasure by throwing away the guidance everyone depended on.

The middle of the night sung out to her and she awoke on a cold sweat. Someone was crying. But everyone had fallen asleep. Miroku and Inuyasha seemed fitfully sleeping at best, while Sango and Shippo curled in for warmth against Kirara's warm side. The fire-cat however, glanced at her with worried large eyes. 

Kagome hoisted the holy bow and arrows onto her shoulder. She gave an appeasing pet the demon's nose.

"Don't worry, I'm just going to investigate," she murmured gently. "Something's off. And I want to make sure we don't walk into a trap later."

Kirara gave a low growl but she did not move otherwise.

Kagome smiled and snuck forward. The morning had yet to start, so the air felt frigid and moist. Dew just barely started to accumulate on dark forest and heavy grass. Pushing her way through the underbrush, the inner compass in her chest pointed the direction she needed. Not to mention the voice she'd heard began to cry louder. Words still weren't quite comprehensible but the sentiment was there.

The forest started to scar away, replaced by shale and growing rigid crags. Heavy mist permeated the area more. Kagome drew her bow and crouched low, still persisting. The crying started to take on a form.

 Noise of rain. It wept. Noise of rain your footsteps cry.

And suddenly just like that, Kagome spun around, arrow ready to shoot. Naturally,  Naraku stood behind her—his arms behind his back, his face pensive.

"Kagome," he greeted, voice heavy and hesitate.

Her brow cocked. "Naraku. What do you want?"

Noise of rain—

"What are you doing here so far from your watchdog?" He asked, still nothing but curiosity and even perplexity radiating off of him. 

—your footsteps cry.

"Something called me," she whispered.

The spider hanyou's crimson eyes narrowed and he walked away. "Follow me."

As they trekked, the mist began to seep with a type of miasma, but for some reason... It didn't hurt her. Shady, inky tendrils looped slow through the air as they trudged upwards, following the rise of the mountains.

"I found this place, yet it confounds even me." Naraku drawled, dark hair wavering. "There is some type of life. But it refuses to interact."

"Can you blame it?" Kagome bit back.

He chuckled darkly.

They reached the peak. 

Below them an infinite spiral of darkness. Except this time not one voice cried out to her. They all whispered and unfurled. They all heard her. 

They reached for her.

"What's down there?" She murmured. 

"As far as I can tell, these are burial mounds." Naraku hummed. "Any one place you dig, there are bound to be bones."

The darkness over her reiki swelled. Kagome trembled.

"The miasma here is not my doing," Naraku continued. "It's not poisonous. Just resentful. It's quite the odd place."

She reached out her hand and the voices smiled. "You are wanted here. Please help us here. This is the end of all lies."

"I don't think it's resentful," she whispered. 

"Interesting theory," Naraku's voice curved and drawled. "Would you like to test that?"

Before she could ask what he meant, his foot collided into her back. She screamed as her body tottered over the edge. Loafers slipped, hands grasped air, and her body tumbled into the abyss' embrace.

Weak and limp she couldn't move her limbs. Every fiber, every bone, everything must have shattered at the impact's drop. Her lungs heaved painfully. The voices giggled and suddenly they were no longer begging but controlling. They grabbed at her, trying to tear her apart and reach for the reiki within her soul.

Yet that darkness from earlier, the darkness that had appeared one day and started to grow the next…

She imagined Inuyasha looking mournfully around his surroundings, wondering where she abandoned him—just like his first lover...

Her mother and brother called out for her endlessly. Their worried tones climbing and climbing but never finding the ears they wanted…

Sesshomaru’s youki poked and prodded, searching, searching, searching for her…

Her darkness consumed every part of her reiki, like a wildfire over a bonfire, it ignited a flash that had her toes digging into the ground and her will sending her to stand.

Her aura spread and she clenched her jaw, commanding the voices to quiet.

#sesskag #sesshomaru x kagome #sesshomaru #kagome higurashi #multichapter #au: mo dao zu shi #in case you guys were wondering the song is NoiseofRain sung by Takanori Nishikawa

[alolanrain]

Much to popular disbelief, Ash is actually pretty keen on catching romantic and platonic social ques. He just doesn’t act on the romantic ones. And how could he with what kind of platonic and romantic love has surrounded him since he was so young.

Ash watched his father promise him, a fake promise Ash refuses to believe that was actually fake for an embarrassing amount of time, that he would be back on Ash’s Fifth birthday. He doesn’t show up and after the next two weeks his mom opens a packet with giant letters of “Divorce Papers” written ages the top. He watched his mom try not to cry and sob and Ash was shooed out of the kitchen by her and forced to go to his room. It didn’t really matter, his father was never really close with Ash anyways.

Ash never met Gary’s parents, but they weren’t good ones from what Daisy would accidentally slip out when they were much younger. He watched as Daisy was distant with Professor Oak and how the Professor wouldn’t really give Gary the time of day unless Gary accidentally did something bad.

He had to watch his budding brother hood with Gary rot and withered away because Professor Oak had always preferred and loved Ash more. Ash wanted to reach out and tell him, to tell Gary that he never wanted the Professors attention if it ment he didn’t have Gary by his side. But he couldn’t and he had to watch his ex-beat friend grow even more bitter and lash out harder at everyone around him. Forcing his ego to inflate to hide the pain. Ash cried when Gary came up to him after the Johto conference, he couldn’t help himself as he blubbered because he misses Gary so much. He just didn’t know how to put his platonic love into words that wouldn’t have Gary throwing them back into Ash’s face with scorn and amplified hatred.

Ash listens and watch as Misty complains over and over again how horrible her sisters are and how they all left her to take over the gym by herself. A bunch of eighteen year olds dumping a gun on a man inexperienced sisters year old. Let alone left her to survive on herself as well with no way to pay off any kind of taxes or to pay for necessities like food and bath room supplies. Even her parents refuse to help and Ash couldn’t stomach the thought of ever hating his mother like Misty and Brock do to theirs.

Ash did the same for Brock when the rare scathing comment about his parents would slip out. Unnoticed by Misty since her own parents. Chronic dream chasers that left Brock, also a sixteen year old, to care for his nine younger siblings alone while also running a gym to boot. Ash stays quite about his own parental troubles, he’s long gone over his father and tries to focus on the more uplifting parts in his life. He also watches Brock fall for every, much older, pretty lady. Nurse Joy, Officer Jenny, any citizen, Etc. He chews his lips and keeps quite. Wondering if this is love for men and how Ash as the briefest second though about his transitioning, it’s over before it could really manifest in his brain. Ash also doesn’t know what happened between Professor Ivy and Brock, but it was bad and both of them still can’t be in the same room together. Let alone face and talk to each other.

Ritchie was a bit different. He was kicked out for being trans. Ash couldn’t help but feel his own binder become extremely more tight. He’s thankful for his mothers hard work and the Oaks slipping him extra money on his birthday to start transitioning early. Ritchies parents are mean and down right cruel from what the same age boy as Ash says. Ritchies so much like Ash, to much like Ash, and he can’t help but wonder if their half brothers from the same bastards. Ash wouldn’t shove the theory out of his head and it hides in the back of his mind even to this day.

Ash watches May and Max’s parents interact. He wonders if this was what Moms relationship was before Aah was born. Then he sees the clear miscommunication between the two about the Butterfries and Ash feels sorrow for Max and May because it looks to rehearsed that it just had to happen more than once.

He watches Steven Stone and Wallace, the only real semi healthy relationship Ash had ever been exposed to if Aah was honest to himself. Though their relationship is still strained between both’s different works of fields.

He sees Barry and his father, how the man just brushes the blonde boy off to the side. Ash doesn’t know whether to feel sorry or pity for the boy.

Paul and Reggie are worse. He sees Paul’s hatred and anger and he looks over and sees Reggies desperate attempts of at least trying to build a bridge to his brother. Ash wishes someone would do that for him that seriously wounded Ash without Ash being the problem, but it always ends up with Ash having to apologize, he can’t help but feel a leats a bit jealous of Reggie and Paul but he doesn’t voice his thoughts and leaves when the shouting gets to be just a tad to much.

Ash watches as Trip slowly spirals down. He tries to help, tries to be friendly. But Ash is pushed to the side and snarled down like he’s the problem that keeps following Trip like a black raining over cloud.

He meets Alder and his Grandson Benga. He’s never heard a peep about a mother or a Grandma form both men. He watches as Alder flirts with Cynthia even though the women keeps pushing the Unovian man advances off over and over again.

Ash listens to Cilans brothers berate the youngest triplet and for them to even do it over private phone calls for over two weeks before As stepped in and told them to fuck off. Cilan’s shoulders had sunk to the ground in relief and Ash had to comfort the green haired teen as he started to cry that someone finally stepped in and pushed back against the twos verbal abuse and taunting. Ash almost throws up. He should have stepped in sooner.

He sees Iris’s relationship with Drayden and he wants to reach out and comfort the girl who obviously try’s her best to at least get a prais out of the quite and hard man. Ash has rarely prayed for something to harm someone. Ash sits by the edge of his bed when Cilan and Iris are asleep and he prays for the first time in a very, very long time. 

Ash watches as Clemont acts like a brother and a mother towards Bonnie. The girl oh so clueless to what stress Clemont is in every time her life is on the line.

He sees Alain, Lysander, and Professor Sycamore play hot truama between the three. How Lysander sounded to slick and evil like the last uncountable group of bad guys Ash faces off in his life. Ash sees Alains and Professor Sycamores past relationship that is rotting and turning to Ash before the Professors eyes. It reminds him to much like Gary and Professor Oak that Ash turns around from trying to say hello to Alain to going to the nearest bathroom to hurl his early dinner the league provided. Ash pushes Alain away from Mairin, and Pushes the girl over to Bonnie and Serena who are more than welcome into dragging the girl into a group hug, and over into the Professors arms. He refuses to let their relationship suffer any longer.

He sees Champion Dianthas obvious despair and the tears that are on the top of her eyes that threaten to fall for hours on end during the war. He sees her actual cry into Wulfrics shoulder for five minuets before straightening up and slipping back into her old calm and composed features.

Ash sees how Lillies mother is distant and how she disregards almost everything Lillie says to her, or try’s to down play Lillies feelings at every corner. It’s vile and sickening how Lillie doesn’t see how toxic it is, how Toxic her relationship is between her mother and workers-damn even her own brother! Ash wants to snarl and spit of Hladion the first time they meet but he holds himself back and acts polite and amazed because Lillie is happy that her brother is back. Ash tears into him once Lusamine comes back from the Ultra Wormhole when Gladion was trying to leave again. Leave Lillie to care for her mother alone and abandoned his family once again. Because that’s what Gladion had done. No matter what light the blonde tries to put it, Gladion had abandoned his sister when she needed him the most. Left it up to her friends to shoulder the brunt with just; “oh this is Lillie, she can’t touch Pokémon.” Without knowing why and how that came to be.

Ash sees Hau and how he hates being around his dad. Only ever acknowledged the mans existence if someone brought him up or when he’s explaining how he’s now living back on the islands indefinitely until further notice. Ash had never seen the man in his life and he bluntly states that Ash would have no qualms with fist fighting Hau’s dad if Hau ever wanted to. He gets Hau to laugh bright and loud. They never touch the topic of mothers but he sees Hau tense for when it nears Mother’s Day and how he hides his sneer at anything Morher Days related.

Ash sees the easy going relationship between Professor Kukui and Lrofessor Burnet and for once in his life, it feels like Ash can truly breath. He finally gets to experience someone’s love and warmth unconditionally without any toxic backlash. He gets to experience what it feels like to have a dad, not just a father, in his life and what a functional family is supposed to be.

Ash sees the toxic relationship between Rose, Oleana, and Leon. Sees how the chairman strains Leon and works him down to the bone. How Hop loves his brother unconditionally but Ash can see the hurt and backlash hidden deep in Hops golden eyes. Ash sees how Rose barely gives Bede the time of day but the white haired child defends all of Rose’s actions with the last of his breath. Ash hears Oleana story and Ash wants to scream how toxic the chairmen is but he knows no one would listen to anything from an outsider. So Ash holds his tongue and watches the rot spread and infect the entire league one trainer by one.

Ash try’s to love unconditionally, just how his heart is supposed to love everything and everyone around him, but he’s scared. Scared that everything he’s seen between everyone would happen to him as well. He wants something like Professor Burnet and Professor Kukui has, but his heart freezes and his throat ties itself into one of those hard Boy Scout knots.

Ash loves, oh does Ash love, but he loves from afar. To afraid to step closer and try something new.

#wolfy writes #ash ketchum #delia oak #gary oak #daisy oak #professor oak #misty #brock #ritchie #may #max #gyn leader norman #steven stone #champion wallace #paul #reggie #barry #trip #champion alder #champion cynthia #cilan #iris #gym leader drayden #gym leader clemont #bonnie #alain #professor sycamore #champion diantha #lillie

[ragingbookdragon]

Earning Trust Doesn’t Come Without Its Struggles PT. 5

An Adrian Tepes (Alucard) x Reader Story!

Warnings: Explicit Language, Mentions of Death Author’s Note: I plan on finishing this in two more parts! I hope you’re enjoying it! Enjoy! -Thorne

A thumping roused her from sleep, and she rolled over, mumbling, “Cezar…lay down…go outside…later…” She burrowed her face into the pillow, pulling the covers over her shoulders as the thumping sounded again. Her face pinched and she grunted as her mind began to clear from sleep. “Cezar…go lay down…it’s not time to get up yet.” For a moment, silence enveloped the room and she relaxed, haziness clouding over, then a scream pierced the air. (Y/N) shot up in her bed, eyes wildly darting around as she tried to comprehend what was happening. Cezar sat alert beside her, and she reached down, patting his head. “It’s okay boy.” She climbed out of the bed and pulled on the long coat, covering the nightshirt she wore. Slipping through the door, she looked around before making her way to the spiral staircase, beginning to climb it.

Another scream sounded as she reached the top and she sprinted to Adrian’s door, pounding on it. “Adrian! Adrian open the door!” When the door didn’t open, (Y/N) grunted, curling the handle herself. She stepped into the room, zeroing in immediately on the vampire that had tangled himself in his sheets as he thrashed around. She strode to his bedside and reached over, gently grasping his shoulder as she murmured, “Adrian, wake up. You’re having a nightmare.” His body jerked under her grasp and she frowned as she climbed onto the side, grabbing hold of his other shoulder; this time she shook him firmer, commanding, “Wake up Adrian! You’re having-” In an instance, their positions were flipped and (Y/N) found herself on her back as she stared up at the wild-eyed vampire. His hand was inches from her jugular, and she could feel his nails pricking her skin. She hadn’t been scared of the vampire since that night in the Hold, but now, trepidation crawled under her skin and she softly assured, “Adrian, it’s alright…nothing’s going to hurt you…it was just a bad dream.” She stared into his eyes, no longer the sunset gold she’d gotten used to, but a crimson, full of fear. He looked down at her, hissing,

           “They’re all the same. They did this.” (Y/N) wanted to shake her head but the nails against her throat stopped her and despite the pounding in her chest, she kept her voice calm.

           “I know they did Adrian. And they paid the price for it. But you need to understand that they can’t hurt you anymore.” He leaned down.

           “You’re one of them.” The words made her heart hurt and she replied,

           “I’m a human Adrian, but I’m not going to hurt you. You’ve gotta trust me on that.” His nails moved closer, and she felt the burn as they pressed into her.

           “In the end, you’re all the same.” Believing that she was about to meet her end, (Y/N) gripped his hand tightly and challenged,

           “If killing me will satiate your fears, then do it. But you sure as hell better do it as yourself.” Adrian blinked at her as if he was finally waking up, and she watched as he did it again, the red dissipating as the gold returned, then he went shifted, falling back onto his ankles as he went slack. (Y/N) slowly sat up, reaching up to rub her neck. Feeling a wet warmth, she pulled her fingers away to see a bit of blood coating the tips of her fingers; a choked noise caught her attention, and she looked up, seeing Adrian staring at her with a horrified expression as he apologized.

           “I’m-I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean-” She shook her head, bringing up the end of her coat to press against her wound.

           “Don’t worry about it. It’s just a scratch.” He shook his head, dropping his gaze to his fingers.

           “I thought I was dreaming.” (Y/N) nodded.

           “Yes, that’s usually what happens when you’re having a nightmare.” She looked back up at him and offered a smile. “Hey,” Adrian met her eyes and she assured, “I’m alright Adrian. It was just an accident.” His eyebrows furrowed, and he didn’t speak, so she asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

           “No…no I don’t.” (Y/N) nodded and rose from the bed, holding out her hand.

“I don’t think you’re going back to sleep any time soon. Come with me.” Adrian’s eyes flitted to her hand, but he didn’t take it, too afraid to hurt her again, and she smiled. “It’s okay Adrian. Take my hand.” Finally, he laid his palm in her hand and she curled her fingers around his large hand, squeezing carefully. He allowed her to lead him down the stairs to the bathroom where she gestured for him to sit on the stool. He did so and she walked behind him, gently combing the knots from his hair with her fingers. When it was smooth, she braided the golden tresses, resting it between his shoulder blades as she moved, wringing a rag from the sink. (Y/N) pressed it against his forehead, dabbing at the cold sweat he’d run during his nightmare. She could feel his eyes on her as she moved it to his cheeks and neck, and he muttered,

           “I’m too old to have bad dreams.” She glanced at him, offering a sad smile as she countered,

           “Whether we’re human or vampire or some other breed, it’s been observed that different species have dreams. It happens to us all, Adrian.” (Y/N) placed the rag on the counter and looked at him. “Since I’m too awake to go back to sleep, would you like to help me in the observatory?” Adrian nodded his head and she smiled, tipping her head. “Well let’s go then.”

           Their steps were quiet as they entered the observatory, and they sat side by side at the table. (Y/N) handed him a piece of parchment before looking at the alembic saying, “Do me a favor and read me the list of ingredients, please.” He took the paper from her, champagne eyes darting across the page, then he asked,

           “Did you have a spasm as you were writing this?” Her head twisted as she glanced at him.

           “Excuse me?” Adrian showed her the paper.

           “I have no idea what this says.” Offended, (Y/N) snatched the paper from him, griping,

           “Give me that. I’ll tell you what it says.” She scanned the page then fell silent, and that was all it took for the vampire to smirk and quip,

           “Can’t even read your own handwriting, can you, Miss Alchemist?” She scrunched her nose and mumbled,

           “My handwriting isn’t that bad.” Adrian snorted, retorting,

           “Oh yes, it is. I’ve never seen handwriting that deplorable.” (Y/N) felt her eye twitch and she slammed the parchment down, sliding over the ink and quill.

