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cocobeanncteez · 3 years

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Ateez Hongjoong: Tame (Final Part)

Genre: Fluff, angst, smut, mafia au.

Pairing: Mafia!Hongjoong x OC (written in 2nd person)

Word Count: 17k in total, 2.2k in this part. (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3)

Warnings for all parts combined: Mafia themes such as torture, abuse, violence, human auctions, murder, drugs, guns. Mentions of rape, human trafficking, sex slavery, organ trafficking, unprotected sex, pulling out, facesitting.

“What are you guys up to?” you questioned, plopping down on the couch beside Wooyoung. Yunho, Jongho, and San were seated on the opposite couch.

“Just talking about one of our hostages who we will kill tonight,” Yunho replied while playing with a rubik's cube.

“What did they do?” you asked.

“He tried to sabotage our latest drug deal with a secret dealer from Russia. We didn’t know how he found out about it, but he spilled the beans on his gang,” San answered. “So we don’t need him anymore.”

“Well… rest in peace, I guess,” you remarked, making Wooyoung snort.

“Would’ve been better if we killed Yang Daeyoung instead.”

You turned to look at him. “Who exactly is he? I’ve heard his name a few times, but I’ve never gotten the opportunity to ask.”

Jongho gently cleared his throat. “He’s the man who raped and murdered Hongjoong’s sister. Him and three of his men. He wasn’t from a very powerful gang or anything, but he does his work extremely well. He wanted to take us down, and he used Hongjoong’s sister as bait to trap him. Hongjoong refused to give up on Ateez. By the time we managed to track Hongjoong, the damage was already done.” You felt your heart break; you couldn’t even imagine what your boyfriend had to go through.

“Where is Yang Daeyoung now?” you asked.

“Rotting in our torture chamber as we speak.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “What?! Why haven’t you killed him yet?”

“We are looking for his child,” Hongjoong replied, joining the conversation. “The man has over five trillion won kept in a secret bank account. He also has information, good and bad, on every mafia gang and the corrupted politicians and locals involved. That’s why all gangs are still on the lookout for him even though we captured him eight months ago. He has a secret place somewhere in the world and only his child can access his possessions as he used iris pattern recognition. He has covered up everything though. We can’t find shit on any of his family members.”

“No amount of threatening or torturing works on him. We even told him that we’ll find his child and torture them,” Jongho added. “But he won’t reveal anything to us.”

“Maybe I can try?” you suggested. You did learn how to torture someone for information, but it wasn’t something you really enjoyed.

“Your chances are extremely low,” Wooyoung remarked.

“I’m aware of that. But even a little information could be helpful, right?”

“Go ahead then, sweetheart,” Hongjoong said with a smirk. “I’d love to see my girl torture that filthy bastard.”

You pecked his lips. “Then let’s go now, shall we?”

You made your way to the torture room, Hongjoong, Jongho, and Wooyoung following you. Seonghwa joined you after finishing his work in the interrogation room, satisfied with how much information he was able to obtain. Jongho entered a passcode for one of the rooms, letting everyone inside.

The room was pretty dark and looked like a jail cell. You saw a plate of untouched food on the floor. There was a chair in the middle of the room and a cot at the end of the room where Yang Daeyoung was sleeping, his back facing you all, long chains attached from his hands to a pipe.

Wooyoung moved to the sleeping form, giving the man a kick on his back to wake him up. “Get up, fucker.”

Yang Daeyoung groaned in pain before sitting up, looking at the faces of everyone in the room. As soon as you made eye contact with the man, your heart dropped to your stomach.

His eyes widened. “Kiah?! What are you doing here?!”

The boys immediately turned to look at you. You weren’t able to utter a word due to how shocked you were at seeing your own father there. His hair was quite long and he had a long beard and moustache. There were a few scars on his face and arms.

“How do you know her?” Hongjoong interrogated.

“Run from here, Kiah! They’re gonna kill you,” your father yelled at you.

“Do you know him?” Seonghwa asked you, but you weren’t able to answer. You felt sick. You felt terribly sick that it was your father who raped and murdered your lover's sister.

Tears rolled down your eyes when you glanced at your boyfriend. How could you ever face him now?

“Kiah!” your father yelled, tugging hard on the chains, grabbing your attention. “Get out of here! They’re gonna torture you in front my eyes! They said they will find you and torture you!”

Hongjoong looked at you with an emotionless expression, finally understanding the situation. “You’re his daughter?” You couldn’t respond.

“Are you this bastard's daughter?!” he yelled at you. Before you could answer him, he rushed out of the room. You couldn’t help but cry, burying your face in your hands, feeling your heart ache.

Your father glared at you angrily. “Why are you involved with Ateez?! What is wrong with—"

“Shut up!” you shouted, cutting him off. “You’re fucking pathetic! How could you r-rape someone when you have a daughter?! How could you lie to me all these years that you’re a cop, when you’re nothing but a heartless monster!” you sobbed loudly, collapsing onto the floor. You felt someone kneel beside you, wrapping their arms around you.

“Get away from her, Park Seonghwa!” your father spat.

Seonghwa turned to glare at him. “Shut it,” he said, before helping you stand up, taking you to your room.

You blankly stared at the window of your room from your bed, watching the horizon darker as night was approaching. It has been four days since you last saw Hongjoong. You felt nothing but emptiness and agony. You didn’t know if he was at the mansion or if he went somewhere as you haven’t left your room at all ever since Seonghwa brought you to it. The girls tried to make you eat, but you barely had the appetite to.

You sighed, forcing yourself to get out of bed to take a shower even though you were going to crawl right back into it.

Stripping out of your clothes and entering the shower, you pushed the tap, letting the warm water soak you. Closing your eyes, you could feel a dull ache in your chest when you began to think of Hongjoong. A sob got stuck in your throat, but escaped a few seconds later. You couldn’t hold it back anymore. You sat down, hugging your propped up knees. Your sobs got louder, and your throat was aching, tears mixing with the water running down your face.

After spending a few minutes crying until you couldn’t anymore, you finally washed your body and your hair.

Stepping out of the shower, you wrapped a towel around your body and another one for your hair. You exited the bathroom after putting some clothes on, having no strength to dry your hair with a blow-dryer. You stopped in your tracks when you noticed a figure seated on your bed.

“I'm sorry…” Hongjoong apologized, getting off your bed and moving towards you. He stood in front of you with a pained expression on his beautiful face. You wondered how long he was waiting for you and you really hoped he didn’t hear you cry. Even if he didn’t, he could still tell you were crying as your red, puffy eyes gave it away.

“F-For what?” you stuttered, voice shaky.

Hongjoong sighed, looking down at his feet. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I shouldn’t have left you alone when you were going through much worse. It was a shock for you too…”

Your eyes filled with tears. “I understand why you did it. It’s okay…”

He shook his head. “No, it’s not okay, baby. I’m ashamed of how I acted. You didn’t deserve that.”

You blinked, causing the tears brimming at your eyes to slide down your cheeks. Hongjoong reached up to cup your cheeks, gently wiping your tears away with his thumbs. He placed a gentle, lingering kiss on your forehead. “I’m so sorry.”

You closed your eyes, shaking your head in his hold. You pulled away from him, taking a deep breath. “Hongjoong, I-I think it’s best if we end things.” His eyes widened, heart aching due to your words. He opened his mouth to say something, but you spoke before he could. “I’m the daughter of the man who raped and murdered your sister, Hongjoong. I-I can’t…” you paused, sobs taking over. “I can’t live with that fact. I can’t look at you without thinking about it.”

“I don’t care, Kiah,” he reached out to hold your hands, his own eyes filling with tears. “I love you. Do you understand? I fucking love you. Yes, I was furious when I found out that you were the daughter of that bastard, but you shouldn’t have to suffer because of him. You didn’t even know what he does for a living. It’s not your problem.”

You sniffled. “You don’t h-hate me?” you couldn’t help but ask.

“Baby…” he sighed, pulling you into a hug, his own tears rolling down his beautiful face. “I could never hate you. Never. You’re the love of my life. Fuck, I can’t even live without you. These past four days… I felt like I was gonna go insane if I didn’t see you, but I had to give you some space.” You didn’t know what to say.

“There's no me without you,” he continued, gently pushing you away so that he could see your face. “So please… never try to break up with me again. I’d rather die than live without you,” he cried. You wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his chest while you both cried together. Hongjoong placed soft kisses onto your head, trying to calm himself and you down.

When your sobs stopped, he gently pushed you away so that he could look at your face. He cupped your cheek, titling your head back before he leaned in, capturing your lips with his own in a soft kiss.

He pulled away, resting his forehead against you. “I love you,” he murmured.

You smile slightly. “I love you more.”

Epilogue

“Oh my god! We’re finally here!” Jiwoo squealed, running on the cooling sand. Ateez managed to find out the location of your father's secret hideout in Fiji with the help of Yeosang who used your iris pattern to track the computer. Ateez managed to receive all your father’s possessions and now you all had flown across Fiji for a mini vacation.

“Jiwoo's dream destination is Fiji and now we’re here,” San said, watching his girlfriend with love and adoration. You chuckled, watching San run after Jiwoo to join her little hyper session.

“We’re gonna go rest for a while,” Seonghwa stated, holding Aeji's hand.

Wooyoung smirked. “I know what that means,” he said, earning a smack on his head from the older man before the couple went to their beach house in the chain of houses.

Hongjoong took your hand in his, intertwining it. “We’re gonna rest too. See you all for dinner,” he said, dragging you along to your little beach house.

The two of you walked in comfortable silence, sandals leaving prints on the sand, observing the various hues of orange, red, blue, and purple in the beautiful sky as the sun was setting. Hongjoong let go of your hand when you reached your beach house, pausing in his tracks. You gave him a questioning look, wondering why he wasn’t going inside.

He cleared his throat, moving his hands to wrap around your waist. “You’re the only one who could tame my temper, as the boys always say," he started, making you giggle. “The only one who could make my heart beat so fast. I’ve never wanted anything more in life than to be with you. You aren’t just my girlfriend, you’re my best friend and the love of my life. But now I’d like to change that,” he reached into his pocket, taking out a small velvet box.

Hongjoong got down on one knee, and you gasped, realizing what was about to happen. “I’d like to be upgraded from your boyfriend to your fiancé.” You chuckle at that and he opened the box, revealing a beautiful oval-shaped diamond ring.

“Moon Kiah, will you do me the honor of marrying me?”