           “Alright wise-ass. Show me your handwriting.” He offered her a full-toothed grin, taking the quill in his right hand. She watched as he dipped it in the ink before writing a few words across the sheet, then slid it back over. (Y/N) drew her eyes over his words, reading, “‘Compare my writing to yours.’” She gave him an unimpressed look and pouted, “Oh piss off.” He chuckled as she motioned to them. “It’s not fair that your handwriting is so elegant!” She threw her hands in the air complaining, “Everything I’ve seen you do in the past three weeks is elegant! It’s like I’m a peasant sitting next to a prince! I have been offended!” Adrian continued to chuckle at her protests, and the sight of the usually stoic vampire covering his mouth as he laughed made her laugh too. When they finally calmed, she admitted, “My handwriting really is shit, isn’t it?” He nodded and she sighed, flipping the sheet over. “Alright then. Looks like I’m gonna have to redo the recipe.” (Y/N) opened a book next to her, quietly glancing between as she rewrote the words; Adrian watched her for a moment then inquired,

           “…Do you remember when we first met?” The quill halted for a moment then it moved, and she answered,

           “How could I forget? You scared the ever-living shit out of me.” He snorted, shaking his head as he propped his chin on his arm.

           “No, I mean when you told me about how you understood Dracula’s hate for humanity for murdering Lisa.” (Y/N) nodded, requesting,

           “What about it?”

           “You said your uncle sent you away from Târgoviște after Dracula appeared…he was killed during the initial attack, wasn’t he?” Finally, she stopped writing, but refused to look at him as she confirmed,

           “…He was…as was our home.” Adrian observed her, probing,

           “Do you hate Dracula for it?” (Y/N) swallowed thickly, murmuring,

           “I don’t think that’s a very fair question…it’s hard to not hate something that killed something you loved.” She kept her gaze to the table. “I don’t think what he did in return was right…but again, I understand why he did it.”

           “But do you hate him?” She looked over at him, challenging,

           “For what he did? Or for what he was?” Evidently, he hadn’t been expecting such questions in return because he went silent for a few seconds, then said,

           “Both.” (Y/N) inhaled deeply then let out a sigh,

           “For being a vampire? No. We can’t choose what we’re born or turned as.” She paused. “But for what he’s done?” Adrian held his breath, waiting, then she shook her head. “No…I don’t.”

           “Why?” She gazed at the stunned vampire beside her and replied,

“There’s enough hate and grief in this world already Adrian…it doesn’t need me adding to it.”

           “Even at the cost of your family?” (Y/N) nodded.

           “I’ve asked myself these exact questions, hundreds of times. I loved my uncle. More than the world. But he made the choice to stay in Târgoviște while I went away. It took me awhile to understand, but him staying until Dracula’s night horde appeared was his way of atoning for not stepping in to stop the church that day.” She eyed him. “Can I ask you the same question Adrian? Do you hate Dracula?” His eyes went wide as he clenched his fists, whispering,

           “I knew them…Dracula and Lisa…I knew them very well…” (Y/N) frowned, placing her hand over his clenched fist, comforting,

           “You don’t have to speak on it if you’re not ready.” Adrian shook his head.

           “No…it needs to be answered.” He took a deep breath, revealing, “I grieved when word of Lisa’s death reached us…he turned to genocide…I didn’t.” Golden eyes dropped to the hands they had laid on one another and he added, “I hated him for murdering thousands of innocent people just like her…but at the same time…I…I-” He jerked slightly as he felt (Y/N)’s fingers run under his eye and he gaped at her as she hushed,

           “You don’t have to rush yourself Adrian.” He blinked and tears blurred his vision. She gently brushed another tear away, “You hated what he did, but at the same time, you were close to him, and you couldn’t hate him because you loved him. Just as you loved Lisa.” Her words rang truth somewhere inside him and he brought a hand to his face, covering his eyes as he cried. (Y/N) listened as sobs wracked his chest, and she leaned over, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. She rested her cheek against the side of his head as he wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his face into her shoulder. Her heart felt like it was breaking with each shuddering breath he took, and all she could wonder was how long it had been since someone had listened to the poor man’s burdens.

#adrian tepes imagines #adrian tepes imagine #adrian tepes x reader #adrian tepes x reader imagines #adrian tepes x reader imagine #adrian tepes #alucard imagines #alucard imagine #alucard x reader #alucard x reader imagines #alucard x reader imagine #alucard #castlevania #castlevania imagine #castlevania imagines #castlevania fanfiction #trevor belmont #sypha belnades #vlad dracula tepes #lisa tepes

[sonicringbond]

Sonic Ring Bond: The Journey - Scene 30

It’s finally here, and Happy New Year everyone 👋

2021 is finally here, and it’s the perfect time to wrap up the first cour with the big confrontation with Doctor Fukurokov. It should be the last major action for a while (though with this AU one can never say), so please enjoy...

    Sonic was far from in top form, and gathering Rings was proving to be far more time consuming than he had planned. Compounding matters was that he was having a hard time even holding on to his rings.

    “ACHOO~!” Sonic sneezed fiercely, a moment later a shot from a Battle Kukku cannon relieving him of his gathered Rings and sending him flying. Crashing headfirst into the wall of another airship, Sonic let himself slump down and sigh. “Well, the ole danger sense is working, but I’m definitely off my game today. Tearing up all of these airships manually is taking too long too.”

    Pulling himself free from where he took his short break, Sonic grabbed a nearby Ring and casually leaned to the side, letting two bird soldiers shoot each other. “Or maybe the danger sense is a little slow to– AHCHOO~!”

    Rubbing his nose as he walked to the edge of the airship deck, Sonic looked at the burning fleet. He had done plenty of damage in a surprisingly quick amount of time, but the presence of so many Rings made the ships forged with Rings in their development easy to repair with the golden loops.

    “Never thought I’d complain about there being too many Rings,” Sonic mused as he looked around for a solution to his problem. “No way I can gather that many fast enough to make a long-term dent in this fleet either before Amy gets herself in over her head. That Red Star Ring is going to cause me more trouble than it’s worth. …!? Wait a second!”

    With a sudden moment of realization upon him, Sonic turned his eyes towards Battle Kukku Island which now hung above him below the ever-mysterious tiny planet that loomed in the daytime sky. “Heh! I should have thought of it sooner. I can wake up all the Rings in the airships and let them crash on their own. The chaos from the ships crashing into each other and the Ring Gates formed in the process should be more than enough to put these guys out of commission.”

    Pulling the Ring Gate Rosy leant him in its dormant state from where he had hidden it in his spines, Sonic twirled it on the end of his finger while he checked the device he wore on his wrist. Pushing his glove cuff out of the way, he smirked as he noted the location of Rosy’s matching device. “Not bad kid.”

    Looking up at the island, Sonic tossed the small Ring out and missed it grow into a Ring-framed portal he could step through as he was taken over by another sneeze. As he looked up it was just in time to see an arrow come through and expend the gate’s energies.

    “Woah!” barely dodging the projectile, Sonic looked back at it as it lodged itself in a wood plank in the airship’s side. “Well, so much for Plan A. Guess I’m running instead. Fine by me, but what type of trouble did you get yourself into this time kid?”

~|~

    The trouble Sonic questioned about was in fact caused by his spectacular timing. The Ring Gate he opened had appeared just in time to catch the arrow Draw fired and the machine holding the Red Star Ring stood unscathed. “This is why I hate Rings!”

    Draw’s shout was accompanied by him desperately reaching for another arrow as Doctor Fukurokov dove over a low wall and began pulling a series of levers. In response the entire lab started to shake and the contraption that held the Red Star Ring rose up through the opening ceiling.

    “Wait!” Rosy called out, but she could not get her footing as the whole of the room started to collapse.

    “It’s over for you interlopers!” Doctor Fukurokov called from above as the giant propeller on the island’s underside came into view below the collapsing floor. “A shame I won’t be able to make use of you now, but no matter. When my armada rains terror upon the whole world unchallenged, the fool fox will surely know who the true rulers of the skies are!”

    Bursting out into maniacal laughter as rocket thrusters on the underside of the main platform of the once enclosed lab came to life, Doctor Fukurokov felt on top of the world. Or would have except for two things. The little planet hanging in the red sky above him, as though it were mockingly looking down on him, and an ever-irritating voice belonging to a cute, leotard clad, pink hedgehog girl.

    “Sorry, but my destiny is with Sonic!”

    “He’s dead!” Doctor Fukurokov shouted as he rushed over in the direction Rosy’s voice came from.

    “He looked pretty alive when I met him,” Draw countered from a different direction and pulled Doctor Fukurokov’s attention away from where Rosy’s voice came from.

    Looking back and over the edge of the main platform, Doctor Fukurokov’s eyes widened in horror as they followed a massive cable back towards the main wall of the shaft above the impossibly large propeller. “Get away from there!”

    “Oh?” Draw questioned with a sinister smirk. “Is this oversized wire important?”

    “OF COURSE IT’S IMPORTANT YOU USELESS FLIGHTLESS FOOL!” Doctor Fukurokov screamed at the top of his lungs. “THOSE CABLES ARE ALL THAT’S KEEPING THIS LAB CONNECTED TO THE ISLAND!”

    “So, we should break them then?” Rosy asked as she tilted her head and pressed a raised finger into her cheerfully smiling muzzle.

    “OF COURSE NOT! THE ENERGY OF THE RED STAR RING WOULD BE RELEASED UNCONTRABLY IF YOU DID!”

    Though he screamed it out of panic, Doctor Fukurokov knew he had made a mistake. Adjusting his glasses, he took a deep breath and tried pleading with the two troublemakers who threatened to unravel his ambition. “Perhaps being allowed to be left alive by the Battle Kukku Armada is enough to convince you to leave peacefully. Perhaps?”

    “What do you think Draw?” Rosy asked and revealed she had been standing on the central column that had lifted the lab out of the chamber it had been in. Doctor Fukurokov could hardly believe that the design oversight had given her a safe place to survive the collapse of the island’s center, and one that gave her access to where the four massive cables that fueled the whole island connected to the main platform. For all his terror, he knew he had to pay attention to the conversation taking place though.

    “You say Rings are taboo, and this one is threatening to give a bunch of mean old pirates way too much power.”

    “Then let’s break it.”

    “NOOOOO~~~~~!!!!!!!!!!”

    Draw may have gained the speed to keep up with Rosy, but he lacked her spin attack and was effectively helpless. Doctor Fukurokov was not so similarly inhibited, even as Rosy’s spin attack shook the whole platform as a cable was knocked free and crackling red energy erupted from the exposed socket. Instead, he managed to grab a jet pack and immediately flew about opening fire with integrated machine guns on Rosy.

    “Wah~!”

    There was barely any room to build up the speed she needed to leap to safety, and with Doctor Fukurokov firing on her it was unlikely Rosy would make it at all. Fortunately, Doctor Fukurokov had to dodge another fired arrow from Draw.

    “YOU WILL NOT STO–?!”

    “Hi!” Rosy cut off Doctor Fukurokov as she landed on his shoulders and offered him a pleasant wave. “We don’t have to do this you know. If you just turn off the machine and give me the Red Star Ring… Though you should give up this life of hurting people too. There are plenty of other exciting ways to live where you help people too. You’re really smart–!”

    “ENOUGH YOU IMPUDENT–!”

    Trying to dislodge Rosy, Doctor Fukurokov’s erratic flight instead allowed her to jump out and land on one of the outer cable ports. Turning to open machine gun fire on her anew, he was greeted by her pulling down on her eye and sticking her tongue out at him. That and an arrow which ruptured one of the twinjets of his pack.

    “NOO~!”

    As he struggled to recover and return to the main platform, Doctor Fukurokov refused to give up and continued to fire as he spiraled upward wildly. Rosy was more than fast enough to evade him, and then one and two more cables fell as she Spin Attacked through them. The last cable would not go immediately as she had to get herself and Draw safely up it to the main platform. This afforded Doctor Fukurokov the time he needed to land and turn his full attention onto Draw as he was tossed up over the railing.

    “Gyah~!” Dancing about to avoid the machine fire, Draw ran and leapt over a massive pipe to take cover on the other side of the device that held the Red Star Ring. He nearly over did his jump as Rosy’s attack on the final cable coupling caused the platform to wrench fiercely before the rockets holding it afloat were overwhelmed with power and launched the three who occupied it with tremendous velocity towards the little planet above.

    “Not like this!” Doctor Fukurokov denied the impending doom that was but a few seconds away from him and scrambled towards the main control console. As he approached a golden light which bested that of the Red Ring appeared above him and he looked up to see a Ring Gate spin open well above him and soon on top of him.

    “Sorry I’m late,” Sonic greeted everyone as he fell through and gave them a two fingered wave as he extended his other hand towards the Red Star Ring. “Woah!”

    As his outstretched palm neared the out-of-control Ring, the entire platform came to a sudden a stop. For a moment everyone hung in the air and Rosy turned her questioning eyes on Sonic and called his name.

    “Mote!” Draw called out a different name as his fairy companion took advantage of the momentary pause to fly between Sonic’s outstretched hand and the Red Star Ring as it suddenly stopped spinning and fell on its side. No sooner did it fell flat did it start to rotate perpendicular to its axis and start to grow rising up into the sky. As it passed Mote and Sonic, everyone fell to the platform, though Sonic scooped up the suddenly exhausted fairy.

    “Don’t know what you did little guy, but I hope it didn’t interfere with what I was trying to do. Anyway, time to go! Kid! Tyke! Grab on!”

    Running in their general direction, Sonic put his arms out for Rosy and Draw to grab, but Rosy took advantage of them both and jumped into Sonic’s arms while Draw latched himself onto Rosy’s back.

    “Really you two?” Sonic asked with an awkward laugh as he found himself carrying two people at once bridal style. Though with Draw clinging to Rosy’s back, Rosy was free to wrap at least one arm around Sonic as she nuzzled him joyfully. Her other hand was required to hold onto Mote who she pressed tenderly to her chest to keep safe. Sonic noted the motion and smirked a moment before growing more serious and putting on a fierce look of concentration. “Whatever. Just don’t let go!”

    Vaulting the railing, Sonic fell with the other’s hanging on into the collapsing shaft as everything seemed to transform into Rings around them.

    ~I never even saw the Ring Gate there were so many Rings. I didn’t know what Sonic had done either, and though I think Mote told Draw, he refused to tell me. Whatever it was that happened though, there was no denying that the entire world would know the consequences of Sonic’s actions that day.

    ~From the mountain peak we appeared on, and likely from anywhere else too, the Red Star Ring could be seen filling the sky. It was massive unlike what I had glimpsed of the last one Sonic used. But the effects of the Ring Shifts on the world were indisputable. I could see them happening everywhere I looked and there was no stability to the world at all. Even the Red Star Ring was not safe from the chaos it wrought.

    ~In a flash of red light, it exploded and a rain of red motes of light rained down all over the world. Beyond it, and that sinister little planet that was always watching me, a red crack appeared in the sky, like a bolt of lightning frozen in time that arced across from one horizon to the other. If you looked closely enough, you could see lands beyond it as though we were looking at another planet. And as my travels resumed, it became clear that those lands were also affected by Rings Shifts as the scenery beyond surely changed. But what else was beyond that crack in the sky was a mystery, but the world had changed. Everything but that ever watchful planet in the sky. Almost.

    ~It no longer only appeared in the day and had begun to watch me even after the sun had set. And at night, it was clear there were cities up there too as the lights twinkled so bright. But… But those lights didn’t bring me joy like the stars.~

Scene 30 · CLEARED Mark of a Red Star, End

-----

And with that, the first cour is done. From here and as we head into the new year, Sonic Ring Bond will go back to a more travel centric focus, but that is far from meaning there will be less enemies and grand encounters. It’s time for Sonic and Rosy to start learning what is really going on in the world, and whether they can afford to keep looking for their friends or try to stop what is coming.

I’m really excited to keep building up the world and really hope everyone will be able to join me and help the world grow through your prompts and partaking of the occasional survey. Let’s make 2021 a great year, and start it off with something amazing! thank you everyone! Happy New Year!

-----

Special Thanks to Cutegirlmayra Story by @JoshTarwater/SonicFanJ Inspiring Song – Second Advent – Tsutomu Narita, GRANBLUE FANTASY – Granblue Fantasy Original Soundtrack: Chaos

Fair Use Disclaimer

Sonic the Hedgehog and all affiliated characters and logos are the express property and Copyright© of SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS used without permission under Title 17 U.S.C Section 107 of the Copyright Act 1976 in which allowance is made for “fair use” for purposes such as criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, scholarship, and research. “Fair use” is use permitted by copyright statute that might otherwise be considered copyright infringement. The Sonic Ring Bond: The Journey alternate universe (AU) consumer written work of fiction is a non-profit transformative work primarily for personal use and can and will be taken down without warning or prior notice at the request of the copyright holder(s) should it not be recognized under “fair use”.

*Sonic Ring Bond logo created by DEE Art – twitter.com/daryliscute.

Sonic Ring Bond AU and Sonic Ring Bond: The Journey are the creation of Joshua David Tarwater/ynymbus/sonicfanj/@Joshtarwater and is to be, including all contents herein considered for all legal purposes the property of the Sonic the Hedgehog intellectual property (IP) and copyright owners, SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS. All story contributors via prompt, suggestion, written scene, art, and all and every other contribution acknowledge that all contributed material is forfeit for legal purposes to SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS upon official request from SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS.

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic fan fiction #sonic au #sonic au series #sonic ring bond #the journey #classic amy #amy rose #rosy the rascal #au amy #amy redesign #doctor fukulokov #sonic oc #draw the koala #patch #mote the fairy

[abiik]

@vhsgf replied to your post “this song made me realize i've never written about jason missing zoe”

heather this might be too forward and angsty of me to say (pls lmk if is) but now i am curious about zoe reacting to jason's death and then mirroring w jason coming back from the dead and then finding out his best friend is dead. like it sounds so PAINFUL but like. also i wanna know about it. heather what have you done i-

i had to put my hair up for this. im literally so emotional about this rn,,,like when am i not but STILL OKAY IT MAKES ME VERY [SCREECHES] (also a read more because this is fucking long im so sorry)

okay let’s start with zoe because jason’s death is a traumatic thing for her on like multiple points all relating back to when she was like elementary school aged (im pretty sure i have it where she’s like 8 ish when this happens). before jason and before going into the whole vigilante business – no matter what version of zoe you prefer – she loses her two younger brothers in a joker related accident. he kills them. and zoe… zoe is so,,, well she’s angry. because no one does anything. no one. not that fabled batman, not the police, not the fucking government – NOBODY. and she’s just supposed to keep living her life like everything is fucking fine because oh that’s just the way gotham is. and like why the fuck would she just keep living her life when her barely out of toddler aged little brothers are now dead?? why wouldn’t she want to do something about that?? why the fuck should she just let it roll off her back like no biggie?? (of course, this is a catalyst for her mother’s downward spiral and eventual disappearance, and then keme’s).

then of course, there’s zoe’s powers. at that age she didn’t really understand the extent of them, what she could do with them and all that, but as they develop and her own awareness of them develop, she is faced by like intense guilt and remorse. if only she’d been able to do something. if only she’d been there. if only she could’ve stopped the joker. if only, if only, if only. and like, realistically, there wasn’t much she could do. it wasn’t like she knew fully how strong she was; she’d barely gotten flying down at that point, but then she’s growing up and she realizes she never really had a limit. and she kind of has this complex, i’ve said it before but she really does try to bear the weight of the world on her shoulders, so everything that has happened to her up until this point after the twins die, it’s partly her fault; if only she could have been better, she could have saved them, she could have her mom, she could have keme – she could have her family back.

then, of course, there is in all of this her intense hatred of the joker. and by correlation to the whole fucking issue, gotham city and batman. (ive said that they kind of grow to like each other more, but when z and jay become friends and through their teen years until his death, it’s kind of like whenever youre gay and your bff is gay and you both kind of hate the other’s really fucked up parent who’s okay sometimes but isn’t all the time and you would totally like throw down with them if only there weren’t like,,,repercussions)

anyway, so when jason dies, it’s a big fucking deal. like he’d already been acting weird, bruce was worried about him, z was worried about him, and then he dies okay. and zoe… bruce doesn’t tell zoe right away. he doesn’t tell her and when zoe does find out, she. is. pissed. all of the shit with her baby brothers comes back. she wasn’t there. she wasn’t able to save him – because she sure as hell KNOWS that she could have at this point. and now he’s GONE. AND THIS ENTIRE TIME, SHE HAD NO FUCKING CLUE BECAUSE BRUCE DIDN’T TELL HER!!! she couldn’t even go to his funeral!!! and then, AND THEN, on fucking top of that – it was the joker who killed him. so jason’s death was like a fucking quadruple blow to her.

after finding out the details, zoe goes binary for the first time. and it’s… well it’s scary. it takes a whole lot of coaxing from old teammates and being physically restrained by diana (who lowkey is kinda like why?? are?? we?? stopping?? her?? from?? killing?? the?? joker??) and clark and donna, and they can’t even really knock her out because when she’s binary, there’s only really waiting out the duration of the high until she passes tf out from using too much energy. which she DOES and then after a good long talk with gran-gran, zoe’s going on a much needed retreat with diana to themyscira.

during that time, zoe’s super depressed. like reasonably, so. she’s so exhausted and she’s still angry but she’s also just like,,, so tired. she lost her best friend dude. like she loves jason so much, she loves him so much, and then he was just gone. poof! and at least, at least with atsa and ahiga, she got to like, be there for their send off. jason ends up being another hole in her life, like her dad and her mom and keme. he’s added to this list of people who all were just…g o n e. she didn’t get to mourn them. like obviously, she can, but every time she thinks about jason, she begins to spiral. (this is kind of when she starts drinking,,,, human alcohol can’t really touch her but she does therapeutically – which is!! not good!!) she also begins to distance herself – from jason’s titans (connor holds on with an iron grip and eddie still checks up on her, but rose was just as distraught and kyle is still kind of numb), from the original titans, from bruce and alfred, from diana, even from gran-gran and uncle bell. she fills the void with work as well as the alcohol that doesn’t really do anything to her except make her mouth taste gross and weird and she hates it but it’s become a habit. if she isn’t out doing some reckless thing while saving the world, then she’s at a bar or just sitting by the ocean.

she has bad dreams too, like horrible dreams. and like,,, they’re not necessarily horrific or anything,, she usually dreams about good times, memories with jason or with atsa and ahiga, sometimes some weird mixture of all three of them hanging out together and it’s the worst fucking thing because she wakes up and she wishes she was there too, that she could stay with them, because she misses them so much. she just wants her family back, she wants the family she had before jason and dick and alfred and the titans, but she also wants them too – she wants all of it.

and then it all comes to head with her dad’s sudden involvement with earth and shit. zoe sacrifices herself not only because she carries the fucking world on her shoulders and has a stupid martyr complex, but also because she thinks she’d be okay dying like this. she doesn’t. die that is. she doesn’t die but she also doesn’t come back.

jason’s revival story arc thing is all a bit murky for me bc I kind of like mix the whole waking up and clawing himself from his grave and also the under the red hood storyline (and like correct me if there is a version like that bc like,,, idk I can’t remember). anyway, so jason comes back, and like it’s kind of messy bc of timeline shit but he doesn’t really come back, come back, until z’s gone. like gone gone. like they held a funeral and everything for her. jason didn’t get to go and THAT is SHIT. like yeah, he wasn’t fucking alive, nobody fucking knows he’s alive anyway, but it still hurts.

and like,,, you know what else kind of hurts, is like he kind of thought that after he came back, if no one was on his side – if for some reason literally everyone was against him – he’d still have zoe. that’s the worst fucking part. he hears about what happened. he hears that she literally went ballistic. and like,, jason KNOWS that zoe would have his side, that zoe would be there for him, that even if she might not have agreed with some of the things he’s done, that she’d be right by his side, showing she cares. because like. like I know bruce is kind of stunted with emotional expression, but it’s really hard to feel like you’re appreciated when someone else’s love language is so fucking hard to translate, when you need constant validation, to be told you matter to be shown you matter to them and they can’t accommodate even a little bit, because of their pride or because they have to deem that you deserve it all of a sudden. and like I love bruce, but they way he treats his kids is shit. so yeah. jason feels hella alone when he comes back and his best friend, his rock, his ride or die (literally wfkejvnk) is fucking gone.

jason definitely has nightmares too. he doesn’t know how zoe died, like really know – no one does, because there hadn’t been a body. and jason’s mind can be a pretty dark place already, add on top of that the nightmares about his best friend dying the same way he did, or being like dick, who actually witnessed the explosion that ‘killed’ zoe. he can’t even fathom what zoe went through with his death, but eventually, as jason kind of comes back into the batfam and shit, he also kind of gets to be with the last of zoe’s family. gran-gran and uncle bell are much warmer than bruce wayne and that too big mansion and that cold fucking cave. jason goes to the ranch a lot, or finds himself at uncle bell’s antique shop whenever he needs a breather, to just be alone with something that close to zoe.

they literally both go through that period where they’re extremely reckless with mourning and regrets and fuck i never got to say this and fuck what could I have done differently, what could I have changed if I’d been there? but where jason is able to recover more effectively, zoe doesn’t do so well in space.

really, that song had triggered thoughts about jason going through her things, the things she left in his bedroom – that bruce refused to touch or move or anything – and just thinking back on their life together. it was definitely shorter than they expected and when jason thinks about it, it’s a whole bunch of salty anger and throat swelling sadness that has him kind of crippled. because like,,, he also knows how the twins died, he knows how it happened, not only did he have the firsthand accounts from those most effected, but also like, he read the reports. he KNOWS, and he feels kind of guilty, just a little bit, that what he did put her through a similar version to losing her baby brothers.

NREJKVNERLFEWLFJNEKR FUCK OKAY I THINK I NEED TO STOP LIKE THIS IS OBVIOUSLY JUST A BIG DUMB BUT BFJKERNFKJEN F   U   C   K  OKAY

#vhsgf #h replies. #look they make me fucking cry #their relationship hurts me so bad #and fuck whenever they MEET AGAIN!!! #LITERALLY SO FUCKING RECKLESS TTRYING TO KEEP THE OTHER FROM EVER LEAVING THEM AGAIN LIKE HAHA SIKE BITCH #I DIDN'T COME BACK FROM THE DEAD ONLY FOR NOTHIN #YOU'RE NEVER GETTIGN RID OF ME AND IM NEVER GETTING RID OF YOU #oc: zoe huang #this is also so fucking rambly i apologizeee #suicide / #depression / #death / #alcohol / #ask to tag

[alliesweetsong]

Free falling

“You’ve failed me for the last time.” 

-The Word Alive “Hounds of Anubis”

(Previous Chapter: First Steps)

“You’ve been acting strange Allie..”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“You’re staying with me, there is not saying ‘I can’t’”

The bristling fur, the dull throbs, and the momentary lapses of reality. This, and much more had been plaguing the ranger. What did she say to Cellesta? Did she make up an excuse and blindly put on a front?

No.

Cellesta isn’t dumb, nor was she born yesterday, she knew, like they all knew. Allie wasn’t well. Hear near-death experience had woken something up, of that she was sure. Had she always been like this? Some elf potent in magical prowess but quick to falter? Certainly, the physical and mental demands her father had placed on her had done it’s part to steel her mind and nerves. 

An even more frightening thing that she had dwelled on recently, had it hastened her downward spiral to mental anguish? Doomed to torment herself for the remainder of her waking days alive. 

Alive. 

So few things anymore were precious, almost revered, or cherish as she did her life. She was granted one last chance, one last opportunity to not squander all that she held close to her heart. 

And now, as Cellesta reached out to touch her Ranger friend, the Ren’dorei’s eyes suddenly flash vibrantly with a hurricane of void energy startled by the touch. This time it was noticeable, there was no hiding what that was, As it dissipates the Elf moans and grabs her head. 

“Tear asunder, Rend flesh” 

Rocking back and forth for several moments in clear discomfort she finally rises to her feet and grabs her rifle she had just reassembled from cleaning it moments prior. 

“I should be going.” She says softly.

Cellesta narrows her eyes, their arcane properties shimmering with sparks of power as both brows knot together in confusion,

“Allie.”

he commanding undertone made itself well known as she stared the Ren'dorei down, 

"What's going on? You can't hide what just happened from us, especially me. There is something wrong I can see it."

Allie’s eyes dart from Aredin to Finnigan and finally to Cellesta. “Please, just let me go,” she says in a soft and peaceful manner 

"What does running from problems solve, Allie?" The Night Elf inquiries getting increasingly angered over her friend's seclusion as she balls her hands into fists.

"I'm willing to help you, and yet you run as if you'll be scorned for what's wrong."

Allie whirls around in genuine anger, she couldn’t make the Kaldorei understand in a polite manner maybe she could another way. 

"I'M NOT RUNNING IM TRYING TO PROTECT YOU!"  her voice rose as she screamed in anger and frustration

“End them all.” 

Aredin catches Allie’s gaze for a moment until the Vod Elf turned to leave.  

"Just let her leave, Cellesta. You can't solve everyone's issues, and you're only making her upset." The former spymaster says lazily. 

Cellesta growls under her breath, that feral look hidden behind the nervous anger and concern becoming more and more apparent, 

"I don't want to be protected, I want to help you! Elune dammit, you can't keep secluding yourself from m- us and expect to be okay!"

Sitting away from the others Marthis was watching, as allie moved he seemed to jump down and disappear from sight. Appearing near allie from a nearby tree as he looked at her and Cell. 

"Cellesta..." he said quietly as he looked over allie. His eyes the hazel hue that seemed to glisten in the sun. "Allie." he said sternly. "We need to talk.." His voice seemed shaky but firm.

Allie curses in Thalassian and rolls her eyes 

"What do you want Marthis, I'm really not in the mood for your talks, make it quick." 

she sneers setting her rifle down and folding her arms across her chest while glaring at Cellesta. 

"You know nothing of what is happening in my head yet you presume to think its best I remain," she replies shortly, for once, Allie was actually pissed.

"And yet you believe you're tough enough to go through it on your own. It's alright to ask for help. You know what? You're correct in saying that I had no idea what's happening inside that head of yours because you refuse to seek aid when you need it." Cellesta snaps, stubbornly continuing the argument,

 "Ever since you came back, you have been different. You are not the Allisel that I have grown close to."

The last statement cut, deep. Looking between Marthis and Cellesta for a moment looking as if she wanted to say something, and wanted a hug. She hated holding her friends back but the Elf knew they could get hurt, and that was something she simply could not, nor would not, allow. Turning around without another word she silently picks up her rifle once more and starts off towards the Infirmary.

Two Days Later: 

A soft cough emantes from Allie as she hurredly throws some clothes in her pack and makes sure she had everything she needed. This was to be a journey of knowledge, so weapons would not be needed. Wearing a casual get up of leather pants, ankle high boots and a green tunic, the Void elf secures the pack shut and picks up her Signet ring to activate it. 

"Just want to make it known I am travelling to Stormwind later and ultimatley Dalaran for a few days to pick up supplies I require to improve on a few designs I have for explosives.."

her voice was soft, timid even, ever since the arguement with Cellesta the void elf had been mostly afraid to leave the relative safety of the infirmary. Without a response she quickly pens the same message and leaves it on her bed before picking up her pack, and starting off, into the unknown.

@energetictick @tialasnow @finnwyman @dightondavenwell @aredinhamilton @anierous-sunblade for mentions or relevnace 

#story #Allie Sweetsong #personal arc #canon #wra roleplay #wra alliance

[eternityunicorn]

Love is Madness - Part Two

Author: eternityunicorn 

Genre: Romance/Drama/AU

Pairing: Elijah Mikealson x OC

Warnings: Eventual Smut (*Smut chapters marked +18)

Summary: AU of an AU: Elijah and Eternity had been lovers centuries ago, in a brief but profound love affair that ended terribly when Eternity had betrayed Elijah by choosing duty over the heart and nearly killing him along with his siblings. Now in present day, they find themselves forced together by dire circumstances that have intertwined their paths once more, but what will become of them when it becomes clear that their love for each other is still as profound now as it had been all those centuries ago?

NOTE: OC and original elements are from my up and coming novel series!

———————————————————————————————————

The foursome sat together at a table inside the dingy, dark Rousseau’s. Madame LaRue has told them about the Hollow, the spirit of an ancient witch, whom was the epitome of evil. The dark creature had worshipers, whom had done it’s bidding since ancient times. These cultists were responsible for great travesties throughout history, such as wars, famines, and destruction all in the name of the Hollow. Furthermore, this evil entity was a master of possession, and it was concluded that the entity no doubt would want to possess Hope, whom was uniquely powerful because of her parentage. All this was according to the elderly witch. 

Upon hearing this grave threat that had yet to fall upon them, Hayley grew tense and extremely worried for her daughter, a state she remained in even after they had left the Madame’s. She currently sat at the table fidgeting with a glass of whisky in her hand. She didn’t look at anyone, finding the dark wood table more interesting than the people she sat with, even Eternity whom everyone seemed to gravitate to when presented with her.

She wasn’t the only one that was worried. Elijah was too. He loved his little niece dearly and of course, didn’t want anything terrible to happen to her. He’d maim, torture, and kill anyone whom dared to threaten that little girl, whom had brought such light into the lives of the Mikaelsons. He was ready to do whatever it took to keep Hope safe.

He heartily drank from his own glass of bourbon, as he continued to worry for his niece.

Gia, on the other hand, had only a general concern, but that was because she wasn’t attached to Hope the way Hayley or Elijah was. Therefore, she was more concerned with the potential danger the Hollow could pose to the rest of the world, including herself, should the vengeful spirit take possession of Hope.

Looking at Eternity, Elijah found that she was the one whom was the least concerned of all of them, but that was because defeating evil was her expertise. She was the warrior hero type, a guardian of sorts. No doubt she already had a plan of action that she was formulating quietly as she watched the others at the table worry.

“Well, not that hanging out with you guys hasn’t been fun...and incredibly awkward, but I need to get going,” Gia finally announced, if only so she could excuse herself from the remaining tense atmosphere. “Marcel needed me to meet him after our visit to Madame LaRue.” She got up from the table and smiled fondly at Elijah, “I’ll text you later?”

The Original simply nodded and let her go.

Once Gia had made her exit, Hayley was the next to speak in parting, “I suppose I should go break the news to Klaus that there’s a vengeful evil spirit coming for our daughter. I’m sure he’ll take the news well.”

As she moved to get up, Eternity’s hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, halting her. With Hayley’s questioning eyes upon her, she said with confidence as she gazed up at her point blank, “Do not fret too much for your child, Hayley. You have the most powerful immortal in existence by your side in this. I promise you here and now that I will do what I must to protect your daughter from this evil. You have my word on that.”

Hayley gave her a small smile and an awkward nod, as the immortal queen released her. It seemed she wasn’t sure what to make of Eternity, having not known anything about her. Elijah never spoke of his former otherworldly lover to her during their relationship and when Eternity had shown up recently, he had been very vague in his explanation of her identity, especially the explanation of who she was to him.

“Thanks,” she said to Eternity, as she gave Elijah a tight parting smile, before making her exit as well.

“You shouldn’t make promises you might not end up keeping,” quipped Elijah, once the hybrid female was gone, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice. “Duty before the heart and all,” he raised his glass in mock toast, before downing the rest of the amber liquid.

Eternity gazed at him with mild amusement as she calmly replied, “Be careful, Elijah, your bitterness is showing.”

“Be careful, Eternity, or else I will descend upon you, should you decide to betray my family again,” he countered in a quiet threat. “You had better protect my niece as promised.”

The immortal queen wasn't at all fazed by his threat or his intimidating presence, as they both knew both were meaningless. He was no match for her in any way. However, instead of issuing a counter threat or pointed out the pointlessness of his, she looked apologetic, the amusement fading from her face as she gazed at him and he back at her. 

Eternity reached over and laid her hand upon his arm as she sighed, “I am sorry for what happened, Elijah. I should have acted better, found a different path when dealing with your chaotic siblings, for our love, if nothing else. For the pain I have caused you, I do apologize. However, I am here now to help you and yours, if only to make up for the time long since past. I will protect Hope at all costs. I swear it.”

Elijah looked at her contemplatively. He hadn’t expected her to so readily apologize for choosing her duty over him all those years ago. He had figured she wasn’t remorseful over it, as he knew well that she was a proud warrior, whom cared for justice and doing what was right above all else. Yet, there she was looking at him with big, sorrowful eyes. It seemed that perhaps Eternity did care about one thing more than her sense of duty.