“Yes!” you squealed, face beaming with happiness. Hongjoong took your hand in his, sliding the ring onto your finger. He got up and you pulled him into a bone-crushing hug. When you pulled away, he grinned before placing a soft kiss on your lips. “I love you. Thank you for bringing light to my life.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck. “I love you too, Joong. So much.” Hongjoong chuckled, pulling you into a sweet kiss.

You couldn’t wait for this new chapter in your life, spending it with Hongjoong by your side for the rest of eternity.

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rosewater-chlxe · 3 years

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pumpkin | colby brock

✖ Summary: While taking a trip to Rosehill Cemetery for one Colby’s videos, you both become a little too distracted to realize the dangers surrounding you.

✖ genre ; fluff, comfort, the tiniest bit of angst

✖ warnings ; slight mention of smut, reader w/ anxiety, mention of rituals

✖ requested - yes | no

anon asked: Hi love ! I saw that you take requests for colby again and I sent a request a while back asking if you could write one where he and his gf wanted to film a video but they start to make out super randomly and have to film the whole video again and now I am wondering if you could write it ?

a/n: i’m so terribly sorry for the wait; i hope you like it my lovely!! stay hydrated, take care of yourself, n make sure to rest!! ily <3

✖ masterlist

The setting was quite bizarre for the feelings you felt so deeply and beautifully in your heart; you were completely, utterly mesmerized by the boy standing beside you. You walked in this dark, melancholic place with your fingers intertwined; both his and your hands interlocked. He carried a backpack of filming equipment, drinks, snacks, and band-aids; you carried a separate bag of blankets and pillows. Ghosts and ghouls were rumored to be in this grey, brooding place; even dangerous rituals have taken place here: Rosehill Cemetery.

“Where do you wanna film the intro? I was thinking next to the Mortuary,” Colby said, “If you’re still comfortable and down for this, that is.”

“Of course I am!! Maybe a little nervous, but there’s no turning back now,” You replied, feeling a cold chill go down your spine at the thought of anything going wrong.

“Then the Mortuary it is,” He said with a grin that contained a hint of rebellion and mischief in it.

As the violet-haired boy filmed the intro to his video, you admired his every feature and each mannerism. The way he talked while swaying his hands and hips; the dimples slightly showing through his cheeks, the motions of his jawline. The angelic, ethereal man that stood before you made you weak to your knees; it was hard to count every breath he took from your lungs.

You were so in awe that you couldn’t hear the pet names said to get your attention, until finally he said your name.

“Y/N? You alright?” He questioned with a slight smile, catching your wandering eyes.

“Perfect.” You replied with a soft smile as he looked you up and down.

You both ended up heading to the biggest honorary statue nearby, to not only take a thumbnail but also to explore more of the graveyard. As you quietly stumbled down the gravel path with Colby, hand in hand, he made witty comments to the camera whilst paying close attention to your surroundings. This if the first kind of video of Colby’s that you’ve joined; you’ve always been eager to do something like this, though you know it can get risky and dangerous. That’s exactly why he held it off for so long, he never wanted to put you in any kind of uncomfortable or tense situations. The dyed-haired boy leading you has always been the utmost respectful and kind human being you’ve ever laid your eyes on.

The amount of pure infatuation and love you held for him came without hesitance or thought; no number could label what you felt, no word could describe what happened in you when you simply glance at him. The electric blue butterflies swarming through your heart and the rosewater in your veins never faded, only growing more and more intense each waking second. Before him, it was as if your world could only be seen in light grey and shades of blue; now everything is built with much higher saturation.

You knew not of what may happen in the future, but you knew you seen him in every upcoming chapter.

“Excited?” Colby asked, grinning at you as he looked back at you.

“Very; and a little scared, not gonna lie,” you replied with a light, friendly laugh.

“It’ll all be fine, if anything were to happen you know we can just go home,” he reassured you with a sly wink.

You nodded with a giddy smile, trying your best to look away from him. He could always make you feel like you’re on top of the world even with the smallest of interactions - that absolute bastard. You rolled your eyes as you realized just how much you’ve truly fallen for him.

You skipped in front of him and stopped him from walking ahead, smirking at him while he looked at you questioningly and suspiciously.

“What’re you up to, rascal?” He asked, knowing of your mischievous tendencies in the past.

“Now why do you always assume the worst from me?” you laughed as you started to trace a fingertip along his jawline, then to his neck; you felt him swallow as if he felt nervous, though you knew it wasn’t nervousness making him eager. Soon enough your fingertip made it’s way down to his chest, then to the bottom half of his black button down shirt. You let out a light laugh as you teased, completely removing your hand from his torso entirely.

Colby scoffed and quickly ran his ring-clad fingers up to your throat, his hand then forming a light grip across your jaw.

“Wanna think about teasing me again, princess?” He asked with a now lower toned voice.

You sweetly smiled at his intimidating exterior and leaned in to kiss him, in which he happily obliged.

You felt his soft, light pink-tinted lips against your own and the rest of your face grew numb. Your body became weak, and your legs tightly squeeze together as you felt the grip on your throat roughen. His tongue darted against your bottom lip, making you let out a sweet, soft sound. Within a few seconds, your hands started wandering beneath his slightly unbuttoned shirt; though as soon as your hand drifted lower, Colby almost immediately pulled away.

You were snapped out of your lovesick state as his facial features grew concerned; the only thing you seen at the statue you were a few feet away from was the illumination of candlelight and light chanting.

“Down,” He whispered, gently grabbing your shoulder and taking you to crouch with him. He placed a finger over his mouth, creating a silent “sh,” sound as he watched what was happening.

“Colby,” you whispered, “What’re they doing? Who are they?” you began to panic.

“Sweetheart, it’s going to be okay, just make sure you stay with me and do as I say,” he calmly whispered while making the softest direct eye contact with you.

He knew you have always had the worst anxiety and one of his top priorities are making sure that anxiety is calmed; that you’re taken care of. He always tries his best to keep you comfortable in every setting, that became much more evident rather than subtle when you told him about your anxiety. He very much understood what you went through and knew that you could help each other through your anxiety issues. Situations like this was something he never wanted you to experience.

“Who’s there?” a man in black attire yelled from the statue, looking in your direction. The chanting stopped.

Colby had a look of shock across his face, then sudden terror as he seen something near the statue that you didn’t; as soon as he gasped, the next thing you knew was running the opposite direction with him.

“We gotta get the fuck out of here,” Colby loudly spoke right next to you as you ran; he made sure never to let go of your hand.

“What did you see?” you yelled in response, trying to keep up with him when it came down to every single breath.

Colby didn’t respond, but he glanced back to see six masked silhouettes in the far distance; they did not run, they walked in unison.

At this point of running for what felt like decades though it had only been an estimated 45 minutes, you could see what looked like the parking lot close ahead. You had tears in your eyes that just wouldn’t drop; your throat felt like it was closing more and more within each passing second.

You and Colby finally made it to his car and looked back for anyone near you. No one else was to be seen. You jumped in and slammed the door, Colby then locking the car and doing nothing less than booking it.

He quickly pulled out of the parking lot and started going far faster than he should have. You seen him glance towards you in concern, making sure you were safe. His fingertips tapped on the steering wheel due to anxiousness.

“Colby, breathe, you’ve got me,” you reassuringly said to him with a small smile, though your voice came out with cracks and whines.

“Are you okay? I’m so sorry, this was such a bad idea,” he said to you in response, placing his right hand on your thigh whilst he continued driving.

“I’ll be fine as soon as we get home, please just relax for me?” you asked sweetly.

He nodded, his muscles untensing and his jaw unclenching.

“What can I do to make this up to you, sweetheart?” he asked, feeling incredibly guilty for the situation he put you in.

“You have nothing to make up to me love, but if we’re being honest the footage wouldn’t have been used anyway,” you said causing both of you to let out a light laugh, “so we could film another video tonight instead. A more laid-back one? Perhaps making a Halloween cake?” you excitedly smiled.

“Anything for you, baby,” he sighed with relief, “but we have to watch horror movies tonight and I don’t make the rules, you gotta cuddle me,” Colby demanded.

“Most definitely, pumpkin,” you replied lovingly.

- fin.

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thedelusionreaderbitch · 3 years

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Kaz Brekker x fem! Reader - The Saints Of Freedom

(Gif not mine)

A/n: So this just came up into my head... There's going to be so much Shadow and bone content I'm just saying in advance - I'm so sorry! Also Matthias is alive!

Warnings: Sexual abuse, abuse, harassment, angst, fluff, terrible men, death, blood, language I think that's it? You have been warned!

Summary: Some man from the Crow Club wants a good time with you

I take a sip of my water, sighing. Inej and Kaz are in the corner talking to each other, like they never broke up. Wylan and Jesper are in a couple seats over from me joking with each other like their lives depend on it. And Nina and Matthias are in a both in back, Nina trying to get Matthias to kiss her while he's trying to be decent. Apparently.

Why did I have to fall for the Bastard of the Barrel?

I shift around on my bar stool a bit so I can listen in on a conversation.

"Let's play a round of strip poker boys!" I flinch, nope not happening.

I guess I never really fell in love with Kaz, I drowned for him. Him and all his terrible ways and his broken mindset, I drown in that. I yearn for that death in an ocean of Kaz Brekker. Wanting that kills me, slowly although.

"James! Go get some Chicks!" I stiffen up and start to get out of my seat. I gracefully like a snake avoid anyone in the crowd slipping into the darkness acting as just another man looking for it's prey.

That way you go unnoticed.

A hand grabs me and forcefully drags me away from the entrance. Damn it, I was so close. I am harshly turned towards the person who dragged me away from my freedom. A shiver runs up my spine as a man with yellow teeth grins down on me. His left hand goes up and down my arm, while his right has a bruising grip on me.

"Your gonna come play some poker with us aren't you little- Umm let me think." The man pretends to think for a second

"Ah! Your a fawn!"

I freeze.

That's what my father called me when he use to rap-

Don't think about that you need to try and make up a plan to get out of here!

I realize that I'm dragged all the way to the back where a table is, too late.

"Come on girly, we want some." The monster says.

"Now." He growls.

I shake my head trying to get the thoughts out of my head from my home life. I can't kill them because their good pigeons to the Crow Club. But I can injury them if necessary.

"Your not even going to tell your name?" I look up to the man who dragged me over here, knowing that he's going to get me and will be the only one to get me. He got his prey now the others get to watch.

"It's James pretty girl, and take your pants and panties off now, if I win you'll get to keep em." The men around the table chuckle in delight knowing what will happen - he will try to loose.

"And if you don't?" I cheer myself on internally for not loosing it and keeping my voice strong. Stall, it's the best thing you get do.

"We really start playing poker than."

Lies. I hiss in my head, once my pussy is out he will do what ever he wants with me.