He quickly shook himself of the emotions that welled up inside him with that thought. He couldn’t let himself go there, to be swayed by her genuine regret. Not now. He refused to. 

Elijah pulled his arm away from her touch sharply, earning him a hurtful look that was quickly masked by blankness. He rose from his chair fluidly and glowered at her, “Just do as you say you will; protect Hope. Then, once this business with the Hollow is dealt with, you may free yourself from the burden of your promise to my family and leave, yes?”

Eternity didn’t immediately speak. Instead she too rose from the table first and started coolly at him, “As you wish, but do keep your chaotic brother in line amidst this crisis, Elijah. I would so hate to have to kill him, especially since this time, there shall be nothing to hold me back from doing what I must, should Niklaus decide to be absolutely monstrous.” She smirked cruelly, just as she vanished from sight before he could retort.

He sighed heavily with one hand in his pants pocket and the fingertips of his other rubbing across his lower lip contemplatively. He looked down at the table, deep in thought. Eternity’s cold parting words and quick exit affected him more than he wanted to admit. He knew she had only spoke that way in response to his own coldness toward her heartfelt apology. Yet, he also knew that if he didn’t keep his brother in check, she would make good on the subtle threat she had issued towards Niklaus - and she was right. He wouldn’t be able to stay her hand this time, if it came to that.

Knowing this was unsettling, but seeing as there wasn’t a whole lot he could do about it, Elijah decided to focus upon the protection of his niece and ensuring the Hollow never gets it’s hands upon her. He decided to head to the Mikaelson compound, to aid Hayley in tempering Niklaus’s paranoia and rage that he was surely to spiral into at the news of this yet arrived threat unto young Hope. 

Before he even walked into the courtyard, he could hear the raving madness of his hybrid brother as he fretted over his young daughter’s safety. He could also detect Hayley’s voice as she tried to get him to calm down and listen to her. It was moderately effective, thanks to the great affection Niklaus had for Hope’s mother. 

To Elijah’s surprise, he heard a third voice, one that he hadn’t expected to hear at all - Eternity!

“Niklaus, you cannot go off on a paranoid rampage,” the immortal queen was telling his brother, as he entered the compound. “Doing so will not end well...for anyone.”

“Oh and I should listen to you?” The hybrid spat back at the patient ethereal beauty. “If I recall, you tried to kill me and my brother Kol once, in a vile act of betrayal on your part. Because of that, you cannot be trusted, especially not with the safety of my daughter.”

Eternity sighed heavily, before she looked Niklaus straight in the eye and replied, “Yes, I did try and kill you, but it wasn’t what I wanted. I didn’t want to kill you or Kol, for that matter. Why do you think you had so many chances to change your ways, to stop the unnecessary killing of innocent people? Yet you failed to do so time and time again. Therefore, you forced my hand. I did what I thought I had to, to put an end to the madness.”

Niklaus fell silent then with his jaw tightening as his eyes blazed at the tiny woman.

“I loved you, Niklaus, and Kol...Elijah,” murmured the queen softly, with great fondness and a hint of deep sadness. “You were my companions, my friends. I never wanted to hurt any of you, but as always, it is duty before the heart, I’m afraid.”

Elijah felt his insides twist at her confession of love, especially when he heard his name fall from her lips in such a longing, affectionate way. His heart ached with emotions he tried his damnedest to push away, that he refused to even acknowledge by naming them. He didn’t want to feel them. Not now, if ever again.

“And what if your duty must come first where Hope is concerned? What if the Hollow takes her and you have to act?” Elijah’s brother inquired, with his hands clasped tightly behind his back as he stared intensely down at the small immortal woman. “Will you kill my daughter for the greater good? Will you end her to save the world?”

Eternity frowned deeply and waved him away dismissively, “Of course not. Do not be stupid, Niklaus.”

It was here that Elijah decided to make his presence known. With one hand casually in his pants pocket, he strolled over to the three of them, as he asked the pale woman, “And what precisely will you do instead?”

She gazed at him coolly. She was still stinging from their earlier interaction it seemed. “If Hope is possessed by the evil spirit of the Hollow, it does not make much sense to put the child down as she is not conscious of whatever deeds the dark entity wills her to achieve,” she explained. “Instead, I will perform an extraction of the Hollow from Hope’s body and kill the creature when it is no longer attached to it’s host, so that it will no longer plague this world ever again. It will not be harmful to the child, you all have my word on that.”

“Ah yes, like that extraction Kol helped you with that one time,” Niklaus said with a slight smile. “The poor sod that got himself possessed was completely unharmed.” He paused as he

considered her before saying, “I suppose I can give you a chance to prove yourself.”

Eternity rolled her eyes, “I do not need to prove myself, you narcissistic fool. I outrank you, for one thing, and for another, I can do as I please without your permission or consent, for that matter. Really, I’m only including you as a courtesy since you are the child’s father and I do not care to pull rank unless absolutely necessary.” She looked at him meaningfully, “You can accept I am here to watch over young Hope or not, it really does not matter to me. I will still do whatever is needed, no matter your thoughts on the issue.”

Niklaus looked amused by her matter-of-fact attitude. “Yes, I suppose you do have the position of authority,” he said mockingly. “You are the all-powerful Universal Queen and I am but the lowly Earth-based immortal. I am no match for you.”

“I’m not all powerful, Niklaus, you know that,” she smirked. 

Elijah’s brother grinned at her in return, seeing how she didn’t correct him on the latter part of his statement, which implied that she agreed with it.

Eternity grew serious then and told the three of them together, “I promise to stand vigilant over Hope and when the time comes, I will save her from evil. The child is in good hands. I won’t let anything terrible happen to her.”

“Excellent,” the hybrid said cheerfully. “I’ll have a room made up for you, my dear.”

The immortal queen moved to protest. 

“What?” Niklaus grinned mischievously, as he backed away. “If you are to protect my daughter, Eternity. Then you shall need to be in close quarters, yes? Or else what kind of protector would you be?”

Eternity thought about and then sighed defeatedly, without voicing the protests she wanted to make.

With that, the hybrid left, leaving Hayley, Elijah, and Eternity alone together. The atmosphere turned awkward all over again, reminding each of Madame LaRue’s. They stared at each other, unsure of what to say. Then Hayley quickly dismissed herself, trailing after Niklaus with the excuse of needing to tend to Hope, leaving Elijah alone with Eternity in the courtyard.

“Your brother doesn’t seem to realize that I have other duties elsewhere,” the immortal queen said casually. “Typical Niklaus, only thinking of his own needs without considering others. I hope he acts well enough when I tell him I have to leave from time to time, not that he can prevent me from going as I please. Still, I remember his temper well enough to know it is better to keep him in good spirits.”

“You could have told him you weren’t staying,” pointed out Elijah. 

She nodded with a small, fond smile forming on her lips, “Aye, but I confess, despite the past and all his faults, I have missed Niklaus.” Her gaze didn’t quite meet his own when she said this. “We did have a good time together, all that time ago. With him, with you, and with -.”

“Well, do my eyes deceive me?” Called down Kol, whom appeared on the balcony above with a large grin upon his face. “E!”

The younger vampire came trotting down the stairs quickly. He crossed the courtyard and swept Eternity into a tight hug, as if she hadn’t betrayed him by attempted murder over a century ago. 

Both Elijah and the ethereal woman were surprised by his actions, but Eternity returned his affections eventually, hugging him back, before Kol pulled away. He held her at arms length and gazed at her with awed friendliness. 

“Kol! What a surprise,” Eternity greeted the younger Mikaelson with a grin.

“Oh, you mean my lack of animosity toward you for trying to kill me all those years ago,” he responded and then shrugged, “I was rather out of line back then, I admit. Honestly, I probably had an assassination attempt coming. Besides, even if I had been cross about all that, how could I stay angry with my favorite immortal from beyond the stars?”

Eternity smiled genuinely, “Well, that is sweet, I suppose. I’m glad at least one of you is willing to forgive me for the past.”

Kol shrugged again, “Of course, darling. What are friends for? After all, it was always more fun with you around, despite my wicked faults. I actually look forward to getting back to it. We certainly have some catching up to do, darling.”

Elijah watched this exchange between Eternity and Kol with mixed feelings. Part of him dared to be jealous by the almost flirtatious way his little brother spoke to the shimmering woman. Another part of him was wary of just how forgiving he was being, with not an ounce of animosity in sight. It was a most unusual thing to be sure. Just what game was Kol playing? He had to wonder.

However, before he could say anything or intervene in any way, his phone buzzed from his inner jacket pocket, alerting him to an incoming text. Pulling out the device, he saw that the message was from Gia. She needed to meet with him at Marcel’s for some reason she chose not to disclose in written form. 

“Go to your lady,” Eternity said to him knowingly. “Things are in good hands here.” She turned and winked at Kol.

Elijah felt the jealousy in him increase by the way she looked so fondly at his brother and the way Kol reciprocated with his own borderline flirtatious gaze. Yet, he dared not to let it show. He didn’t want anyone to know how much he was affected by Eternity or her sudden interests in his brother. Therefore, he quickly and curtly excused himself, heading out of the compound and back to Algiers, to Gia.

Yet, despite his attempts to not feel anything for Eternity, Elijah found himself plagued with those pesky emotions he tried so hard to deny, even as he returned to his current romantic interest.

To Be Continued....

———————————————————————————————————

Tag List: @elejah-wonderland @missnmikealson @inmylifeilovedthemall @rissyrapp20 @dendrite-lover @xanderling @phoenix-potter-bailey @hawaiianohana15

#elijah mikaelson #daniel gillies #original character #elijah x eternity #klaus mikaelson #kol mikaelson #hayley marshall #klaus x hayley #gia #romance #drama #alternate universe #alternative universe #the originals #the vampire diaries #the originals fanfiction #the vampire diaries fanfiction

[sofreddie]

Tainted Love 2: The Aftermath

Summary: Dean, Sam, and Y/N deal with the consequences of their actions.

Characters: Dean, Sam, Reader, Cas

Warnings: Mentions of Non-con/Attempted Rape, Angst, Fluff (little itty-bitty bit)

Word Count: 1,626

A/N: I received a commissioned request from @mrs-meghan-winchester to continue this story. There will be a third, and final, part.

PART 1

MASTERLIST

It had been two weeks since Cas had arrived in the Bunker and dealt with the ordeal of Dean, Sam, and Y/N. Two weeks of Dean dealing with the fallout of his actions while being a demon. Two weeks of Sam trying to help his brother and swallow his own guilt of nearly raping their close friend. Two weeks of Y/N avoiding the brothers as much as possible, offering little more than mono-syllables and false smiles when communication was inevitable.

Y/N would overhear their voices reverberating throughout the halls, arguments and attempts at soothing one another. Dean was spiraling into a hole of guilt, grief, and self-hatred over all he had done. Sam consistently reminding him that he wasn’t himself, he was a demon. Dean would scoff and drink, usually until he lost consciousness. Sam too delved into the self-loathing, Dean again trying to tell him it wasn’t his fault, but his own. HE cast the spell. HE knocked Sam out. HE tied Y/N up and...the thoughts of what he’d done churning his stomach, making him nearly vomit from the overwhelming emotions of it all.

In the end, the only thing they seemed to agree on is that they had failed her. Y/N was their friend, someone they both loved immensely. She wasn’t a Hunter. She provided friendship, warmth, a sense of normality and domesticity that was foreign but welcome. Even though they agreed that they couldn’t share their love and yearning with her for fear of destroying her, they felt as though they had done so anyway. She couldn’t look at them, wouldn’t talk to them. They had destroyed her in the worst ways possible and it only gnawed at them further, increasing their guilt and shame.

“Y/N.” Cas appeared in her room, taking a seat beside her on her bed. He periodically checked in on all of them, somehow becoming a neutral counsel to which they all vented. He noticed a packed duffle sitting at her feet. “Are you leaving?”

“I don’t know what else to do, Cas.” She looked up to him with barely contained tears in her eyes. “They keep blaming themselves and fighting. I want to tell them it’s not their fault. I want to tell them I’m fine. But I feel like my being here is only making it worse for them.” Her tears began to fall then and Cas hugged her, letting her cry into his shoulder.

“You should talk to them, tell them.” He made her eyes meet his then as he wiped away her tears. “They need to hear it from you.”

“Everytime I look at them, I just see shame and guilt in their eyes! They can’t even look at me without...without…”

“Y/N, they love you.”

“No. I know they care about me, or did. But they don’t love me, Cas.”

“I assure you that they do. They both do, very much. Go talk to them and if you still feel like leaving, I’ll make sure you get wherever you need to go safely.”

Y/N closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She knew she needed to talk to them. She couldn’t just disappear without a word. She owed them more than that. She loved them more than that. She nodded, giving Cas a smile before standing to head to her door. She heard the rustle of feathers and turned to see Cas gone before she opened her door, intent on finding the brothers and sorting this all out.

“Dean, we can’t keep doing this to ourselves! Your gonna drink yourself to an early grave, and I’m not much better here.” Sam pleaded, exhausted from going over this again and again.

“Would serve me right.” Dean grumbled, finishing his second glass of whiskey thus far.

“Don’t say that, Dean. It wasn’t you-”

“It was me, Sam!” Dean roared, standing from the library table, his eyes launching fierce glares at his younger brother.  “I was a demon, yes. But it was still all me. I did this! To you! To HER!” He pointed towards the bedrooms before catching a glimpse of movement from the corner of his eye. He and Sam stared wide-eyed at Y/N, standing across the library from where they were seated, looking timid. Dean’s heart fell at the sight of her and he quickly looked away, refilling his glass.

“Can we talk?” She finally spoke, grateful her voice was strong and clear. “Please?” She walked up to where they were sitting, a few feet of distance between them. Both brothers glanced at her, then to each other, before dropping their gazes to look at nothing in particular.

“Look,” Y/N pulled out a chair and sat, her posture tall and confident as she let her eyes wander between the two of them, “I know this situation sucks.” Dean scoffed, finishing off his whiskey with a hiss and bite of his lip before refilling it once more. “But we can’t just keep going on, fighting or suffering in silence!”

Sam chanced a look at her then, seeing Dean was still intently focusing on his glass. He let out a long sigh before he leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “You’re right.”

“And Dean...you can’t do this to yourself. You can’t keep drinking and beating yourself up. It wasn’t you. Not really.”

“You actually believe that?” Dean responded quietly, disgusted with himself.

“You would never hurt me or try to take advantage of me Dean. Neither of you would. I KNOW that.”

“Except,” Dean offered, finally meeting her eyes, “We did. Or rather, I did. Because Sam was under a spell. He wasn’t in control of himself. And we all remember who cast that spell on him, right?” His voice steadily rose with his anger as he continued. “And we all know who stripped you and tied you down and…” He curled his lips in disgust and anger once more. “You should hate me. You both should hate me.” He added, barely a whisper.

“I don’t hate you Dean!” Y/N protested, Sam quickly agreeing. Dean shook his head, trying to fend of her words. “I can’t hate you because...because I love you Dean, both of you.”

The brothers gawked at her in surprise and shock. Sam’s mouth opened and shut several times, nothing more than squeaks and breaths falling from his lips as he struggled to speak.

“How can you say that? After what happened...how can you say that?!” Dean couldn’t believe what he was hearing. For so long, he had wanted to hear her say those words to him. Yet now he felt, more than ever, that he didn’t deserve it.

“You were right, you know...about me. You saw my thoughts Dean. You know it’s true, even if I was scared to admit it. Because I felt like wanting you both - loving you both - was selfish. And I felt like if I had you both, that it would make me a cheap whore or something.” She mumbled the last bit as she looked down at her lap in shame. “I just don’t want this to come between us. I don’t want there to be this stigma between all of us. I want us to get past this, together.” She paused, watching them as they took in her words. Sam’s eyes never left her and Dean refused to look at her. “I forgive you. I forgive both of you.”

“I don’t deserve your forgiveness.” Dean stood to leave and Y/N jumped from her chair, placing her hands on his chest.

“Too bad, cause you got it anyway.” She tried to smile and Dean still refused to look at her. “Dean.” She softly whispered his name placing a hand on his cheek and gently guiding him to look at her. He was fighting back tears as he finally met her eyes. “I forgive you.” She whispered, just for him.

Dean gave in then, letting the tears fall as he wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her neck. “Y/N I’m so sorry!” He cried out through his tears, his body shaking from finally releasing all he felt. “I’m so, so sorry!” She ran her hands through his hair, holding him close to her as he openly wept, no longer able to hold it all in. Sam rounded the table and approached them. Dean reached out to him, hugging his brother close. “Sam, I-”

“I know, Dean.” Sam held his brother tighter. “I know.” Sam reach out an arm, bringing Y/N into the hug as well.

“Well, glad we got that sorted.” Y/N smiled, trying to lighten the mood. Dean and Sam both laughed, despite themselves, grateful that there seemed to be a light at the end of this very dark tunnel.

“What made you finally come talk to us?” Sam asked as Dean wiped his face with his sleeves.

“Uh...well...Cas came and talked to me. I was gonna leave…” Both brothers heads shot in her direction, pain reflected in their eyes once more, “I thought that I was the problem, that my being here made things harder for you.”

“No, Sweetheart. Not at all. You’re...you’re everything to us...to me.” Dean’s eyes softened as he looked over her features.

“We love you, Y/N” Sam added, reaching out to hold her hand.

“And one day, when you’re ready - a-and if you want to - we’ll prove it to you.” Dean added, taking her other hand in his and kissing her knuckles. Y/N blushed from their words and gestures. If they loved her, truly loved her, she would give them the chance to show it.