I place a hand on his arm, stall Y/n, stall.

"When does the game end?" I lean in and whisper into his ear like I'm trying to seduce him. Bile rise's up from my throat but I shallow it back down but then I realize it makes me seem like I'm nervous. Shit. He seems to have picked up on that though and he likes it. It means he has control.

His hand goes to my thigh.

"As long as I want." He pulls me onto to him and I struggle out of his grip. Five other men come and hold me down on the table. I attempt to wrestle them all and I almost get out, but two other monsters come up and hold me down.

"Let's give them a show boys!"

Tears gather up in my eyes.

"Monsters." I hiss at the men. One with blond hair punches my arm with the bed of his fist and a small scream is with drawled from my throat as I hear it... Crack! Fuck, it's definitely broken.

"You can't break a girl that's already been broken, you'll only get cut." I rasp my voice quiet but very, very angry.

"You litt-" He gets cut off from the other man who brought me to this torture.

"Gather round! People, gather round! Let's see what we can do to this pretty little fawn here?" The man - James says as he places a hand on my stomach. Mostly horrid men gather around the table but the odd woman is here too, probably the dumb ones. As soon as the predator got it's prey you run.

So your not it's next meal.

Struggling to try and get out of the men's grip on me, but it's hopeless. They have two on each limb of my body holding me down.

"Come on little fawn, it's time to play." The man whispers into my ear.

Memories flood into my sense's of my father. Doing terrible, terrible things to me. Marking me. Tainting me, as I learned not to scream anymore so mother wouldn't beat the crap out of me because if he couldn't get me - he got her.

The barbaric beast crawls onto me surely leaving bruise's and his hand goes to lift up my shirt and-

BANG! He's on the floor bloodied from where something hit his face. Hard.

The other men don't try and stop whoever hit the other vile man to the floor. I almost don't open my eyes to see who might be my savoir in fear that they just might want some.

I open my eyes.

Kaz! I think and I nearly sigh in relief.

"Let her go." Kaz says dangerously low and calm and the men practically drop me on the table.

Kaz's cane is still on the table as I sit up. Hi cane is pointed towards the men in question and at this point the other man starts to get up. Kaz nods to Jesper and Inej and she smiles a bit, always a pleasure to hurt some nasty men. Matthias seems to be guarding to doorway so now one can get out and Nina seems to go help Inej and Jesper as Wylan goes help Matthias with the door. Demo at the entrance, nice.

Kaz holds out a gloved hand, I take it and stand up next to him and at the angle we're at I'm pressed up against him.

"Come on little fawn." My father opens the door to my room slowly with a sadistic smile on his face.

"But fath-"

He lifts me up by hair and the cry of pain that would come from a normal child did not come, for they had not been train to be solider at seven.

"We don't call me that when it's play time. You know that." He growls as his hands start pulling off my shirt.

"Yes master." He takes my shirt off and h-

"Y/n." I voice says and I open my eyes and they lock onto some dark brown eyes. "Would you like to do the honours?" A voice rasps. I realize that Kaz is referring to the seven men lined up, held up my Nina, Inej, and Jesper and with some help from Wylan who has a grenade out to scare them.

I feel myself fade away like a I'm ghost.

Come on Y/n, be a good little fawn.

No. I think and push the memories back.

I go to the first three and I simply cut their throats with my double sided daggers. A man laughs and I swiftly turn. I then stab one in the stomach, the one who laughed while I killed the others. He howls in pain, I then simply kill him and the others till it's just the last one left. The monster. The one who dragged me away like a sack of kruge. Like I was a prize for him.

A ballistic smile creeps up on his face like he was paper and someone was drawing my nightmares.

It's my brother.

My brother who has the same smile as my dad, the brother who made fun of me at school, the brother who helped mom and beat me on his own accords as well. The brother who toke after our father in every way.

"You won't kill me." James smiles.

"You won't kill me." My brother says as I pull out a knife with serpent around it's handle.

"You still love me, I'm your brother." I drop the knife and he see's it as his chance and strikes.

The knives shake in my hands but I put them away.

"See." He chuckles like he knew what would happen. Imbecile.

"Your doing it wrong." Kaz limps up to me, the familiar pace of his cane hitting the floor. "You need to have a reason."

"I thought you didn't need one?" I sigh in disappointment of doing it the wrong way. Again. Kaz stares at me for a couple of seconds then shakes his head slightly like he's trying to clear his mind.

"No. You need a reason behind why we're here."

My brows frown in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Limping closer to me he places a hand on my shoulder.

"Why are you here?"

He walks back a bit giving me space to do my work. I suck in a deep breath, why am I here?

I release my weapon, an extension of myself and it doesn't hit the traget.

A man hits the ground with a thud, the man who tried to get a night with me yesterday is dead right on the ground. The blade embedded inside his chest and the snake sticking out.

Checkmate.

Kaz flash's me a smile but I barley catch it and it's gone in a blink.

"Good, not what do you want to be called?"

"Serpent." I whisper as I look up into his eyes.

"The Serpent."

I take out my knife with a snake around it's hilt always looking like it's moving and ready to strike.

Why are you here.

I close my eyes and it's done in a flash.

His ankles and hands are severed off and they drop to the floor like their separate bodies.

I lean in and whisper into his ear.

"The Serpent as struck and it seems." I grin a little.

"She has not granted you the mercy of death."

I lean in closer so only he can hear as he howls out in pain.

"Eight years." I breath. I come back up and turn swiftly out of the Crow Club shoving past Matthias who looks to be horrified but I don't know beause he did survive hellgate.

I stumble into an alleyway and I grip onto the brick wall.

The wolf is no more.

Streaming down my face tears flood my vision as I weep for all the pain, for all the years of torture finally the last one of them is dead.

Thump. Thump.

I hear the rhythmic of the crow cane but it seems to stop.

I lift my head up.

Kaz.

"Breath Y/n." I gasp in a breath and I stumble forward into his arms. I tense up and-

"Come on sister time to be a..."

"I'm not him." He whispers and it pulls me back into reality like an anchor.

He goes to try and touch my face but he stops midway and takes his gloves off. He touches his ungloved hand to my face and I can feel myself losing him to the past.

Think, Y/n! Think! He helped you, he saved you from everything! From your retched family, from the men today! He made it so you could defend yourself! He-

"Sankta Kaz." I blurt.

His eyes snap open and goes to back away.

"No, no, no! You can't possibly think of me as a saint!"

Normally I would be discomposed and would already be running out from embarrassment but a weird calmness wash's over me and a strange sort of serenity makes me want to go swimming.

"You may not be a saint to them." I point out behind him even though there's no people.

"But to me..." I pause trying to find the right words.

"You are my savoir. You saved me from my family." I walk up to him. "You killed my father and mother." I keep on walking closer. "You saved me from myself, you saved me today, and..." I trail off realizing how close we are.

I look into those dark eyes and I barely breath out,

"You gave me freedom."

I hesitantly warp my arms around him and he stiffens up but he relax's in my embrace. Our face's get closer and closer then-

"Why are you here?" It's the question he asked when I first learned how to throw a knife: What do you want?

"I am here because..." I trail off trying to find the words.

"I am here because of the kids." A new found confidence builds up in my chest.

"I am here to help the children safe from their abusive homes. I will help the children of Ketterdam." A fire of passion ignites in me making me bold.

"Will you help me?" The words hang in the air and Kaz looks into my eyes with a calculating gaze.

"I run a gang Y/n." I go to look away my face burning with embarrassment.

"But..." He takes my face into his hands.

"This Bastard can do both I guess." I grin in happiness and our faces finally get closer and we kiss.

Lightning crash's through me but I think of Kaz and our friends. Our lips shift together and I realize now that...

I'm drowning.

I'm drowning in Kaz, I'm absolutely deep into the ocean, falling but never rising. I just keep on going deeper and deeper till I pull away.

We pull away and I feel like a wave just crashed into me Kaz smiled and I whisper;

"Sankta Kaz."

Sankta Kaz the saint of greed. Sankta Y/n the saint of suffering. Together they are the saints of freedom.

Words 2383

-thedelusionreaderbitch

All rights go to Leigh Bardugo, Netflix and you! I just own the plot!

#six of crows #kaz brekker x reader #kaz rietveld #kaz brekker #x reader #wylan van eck #jesper fahey #inej ghafa #nina zenik #matthias hevlar #shadow and bone #fanfiction #oneshot

365 notes · View notes

screamingatanemptyroom · 3 years

Text

Song of a Mermaid Warrior pt 2

Part 2 to the mermaid story!

Decided to continue it, wanted to see where Jordan's story ends up.

You can read pt 1 here.

Enjoy!

___________________________

“Well, well, well! Never thought I’d see the mermaid herself swimming over to my fetid swamp here in the slums!”

A slim young man with bright purple hair grinned, flipping a silver coin into the air over and over without looking at it. “Thought you said you were never coming back? What, did your last book not sell as well now that you're peddling comforting little lies about your species?”

Jordan leaned against the doorframe of the dilapidated shop, wondering for the thousandth time if this was a bad idea. She knew the answer, deep down, but chose to ignore it. “Tock, cut the crap.”

“Oh sweetie, you haven’t changed. “ Tock laughed. “ I can cut the crap, but not sure what use it would be… crap is notoriously difficult to cut, tends to mush up, you know… and whose crap should be cut? Mine?” He shrugged. “ Sorry to say this body doesn’t make physical waste. What about yours?”

Jordan rubbed her forehead. “I should have known better than to do anything other than speak as literally as possible… I hate fairies.”

“You only know one fairy, darling.” Tock’s eyes blinked, the irises turning green, than orange, than staying at a robin’s egg blue. “Unfair of you to judge the whole species just because you don’t like me. Especially because I have been nothing but fair and helpful to you.”

“You tried to trick me into giving you my skin.”

“TRIED. Tried is the key word there. Plus you didn’t fall for it, so what’s the problem?”

Jordan sighed, knowing that there was never any point with arguing with Tock.

She had run into the fairy over two years ago. At that time she was frantic, trying to find Hunter’s location, and her desperation had led her to the darker corners of the city. She had spent every last coin she had, unable to eat or sleep, and at her darkest moment, she stumbled into Tock’s shop. Later Jordan had realized that it was likely that despair that had allowed her to find his place. There were magic wards to keep all but the most vulnerable out.

When they met, Tock had seen her madness, her obsession, and was ecstatic. He tried to get her to agree to many terrible deals in exchange for tracking down Hunter and after adding a small addendum she had agreed, feeling that whatever price she had to pay was worth it.