PART 3 (FINAL PART)

TAGS: Please let me know if you would like to be added/removed:

Forevers:

@oneshoeshort

@winchesterprincessbride

@iamcmims

@roxyspearing

@godof-thunderthighs-ofbetrayal

@reigningqueenofwords

@mogaruke

@ellen-reincarnated1967

@speakinvain

@shotgunintheimpala

@atc74

@sterekloveaffairs

@winsister91

@mrs-meghan-winchester

@chook007

@maui137

@growningupgeek

@goldenolaf25

@esoltis280

@hobby27

@sis-tafics

@arryn-nyxx

@x-waywardaf-x

@starry-chaos

@shann-the-artist-moon

@sandlee44

@lucywinchester2000

@emoryhemsworth

Dean Winchester:

@spn-dean-and-sam-winchester

@ruprecht0420

@troubletrumble

@angelsandwinchesters

@oreosatmidnight

@allethalove

@yourvoiceislikearose

#sofreddie #tainted love #dean winchester #sam winchester #reader-insert #castiel #spn #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #angst #fluff

[topazslut]

all the things I can never feel the same way [choni one shot]

This is my first fanfiction for this ship I love them a lot. This is kinda weird but I kinda like it.. idk? let me know what you think everything is appreciated. It will be on ao3 soon I lost my account and had to apply for a new one anyways. sorry if theres any grammar mistakes its about 3000 words and I'm kinda new to writing

[Summary]

Looking back on events in Toni’s life when she felt the presence of her mother and the moments she realises she can never experience life peacefully 

or;

In which Toni spirals over the years and Cheryl just can’t pick up the pieces

//

Toni is nine years old when she receives her first serious injury.

Two broken fingers and a hairline fracture upon her wrist. She doesn't cry.

Instead, she remains staring, empty, at the new arrivals adorning her body. There's a thick, white cast cradling her appendages and Toni hate's it. It's much too tight, juxtaposing her very loose clothing donated to her by neighbours of Sunnyside.

"Awesome! Is it really broken?" A young Fangs says in awe as he and Sweetpea approach her. He continues his gaze as Sweetpea rests his bicycle against a tree by her uncles trailer.

"Yup. I can't even get the cast wet or anything" Toni replies, trying to reciprocate the energy her best friends were radiating.

"I still can't believe you punched that guy, it was so cool!" Sweetpea perks up, his mouth forming into a bright smile, albeit full of gaps.

Toni looks up at him hastily. They're proud of her. She's confused as all she can feel is an overwhelming guilt.

Guilt for lashing out, guilt for hurting someone, guilt for burdening her uncle with a hospital bill due to lack of insurance. She looks upon her injury and feels nothing -except- a hatred for herself. She tunes out as the boys start rambling on about all the activities they plan to do tomorrow after school.

All Toni can think about is how this would have been if her parents had been here. She clenches and unclenches the remaining fingers not encased in a weakened cement, they shake and the process is strenuous.

The more she does it, the more she swears she can feel the last time her mother ever held her hand. The last time she felt her father's grip as she held onto him whilst sitting upon his shoulders.

In this moment, Toni wants nothing more than to have her mom kiss her forehead and tell her that everything will be ok. But that can't happen anymore. And it never will.

She's brought out of her thoughts by Sweetpea.

"-and then my mom said we could all sleep over at mine, how about it, Toni?"

"Uh, I have to ask my uncle" She mumbles, picking herself off the ground and trudging lazily into her trailer.

"Oh, okay. Still gonna ride to school tomorrow with us?" Fangs retorts, noticing Toni's glum exterior.

"Can't." She replies and holds up her cast wearily. Before either of the boys can reply she slams the trailer door shut and makes her way to the couch.

"What did I say about slamming that damn door!" She hears her uncle bellow from the next room. Toni hangs her head down, as if to shut the rest of the world out. Finally she begins to let the tears fall that she had locked inside her for months. She wept for her parents, wept for the life that would no longer be hers. This was her reality now. This was how it was.

//

She's fourteen when she becomes a serpent.

She's surrounded by so many faces, so many eyes, so many smiles. She's overwhelmed as she looks upon a group of dirty old men smirking hungrily at her. She still feels guilty. Toni looks upon her hands, glances upon the new scars that cover the old. They don't look like -feel- like her hands anymore. They haven't for a while.

She gets down from the tattered stage and is greeted by an intense force that takes her by surprise.

"You're one of us now, Tiny. How does it feel?" Sweetpea questions, releasing her from his grasp.

It's then that Toni finally takes everything in. This dirty bar that's been essentially her home for the last years, her many friends, now her family that she's grown up with. Every stain that laced the windows, every torn up, battered floorboard, every memory that she could conjure up in the moment. Toni inhales. She looks up at Sweetpea, still smiling lazily at her. Then at her hands once more and back to Sweetpea.

"Good. I feel.. good." She starts to smile, maybe to make him happy, maybe for herself. She can't really tell. She hasn't been able to for a while.

"Atta girl!" He practically yells and she feels herself become trapped in the atmosphere. Taken over by the many faces within the bar as the night presses forward. Drinks are passed and sloppy conversations are made. Toni feels loved, she knows she's loved, yet doesn't know why she feels so sequestered.

//

Deja vu.

That's what she feels as she enters her girlfriends house. She's lost in her own mind again. It happens a lot more frequently now. She sits down and feels calmed by the constant ticking of the grandfather clock. Nana Rose is positioned in front of the TV and Toni is comforted by the little red light emitted from it.

She feels someone take her hand. It stiffens, something that doesn't happen often. She can't understand why she's feeling like this. She wants to believe she has everything she could have ever desired, yet she doesn't feel them the way she once used to. Toni wants the world for herself but only if she can have it the way she once felt it.

"TT, you were gone a while, are you ok?" Cheryl inquires, her thumb circling over Toni's bruised knuckles. She sighs at how detached her girlfriend has been recently. Cheryl tucks a strand of Toni's pink hair behind her ear. The gesture is so gentle, so full of love, Toni feels herself become grounded. She has to physically fight the tears threatening to spill. She loves this girl so much. She want's to give her everything, she just can't understand the things people have done to her. Toni believes she see's things differently to others. Maybe that's why she feels so isolated.

"I love you" Toni says, very lackluster but her eyes screaming novels.

Cheryl's taken aback slightly. This isn't her Toni. She complies nonetheless. "I love you too, Toni". She takes her fingers gently under Toni's chin and cranes her forward as she places her lips upon hers. She feels Toni start to increase her pace, her hands coming to cup Cheryl's face. Eventually though, Cheryl finds herself breaking the kiss. She looks into Toni's eyes, reeling in the shared moment. Everything feels frozen and the girl in front of her is almost unrecognisable. The fuzziness of the TV is prominent and the white noise in the room is deafening. Cheryl wants to cry for her girl, nothing and everything is the same. There's an uncomfortable nostalgia in the room and Cheryl feels overwhelmed by the melancholy. She's confused yet everything still makes sense.

"I'm sorry" Toni breaks the silence. She looks down at the floor, refusing to meet Cheryls gaze. Once again she finds herself feeling guilty, feeling like she's let the ones she loves the most down. Cheryl, Sweetpea, fangs. Her parents.

"What for, baby?" Cheryl asks, kissing her forehead and taking hold of her hand.

Deja vu.

Toni feels everything right now. She clenches her eyes tight as she feels the sensations take over her hand.

"I can't tell you right now.. I don't have the words" She whispers.

The two girls stare into each other's eyes, a soft serenity tainting the atmosphere, everything is lukewarm.

//

Cheryl's in class.

Everyone's talking and laughing and being teenagers. She watches as Veronica and Archie give each other wistful glances accompanied by half smiles, as if they're thinking about the same thing and talking through looks. Betty and Jughead are sat next to Cheryl. They're casually chatting among each other, almost everyone in the room is. Cheryl can't wait for the lesson to be over.

After an eternity, the bell rings. Cheryl finds Veronica making her way over to her.

"Hey Cher, I haven't seen much of you recently, how’ve you been?" She asks, making light conversation.

"You see me at cheer practice almost everyday, Veronica. Or is your memory already failing you" She keeps the undertones of her attitude. Business as usual.

"You know what I mean" Veronica gives her a smirk. "Come have lunch with us, I promise we won't bore you to death"

"That's a heavy promise, especially considering these lunch plans involve cousin Betty, I assume?"

"Hey!" She hears Betty drawl

Veronica smiles and takes her arm, linking it with her own. They gang make their way over to the cafeteria and find themselves a table. The scene is what to be expected. All the different cliques gathered in their own areas. Cheryl smiles at the fact she has more than one she can fit into. These guys, and the serpents. She relishes in her family, Northside and South. She finds herself glancing at the serpents table. They all seem to be absorbed in a hearty laughter. It makes her heart swell. Sweetpea and Fangs seem to be in a heated discussion, worry plastering both their faces. Toni being know where to be seen.

Her attention is sparked by Betty asking her something.

"How is Toni, Cheryl. She's been a bit MIA" The whole table unanimously agrees.

"What?" Cheryl replies, a bit lost in the conversation she hasn't been listening to these last five minutes.

"I'm just saying we haven't really seen much of Toni, has she even been to school recently" Betty responds.

"Even at the trailer park she's kinda distant, meetings too" Jughead adds.

"TT is TT. She's fine, she's just doing her own thing. She has a lot on her plate right now." Cheryl says, fully knowing what she has just said was a lie. Toni wasn't fine, not by a long stretch. But she wasn't about to tell the scooby gang all this, not even when she didn't really know herself.

The gang look at her for a second, sort of taking it in but not really satisfied with the answer they were provided. Jughead looks back down at his food and resumes chomping. All of a sudden the sound of screaming deters the whole cafeteria from their previous doings.

"Fuck you, dumbass!" A voice screeches. There's a blunt noise accompanying it followed by the sounds of punches ricocheting off the lockers. The gang rush to see what's happening. Cheryl's eyes widen upon the scene. Before her stands her tiny girlfriend beating the shit out of some guy. He's stood with his back to a locker, a seeping crimson pouring from his nose and other bruises beginning to litter his face. Cheryl stands frozen at the scene, Archie eventually running in to break it up.

"Get off me, you asshole!" Toni screams, almost completely unaware of the gathering of students around her. She locks eyes with Cheryl, and it's then that she feels herself come back to reality. Toni runs -sprints- to the front doors of the school. Unsure of what to do Cheryl stands there confused once more.

"Fucking crazy ass bitch. Dumb serpent slut, I didn't even do nothing, bitch just went crazy" She hears the boy say.

Cheryl looks around the room, some of the students laughing, others stood with their phones out, trying to capture any remaining aftermath.

"Cheryl" Veronica quietly breaks her from her thoughts. "Go" She follows up with. Cheryl, understanding what she has to do feels her feet move, before she knows it she's outside, searching for her pinkhaired, five foot three girlfriend. Cheryl sees her sat on a bench by the football field. She silently makes her way over to her, unsure of what to say she just places herself next to Toni, offering a shared, understood support. They sit like that for a while. It isn't until Cheryl looks upon Toni's hands that she breaks the silence.

"You're bleeding, TT" Toni looks at her hands, one shaking significantly more than the other. She reaches out for Cheryl who quickly obliges. They both stand up and start to walk, aimlessly.

"Why, Toni? What is going on with you?" Cheryl asks bleakly, she wants nothing more than to help the girl she loves oh so much.

Toni clears her throat, her voice still comes out hoarse and broken. "I- I don't know. It's just easy"

"What's easy?" Cheryl responds

"That.. this" Toni holds up her bloody, broken hand, as if it were to explain everything to Cheryl.

Cheryl sighs once more, Toni taking her over to a tree. She begins to kiss her, peppering them generously around her neck and back to her lips. It's hollow, deposed. It's missing something and Cheryl can feel it. No longer once full of the passion it once harboured, yet Toni showed no signs of stopping. Cheryl finds herself having to break yet another kiss.

"-Toni, Toni s-stop, I-." Cheryl tries to gently position her girlfriend off of her.

"You what, Cheryl? Don't you want me? Don't you love me!?" It comes out demanding and angry. Cheryl has never seen this side of her girlfriend before

"What!? I- of course I do Toni, it's just.. let- let me take you to the hospital" Cheryl offers before she feels Toni slide away from her and begin to walk off, regardless of direction.

"My hand is fine!" She hears Toni yell as she walks further and further away.

"It's your mind I'm worried about" Cheryl mumbles to herself as she watches Toni fade away into the distance.

//

She doesn't know how she's managed to find herself here, but she has.

Some crappy Southside club that she's been able to sneak into. The walls are etched in mold and are wearing away with age. There's little light. It's encompassed by an overall gloomy atmosphere and Toni hates it. She hates everyone here. Currently she’s in the process of flirting with a middle-aged man who was incessant on calling her "sweetheart" to see if she could get him to buy her a drink. After various successful attempts she was growing tired and was in search of more, needed more.

"What are you looking for, Sweetheart" A Ghoulie approaches her, she recognises him (barely) and she informs him on her situation.

"Yeah? Well I got just what you need" He presents a handful of little sticks that Toni knows oh too well.

"Jingle-Jangle?" She looks hesitant.

"I promise ya" He gives her an eager smile.

Toni doesn't need much more convincing. She doesn't care at this point and will try anything. She hands him the money and makes her way over to a corner. She anxiously looks around at everyone at the club. They're sloppily dancing and there's horrific music blaring throughout the place. Toni pops it into her mouth and downs her drink she was milling with for the last ten minutes.

She starts to feel the effects quickly.

As the night goes on she continuously takes JJ whilst simultaneously drinking. Not good, she knows, but she feels alive. Like everything that she usually experiences starts to have layers. And each layer she understands as well as the last, all adding up to the overall thing. Everything's much more intense but because of this new understanding that the drugs have given her, Toni feels like a genius. She understands everything so very well. All the words that have lingered in her head, she finally has them. If she could give someone this feeling, they would understand everything. Everything she has felt over these last years. Everything.

If Cheryl were here right now, Toni would be able to explain her head, her mind. Toni can't stop smiling. She's dancing and she's feeling and she's living her life. The way she assumes it was intended to be felt. Toni looks down at her hands, both as scarred as each other and she clenches them. As she releases, she feels the absence of her mothers grip. Toni panics. She feels herself come undone, starting to hyperventilate and look wildly at this horribly crowded bar filled with sleazy drug addicts and people she promised herself she'd never associate with. She clambers around, holding one hand to her chest, the other she's clenching and unclenching furiously, trying to feel her mother on her, trying to feel anything as she feels herself slipping.

She finds herself on the bathroom floor. She doesn't care that she's most likely kneeling in piss and needles, anything is better than that nightmare. Suddenly, it all becomes too much, too overwhelming as Toni feels the toll of the alcohol and drugs. She's still tripping but it's mixing with her come down and she's in an awkward in between stage that's messing too much with her body and mind. She's leaning over the toilet and violently vomiting into it, tears begin staining her cheeks and her hands tremble as she clutches the toilet. She's completely debilitated and she'd give anything to not be alive.

She hears the door open but can't bring herself to look up.

"Who do you need me to call?" A gruff woman’s voice sounds and bounces off the tiles in the stalls. Toni barely turns herself but recognises that it's the bartender who had given her sorrowful looks for most of the night. Toni can't speak.

She's not sure how but she's now sitting on an uncomfortable seat that's just beside the entrance of the club. She can't move and she realises this is her come down.

The door opens and Toni hears a familiar "Jesus Christ, Toni". Her head tilts ever so slightly in the direction and she see's her girlfriend, face flushed and slightly out of breath, her red hair tousled and her eyes sad. All Toni can do is swallow and try to move her hands.

Cheryl looks down at the girl sat on the bench. She looks at her gaunt features and the black, hollow bags under her eyes. Was Toni always this skinny? Cheryl thought to herself. She analyses the rest of her face and all Cheryl can think is tired. Toni looks so tired.

//

They're asleep in Cheryl's too large canopy bed.

There's three more weeks left until the end of the semester and Toni isn't sure how she feels. She can't sleep. She looks at Cheryl and thinks to herself that she has never seen anyone this beautiful. She loves her. And she would do anything for.

"-mm TT, go to sleep" She hears Cheryl mumble.

"I can't" Toni's voice barely sounds out.

"Where's your head, baby" Cheryl starts to sit up and Toni feels guilty that she's pulled her from sleep.

"Everyone's left for a place I'm not fond of. I think I'm the only person who realises it"

Cheryl pulls Toni closer, both of them feeling each others breath. She kisses her forehead and says "Everything is going to be ok"

Toni feels herself break.

"Mommy" She sobs.  

#choni #choni fic #choni fanfic #choni fanfiction #Cheryl blossom #toni topaz #madeleine petsch #vanessa morgan #riverdale #riverdale fic

[beaflower77]

A Damsel Among A Brier In Winter

She backed away. Away from the turmoil, the unannounced, unprovoked altercation. Where had he come from? He was supposed to have gone, fled, expulsed. She was only there to touch the frozen roses, to feel their glass like fragility, their magical hidden brightness, witnessing both the wan, decay and renewal on the vines. She backed away, slowly, carefully, trying unsuccessfully to keep her facial emotions under lock and key. And as she past the middle of the garden, where the center of the fury erupted, was still broiling, the corner wall came into view. Turning, taking careful steps, treading lightly, keeping all wits about, Beatrice gave up and tore off. When hearing nothing bearing after her, she ran. Beatrice ran till she could run no more. The further away she became from the heat, the quicker her steps pounded, until she was finally rushing, escaping his emotional fuels and flames and dislike. Leaving the frozen roses to their demise and decay. And alone

Glorfindel had heard it all. Knowing he was accidentally eves dropping, keeping himself hidden, unawares from the other elf’s presence. It took all of his strength to keep himself composed and harnessed to the solid ground below. Arm, hand at his sword, ready to unsheathe and release, Glorfindel stood and listened as a barrage of rapid, hot words fired between the two. And anger and disgust built, squirreled its’ way round his heart, squeezing tight and tighter still.

“I did no such thing.,” she pleaded. “I didn’t. It was so long ago. Why are you even back? Why are you here? Why are you tormenting me?”  Ignoring Beatrice, “Did you not drop several provocative innuendos?,” the handsome elf suggested tightly, giving Beatrice a triumphant glare. “I seem to remember you telling me stories, and dropping teasing glances my way. And words. And such other evidences of your lust.” 

“No.,” Beatrice replied. “I mean. You seemed to like it.,” she felt cornered, trapped, sinking fast in wet, pulling quicksand. “I mean, I was only flirting, teasing. You responded positively!” Beatrice was not prepared for this onslaught, never concieving it was ever a possiblity to meet him again. He had been banished from Imladris for many years now. She had no mental, emotional preparation whatsoever for this assault. She had known in the far corners of her mind, this elf was never truly enamored of her. But he said otherwise many times over. What he had done to her emotionally, Beatrice only dared half a recollection, and even that much toppled her mind. Trying to think, mentally shielding herself, “You have been gone for a long time. You don’t really know me!,” she explained. “I am a nice person!! You are confusing me!” And Beatrice’s head spun like a top, berating herself, beating her spinning brains against every single corner there ever was in a sharp, sealed room. She looked for some sort of intellectual way out, but nothing was apparent enough. And she could not see the garden’s exit.