In the end, the addendum she had insisted on saved her skin, quite literally. She had added on a time limit that he had to track Hunter down and arrange a meeting. And to Tock’s shock and dismay, whatever elven magic was hiding Hunter’s identity; it was beyond the fairy’s ability to dismantle.

Tock had failed to find Hunter, and the contract expired. Jordan left, at the time feeling a strange mix of disappointment at the failure and gratitude to be still in one piece. As they parted ways, she swore never to come back to his broken place of deals with the devil.

Until today.

“So what brings you here, my lovely little fish?” Tock flipped his coin again, and it sizzled as it disappeared into thin air. “Still trying to find that stubborn elf boyfriend of yours?”

“He was just a friend, and no. I gave up on him years ago.”

Tock frowned, blinking as his eyes turned a bronze color. “Pity. Your skin has only gotten prettier since the last time I saw it… would love to find your price to part with it.”

“…” The memory of Hunter cheerfully making plans to run away with her still hung in her mind. What was it that he had said? “We might lose our clothes and money, but at least we’d have a fun story to tell”? We had no idea what real fairies were like. The ocean’s song in Jordan’s ears was rising, she kept her lips closed to hold back the seductive call of the magic. The fairy noticed her struggle, backing away slightly.

“Fine, fine, no more talk about your skin. Why are you mermaids so sensitive about losing organs?” He paused for a moment, thinking. “Mermaids regenerate, right? Or was that trolls?”

“Tock….” The name was forced out between clenched teeth.

The fairy rolled his eyes, changing them to a pure silver color. “So what deal DO you want to make today, my angry mermaid friend?”

She dug through her pocket handing over a silver badge with a handkerchief. Her touch shouldn’t affect his abilities, but Jordan still didn’t want to touch it. It represented something she had tried to move beyond in the last few years, a part of the past that caused her to wake up sobbing some nights, and to stay up drinking others.

Hunter had been her only friend, the only person in this world she thought she could trust. She had learned the hard way how foolish that trust had been. But once she had finally made peace with that fact, he had sent someone to intrude in her life once more. After forcing her to stay out of his battle, he was inviting her to join him, dangling the one thing he knew she couldn’t resist to get her to agree: the existence of other full blood mermaids.

She wasn’t going to play by his rules. If he was expecting her to run back to his side after forcing her away years ago, he would be sorely disappointed. And if she was going to use the clue he had given her, it was for her reasons and no one else’s. Because for everything he had gotten wrong, Hunter had gotten one thing very right:

She did want to find the mermaids in the city.

Not out of any sense of loyalty or need to find others like her, however. She was simply desperate. The instincts to fight and kill, to use her magic to trap and destroy, grew stronger by the day. Soon she was afraid she’d start killing innocent people. She needed to find a way to control it.

Jordan was hoping that other mermaids would know how.

Maybe other mermaids don’t have this problem. She thought at her darkest moments. Maybe I’m just a killer, a monster.

She tried not to think about that to often.

Tock gingerly picked up the badge, his eyes widening with surprise and turning a glowing violet.

“You always have the best things! Let’s see… silver… It was made several years ago… it had other forms years ago… but the owners of those items died quite violently…” He paused, glancing at her curiously. “Your handiwork, I would guess?”

“No comment.”

“Such an unfriendly fish… good thing you have such pretty skin, otherwise I wouldn’t pay you any attention.” He turned back towards the badge in his hand. “It was made with care and love… quite a pure emotion of care… along with a large amount of hope, all mixed in with the silver as it was reformed… it was part of a set?”

“Yes.” She swallowed uncomfortably, pushing back the memories of a young naïve girl, who thought herself hardened and bitter, carefully making a birthday present for her best friend.

“Can I see the other one?”

She thought of the location of the badge she had once treasured. “No.”

Tock pouted. “Fine. It contains quite a few auras, but the strongest one… is quite familiar.” His eyes turned a bright angry red. “Elf!”

“Yeah, it was Hunter’s.”

“That BASTARD! His blasted elf magic forced me to lose my contract with you!” He tossed the badge to the counter with a disgusted grimace. “You’ll never be that perfect combination of desperate and vulnerable again!” He looked back at me. “You are STILL trying to find that elf who dumped you three years ago? And I thought you had standards.”

The ocean song roared in her ears as it sensed her anger, pushing at her control, leaking from her lips. She could feel it swelling beneath her skin, threatening to force itself out. Tock rolled his eyes at the sight.

“Don’t try your battle magic here. You may be quite terrifying to meet in a dark alleyway, but I have some great wards in place.” He sneered as she kept her lips closed tightly. “Just a word of advice: Don’t face off a fairy in his own home.”

Jordan forced her magic down with great struggle, every instinct wanting to lash out. “I don’t want you to find Hunter. I want to know most frequent locations this amulet has been over the past six months.”

“And that’s not the same thing because…”

“Because it’s not him I’m wanting to find.” If he's found mermaids, then the locations he's been, the people he's spoken to... they'll be clues to track them down.

Tock raised an eyebrow. “Then what ARE you trying to find?”

“None of your business. I just need the locations this object has been most frequently.”

“Very well.” His smile became sly, his eyes shifting away from the angry red to a dark blue. “What deal shall we make for me to do this? How about your skin…”

The last word trailed off as Jordan held up a golden coin.

“…”

_________________________________

The silence in the room stretched on, as Tock’s gaze was locked on the object in her hand. His eye color was shifting rapidly, brown, grey, orange, green, before the whole eye filled with color finally turning a solid, glowing silver. His shoulders twitched, and his teeth grew longer in his mouth, the sharp points pressing into his still human appearing lips.

“Where did you get that?” His whisper had lost all of his previous joking tone. There was a small amount of magic woven into his words, a minor compelling spell to force her to speak, and speak truthfully. It buried itself in her ear, making her thoughts foggy. Jordan smiled, shaking her head as the ocean song within her rose in volume, drowning out the fairy magic easily, keeping her mind clear.

“I’ve picked up a lot of things these past few years.”

“ANSWER. THE. QUESTION.”

“No.” Jordan flipped the coin, mimicking the fairy’s earlier actions. “Don’t try your magic on me, fairy. I’ve had too many years of practice ignoring magical compulsions.”

“Fine.” He sighed loudly. “Do you know what it is you have there? Do you know if there’s any more?”

“I’ve heard stories… tales only whispered in dark alleys and in crumbling basements. Do you know in schools here they teach that the humans are the only ones affected by the Darkness? That losing the ability to have children was the be all and end all of the curse?”

“…” Tock kept silent, staring at her. Shrugging, she continued with a mocking smile.

“What a limited view, right? Turns out that everyone lost something to the Darkness. Every single one. It took whatever that species valued most. For humans, such a short-lived, social people, it was taking away the ability to make new generations. But fairies… you are born of magic and air, part of nature and outside of time. Procreation means nothing to you.” She flipped the coin up, letting it spin in the air before catching it and holding it firmly in her hand. “The Darkness took something much more important to you fairies.”

Tock was trembling at her words, unclear if it was with fear or anger. “What do you think the Darkness took from us?”

Jordan glanced at his empty back. “Your wings.”

“…” The fairy’s hands were gripping the counter in front of him. His fingers sank into the wood as easily as if it was made of clay.

“If it were just something to help you fly, I bet you would have simply made do without them. But they represent something much more important, don’t they?” She leaned closer, ignoring his threatening aura. “That’s where fairies store their magic. So now you have the live with the scraps of magic you absorb from the earth and enchanted items, unable to store it within yourself. That’s why you work here, in this pitiful little shop, unable to do more than hide behind these wards and peddle minor magic tricks for favors.”

“Be careful, mermaid…”

“Oh I’m careful enough, Tock.” She opened her hand and stared at the coin in her palm. “No wonder you wanted my skin… how much magic should be stored within it, I wonder. Enough to last you a few years I would think. Which is why this little coin is so important to you.”

“…”

“Fairy gold.” She held it up again. “Quite pretty, actually, looks like the real thing even on close inspection. But if I were to try to spend it… it would expel all the magic stored inside, turning to wood and taking away my lifetime’s luck. An inconvenience for me… but for you?” She grinned. “It stores enough magic for you to live comfortably for quite some time. You could leave this shop, set up protective wards wherever you ended up. Magic enough to stabilize your appearance so your eyes and ears don’t change; let you blend in if you wanted to leave your house for a change. “

“…”

“So what do you say, Tock.” Jordan flipped the coin one last time. “Do we have a deal?”

After a long pause, the fairy spoke up. “… I …”

“TOCK ARE YOU HERE?!!”

The shop door slammed open and a short redheaded young man burst in. As he rushed to the counter, Jordan got a closer look. He was a few inches shorter than her, his leaner frame still obviously muscular. His facial features were handsome, with bright green eyes that glowed with excitement and fiery red hair that was cropped short. He wore regular clothing, a grey t shirt and jeans, and would have seemed very average except for the massive axe strapped to his back.

Who the heck is this?

“Glit, this isn’t the time.” Tock warned, his tone still angry and tense.

“No, Tock, I’ve been thinking about it… maybe I SHOULD be willing to compromise… exactly how much skin would you need to help me find the dwarves?”

The fairy’s eyes glowed an excited gold, his teeth retracting once more as he stabilized his appearance. “Well now…”

“Add his bill to mine.” Jordan interrupted, glaring at Tock. “No skin.”

“But… that’s unfair! We already had a deal!”

“You didn’t accept it in time, so now the deal has changed. “ She shrugged “The price I’m offering is more than enough to cover us both. I would suggest you take the deal before it changes again.”

Tock glared. “FINE! FINE, I ACCEPT!”

The young man turned to her, shocked. She met his gaze, holding back the urge to sigh. Jordan wasn’t much one for random acts of kindness to strangers, but he reminded her of herself a few years ago. Lost, desperate… the only kind of people who can slip past Tock’s wards. She just wasn’t sure what his reaction would be to her interference… annoyance? Gratitude?’

He grinned at her. “You look really strong! Wanna fight?!”

… Well that certainly hadn’t been the reaction she was expecting.

“Maybe later…”

His shoulders slumped. “Dangit. I was losing hope of meeting a strong person in this awful city… no offense if you like it here.”

“None taken, I don’t.”

“I finally meet someone worthy of a good fight, and I make a terrible first impression.” He sighed. “My Ma always did say I needed to work on my introductions.”

“…And you are?”

His eyes widened. “I haven’t told you that yet?” His hand slapped his forehead. “Sorry, must have been distracted by the whole ‘trading my skin’ thing. I’m Glitenaere ni Tolk Vhelarite, firstborn of Marleiun ge Nerturin, the greatest Dwarven warrior alive… but you can call me Glit!”

She looked over the short young man. “You are the greatest warrior?”

“Nope. My Ma.”

“You’re a dwarf?”

“Since I was born.”

Jordan felt curious, having only ever read about dwarves from human textbooks, which said they were a reclusive, unfriendly race.

The reportedly unfriendly, reclusive dwarf was reaching out to shake her hand. “Thanks for the saving my skin, friend!”

She didn’t take his hand. “Shouldn’t you have a beard?”

Tock burst out into laughter, his eyes turning a humorous magenta. “Wow, way to go straight for the gut.”

“Aww, shut up fairy, she didn’t mean anything by it. Can’t blame her for not knowing in a city like this.” Glit leaned against the counter, rubbing his chin with an idle hand. “I’m a darkling, a child born infected by the Darkness.”

“Every race lost something.” Jordan whispered.

“Not everyone was infected, but those who were never grew beards.” He looked sad for a brief moment. “It’s a symbol of strength, of connection to the Earth… everything in our culture revolves around it.”

“What about the women?”

“Oh they grow them too. You should see my Ma. Her beard makes all the boys cry with jealousy.” Glit laughed. “They all thought with her being the strongest and all, her child would be too… but…”

“…Sorry.”

“Oh don’t worry, friend. I’m not weak. I may not have a connection with the earth and a powerful beard, but I’m a force to be reckoned with when I have an axe in my hand!”

Tock looked up, his eyes turning bright white. “You may have to test that out sooner rather than later. We have company.”

BANG! Something slammed into the closed door behind them.

_________________________________

Jordan took a defensive stance, while Glit drew his axe. “Who’s coming?”

“Probably one of those damn purity obsessed groups. They constantly sweep the slums, looking for low bloods and part elves. Usually the wards keep them away, but today, I got a little… distracted. “

“Great. Not really in the mood to deal with these guys, Tock.”

“They bad guys?” Glit spoke up.

“Yep.” Jordan answered softly. “They do horrible things to those who can’t defend themselves.”

“Fair enough. Today they picked on the wrong type of people, though.” Glit grinned. “Let’s kill them!”

His easy acceptance of the violence they would face ahead gave her a little pause. Before she could examine it too closely, the door crashed open, and a large group of men wearing black cloths around the lower halves of their faces rushed in. In their hands were standard pistols, the dull metal glinting off the many lamps of Tock’s shop.

“Looks like we got a haul, boys!” One of them spotted Glit and Jordan, his eyes widening with shock. “That short one definitely can’t be high purity… he’s either a low blood or a dirty elf mix blood! And the other…” He glanced and Jordan and laughed. “A No Blood? Thought they were all gone!”

Glit twirled the massive axe in his hand with ease, looking confused. “Do I look like an elf?”

Jordan thought of the tall quiet young man who had always followed behind her, always trying to avoid violence. “Not even a little.”

“Ah.” He tossed the axe lightly, catching it with the other hand. “Hey fellas, despite your insults and poor eyesight, I’m gonna be nice. Here’s your one chance to run away, before my strong friend and I start slicing you to pieces.”

Even with the majority of his face covered, the disdain on the attacker’s face was evident. “Shut up, dirty elf! Even with your axe, you really think you can face a group with guns?" He snorted, "Now we’re gonna have fun killing you.”

Glit just laughed at the threat. “I was hoping you guys would say that!”

As the group of attackers spread out around the room, he turned to face one side, leaving his back open to Jordan.

Jordan hesitated briefly at Glit’s open back, startled at the gesture of trust, before slowly turning to cover him. She glanced around to see that Tock had disappeared before closing her eyes, calling up the song within her and setting it free.

From her mouth a song of battle rang out. Several of the attackers stopped in their tracks, caught in her illusion, but the rest were only mildly affected, just barely losing their grips on their weapons.

Jordan cursed silently, still singing. Her magic was very effective against small groups of enemies, but the more people it was spread out against, the less useful it would be.

As the song of death spilled constantly from her lips, she felt her nails grow out into claws and moved forward, striking the attackers that were not incapacitated first. From the side she heard Glit run forward, spinning his axe, blood and tissue flying through the air as he cut through enemies.

Blood dripped from her fingers. She heard someone behind her, preparing to strike and turned, grabbing his neck. She felt the water within his heart, and used her magic to stop it in place. His face turned pale, and clutching his chest, he fell to the ground.

Jordan was feeling the drain of her magic. Her vision was turning a bright blue, the song growing in her mind, calling for her to give in completely.

BANG! A shot rang out past her ear, and sensing the danger, the song surged louder in her soul.

Can’t give up all control to my instincts. She thought grimly, slicing the shooter’s face. I might just lose myself completely.

It was hard, fighting against physical enemies while resisting the magical bind of her own blood, but Jordan forced herself forward, grateful for the help of the dwarf beside her. If she had faced all these enemies by herself, she might have lost to the bloodlust within her.

The air was filled with blood and screams.

And then… there was silence.

__________________________________

Jordan’s vision cleared as she forced the song of the ocean down, keeping it tightly controlled within herself. Her nails retracted and she stood in place, staring down at the blood on her hands.

Hunter always said he didn’t want me to be a killer. She closed her eyes briefly with pain. She felt dirty, worthless. Maybe if I wasn’t one he wouldn’t have left me behind.

Lost in her thoughts, she only came out of it as she felt a warm touch on her hands. Shocked, her eyes flew open, only to see Glit pushing a large wet cloth into her grasp.

“Here, friend, you can clean your hands with this.”

She paused, unused to the kindness, but took it anyways. “Thanks.”

“No problem! You’re amazing! That battle song… had magic in it right? Are you not human?”

“Mermaid.” The word came out before she could stop it, and Jordan pressed her lips together, annoyed. He’s a stranger. No need to tell him anything more. She tucked the dirty rag in her pocket, not wanting to give Tock a free sample of her blood.

“Really? I thought they had all disappeared!” Glit’s face lit up. “My Ma always said that the mermaids were the only warriors she wouldn’t want to face up against! That’s awesome!”

She glanced at the dismembered bodies on his side of the room. “You’re not such a bad fighter yourself.”

His smile brightened. “Really? Thanks! Those guys back home thought I was pretty useless, being a Darkling and all, but if a mermaid warrior says so, I’ll trust your opinion!”

“This is all very touching… but what am I supposed to do about the mess you made?” Tock’s annoyed tone caught their attention.

“We fought off your attackers while you hid in the back, fairy.” Jordan raised an eyebrow. “You can worry about the mess. You’re lucky we don’t charge you for the service.”

“Yeah, what she said!” Glit crossed his arms, standing at her shoulder, and smiled at Tock, the still bloody axe in his hand making the gesture threatening.

Tock rolled his now yellow eyes. “Fine. While you two were gleefully tearing those idiots to pieces, I finished the tasks you gave me.” He spread a map on the counter, ignoring as the far corner was stained with blood. Jordan recognized it as a map of the city. With a golden pen the fairy circled a few buildings. “Here’s where the amulet has spent the most time in the last six months, in order of most time spent.”

She glanced over at Glit beside her. “And the dwarves?”

“Tougher, since he doesn’t have a possession from the dwarves in question, but…” He picked up a silver marker, and circled one place. “There is a high concentration of earth magic here.”

Glit and Jordan stared at the spot, where silver and gold overlapped.

“Looks like me might be looking for the same place.” She whispered.

“Really? That’s great, friend!” He paused. “By the way, what’s your name?”

“Jordan. But I don’t think we’re friends. I don’t trust anyone.” Not anymore.

“Jordan!” He grinned. “Don’t worry, we can still be friends. You don’t have to trust me. I’ll trust you enough for the both of us.”

Tock groaned. “You’re so naïve… why couldn’t you have shown up when the mermaid wasn’t around?! I could have extorted you for so much skin!”

Jordan grabbed the map silently, unsure of how to respond to the dwarf’s enthusiasm.

“If you’re going there, can we go together? I’m looking for a large group of dwarves that disappeared, we think they might be being held captive in the city.”

“…You really shouldn’t trust people so easily.” Her words came out as a pained whisper.

Glit’s face became solemn for the first time since they met. “It’s okay. I’ve grown up in a world that hates me. It’s not been easy, but over the years, I’ve developed a good sense of those around me, and what kind of people they are.”

“And kind of person do you think I am?” She was genuinely curious what the cheerful dwarf thought of her.

“You? Well, you’re someone who cares too much and wishes you wouldn’t. My guess is that you’ve been hurt very badly by someone you trusted… and now you would never wish that same pain on another person.” He shrugged. “So that’s why I trust you. You might kill me if you have to, but you’ll do it facing me. You won’t stab me in the back. You couldn’t bear to do that to someone after what you’ve been through.”

“Interesting opinion.” Jordan felt a strange mixture of despair and relief at his words. “Not put off by me killing men while they’re stunned by magic? That wasn’t just a fight…I’m a killer.”

“Hmm… well, I just chopped up six guys with an axe, and the only reason they didn’t shoot a bunch of holes in me is because of your magic, so I’m pretty sure I can’t judge.” Glit patted her on the back. “Are you looking for mermaids, like I’m looking for dwarves?”

She nodded silently, although silently she thought their reasons for looking were quite different.

“Then let’s go find our people together! You don’t have to trust your back to me, but don’t worry! I’ll defend it anyways.”

“Can you two leave?" Tock rubbed his face tiredly, his eyes flickering between purple and pink. "This touchy feely stuff is bad for my business. What if some desperate fool walks in and is inspired by all your motivational speaking?”

Jordan tossed him the fairy gold, taking back the silver badge she had given him, and turned and left the shop. “Never coming back, Tock.”

“Keep telling yourself that, my fishy friend!” He called back. “You’ll come back. They always do.”

“Okay then! See you later, Tock!” Glit called out as he walked behind her.

“…Actually, I would prefer it if YOU don’t come back. You give me a headache.”

Jordan and Glit left the carnage filled shop behind them

_________________________________

“So mermaids and dwarves being held in the center of the city.” Glit thought out loud. “Some sort of human conspiracy?”

Jordan thought of growing up in the orphanage, the city’s emphasis on having higher purity of mermaid blood rather than human, the complete lack of information on other races. She thought of Hunter and the underground Resistance. Of the Darkness that spread everywhere, touching every species.

Everyone lost something to the darkness, right?

So what did mermaids lose?

... What did I lose?

“There’s something broken about this world, more going on here then we realize.” Jordan answered softly. “But we’re going to figure it out.”

“Together?”

“For now.”