Every step of the way, every word, every thought, design, came out incorrectly. Beatrice inanely babbled, trying to verbally avenge herself, her behavior, her thinking from that time so long ago. Every moment then was a mistake. A disaster, collapse and calamity. She had tried. She had tried, but with no proficiency either then or now to clear and uncloud her thoughts and judgments. Her mindset guilty of wide blunders, misstatements and disastrous misjudgments. The elf had tortured Beatrice’s will and heart even then. But now, she was, in this moment, ensnared and entombed by his lurking, manipulative tricks. How had he returned? And without notice given to her? She wanted to run. Wanted to pick up, threw rocks, sticks at him. Yell, blame him. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to do much. For her eyes were pinned by his gaze, her feet as if lead and her heart, her heart fractured and divided itself, folding inward and became afraid of love once again. She did not want to hurt him, yet, she did.

The elf stiffly walked closer, emanating dramatic, intense, angry heat off his person. The garden’s snow crunched, squeaked beneath his boots. Beatrice stifled herself. Then, she hurled at him, “You left me on that cliff! You left me there! I liked you! I really, really liked you! You said you liked me! You said you loved me!,” pointing to the frosted, ruby roses, laying thickly within still green hedges. “That I was..like a rose..beautiful and sweet! And you hurt me! You left me there! Alone! Not even caring if I slipped, fell off or not! I could have fallen. And died. You just left! You knew I loved you!”  Looking up at him, hurt, anger, sorrow, hollow and hopeless, useless emotions rolled off her, emotions that couldn’t seep away, or hide into the frosted, frozen hard ground. “I really liked you. I thought, I thought you were different, special. I thought you were kind, but you are not! You never were! You are emotionally manipulative!,” Beatrice spat. Standing her ground, “And mean! And vengeful! And wrong!”

Huffing, the elf smiled, snared. “You are a slut. A filthy, human, slut. Waiting for anyone to notice you. To play. To ensnare in your wild, deceptive games.” Tossing his head up toward the pristine city walls, covered in layers of thick, white frosting, and snow crystal landscaping, “Why that Lord of an elf keeps you, I cannot fathom.” Roosleen’s mouth slithered, looking directly down at her, “It is because, perhaps, you make a good pet for him. It is not because he loves you. You do realize, don’t you? That elf lord could never love you.,” staring her down condescendingly. “It is but a falsity, a farce. You are, but a play toy, a tease, a human. A weak, pitiful, ungraceful human.” Beatrice’s face flinched. “Go away.,” she fiercely whispered. 

The crystals in Beatrice’s heart became like the frozen, piercing thorns from the roses, trapped within their own buds and folds. However, unlike the roses, her heart might not thaw and bloom in the spring as they would. And her disrespect and resentment grew.

Beatrice wanted to beat, hit him, hurt and maim him. She tried not to show this long lost elf her inside, hidden emotions, making her a mess, a destroyed wreck of a mess, but had she any verbal retort to defend herself against Roosleen? No. Not much. Back then, Beatrice had teased, flirted. But she thought, that was what one did, when one liked another. But that was so long ago. Why was he back? After so long? And he was wrong. Yet, his glare held her, glued her still, rooting her feet to the snow dusted ground. Letting him come closer, focusing his contempt of her being, hurling insults. Beatrice refused to back away, back down, cower before him or anyone else. So instead, she just stared, defenseless, wordless, and let her heart remain open, letting him rip her apart, and absorbed his torment, disrespect and disregard for her life. Beatrice absorbed his hate, but she did not permit him the will to break her in front of him. Yet again.

And Glorfindel seethed with smouldered wrath. And waited it out.

Nothing more had Beatrice to say, nothing more could she say. So she said the only thing that came to her mouth, “I really liked you.” Again, the disdainful elf sneered, “But why on Arda would I ever like…you?” Then, to send the bullet home, “I only pretended to enjoy you. I only bluffed. You were a curiosity. An intellectual, physical curiousity. However, you quickly bored me.” Beatrice could take no more. Losing the ability to search his eyes, his heart, finally seeing inside his fae, her guts wrenched. Beatrice needed to leave or a vomiting, distasteful mess she would become. She had let herself be laid bare and ripped apart enough, and now she was disgusted of both herself and him.

The high sweeping, smooth white steps came into sudden view. Beatrice ran up them, slipping, tripping, plunging over her silly dark skirts, bracing her body from a head long fall, hurting, skinning her wrists against stone and snow alike in the process. One of the guards quickly stepped down, assisting her, realigning her body with the earth. Waiting long enough to stand, readjust her bearings, grabbing, bunching her skirts, Beatrice ran the rest of the way up and up and up. With the guards looking after her, she left them perplexed and confused. And with that confusion, they became wary and watchful for further intrusions. One went to inform Lord Elrond.

Bolting through the chamber doors, Beatrice threw herself inside, startling Lindir from a friendly discussion with a friend. Looking up, startled, dismayed, Lindir rushed, scrambled before her. She tried to move past him. He was swifter, stronger. “Please.,” Beatrice pleaded, trying to keep some semblance of her emotional disarray and hurt contained. “Beatrice?!,” Lindir gave her with concern, puzzlement, holding her arms, body still.  Pleading, “Let me go.,” Beatrice squirmed within his grasp. “No.,” as his arms gathered her closer to his taller frame. “What has happened? What is it? What is happening?,” And the more Beatrice struggled for release, the more she desperately wanted his stability and security. Tonare, Lindir’s friend, stood, studied her, walked to their balcony, looked down in scrutiny. And found the source of her distress,  “Roosleen.,” he mouthed silently to Lindir’s questioning face. The shock, bewilderment, fury rose in the pit of Lindir’s stomach and his world ceased. No. Rooseleen was here. Here? Now? Why? Lindir would not release Beatrice this time.

Inside her heart, Beatrice felt Lindir’s wrath, but remained within his captivity and eventually gave up fighting for release. Instead, Beatrice decided to crumble. Lindir allowed it. To crumble, fall apart and become sick with disquiet and upheaval, as he held Beatrice tight, fighting against a heavy emotional tailspin of a downward spiral. Not again, if he could help it, Lindir vowed. This time, Lindir would have his revenge.

“What have you done?,” questioned, hissed Glorfindel, coming into view. Glaring this elf down, he tread across the path, making light prints to outlay the snowy ground, so quietly from his hidden place amongst frosted hedge and rose. Startled, coming out of his disgusted, revolted argument with Beatrice, the elf stared at Glorfindel with wary fright, keeping from admitting alarm. Gaining control, “What is it to you?,” Roosleen said slowly. “What were you doing there? Spying?” A standoff ensued.

Becoming informed of the malicious altercation between Beatrice and the expunged elf, Lindir and Tonare calmed Beatrice enough to drag the story out. This elf had reappeared twice in her lifetime and his being, his presence upset, unbalanced, and pulled from Beatrice the darkest, worst emotions, and perplexities hidden within. Each time laying claim to her heart and soul, destroying her, sabotaging, shattering Beatrice, and her mind to shards and pieces. Lindir, the others, had found her that dark, dirtied night, sheltered among the many crevices on a lone cliff, stealing herself from a long, depthless fall into the abyss and dark, foaming, wheeling waters below. Lindir had selflessly pulled her back, and back into life. A sheltered, contented, loving life with him. 

Now, as Beatrice dozed, Lindir with renewed strength, purpose and force strode the dim corridors to Elrond, with doom on his mind and judgment, verdict and death in his heart. “I will slay him.,” Lindir calmly seethed in judgment. “He will not leave here on foot.” And he readied, adjusting his sword and belt.

“How you could come back, enter this city without confession or atonement.,” Glorfindel placed with passion. “Twas easy.,” Roosleen replied. “I am known here. I am easily accepted.” And while the elf’s manner, disposition inwardly remained calm, he was extremely aware of Glorfindel’s anger and judgment. And, where Glorfindel’s hands lay. And his hands were not dangling before his sides. As his sword began to come unsheathed, the immediate garden was flanked with other elves, including Elrond. And Lindir.

“Roosleen.,” Elrond challenged. “I do not recall having invited your return.” Turning, swinging round swiftly, Roosleen started, stared before the city’s Lord. “I invited myself.,” Roosleen calmly, audaciously bantered back. Elrond took stock of the elf’s placement of hand on his sword, and knew sooner or later, an encounter would take place. “I am unaware of my elves escorting your presence here. You may not remain here.,” Elrond directed toward the ungovernable, unwanted elf, giving Roosleen one last opportunity to exit, unscathed. “I intend no lasting harm.,” Roosleen retorted, narcissictly. 

As the two elves exchanged glaring, dissing words, Lindir continued to frown, and glare against the repugnant elfs’ behavior. Moving, advancing between, betwix surrounding elves with ire and indignation, Lindir’s rage and resentment grew. With mounting words, arguing midst themselves, Lindir stepped in, issuing a proclamation of his own, “How dare you! How dare you return here! You, who have caused irreparable damage! You have not only caused such damage to this city, but to Beatrice, herself! What you did, there are no excuses for!,” and livid was Lindir’s mind. “If no one cuts you down, I will do so myself!,” Lindir hawked and threw throughout the pristine, frozen red rose garden. 

Elrond’s elves stood readied for word, swords drawn. The stance of Roosleen grew disturbed, pointing off in a distance, “What issues that woman had, she had long before I came along! She was a broken mess before I knew her! And know her, I did.” That tiny bite of a smile was enough. That smile, those words were just enough for Lindir and the others to hear and put up with. The bandying elves flared, bickered, hurled insults and excuses. And before the mess was over, Lindir’s sword was drawn.

As Lindir’s sword thrust and parried, Roosleen gained the upper hand. This was not fighting ground. This slippery, dirtied, snow dropped ground. Even though Lindir was suitable and befitting of sword play or a challenge, his anger and wrath was overtaking his ability to think correctly, or defensively circumvent Roosleen’s offensive movements, as dark boot fought against lighter boot. A mixing of snow encased each heel and toe. As one long thrust of sword and arm pushed Lindir’s sword, his body toward the ground, digging into dirt, another blow belittled him from above, stinging his arm. Righting himself, reigning emotions for one moment, only to lose control another moment, Lindir still managed to kick Roosleen just enough with the heel of his boot, scraping the inside of Roosleen’s shin, enough to sideswipe, but not fully overcoming him. Lindir was not used to or prepared to endure such spiteful fight.

Having an opening to kick dirtied snow into Lindir’s face, keeping him defenseless, Roosleen dodged, kicked Lindir in the ribs, the tender, vulnerable guts, again knocking him down, bruising, the muscles of his shoulder tearing, causing Lindir to grimace in frustration and pain. Roosleen, knowing he was opened for wounding, even a behind assault or multiple attack, but bent on purging this moment of an unendurable elf, drew his sword back, and overhead, aiming for Lindir’s neck. But stopped short.

Roosleen, his body, frozen in time, stopping all movement, letting his chest cave with a sudden loss of air, his torso tensed, braced itself for a collapse. His arms, in midair, did not release his sword yet. Another immediate, bone cracking slice and sound from behind, and Roosleen’s body buckled at the knees, heaving soundlessly into the shuffled snow, leaving his entire self exposed to the elves. And his arms dropped, as his knees buckled, silently skidding against the dirt. His face registered shock and ruin and pain.

Lindir, heaving, lifted his head in time to see Glorfindel raise his own sword. And heavily sent it careening against Roosleen’s neck, severing it completely. His head dumped silently to the ground, where it stilled. Lindir set his eyes on the dirtied, tarnished, red and white ground but a moment, knowing his life had been spared and saved. Closing his eyes, opening them, keeping his eyes fashioned on Glorfindel’s boots, Lindir tucked his head in and swallowed, closed his eyes, but a moment longer.

“Clean this up.,” Elrond fiercely commanded the elves, turning to leave, his face a mess of chaos. “No!,” Lindir pleaded. Turning, looking down upon Lindir, still kneeling, “My Lord.,” Lindir began, trying to breathe, “I will take care of it.,” he licked his lips, tightened, knitted his mouth shut. “Beatrice…will need to see this.” Elrond, glancing towards Roosleen’s body, took stock of Lindir, understood what he meant to do, nodded his assent and left.

Taking Beatrice, leading her by the hand, Lindir returned with her to the garden. Before leading Beatrice inside the center, “I mean to show you.,” Lindir suggested with wariness but determined. “Come with me.” Beatrice went, not with hesitation, trepidation but with dignified resignation. Wanting Beatrice to see the end, the finality of this issue of Roosleen, they both entered the garden. Standing within the circular pit of vipers she knew as rose bushes and hedges, Beatrice knowing all too well, understood exactly what she was about to bear witness to, however, not knowing if she wanted to see or not, she continued to blindly walk beside Lindir. Was it because, she just did not want to see this elfs’ body and demise and face the end, or just not see the honesty of the thing, and face the truth, uncertainty and pain it would bring to her heart?

Walking into the center of the clearing, rows of snow covered hedges surrounded the still wet, white and crimson ground, as well as Tonare and the few other elves standing by, waiting for Lindir’s command. Lindir stood before Beatrice and gestured down, “Do you see?,” Lindir asked her, looking down on the body. “Do you see now, Beatrice. It is over. Finished. No more shall this elf torment and degrade your honor.”

Beatrice looked at what was left of Roosleen. She felt sorry for him, for her, the situation, the whole catastrophe. It was truly a sad thing. Why did he return? What useless, senseless thing would cause him to return? And why now? She nodded thickly, dumb and mute, while Lindir talked on. No tears, no remorse, not much emotion did Beatrice let enter her heart or mind, just yet. In time, Lindir knew she would cry and sniffle the nights away. Turning, keeping numb, Beatrice followed her gaze, looked up at Lindir.  “Beatrice.,” Lindir started. “Do you remember telling me your stories of fairies?,” he asked. “Fairy tales.,” Beatrice corrected. Nodding, “Yes. Fairie tales. Some were of fair maidens, damsels in distress, you called them.,” and Lindir pointed out to Beatrice. “You were a damsel in distress Beatrice. Once, you were. Now no more. No longer are you that damsel. Now, Beatrice. Now, you have been rescued, recovered. Now.,” he continued, “You must live your life in independence, not dependency. Not sorrow, nor pain. Do you understand? No one can harm you here.” Beatrice pulled so much air into her lungs, she thought she would expand, explode and burst as like a piñata, But unlike a joyous, festive, colorful piñata, Beatrice released only dirtied, lung filled monoxide with a heavy sigh. And understood, agreed and nodded.

Lindir nodded off to Tonare and the others to carry away the body of Roosleen, the recalcitrant elf and looked longingly at Beatrice, with more dignity than pity and placed his hand on her face and held her gaze. “No one will harm you.,” he promised. 

Roosleen was someone Beatrice did indeed love, had true, genuine feelings for, feelings of kindness, respect and joy towards. But that was then, before he willingly informed her of his game, his farce and disgraceful sham. Knowing it was better for the sake of all, that this issue was finished, done with, destroyed, her heart broke and Beatrice began to feel the desperate loss of something which once was and could have been, had Roosleen been different. Roosleen was gone, but Lindir was not. Lindir had fought for her, her value, her honor, her being and life. She harbored no anger, resentment nor hatred toward Roosleen, only…..loss. Loss. And release. 

The garden, with its’ soft yet bright winter roses, petals closed, not one red rose in bloom. All roses curled, frosted and tight lipped against the wind and snowdrops, all cozied up for the winter. Every so often, a petal here or there would drop, break off. And Beatrice would walk there from time to time, amidst them, touching here, there, and she remembered.

#Elven Fiction #Lindir Fiction #Glorfindel Fiction #Protectors Of Beatrice's Heart #Red Winter Roses #A Garden Covered In Snow Is Magical #A Damsel In Distress No Longer Remains In Distress Once She Is Rescued #Beatrice Fiction

[all-sortsa-stuff]

This life, part 9

Pairing: Loki and Reader

Word Count: 2905

Warning: Some angst

 Part 8

It felt as though there was nowhere to go as you ran.  Everything at once, pushing on you from all sides and you could not take it any longer. You urged your horse faster than he had been in some time.  At first, you were not aware of where you were going.  The echoes of memories and fears drown out everything else.  When you found yourself in the stables of the palace there was only your chambers you could go, praying no one would disturb you. As you ran through the halls, you heard your name called from behind you.

“[Y/N], my dear what is the matter?”  Turning towards the voice you could not miss the concern there.  Just as Frigga could not miss the tear stains upon your cheeks. “[Y/N] what is it?”

Both of her hands coming to rest on your cheeks as she searched your eyes.  “Please, my lady I beg you… let me to my chambers.  I cannot do this.  I cannot…”

“Calm yourself, my child. We have let you alone far too much. I will not allow it at this moment. Come with me.”  There was no asking in her tone as she pulled you through the halls.  The grip on your arm would bruise in the morn.  Frigga brought you to her personal chambers, which by the late hour you would have thought the king would be there.  You stopped shaking your head, pulling back on your arm.

“My Queen please, I do not wish…”

“The King is gone this night.  After his duties have finished he will return in the morning.  Come now.”  Your body relented, allowing her to guide you towards her personal sitting area.  She sat you in one of the large chairs then handed you a stein filled with cool water.  “Once you are calm you will tell me what is in your mind, child.  I have broken my own heart allowing you time to heal, but I will do it no longer.”

Frigga took her own seat across from you, patiently to wait.  You sipped at the water a few moment letting the tears dry, though you knew more would follow once you spoke.  Once the words started, there was no force that would be able to stop them.  As you spoke, you could not bear to look her.  She heard every moment, every pain and fear that had occurred.  Then you told her about Loki.  Only one other person knew of what had occurred between you and Thor had told no one.

Frigga listened quietly allowing you to speak of the shared night long ago with him.  Of the words, you spoke to Thor of ending your arrangement and then of the cruelness you had endured from Loki.  How it all spiraled out of control before he disappeared.  She heard the pain you felt at hearing he was alive and finding him on Midgard.  It felt as a blade through her heart hearing the pain she herself caused when you were forced to sift through Loki’s mind.  That would haunt her far longer than you would ever know.

At last, she heard of his words to you this night.  His confession of love and plea for forgiveness for everything he had done to you. By the last word, the Queen had her own tears upon her cheeks.  “My dearest girl, so much wrong in such a young life.  Some of it from me, even when I vowed to protect you after your parents were so vile.”