“Awesome!” He pumped a fist in the air. “Wait until I tell my Ma I went on a quest with a mermaid warrior. She’s gonna be so impressed!” He paused. “You two would get along, I think. Strong warrior types and all.”

Jordan sighed, rubbing her forehead.

“Why does everyone keep sighing around me?”

“… Let’s go. “

_________________________________

They moved quietly towards the place marked on the map. Glit, surprisingly, activated a hidden mechanism on his axe, folding it into thirds and hiding it in a backpack, and pinned on a “34” badge. He saw her glance at the silver ornament and shrugged. “Snatched this off some guy who tried to mug me when I arrived in town. Most people think I’m just a low purity level student when I’m dressed like this .”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-three.”

“…” Older than me? Jordan adjusted her mental view of him silently.

“Don’t worry if you thought I was younger.” He raised his hands helplessly. “No beard and the dwarven height tends to confuse people.”

“Sorry.”

“No worries, as long as you don’t think I’m weak and helpless just because I’m shorter than you.”

She thought of him cutting through enemies with his axe. “No chance of that.”

They made they way to the abandoned factory that Tock had marked for them. As they neared the area, Glit pulled out a machine from his bag waving it through the air.

“What’s that?”

“Dwarven machine, it detects the presence of magic.” He frowned. “We need to be careful. This whole place is covered with spells.”

“If this was a human holding place…”

“It shouldn’t have magic.” He finished her thought. “Maybe go up to the roof and enter from there instead?”

They scaled the wall silently, cutting a small hole in the roof with yet another tool from Glit’s bag. As she peered into the building, she felt the ocean’s song start welling up within her.

“There’s danger here. We should go back and regroup.”

“Jordan, look out!” Glit pushed her to the side, wincing as the blow from behind her struck his head instead.

Jordan opened her mouth to release her magic, but before a sound could escape, a hand grasped her arm and magic flooded her body.

“Sleep.” The voice was familiar, but her mind was already falling into darkness.

Jordan woke up on a couch in a dark room. Groaning, she rubbed her head, feeling angry. She knew this feeling, this hung over dizzy sensation. Remembered it too clearly even though she wished she could forget.

“Elven magic.”

Glit groaned from his sprawled position in the corner of the room, his arms and legs tied tightly. The ropes dug into his skin, but he ignored it as he flipped his body into a sitting position on the floor, looking up at her with a sad expression. “Sorry I missed them behind us.”

“It’s fine, thanks for taking that hit for me.” She glanced at the wound on his head, crusted with dried blood, and winced. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just a friendly tap. I’ve got a hard head.” He grinned, then looked around. “Real question is, who has us, and why?”

“I have an idea... but I really hope I’m not right.”

“You always did have good instincts, Jordan.”

The familiar voice spoke up from the doorway, Jordan forced herself to sit up on the couch, staring at their captor with a pained expression.

She knew him.

Of course she knew him.

He had set his trap, sent her his badge, knowing she would use it… and she had fallen for it.

The man who haunted her nightmares smiled sadly at her. “Not happy to see me?”

She blinked, shaking her head slowly. “Hello again, Hunter.”

#writing #fantasy #violence #elves #mermaids #dwarves #fairies #apocalypse #action #part 2 is here!#Will answer asks with next pfts part

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delaber · 3 years

Text

Coming Home

Note: The fic no one asked for but I still wrote because I had to. Pretty sure this will be my last Rafa fic. It’s been a ride. Thank you!

Words: 7.7K

It was one of those blisteringly hot days where all you wanted to do was to laze about in front of a fan with your feet up and eat popsicles in the hopes of cooling just a tiny bit down. The sun was scorching and there was little to no wind at all, making it close to unbearable to be out of the shade for more than two minutes at a time - but unfortunately, you found yourself stuck in the middle of a very sunny lawn at Nat's garden-themed birthday party. Several times during the day, you had caught yourself looking jealously towards the enticing pool area at the end of the lawn but unfortunately had to settle for self-administered time-outs in the shade under various palm trees that were lining the garden.

At one of said time-outs, the birthday girl Nat approached you with a huge smile and two drinks in hand, "oh, there you are!" She exclaimed happily as she reached the same tree as you and handed you one of the piña coladas she was holding, "I've been looking all over!"

"Sorry," you smiled at your best friend and accepted the cocktail she was offering you, "I needed to cool down for a bit," you said while fanning your hand in front of your face

"Ooh, great idea - make room for me," Nat too stepped under the shade of the palm tree and immediately started fanning her top, "Jesus Christ, it's hot today!"

"Well, you were the one to insist on not having gazebos for your party," you shot your best friend a small smile, "it ruins the aesthetic," you mimicked her words from a few days ago with a laugh.

"Oh, shut up!" Nat let out a chortle, "I clearly made a terrible decision."

"Yeah, you should always listen to me and Diggs," you chuckled while having a sip of your tropical drink, enjoying how it slowly seemed to lower your core temperature as soon as the cold liquid hit your oesophagus.

"Hey, speaking of; have you seen him?" Nat squinted her eyes while shooting her phone a glance, "he's not answering any of my texts."

"I talked to him over by the snacks a little over an hour ago," you pointed over your shoulder, "he said he had to take off for a bit."

"He had to take off?" Nat furrowed her eyebrows, looking directly at you with disbelief written all over her face. From her expression alone, you could tell what was going through her head; as Nat's long-term boyfriend, Diggs knew exactly how important her birthday was to her. "That's seems a bit out of character..." she mumbled sadly.

"Aww, don't worry - he'll be back in a bit."

"What was so important for him to do on today of all days?" Nat sounded crestfallen.

"Come on Nat, what kind of an errand could he possibly have to run on his girlfriend's birthday?" You rolled your eyes.

"...But he already got me a present," she fiddled with the shiny new bracelet around her wrist.

"Maybe he's getting you a surprise," you shrugged mysteriously.

"Really?" The sad look on Nat's face was quickly replaced by wide eyes accompanied by a broad smile, "A surprise?"

"Don't tell him I said anything!" you laughed.

"Well, did he tell you what it was?"

"Nope... He probably knew we'd end up having this conversation," you chuckled.

"Slick bastard," Nat muttered under her breath before her voice returned to normal, "well, I hope he gets back soon. Of course I'm excited about the surprise but I don't want him missing out on the party."

As if on cue, a loud clanking noise coming from the shrub-embedded gate at the other end of the lawn had both you and Nat whip your heads around; Diggs had stepped inside the closed-off garden with a huge smile plastered on his face, stopping as soon as his feet hit the soft grass. He scanned the area for the birthday girl, and when his gaze finally landed on Nat, you watched how his face immediately turned soft as their eyes met across the lawn.

"Ah, there he is," Nat sighed happily as she took in her handsome boyfriend.

"...yeah, but he's empty handed," you added with a sigh after a quick scan for a birthday present in his open palms.

"Oh, you're right. Must be something he can stow away in a pocket..."

"Or something that's too heavy for him to carry alone," you added.

"Either way I'm just glad he's back," Nat said dreamily and send Diggs a small wave to which he replied with a sappy smile and a wink.

"Ah, I'm third-wheeling so hard right now," you gagged and with a grin turned your back towards Diggs in the hopes of making it less awkward for yourself.

"Yeah, sorry babe," Nat was biting her lower lip, trying to contain herself as she gazed at her handsome boyfriend over your shoulder.

"You look terribly confused all of a sudden," you laughed as you took in Nat's furrowed eyebrows.

"Yeah, he's just... standing there - why is he not moving?"

"What? He's standing completely still?" you arched an eyebrow, looking at Nat who still wasn't sparing you a glance.

"No, he's... looking for something on the other side of the hedges. And he's talking to someone - I think?"

"On the phone?"

"No... - oh wait, looks like he brought someone along."

"He brought someone?" you repeated curiously, "who?"

"I don't know. I don't recognise him..." Nat looked confused as she squinted her eyes, trying to focus on what was happening at the other end of the lawn. Then suddenly, her face changed, "- hey, is that...? No - wait... - Oh my god! It is!" She finally whipped her head around, looking directly at you with huge eyes, "he's here."

"...Who is?" you looked at her confused.

Nat didn't have time to answer your question before a male voice that you didn't immediately recognise rang from behind you, "Ey yo, Nat!"

"I'm sorry..." Nat whispered, "- but I have to..." she shot you a pained look before she moved past you with a squeal as she briskly walked away from the shade under the palm tree.

Confused, you spun around and scanned the lawn for Diggs and his mystery companion. Diggs had put on one of his more colourful outfits, and your eyes were immediately drawn to him and the smug smile he was wearing as he took in Nat who was now running at full-speed towards a sharp-dressed man to his right.

"Rafa!" Nat exclaimed loudly as she fell into the well-dressed man's arms, "you're here! I can't believe it!" she squealed.

The mere sound of his name made the hairs on the back of your neck stand while the blood quickly drained from your face. You instantly felt your throat go dry and your head dizzying as Nat's words rang in your ears. Rafa was here? Rafa as in Rafael? No, it couldn't be...

You adjusted your gaze slightly but sure enough; there he was. In the middle of the lawn in a tight embrace with your best friend. None other than Rafael Casal.

That. Fucking. Prick.

"You're kidding me..." you mumbled under your breath.

What the fuck was he doing here?!

You immediately felt your heart rate increasing and your palms getting sweaty as you took him in. He had grown a beard and cut his hair short, making the area above his forehead strangely lonely without its familiar swoop of hair that he had been so fond of back when you had known him. Your eyes travelled across his face that was plastered with the toothy grin you had once loved, and down to the strong arms that you had once known every vein of. There weren't any tattoos on his arms that you didn't recognise but he had definitely built more muscle mass since the last time you'd seen him.

You had to admit that even though you were more than regularly annoyed with him, he looked good - he just didn't look like Rafa. Not your Rafa at least. He looked more man than jokester, a ghost of the boy you'd once called yours.

When the tight embrace in front of you finally ended, Rafa straightened up and looked over Nat's shoulder, his green eyes immediately piercing through you. He did a quick scan of you from the tip of your sneakers to the top of your head, and if it hadn't been for the fact that you knew that you looked good in your new dress, you might have grown flustered under his intense stare - but you didn't. He could stare all he wanted and meanwhile use the opportunity to think about what he had let go of - what he was missing out on!

He looked you up and down a few times and when his eyes reached yours, he sent you a tentative look and a careful smile that you didn't reciprocate. After all, pretending that Rafael Casal meant absolutely nothing to you was something you had perfected over the years.

When he finally realised that your face would remain stone cold and without the smallest trace of friendliness, he quickly looked back at Nat and sent her a broad smile as she began mumbling something to him about how he was the last person she'd expected to see today.