Frigga rose from her seat to move beside you.  Pulling you against her, wrapping her arm about your shoulders, she kissed your head. “I wondered when my son would finally speak his heart to you.  However, I did not know of his misconceptions of you and Thor.  His temper always has caused more trouble than it aided.  What is in your heart, [Y/N]?  Do you share the feelings with him?  Or has something changed so much in you that it is no longer there?”

It was difficult to think of such thing now.  So long had you buried away the possibility that it was not something you felt as you could share now.  Did you even feel the same?  You did not know.  Your inability to answer made her force you to look to her eyes.  “Child listen to me a moment.”

With an exhausted sigh, you turned to face her.  The sad smile that crossed her lips, was sorrow for you.  You had seen it often in your life.  “Ever since you were a child there has been a light within you that everyone was drawn to.  People listened when you spoke or laugh or sang.  There was no one who could resist you.  I knew my son loved you.  There was no way I could not.  So many times I tried to reason with Odin, make him see the better match you two would be. You know his stubbornness when his mind is set.  He refused and I knew the time would come for Loki to watch you marry his brother.  It would have crushed him and me with him.”

You attempted to turn from her gaze, but she would not allow it.  Her hand firmly on your chin forcing you to hear her.  “This is a different time now, [Y/N].  You both are free to love whom you wish.  There is no denying all of the pain that has surrounded both you and him.  Now there is a chance of happiness.  Do not let it slip from your grasp.  Allow your heart to heal with his and I know there would be no regrets from either of you. Think on it?”

Nodding slowly, you agreed. Thinking about it would harm nothing in this moment.  Though you did not want to think, you wanted to sleep.  Perhaps with the dawn you would have a clearer mind and heart.  The Queen sent you to your chambers, instructing you to sleep.  Once in your bed it was some time before your mind allowed your body to rest.  Finally, in the early hours of the morning you were able to let Somnus take you.

 With the morn, you felt rested but so many things weighed upon you, still.  As you left your chambers, Thor found you.  “[Y/N] fair day.  You look more rested than you have since you returned.”

With a dip of your head your greeted your friend.  You could tell, though, he had something else to say.  “Fair morn, my friend.  I rested yes.”

He followed you as you passed him, walking towards the great hall.  For the first moments, neither spoke another word until he held to your arm. “[Y/N], I spoke with Loki.”

Looking up to his eyes, you waited for him to continue.  “He spoke of what he said last eve.  [Y/N] this is what you desired so long ago.  It is the time for your love.  Do not push him away.”

Their mother influenced them more than they would know.  It allowed for some humor as a quiet laugh escaped your lips.  “Your mother said the same, last eve.  Let me have my time to find my own thoughts about it.  Not from her or you or even Loki.  Mine.”  Thor frowned. In his mind, you two belonged to one another and would make the other happy.  For his brother and his closest of friends, that is all he wanted, happiness together.

“I will let you have your time though may I ask you to think on something else as well?”

“Of course my friend.” A true smile crossed your features as your crossed your arms over your chest.

“If something were to happen once more to Loki, but this time he was killed, never to cross your path again.  What would be in your heart then?”  That was not something you expected, especially from Thor.  You watched as he parted giving you time to consider his words.

As you wandered through one of the palace gardens those words struck your heart.  The thought you would never see Loki again brought forth a pain you had not expected.  When Thor had told you Loki was indeed alive you felt a great pressure lift from your heart. You were happy that he was well though his deeds had lessened it a great deal and it angered you that he had deceived you for so long.  Now was different.  He was well and had spoken his love for you.  Something you had wished after the night that had changed both of your worlds.

Quietly you laughed to yourself.  Of all people, Thor had made your mind clearer.  There would have to be a discussion with Loki first.  Your heart started to beat quickly within your chest, forcing you to stop your pacing.  There was fear now.  Fear of being hurt by him once more.  The devastated mess he had left you had taken much time to mend.  No… You would take the chance this time.  Allow yourself to open your heart to Loki to see what could become of it.  If he hurt you again, you were gut the bastard and leave his entrails as a warning to anyone else who might try the same.

You went in search for him, hoping it would not be as difficult a task as it had been the previous eve.  As you entered the palace again, one of the messengers approached, bowing in deep respect. “My Lady I have a message for you.”

“A message? From who?” The man shook his head handing the bit of parchment to you.

“I know not but was told it came from the Far Keep.”  He left with another bow as you gripped it as though it would fall to dust if you did any different.  The Far Keep was where your father had been held for all these years.  Perhaps they were writing to speak of his death.  That was the only explanation, because he certainly would not wish to speak with you.  Opening it slowly your recognized the neat writing of the former Captain.

My little [Y/N],

The Overseer allowed me to write to you so I may know you are well. Your victories have been heard even here in the Keep.  You name spoken with such reverence.  Word of your capture as well as your return made it here as well.  I have no right to ask anything of you my girl, but I merely wish to know you are safe and well.  I think of you daily and miss the time before my failure as your father.  My hope is to tell you this, one day when I can see your face.

Your father, Theinn.

 You were starting to believe the Gods enjoyed your torment.  He wanted to see you.  The last time you had seen him he cursed your name with such a hateful tone.  Now he seemed remorseful.  Your mind had been made up before you took the first step towards your chambers.  The fall of eve was coming and there was little time to leave before you were noticed to be missing.  With your dark blue cloak over your shoulders, covering your long hair you went into the night towards the Keep.

 Four hours had passed before you arrived at the Far Keep.  The guards positioned in the front barred you from entering until you told them who you were.  Instantly they took to one knee in respect.  You were brought to the Overseer who was surprised at your arrival especially at that hour of night.  “Lady [Y/N], it is a great honor to stand before you.  Are you here after the letter?”

“Yes, Overseer.  I wish to see my father.”  The man had kind gray eyes that looked down from his great height.

“If you were any other I would not allow it, my Lady.  But for the victor of the Last Battle and the Captain of the Defenders I shall bring you myself.”  Smiling up to him, you bowed.

“Thank you, I gladly accept.”  As he brought you up to the cells of those held within, you could hear the screams and hollers as you passed by.  Ignoring them all you held your head high as you walked beside the Overseer.  Once to the level your father was on the Overseer asked one of the guards to bring a chair so that you could rest while you spoke with Theinn.  Standing in front of one of the clear prison dividers you saw the man who you once had thought could do no wrong.

“[Y/N]… I… I must be having a vision.  Is it you?” Stepping forward you looked closely at him.  His hair was longer, the same color as yours though streaked with bits of gray.  Deep creases about his face with a heavy beard that looked similar to Odin’s.  

“Yes, I received your letter, much to my shock I assure you.”  He laughed quietly shaking his head as one of the guards brought your chair. The guard sat it behind you as the Overseer took your hand to guide you to sit.

“My Lady, I will give you time with your father.  One of the guards will be close if you need assistance.”  Bowing before he took his leave, walking down the long corridors in his heavy treaded boots.

“I did not believe you would come.  Not to this place, not ever.  You are too beautiful for this wretched hole. Yet here you are.”  His fingers ran over his chin and beard.

“Yes I am here, father.” You pulled the hood down off your hair.

“Then I will say what I have wished to say for so long.  My dearest [Y/N] I wished I had never said those cruel things to you.  I wish I had never turned my back on my only child. It is unforgiveable but know my sincerity in these words.  I am sorry. One day I hope you would find the bit in your heart to consider it and forgive me.”  It was not hard to see he meant the words.  The man that stood before you opening himself was the one who had raised you.  

“There has been too much anger and darkness in my life since you were brought here.  I wish it gone from my soul.  I forgive you, father.  I know you are not the same man now that you were then.  I can feel it.”  Theinn paced back and forth before you as a large smile lit his features.  There might have been tears within his eyes but it was difficult to see with his movements.

“Father… I have something to ask.  I wish truth, please.”

“[Y/N] I would never lie to you.  I have never lied to you and now is no different.”  Studying his face, you could not find dishonesty.

“Why did you and mother bind my abilities?”  His eyes narrowed in confusion at the question.

“Abilities?  I know not what you speak of, my girl.”  Canting your head, you looked over his stance. The relaxed way he held himself, loose movements with both arms about his sides.  Did he not know?  

“I have abilities that were bound as I grew.  When I found them out after you and mother disowned me I nearly killed Thor in my inability to control them.”  You father’s eyes went wide as a realization came to him.

“She told me…  The tonic…  You would scream your disgust daily.. She said… [Y/N] I did not know, I swear by the Allfather.  My mother had abilities and your mother prayed our children would never have them. I did not know she would go to such lengths to hide them.  My girl, I beg you to believe me.”  It sounded as something your mother would do.  Hiding such a thing from all including her husband.

“I believe your words. One day perhaps I would know why. But now would not be the time.”  The rest of the night, you spoke with him. He asked many questions of your adventures and journeys.  It amazed him how much you had accomplished in the time he had been imprisoned.  He even spoke of his remorse at how he refused to allow you to train.  Theinn could see you were made for the fight.  

Parting was difficult for you both.  With a promise to return soon you went into the night on the journey back to Asgard. As you entered the great hall on the trek back to your chambers you were met with a group of rather upset people. Odin spoke first.

“Child we have worried, this day, that you had been taken once more.  No sign or word of where you had gone.”  Loki stood at the back of the group looking you over with relief.  You seemed without harm.

“I had something that needed my attention far from here.  After I have slept I will tell you of it.”  Walking through the group, you paused before Loki.  Not daring to say a word for fear you would run, he stood silent looking down at you.  Taking the chance before you lost nerve you stood upon your toes, pressing your lips lightly against his.  Your hand gently on his cheek.  The gaze of many eyes upon you.  “We will also speak after I have slept.  Fair eve to all.”

 Part 10

Tags: @feelmyroarrrr  @bolontiku  @aquabrie   @malindacath  @almondbuttercup @frenchfrostpudding @independentgirl   @lokislonelylady  @hollycornish @magpiemischief  @myclock  @xxxprettydeadgirlxxx  @mariadoghorses  @red-writer13 @magellan-88  @mirhem    @melkor--dreams  @ex-bookjunky @vagabondfairy  @cheyowl  @kindaace @whiskeyandwashitape  @xxxeatyourh3artoutxxx  @thehotforhiddles  @greenhands5 @studyblrlt  @marvelousmissfit  @saraholdtheh972  @sonia7atm @rosesandmischief

#loki #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #reader x loki #loki odinson #loki odinson x reader #loki of asgard #loki fanfiction #loki fan #loki fic #loki fandom #loki friggason #marvel #marvel fic #marvel fanfiction #marvel fandom #fanfic #fanfiction #this life

[vesperlionheart]

Obelisk: Jasper

The buckles of her corset stung where they pressed against the freshly blooming bruises. Sakura found it hard to twist without the skin between her bonds crying out in pain. She needed to loosen the whalebone garment, but in her current position, movement was more than just a little difficult. She shuddered another breath and whimpered at how sore it left her.  She had been kicked down one measly flight of stairs on an decommissioned colonial class airship, locked in a closet, left in the dark, and already she was starting to cave. She bruised so easily when she was malnourished. Even with the rainwater leaking through the filtration nets, she had little to drink during her stow away, and now that she had been captured, she doubted that was about to change.

Things were bad once more, and the fact that everyone had warned her about the dangers of stowing away on such a mediocre vessel made her shame taste all the more bitter. It was hard to stow away for long flights, and the smaller the ship or the larger the crew, the harder it got. Sakura should have known what she had attempted would be impossible, but just like the game of Tiles, she hated to give up, and just like in the game of Tiles, she ended up loosing.

She felt around for the back of her corset and felt one of the strings. There was a braid of leather and she picked at it, peeling it away from her corset until the red bead fell free from where it had been stitched in.

‘For when things get bad,’ her friend had told her before the trip even began. Sakura had a hard time believing things could be any worse, but the bead was still a dangerous thing to hold.

The footsteps overhead became hurried and she knew they were reaching port soon. They would take her, as they took all prisoners, and drop her before the inquisitors. They would trap her in the lights and know her secretes as easily as if they read them out of a book and not out of her shadows. All the work that went into readying her to take this journey would be wasted and worse if they knew what she knew.

The red bead felt heavy between her fingers.

She had seen it once, when her father had taken her into the capitol as a child. No one looked twice at such a lovely little girl, except to smile her way and tip a hat or head in greeting. She was privileged, and her father knew that better than she ever had. It was why he even bothered to take her into the House of Justice, up all those flights of stairs to the observation decks where students of Justice and Scholars of Nature watched with keen eyes and lecture notes curled up under their noses.

Children were rarely ever allowed into such a sacred place, but Sakura knew her eyes were big almost as much as her father did and made sure to use them when her papa asked a guard to help him ‘indulge his princess.’

They had seats towards the back with the other distinguished public, but she was small enough she slipped out of hers and stood in front of the glass, below the knees of a spindly scholar and his classmate. She watched with wrapped fascination as the criminal was brought forward in chains and set into place. They made the criminal stand while curtains rose all around him, revealing the illuminators; giant bulbs of glass with spirals on the inside that hummed and sparked life not unlike a lightbulb. The main difference between the bulbs made from simple science and those of the sacred science lay in what they revealed.

Sakura watched as the first switch was pulled and the hum came on. She could feel it in her bones before the sound grew louder. Light bloomed inside the glass and started to grow. It made the criminal squeal and squirm and beg to be let go, but the lights kept growing.

“They take some time to warm up,” one scholar said to another, by means of explanation.

“Why so many of them? Would not one suffice?” his younger friend asked.

“The illuminators reveal the secrets of the mind, and nothing on this earth is as complex as the human mind. One would not be enough, for it would only reveal one side of the truth. The higher the stakes, the more illuminators they bring in. I once saw a inquisition where they had to use five.”

“I still think three is overdoing it for such a petty crime.”

“They suspect he’s part of a resistance movement. They want to make sure.”

Adults only whispered about the resistance when they thought she could hear them. It wasn’t talk suited for children. The empire was too good a thing to disgrace with slanderous talk. There was no resistance, only traitors and thieves. Men and women had been speaking like that for as long as Sakura could remember.

Someone sucked in a breath through tight lips and her eyes widened at what she saw. Three illuminators cast three different shadows that spread out from the criminals body in hooked, shriveled imitations of his posture. Each shadow rippled as the thrum of power to the illuminators mounted and the shadows began to rise off the floor like solid figures.

The criminal moaned, hunching over himself as his shadows grew longer and larger than he had ever been. No longer man shaped, the shadows were towers of black, each one a bit different from the other, but all three shared a reflective property.

It hurt to look so long at the shadows and Sakura felt her eyes begin to water. She wanted to look away, it was harder to stare at the sun, but she forced her face to stay pressed to the glass as she blinked the tears away. She noticed some of the scholars had equipped custom goggles for the viewing, while others squinted through their own naked lashes.  

The shadows were speaking the mans secrets in a way only the inquisitors knew how to read. Inquisitors had their own spectacles of colored glass that they switched in and out between rose and green lenses, reading what Sakura could not. The lenses for the sacred science were expensive, and only the privileged could afford such a luxury if they were not already a part of the inquisition.

The humming whined down and the shadows melted back into the floor while the criminal sat sobbing. All around spectators began to mummer and whisper.

One of the scholars closes to her made a sound of annoyance with his teeth before removing his goggles. “Poor fool, that’s enough for a rope.”

“I couldn’t see, what was it?” the younger of the pair said, rubbing tears out of his eyes. They were red and blotchy, the same way Sakura expected hers to be.

“He’s a poor sap but he knew the wrong people. It was all years ago, but association with traitors is treachery itself. There is nothing more to be done for the man.”

“But…” the younger scholar was still rubbing his eyes. “The merchandise… did he steal it?”

“No, but that doesn’t matter. Now do you see why they must use so many illuminators? Without the third bulb his past would not have been seen.”

He went on to explain what each light had revealed based on the gems and geodes inside and where the memories and secrets left off but Sakura wasn’t listening anymore. She watched the floor down below where guards ran in to unhook the chains and drag the broken man away. Her father touched her shoulder and she left with him. It wasn’t until they were far away that he said anything.

“What did you think?”

She held out her hands and he lifted her into his arms, cradling her like she was tired, even though they both knew she was just acting spoiled. She had enough energy to lap their city two times over. “He looked so sad.”

“That’s what people look like when they know they’re going to die.”

“No, not like that.” Sakura buried her face in her father’s shoulder. “Like it hurt.”

He hummed, stroking the back of her head. Behind them a pair of elderly woman cooed at the sight they made. “Why would you think that, my gem?”

Sakura shook her head and buried her face deeper, refusing to say anything more. It would be a rare thing for her to ever speak on the subject again, and her feather never pressed her on it for the rest of his life. She hadn’t told him, but she knew what she had wanted to say that day, the words she had been too scared to speak out loud. That man looked like someone had violated him, stolen his insides and left him hollow. He looked empty, and it wasn’t a rare thing.

They called it Swelter’s Syndrome, after a Henry Swelter who suffered trauma and depression as a result of extensive sessions under the illuminators. Some people were fine after multiple interrogations, while others broke after only one bulb. Doctors needed a name for what they were dealing with. That was back before things got ugly, when people were allowed to feel sorry for human beings who happened to also be criminals. Back then they had said it was inhuman. Later on, the said it was necessary.  

The ship lurched and Sakura heard the riggings go wild as hands scrambled to secure the ship in it’s final moments before docking into the sky harbor. Docking in general was difficult enough, but sky harbors were always a bit more challenging. Only the most experienced dared make the journey.  

Another lurch told her the hooks had caught hold of the railing and was pulling them in. She had minutes before someone came down for her. She heard the wooden wheels and grimaced. Already they were unloading the walk-away planks.

The red bead was heavy in her hands, but not heavier than the memory of the man, hallowed and broken under the light of the illuminators. Her resolve settled and she felt it like the grip of a scimitar; something to hold onto.

She dropped the bead and twisted onto her side, her hands still tied behind her back. Her face was less than an inch off the floor. The bead was caught in a groove between floorboards, and with enough struggling, she managed to put herself in position to reach it with her teeth if she stretched her neck long enough.

“Someone, grab that blasted stowaway. Get her off my ship!”

The footsteps were more than just heavy, they were angry and they were drawing closer.

She reached out and caught the bead between her teeth and tasted it in her mouth before swallowing. It was enough to make her want to gag, and she choked as the bead slid down her esophagus, cold and metallic. She tasted what she thought were rotting oranges dipped in old mechanic’s oil. It wasn’t meant to taste pleasant.