Meanwhile, you used the opportunity to march over to Diggs and pull him aside; "what the hell do you think you're doing?!" You hissed at him, your voice so low that only he could hear.

"Oh, I'm just watching my best friend and my girl reconcile after years apart," he smirked, his eyes still locked on the two friends talking excitedly in the middle of the lawn.

"Don't get smart with me, Diggs!" You said through gritted teeth, "why the fuck didn't you tell me that he was coming? You know how I feel about him! He's a snake!"

"Jesus Christ," Diggs rolled his eyes, "This is exactly why I didn't want to tell you. If you'd known that I was picking him up at the airport, you would've ended up faking an excuse to leave before I'd returned."

"And with good reason! You know what he did! I don't want to talk to him!"

"You need to resolve this shit between the two of you," he shrugged, "You need to learn to be in the same room as him. It's been way too long already, and it cannot go on like this forever."

"Oh, watch me!" You huffed childishly, looking over at Rafa's dumb smile as he said something incoherent to Nat.

"Bruh..." Daveed cocked his head and sent you an unimpressed look, "He didn't come to mess with you. He came for Nat... He misses her."

"- but," you tried to interject but Diggs immediately cut you off: "- And before you say anything -" he continued, "- look at how happy she is!" he gestured to Nat who had now gone back to hugging Rafa tightly, "I know that her loyalty to you dictates that she has to hate him or whatever, but she has clearly missed him too. So if you can't do it for yourself, please just behave yourself for Nat."

A guilty pang hit your chest when you looked at Nat's happy smile, and you realised that she had cut off all contact with Rafa for your sake. "For the record; I never told her she couldn't talk to him," you mumbled.

"I know," Diggs nodded, "that's just how good of a friend she is."

"Alright... I'll behave for Nat," you sighed with a slight scowl before you quickly continued, "- but I'm not going to talk to him! No way!"

Diggs shot his hands in the air in a surrendering manner, "hey: normal, regular behaviour is all I'm asking for! You can ignore him for all I care - just be civil."

You didn't answer Diggs but instead continued to scowl as you watched Rafa and Nat having a giggle about something. The sound of Rafa's obnoxiously loud laugh swimming in your ear canals made your stomach go annoyingly warm, and for a millisecond you actually wished that he was laughing at something dumb alongside you instead of Nat - or at least you wished for it until you reminded yourself of what he had done, and the familiar anger towards him soon returned.

"Aw, come on," Diggs let out a laugh when he saw your angry face. He gave your shoulder a playful shove before he put his arm around you, "let's get you a drink - you look like you need it."

"Yes, I need it!" you groaned as he led you away from Nat and Rafa, "- and a big one too 'cause my dumb friends had my nemesis fly in from New York behind my back."

Diggs laughed a little at your miserable tone of voice, "cheer up," he chuckled, pulling you a little closer, "...and to be fair, I did the inviting. Nat had nothing to do with this."

"God, you're the worst," you mumbled as you reached the self-service bar, "I cannot believe you'd spring this on me after what he did!"

"Come on. It's been three years," Daveed shrugged and smiled down at you before he pulled out two clean glasses.

"That's easy for you to say when you weren't implicated in it," you mumbled sourly without looking directly at him.

"I may not have been directly involved, but you know I still got caught up in the middle," Diggs sent you a short look before he poured both of you a drink, "- and I still am."

"How?" You said incredulously, "I literally never talk about him."

"Exactly," Diggs shot you a sideways glance as he screwed off the cap of a tonic water, "you never talk about him. It's forced."

"It's forced? Since when is not talking about your asshole of an ex-boyfriend forced?"

"I know you miss him," Diggs said softly and sent you a careful look.

You forced yourself to scoff as you accepted the gin tonic from him, "I have no idea what you're talking about! I literally could not care less about Rafael at all," you looked across the lawn and immediately caught Rafa's gaze that was aimed directly at you. His eyes were huge, his gaze soft and longing. You thought to yourself that he looked as if he was the one who'd been wronged all those years ago. As if you were the one who had disappeared off to New York before royally fucking everything up. Which you absolutely weren't!

Rafa had been annoying as hell all night! Whenever you were no more than a few milliseconds away from letting down your hair and forget about the fact that your nemesis was attending the same party as you, you could hear his annoying foghorn of a laugh in the group of people next to you. And although you were trying your absolute best to avoid him completely, he still seemed to be all over, somehow always within a ten-foot radius from you, his cutting-torch-like voice constantly poking at your eardrums.

You were successful in avoiding him up until around midnight when you unfortunately were careless enough to lay down your guard for a few seconds too long, not realising that he had approached you at the self-service bar while you had been looking around for a lime for your drink. "Hey," you heard a low growl behind you as you were cutting the citrus into wedges.

You didn't have to look up from the table to know who the voice belonged to. "Rafael," you said neutrally while screwing off the cap of the tequila bottle you were holding, pouring up a couple of ounces of liquid without sparing him a glance.

"Hmm... Ra-fa-el," he repeated slowly, dragging out the name and smacking his lips as if savouring how it rolled off his tongue, "you know what? I don't think I've ever heard you call me Ra-fa-el before."

With your gaze still firmly placed on the tequila-filled glass in front of you, you arched an eyebrow but didn't say anything as you continued working on the cocktail, desperate to not give in to his antics.

You could feel his gaze burning on your skin, his eyes following your every move as you poured Cointreau into the cocktail glass and quietly waited for him to leave you alone again. He didn't budge, however, and when he realised that you intended to keep your silence, he quietly asked, "...How are you doing?"

"Great," you said and pressed your lips firmly together.

"Good..." Out the corner of your eye, you could see his head bopping up and down as he took you in, "I - uhm - I always liked you in green, you know," he grinned cockily. You knew he was just acting this way to get your attention but annoyingly enough; it was working for him. His comment made you dart your eyes towards him, shooting him an unimpressed sigh that he reciprocated with a careful smile, anxious to see if his compliment had tugged at your heartstrings. But even though his words had made your head dizzy and your diaphragm contract considerably, you still managed to keep a straight face as you took him in. His gaze was soft and satisfied, and a strange feeling hit your guts when you looked into his green eyes for the first time in over three years. Seeing the familiarity of his overly confident gaze made you realise that he hadn't exactly turned into the destructive villain that you had made him out to be after he had moved to New York three years ago. Behind the masculine beard and the buzzcut, the jokester with the soft chin and the long quiff was still in there. Your Rafa was still in there, and for a tenth of a second it made your heart ache as you wished for a time that he had long ago ruined.

He had clearly realised that you were checking him out because slowly, yet surely, his smirk grew considerably while he maintained eye-contact. It made you furious! He. Did. Not. Have. The. Upper. Hand. Taking in your angry expression, he shifted the weight on his feet while giving out a low chuckle, "I guess what I mean to tell you is that you look good. Like really good! - even when you're fuming."

"You look old," you stated flatly to make him stop feeling so overly confident.

To your dismay, however, he wasn't the least bit hurt by your comment but instead spluttered happily and let out a loud laugh, making the crow's feet around his green irises dance around as his eyes squinted tightly together in amusement. He looked irritatingly handsome, and it made you even more annoyed with him; he wasn't supposed to be amused by your low blow, he was supposed to be devastated!

You chewed your bottom lip as he annoyingly confident ran a hand through his beard and took you in with his forever playful smile. The fairy lights surrounding the self-service bar caught something shiny around his wrist as he caressed his chin, and you recognised the piece of metal immediately. It made you scoff, "you really still have that?" You nodded towards the golden band around his arm that you had given him for his 25th birthday some years ago. Even though it had been quite expensive, you'd figured that he had thrown it out long ago.

"You're kidding me?" He said incredulously, furrowing his brows and fiddling with the shiny links around his arm, "of course I still have this! It means a lot to me, I wear it every day!" He sent you a tentative smile, once again checking to see if he was so lucky that his words had defrosted you.

He wasn't.

"What?" He asked with an amused twinkle in his eyes when he took in your unimpressed face, "I swear; It's one of my most treasured possessions."

"Rafael... Just..." You let out a small sigh and folded your arms across your chest, "- just drop the pleasantries and tell me why you're really here," you demanded, "I highly doubt you're here to small talk."

"Aw come on - I'm just here for Nat's party. I didn't come to stir shit up. I promise!" He looked at you with honest eyes, still with a trace of a smile on his lips.

"Then why are you attacking me at the drinks table?" You were surprised to hear how steady you managed to keep your voice when it felt as if your entire body was shaking.

"I just wanted to say hi," he shot you a careful look, taking in every movement of your facial muscles, "You've been avoiding me all day."

"Wonder why," you clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth, looking away from him.

"I know it seems like an unnecessary question but are you still angry with me?" He asked, his smile still in place but suddenly a bit stiff.

"I was angry at first. Now I don't really care about you anymore," you smiled overly-sweetly.

"Yeah okay," Rafa's stiff smile faltered a bit and it looked as if you'd finally managed to knock him slightly off his course. This probably wasn't how he had imagined the conversation to go. It was a nice feeling to see him slightly panicked. "Ehm..." he smacked his lips, "would you like me to leave?"

"Yes," you breathed, but even you could hear the thickness of the lie in your throat. Even though you were keen on keeping your distance to him, you were still terribly curious as to why he had passed you up three years after your horrible break-up. After all, it had ended in lies and angry tears.

His smirk turned amused, and he could barely hold back a triumphant chuckle when he spoke, "I can tell you're not being serious," he tilted his head to the side.

"My God, you are insufferable!" you said through gritted teeth, "just tell me why you're here!"

"Well..." he licked his lips before he slowly stated, "Sofía's pregnant."

He had barely finished pronouncing the word pregnant before you felt the blood immediately drain from your face. "You're... having a baby?" You breathed and blinked a few times, bracing yourself for his answer. After everything that had happened, you couldn't believe that the mental image of Rafa with someone else was still able to make your stomach ache horribly, and you were immediately reminded of the fact that you hadn't left him because you had fallen out of love with him.

"Am I having a...-? Oh God no!" He laughed when he understood, "Sofía as in my sister! My sister is pregnant! I'm about to be an uncle. Tio Rafa."

You felt a wave of relief wash over you when his words finally settled, and the blood quickly returned to your cheeks making them unbearably hot. "Well, congratulations then, I guess," you mumbled, trying to conceal your flustered face.

"Thanks!" He smiled proudly and put on a goofy expression.

"I still fail to see what your sister's pregnancy has to do with me."