It was seconds later when she felt the pull in her brain, followed by the heat and all the searing pain that one could imagine of a demolition crew crawling around in her skull. She gasped again, falling sideways onto the floor, face turned upwards as the world bled a stark white. She couldn’t see, but there were tears in her eyes as another wave of pain rolled over her.

The door overhead opened and she heard cursing. Someone was complaining about girls and their crying faces and all the trouble they would get into if the empire officials thought they mistreated a prisoner in their care, especially a woman with her privileged heritage. Not everyone was as highly valued as a woman with such pale skin, soft features, and lovely colored hair.

In parts of the world where red and rose colored hair made you a witch or something vile, the empire made no secret of showing its favoritism to the red, rose, and pale colored hair of its esteemed citizens. It made her perfect for what she wanted to do, what she set out to….

Her mind hit a wall and more pain made her cringe.

She had come to the city in the clouds for a purpose. She was there to…

The wall showed up again and she felt the vibrations of her collision shock her again. She whimpered in pain, frightened as well as wounded by something she couldn’t see or understand. There was something solid in her mind that kept her out. She couldn’t see what she wanted to. She couldn’t remember what she needed to.

She was there to…no. She needed to, it had been her job-mission-plan….to do something…

Then there was no wall, only emptiness, rotten oranges and motor oil in her throat. Motor oil always reminded her of the simple science, but dead fruit, rotten flowers and expired things that once had been so covetously pulled from the earth, always reminded her of the sacred sciences, the ones that did what others called magic.

Her throat was filled with the taste of dead things as the tattooed man hauled her off the floor, cursing and grumbling about how bad it looked for him. Sakura still cried, but it was a quiet crying. The pain was gone and she couldn’t remember why she would have cried in the first place. She couldn’t remember being sad. She couldn’t remember much of anything.

“So, what is the story with this one?” The younger of the two immigration officials asked, looking through the glass window into the room below. 

The girl was still standing in the middle of it crying, even after the illuminator had powered down. The sight of her tears made him uneasy and he hoped she wouldn’t suffer anything lasting as a result of her exposure. It was rare for anyone to be so adversely affected from only one bulb, and her records were impeccably clean so she hadn’t ever been exposed before. Still, she was a young girl, and young girls can be easily frightened.

Edger huffed, tossing the goggles aside. “Ballet. She came to see the dancers preform at the Cygnet Dome.” 

The gruff official rubbed the underside of his chin, scratching at the stubble he had meant to keep away. It made the curve of his waxed stash stand out all the more when he was, otherwise, clean shaven. When he noticed his partner linger he paused to chuckle. “I’ve seen it enough. She’s young, her parents probably spoiled her and this is the result; a sense of entitlement.”

“She has none.”

The older officer looked up, frowning. “What?”

“Both of her parents, the records say they are both deceased. Her mother died of Coil sixteen years ago. Her father…it says he was killed in a traffic accident last year. Trampled when a horse went wild. Nothing after that, no names, no relatives.”

“Beastly things.” Edgar touched his mustache again. “Fools should just use the motor cars if they can afford to keep horses in the city. The vanity of some people will be the death of us all.”

“She’s the age of legal consent. We don’t need a guardian’s permission, not that there was any way we could find one, so I’m going to draw up the paperwork for her fine. Will you prepare a cell room for her if she is unable to pay?”

“No need,” when the younger of the two guards gave his superior a look of confusion Edgar waved a hand dismissively.  “You’ve been here only a month, Kiba, you wouldn’t know to recognize it, but she’s too well groomed to be poor.” He tapped the glass. “Her hands for one, and her clothing for another. In her memories she was a dancer, and only the affluent dance so well. She’s high born, a lady of some class. Even orphaned, I doubt she would be unable to pay our measly fine.” He then grinned at the rookie. “Take a good, long look now before she walks out of here, it might be the last you see of our pretty lady.”

Kiba shook the look away, glancing down at the floor below where she continued to shake, holding her shoulders. “I didn’t miss it, I noticed how well she walked when they brought her in. Also, the whale bone in her hair comb would be enough to cover her fine, but that doesn’t always mean we shouldn’t be prepared. I’m trying to do things by the book.”

“I know you are, but experience makes you better than the books. I’ll clean out a room, but it will be a waste of my time. Speaking of which, feel free to take yours. If the city watch comes by asking for help again we can at least say we’re doing something.”

Kiba wanted to wince, but knew what he was supposed to say. “If we can help we should.”

That had been prominently drilled into him before his graduation from the academy. A year ago he might have been tempted to lie around and take whatever shortcuts he could, but he was in uniform now, and the buttons were almost as heavy as the responsibility to live the life of an exemplary citizen. It had been a year since his sister left, but people still whispered. They would whisper less when they saw his uniform.

Edger rubbed the underside of his chin, muttering something about children and all the energy he didn’t have. He turned and started to walk away, but over his shoulder he called back to the younger partner. “If she offers you a bribe, you should take it. Sometimes her type don’t like leaving a record.”  

Kiba nearly bristled. “That’s not something-.“

“Don’t tell me anything, I never saw this.” With a wave he was gone and Kiba doubted he would see the older guard again unless someone came looking for them.

Kiba rolled the papers back down and pulled a few new sheets off the wall before walking towards the release door. He didn’t mind walking a little faster to reach it, and thought it was only good manners to not keep the lady waiting any longer than she had been.

She looked up sharply when she heard the heavy door pull back. Her hands were still around her arms, but the shaking had stopped. She swallowed once and met his eyes. He wanted to look down. It always unnerved him when those with colored eyes stared into his. Most people looked like him, so it rarely mattered, but she wasn’t most people.

“You can come this way, you’re not being charges with espionage, so we can settle the stowaway matter at my desk.”

He meant it to sound light and teasing, but her shoulders didn’t ease and the hard edges of her gaze remained, so Kiba guessed he hadn’t been successful at putting her at ease. Of course, the more he wanted something the harder it was to obtain it. 

Of course.

She followed him wordlessly to the offices towards the front. The others were in use by other officers working the paper heavy job of cataloging and processing information regarding transportation. His office was empty except for the papers littering his desk and spilling over onto his floor. I was a tad embarrassing, but he pretended it wasn’t as he pushed them away with the side of his foot.  

“I apologize for the mess.”

She took a seat in front of the desk while Kiba moved to that the one on the opposite side. He pulled out the necessary forms and filled in the dates before turning them over. “I just need you to fill these out and they’ll go into your file. Once you’re able to pay the fine you’re free to go.”

She picked up on of the papers and narrowed her eyes at the writing that was already penned in. Kiba had written the date, but he had also written in her name, or the name they had on file for her. “You looked up my file.” It wasn’t a question but it made Kiba feel as uncomfortable as if it had been.

“It’s standard procedure. We also didn’t know if you were actually a minor or of age. You…looked so young. We had to make sure.”

She looked up, over the paper at him and his eyes went to the wall behind her head, avoiding her gaze. “How did you find my file so quickly?”

“It wasn’t’ quick, actually. You’ve been under the illuminator for almost an hour. It’s an older model, so it took a while to power up and the shadows came so slowly.” Kiba waved to the papers he had in front of him with all her records. He smiled, or tried to. “While my partner worked the machine I tracked you down. It was a group effort. I apologize for taking up so much of your time.”  

“No, not at all. I should be the one apologizing for making so much trouble for others.” The girl with eyes as green as sea glass sighed.

“It happens to the best of us.” He offered her his pen. “And most stowaways are not so easy going. This is pleasant work.”  

She hesitated a moment longer before taking his pen and signing in a careful hand at the bottom of the first page. She initialed in a few more places before pausing. Her eyes scanned the print as she read the terms of agreement. She pointed to a portion of the page made up of boxes.

“Do I have to fill these out if I am no longer a minor? I’m not being released into anyone’s custody.”

“No, but it is required to provide the name of someone we can contact to get in touch with if we need you again and can’t reach you. Do you have a relative, or a grandparents?”

She glanced to her file and he knew there was no one listed among her living relatives. Her lips were drawn tight before she answered, still not looking at his face. “No. I have a godmother, but she would be harder to reach than I would be, and I didn’t want her knowing I was here. That was the reason I didn’t buy an actual ticket.”

He recognized the thinness of her voice, remembering it well when he talked to the grieving woman who insisted they were fine after having to identify the bodies of loved ones. During his last year at the academy, his internship had him on the street and in the morgue, in two places he knew he wouldn’t be able to work in again.

Just like for those mothers, Kiba felt his sympathetic heart drop in his chest. He wanted to change how things were, wanted to fix what she felt, but knew better than to try or even let her know what he suspected. Like those woman, she was proud, and likely strong. It would be a sad thing to let her know what he thought, so he smiled again and nodded in what he hoped looked like sympathy.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Really, it’s only customary. You just need to fill out what you can. We’ll deal with the rest if it comes to that,” he said before pointing to another section of the papers. “My name is Kiba, you can write that down for the officer present for your debrief. Kiba Izuna.”

“You started to write my name but neglected to pen down yours?” she asked in a hum that might have been jovial if she didn’t sound so tired. She finally looked up at him and he tried to look away again, but her gaze was a trap. She had sea glass for eyes and he was as common as sand on a dirty beach.  

Kiba swallowed, feeling his throat dry. “Are you thirsty at all?” He stood, his chair scratching across the floor. “There are refreshments as well. I’m going to go get a scone.”

He waited only a second to see her shake her head before he paced out of the room with his hands pinned to his sides, making a beeline for the recreational room meant for employees. He poured two cups of hot water from the tap in the wall and picked up a handful of tea bags before pausing.

If she was from a wealthy family she probably took her tea straight from the leaves the way aristocrats would. Would it be insulting to offer her tea from a silk bag? He didn’t know how to make tea any other way, there was never the time to waste on such things.

He didn’t want to be rude, but coming back with only refreshments for himself would be more than just awkward. Also, she looked tired. When was the last time she had eaten? She didn’t look well fed when the brought her in, and it wasn’t uncommon for stowaways to be neglected, even if they were high born citizens of the empire.

Deciding he’d rather be rude than neglectful, he took the tea bags and set a scone on each of the saucers before carrying them out. She was still on the same paper, reading all the fine print, when he came back into the room. He cleared a patch with his elbow before setting the saucers down on his desk and pulling the the bags from his pocket.

“I apologize if I overstep, I didn’t know which tea you would prefer and we don’t carry anything but bags.” He gestured to the scones. “It’s raspberry.”

Her eyes left the paper and shone before she reached out for the food. She hesitated before her finger could touch the glazed exterior and looked up at Kiba, who still stood awkwardly behind his desk. “Thank you.”

As he watched her eat, he felt better about his decision. He had been right in assuming she was hungry. She ate more like a person and less like a doll, the way he was used to seeing aristocrats eat. His sister had tried eating like that too, before she left. He remembered teasing her for all the tiny bites that never touched her lips.

Stiffly, he took his seat, pulling his tea closer to where he could more easily reach it from his chair. “Do you have someone who could escort you through the city? Imperium is not as large as our capital, but it is complex for the new and visiting.”

He watched as she licked the sugar from her lips and reached for a lemongrass tea bag. She ripped of the top off the paper wrapper and lowered the silk bag into her water, staining it with the color of melted sunlight. “No, there is no one.” She glanced up, through her lashes. “I had endeavored to be discrete about my escapades. My family and friends believed me to be in Blath, visiting school friends at the coast.” She jogged the tea bag in her water, swirling the color. “I didn’t want them to know I came here.”

“Your family?” Kiba wanted to pick up her file again. “I didn’t see a mention of them on your record.”

“It’s only my godmother and her sister in law. My parents…well, that should be in the file, shouldn’t it-what happened to them? ”

Kiba nodded, picking up his tea and blowing across the surface before taking a sip. “There wasn’t much more than that, however. Your file was simpler than most. Did you not attend a university?”  

She hesitated and his heart seized up, wondering if his light conversation had rubbed her the wrong way. While he had been asked before and asked others the same question, he suspected it was different for someone like her. There wasn’t any shame in not attending university or school in general, but some families were stricter about tradition than others, and it wasn’t a secret that blue bloods made up the greatest percentage of university students. As often happened when he panicked, scenarios of the worst possible outcomes flickered to life in his mind. Maybe she had been unable to attend university after her father’s death. What if she had been sick? What if she had fought with her parents about it and-

“I did not attend university. I wanted to focus more of my time on the arts. Is there anything else that you found odd about my file?” She took the first, experimental sip of her tea and then another.

“N-No, no it wasn’t odd, I was just trying to make-um, er, no there’s not. I apologize if I made you uncomfortable.” He knew his cheeks were burning. His face was probably a flame with red. His uniform didn’t help any either. He felt so stuffy inside of it.

She waved him off and sighed her name at the bottom of another paper. When she turned it around Kiba recognized the section pertaining to the fine. “If my file isn’t under suspicion, then I think all I have left is the fine. Will this suffice?”

Kiba took the paper and felt equal parts relieved and disappointed when he saw it would. “Yes, this should be fine. I’ll take this part to the treasurer and then I’ll walk you out. Thank you for being so accommodating.”    

He hesitated only on the threshold before power walking across the offices to where the secretary filed away checks and pay stubs for all the transactions in the immigration offices. Normally, these things would take a few minutes, but the day had been unexpectedly boring with little work, making the process all the faster.

It was one of the reasons so many of his co workers were anxious about the city guard coming in to ask for help on patrols. They were not allowed to refuse unless they had something else they could use to justify them needing to stay inside the immigration offices. And while it wasn’t difficult or particularly dangerous work, the city guards had a reputation that made others want to avoid their ranks. It was a part of the politics that made up their floating city.

“Shit,” the sectary hissed under his breath, digging into papers under his desk and pulling them up to make it look like he was working.  

Kiba turned around and felt his gut clench. A pair of polished dull eyed guards stood in the doorway, looking around with hungry gazes. Kiba recognized only the shorter of the two as Ukon. The other was a male he had seen before but didn’t know the name of. Ukon was younger than most of the others, but he had been a guard for the city for years and held a measure of authority over other guards.

‘Speak of the devil and he shall appear.’

Kiba froze when he saw their eyes meet his. Inwardly he groaned. They had seen him and were now coming over. He had made a mistake, he should have kept his head down. Now they were coming to harass him when all he wanted to do was hide under a rock and pretend today never happened. Sure, he got to meet and see a stunningly attractive woman come through his department, but he also made himself a fool in front of her and drew the attention of one of his least favorite people ever. It was a nice thing to have met the beauty, but it didn’t even come close to making up for what he would have to endure with Ukon.

“Kiba,” the shorter officer hissed in delight. “So good to see you working faithfully for the crown. What is the nature of your work currently?”

Kiba inclined his head in their direction and schooled his features into a mask of indifference. “I am dealing with an immigrant. I still have work to be done here.”

Ukon didn’t look impressed, but leaned down over the counter with his arms crossed. “Do you now, how quaint. And your partner? Where might the old bearded man be?”

“He is seeing to the maintenance of the illuminators,” Kiba lied, hating how easy it had become. His partner was taking a nap somewhere, and the Illuminators weren’t due for a cleaning or maintenance for weeks, even with the extra use. “We have divided the work for greater efficiency,” Kiba recited in a monotone voice, knowing it was something that older officers like to hear.  

Ukon looked behind Kiba, down the hall. “Is your Immigrant here, presently? Will he need an escort?”

“I don’t think so. The situation is being handled. If you are in need of the help, would you like me to post a bulletin requesting volunteers? I could have it up on the Bolts in ten minutes.

The Bolts were the ever changing, electronic bulletin boards made up of slides that flipped over and over to display newer, up to date information across the city.  The Bolts with the blue boarders were for the official city use only, but privet companies used them to advertise in designated areas in different colors. The City Guard hated having their name on the Bolts, on account of how they believed it made them look like they couldn’t do their job without aid. Kiba was thankful he knew to ask them about it.

Ukon straightened, agitation clear across his features. “No, that will be all. If such a desperate need does arise for aid, you can be sure we will post it ourselves. Your reports are due at the end of the week, remember.”

Kiba nodded, not daring to breath easily until they had all left. Behind him, the male secretary forced himself to keep writing a report that had been finished hours ago.  Kiba began to turn towards him with the sighed papers he needed processed. Uko and his men had already turned away, but were still within ear shot. “Before I can release her I need this cheque cleared,” Kiba said, bending low and holding out the paper.

Shino, looked over his spectacles and took the paper before pushing his chair to roll to the switchboard. He connected with the bank before adjusting his headset to fit. Kiba waited patiently as his friend read off the account numbers and transferred the monies. It was a few minutes later before the call could finish, but when Shino turned back, his expression was perplexed.

“What?” Kiba asked.

Shino stamped the check with a red PAID stamp before handing it back to Kiba. “The account had an information screen. It’s been a while since I’ve run into one of those. Who is it for?”

“Her name is Sakura.”

“Yeah, I saw that, but who is she? Not just anyone can have a screen put up over their account and few people would want to. It makes it that much harder to withdraw money.”

“Do you want me to ask her about it? I have her file.”

Shino narrowed his eyes behind his spectacles, pushing them up just slightly. “Was the file suspiciously thin?”

Kiba swallowed. “The information seemed accurate. I don’t think it was a ghost file. It had all the necessary components…” his voice trailed off as he remembered there was no mention of who her parents were, only their fates and basic information. She was a ward of an aunt and had adopted the older woman’s last name.

The way Kiba’s words trailed off made Shino’s frown deepen. “Don’t let her leave. Make up something if you can, but there’s something there that doesn’t sit right.”  

Kiba picked up his heels and hurried back to where he had left her. Ukon’s visit had delayed him, but he doubted she would have done anything as silly as leave. And it wasn’t like she had any reason to run. They had used one of the Illuminators on her and seen the inside of her brain. She had nothing to hide.

Kiba stopped on the threshold of his office, jaw slack. Her seat was left empty along with the rest of the room.

“Shit.”

Sakura retched in an alley, hating how she was caught between hunger and nausea. She wanted to lie down and wallow, but she couldn’t. She had work to do...if only she could remember what...

#This is so old #Remember the TeaLion Express in Obelisk #this was the yellow lever #Jasper was almost an Obelisk chapter #This is from so long ago #Sakura meets up with the akatsuki #she's a rebel #of sorts #it was a cool idea #cool world #maybe one day I'll try it out again #Jasper #Obelisk #Sakura #Sakura Haruno #Kiba #Kiba izuna #my writing #mine