"Well, you see..." he licked his lips, "Sofía and her boyfriend are constantly talking about baby-stuff, and who in their lives are important to them, and insurances, and dying wills, and things like that - and I guess it kinda made me think about stuff in my life too," he gave out an awkward shrug, shooting you a careful look, "you know... Unresolved matters and so on..."

"...and then you thought about me?" You scoffed.

"Yeah," he nodded carefully, "I miss you."

"Rafael..." you closed your eyes and sighed in disbelief.

"Oof," he winced and it made you open your eyes and look at him. "- could you stop calling me that?" He looked pained, "It's - it's weird!"

"Well it is your name, isn't it?"

"I know, I know... Hearing it from you is just - it's just weird..." he mumbled while rubbing his neck, "only strangers call me by my first name."

"We're practically strangers."

"We are?" He looked taken aback.

You shot him a sideways glance, "yes, we are Rafael," you sighed and watched how his nostrils did an involuntary twitch at the sound of his given name.

He merely grunted while shooting you a weird look.

"What?" You asked incredulously, "you don't agree?"

"No. No, not at all," he shook his head, "I know you."

"Not anymore you don't," you turned back to your drink, stirring it a little just to give your shaking hands something to do.

"I know every freckle of your body..." he said quietly, his voice so full of emotion that it made your heart ache. "I know why you have a scar on your left knee," he continued, "I know all your guilty pleasures. What makes you tick. Your likes. Your dislikes. Of course I realise that we didn't end optimally but you can't pretend that we don't know each other," he ran a hand through his beard.

As soon as the words had escaped his mouth, you shot him an angry look, "we didn't end optimally?!" You hissed at him, "well, it was your fucking choice to end it that way, wasn't it?"

"Ah, so you are still mad at me," He stated flatly, taking in your expression.

You managed to turn off some of the fire you felt in your eyes before you spoke, "No I'm not, Rafael. As I said, I don't care about you at all," you said coldly, "Is that all? Can I go back to my best friend's birthday party now, or are you in the mood to ruin yet another one of my nights?" You shot him a deadpan look.

"I can't force you to talk to me," he said quietly, his eyes huge with disappointment.

"What do you even want to talk about?" Your voice was laced with frustration, "it's been three years! I've moved on - I don't need this, Rafa!" You wanted to smack yourself when you realised that you had let his pet name slip.

"I just want to apologise. Properly..." he said quietly while awkwardly rubbing his elbow, decent enough to let the use of his nickname slide.

"Apologising is not going to change what happened."

"I know... but you still deserve a proper apology from the guy who hurt you."

You gave out a scoff but didn't say anything.

"Look," Rafa continued, "can you please just give me ten minutes alone with you? Some place quiet. Ten minutes and I swear, I'll never talk to you again if you don't want me to. I just want to tell you how sorry I am. I think we both need it."

You weighed the pros and cons. Maybe it would actually be good for you to get some closure so you could finally forget about him? You decided that you might as well try. It'd be nice to stop thinking about him for good. "Fine! You have ten minutes and not a second more!" you said sternly, "but let me be very clear about one thing: I am not doing this for you!"

"I know," he nodded slowly, and followed you to a deserted bench a little away from the rest of the party.

He sat down next to you with a content sound, "Cig?" he asked while holding out a crumbled package.

"I quit," you pushed the package away, your fingers briefly brushing over his. It made him smile slightly but he quickly concealed it by clearing his throat.

"Good for you," Rafa nodded while lighting a cigarette for himself, taking a long drag while looking at you. "So..." he said quietly, "I hear that you finally landed that job you used to work so hard for."

"If you just wanted to smoke cigarettes and small talk, we didn't have to go all the way back here," you crossed your arms.

"Tough crowd," he laughed, "come on. Just humour me for a bit... I miss talking to you."

You scoffed, "you have nine minutes and fourty-five seconds left, Casal."

"Nine minutes and fourty-five seconds," he nodded in agreement, "so... that job of yours - congratulations! Your hard work finally paid off, huh?" He tried again.

"Have you been stalking my linked-in?" You said sourly.

"Nah, Diggs gives me little updates," Rafa chuckled awkwardly, "-or he did for a while at least. Up until about a year ago when he got real angry with me," Rafa clenched his teeth tightly together, looking uncomfortable.

"Diggs got angry?" You said in disbelief. Out of the two, Rafa was definitely the hot-headed one.

"Oh shit, yeah!" He nodded with a laugh, "I know it's hard to believe because it's such a rare occurrence but that just made it so much scarier! For a second, I thought he would punch me in the face!"

"Well, that should teach you to keep your abnormally large nose out of my business," you scoffed slightly.

"That's what he said too," Rafa chuckled, "-and that if I wanted to know how you were doing, I should give you a call myself," he sent you a small smile, "- but I knew you would have my balls in a wrench if I suddenly called you up out of the blue."

"Correct."

He smiled, "yet here we are. Talking quietly without screaming at each other. My balls free as ever."

"You're lucky I left my wrench at home today, Casal."

He let out an amused snort and took another drag of the cigarette, "yeah, I can't believe my luck this evening," he smiled without looking at you, "hey, while we're on the subject of updates; I - uhm - I also want to let you know that I heard about your dad. I was very sad to learn about his passing."

You felt a sharp pain in your chest, and you held your arms a little closer to your chest, "Diggs told you about that too, huh?" You mumbled, unable to look Rafa in the eye. Even though little over two years had passed since your dad had died, thinking about him still hurt.

You felt Rafa nod beside you, "Yeah. He called me right after it happened... I know your dad meant a great deal to you. Meant a great deal to me too to be honest..." he sighed.

"I know..." you thought of the special bond the two men had always shared. Even long before you and Rafa had fallen in love, your dad had hoped that you would end up together.

"I was seconds away from flying home to see him off at the funeral, you know - but given how you and I ended things, I didn't think you should deal with me on top of losing your dad..." he shot you a sideways glance.

You decided not to tell Rafa about how you had woken up on the morning of the funeral, wishing that he had been there. Wishing that everything had magically gone back to normal overnight. Instead, you merely mumbled, "you should've come. My dad would've loved that... He always liked you."

"Yeah, I liked him too," Rafa nodded, "I still think about him every time I hear a terrible joke or see someone in a Laker's shirt."

"Oh god, all those fucking shirts," you groaned and thought of the hundreds of basketball shirts that your dad had had stacked neatly away in his closet. You couldn't believe that you had completely forgotten about them.

Rafa chuckled, "what did you end up doing with them? I imagine that you donated them in your dad's spirit."

"Naturally," you nodded and felt yourself uncross your arms for the first time since you'd sat down. "My mom kept one, and the orphanage got most but we auctioned off the rarest ones and gave the money to charity. That was what he wanted, you know."

"Ah, what an icon," Rafa sighed, "well, you should be proud of him and the work he did for the community. He was a great man. A proper role model for the bay."

You nodded in agreement while scanning Rafa. It was nice to talk about your dad with someone who knew him but who hadn't seen him fragile and sick. Someone who didn't think of him as his diagnosis, and you realised that for the first time since his passing, things actually seemed fairly back to normal. Sitting side by side with Rafa actually felt welcome and normal. Maybe you'd grant him a couple of minutes more of your time.

Rafa's eyes skirted away from you, and he nervously cleared his throat before he continued, "Uhm... not that it matters but did you - did you ever tell him about what happened between us?"

"My dad? No..." you shook your head with a sad sigh, "he loved you like his own son, and I didn't want to break his heart. So I just told him that we couldn't make the whole long distance-thing work."

"Oh, right... Thanks," Rafa nodded.

"I didn't do it for you."

"Still... I'm glad he didn't get to know that side of me. I'm not so sure he would've liked me if he'd known the truth about how I broke his daughter's heart."

"I'm not so sure either..."

"I - I hated myself after, you know," He looked over at you with a pained expression after a couple of seconds of silence, "I have never regretted anything more in my entire life."

"What? Not going to the funeral?"

"No. You know... What I did..." he said sheepishly.

"Oh..."

"The minute I woke up I - I wanted to undo everything," he looked at you pleadingly, "I felt so fucking terrible. Still do. I can't even think about it without wanting to stab myself. It is without a doubt the worst thing I have ever done, and I am so sorry for the pain it caused you," he said softly, "please understand that I didn't do it because I didn't love you. It wasn't because you weren't enough or something like that. You were perfect to me. I take full responsibility for the fuck-up, and I am so, so horribly fucking sorry!"

"Rafa, it's..." you gulped, the words somehow stuck in your throat. You were having a hard time acting as if his words meant nothing to you.

He carefully put his hand on top of yours before he continued, "do you think we would've been able to work around the long distance if I hadn't...?"

"Please don't..." you whispered and sent him a soft yet warning look, "I don't want to talk about what might've been."

"No, no of course not..." he nodded quietly, "I just - I can't believe it's been three years... Fuck baby I've missed you so bad," he carefully moved his thumb over the back of your hand and searched your face with furrowed eyebrows, "You have no idea of the relief I felt when I finally saw you today," he said quietly.

"Don't do this..." you closed your eyes and whispered.

Rafa continued as if he hadn't heard you, "I know we didn't work out the way neither of us pictured it but that doesn't mean you weren't the best thing that's ever happened to me..." he sounded desperate, and you couldn't look at him. The words he was saying was making you want to fall into his arms, "...I never should've let you go."

"Rafa," you sighed and summoned all your strength and looked into his glossy eyes, "you didn't let me go," your voice barely a whisper, "I broke up with you."

"I know, I know," his voice was oozing with pain, "but I hope you realise that I would've done everything to win you back. I would've come back to California if you'd only asked me to. Fuck the record deal."

"There was a reason why I didn't ask you to come back," you shot him a glance in warning, "you know that."

"Still, I should have done... something."

"You did exactly what I asked of you."

"Yeah... I stayed the fuck away from you," he mumbled. You could tell that he was replaying your last tearful conversation in his mind before he heaved a big gulp of air and glanced over at you with a valiant look in his eyes, "but I've come back to remind you who I really am."

"You don't have to remind me of anything... I remember who you were. What we had."

"Then let me be that guy for you again," he looked at you pleadingly.

"What's the point when you're still 3,000 miles away?" You sighed, "It's not as if we'll happen upon each other at the supermarket and go out for spontaneous coffees."

"Could be," he said with a small shrug, "I - uh - I'm moving back," he nervously ran his fingers through his short hair, "I want to be close to Sofía and the baby - and you."

"You're coming home?" You gulped. You couldn't believe him. Was this a good thing?

"Yes," he breathed, "And I want to try things out with you again. Please give me another chance..." his fingers moved from your hand to your knee. You briefly considered his words while you felt his thumb caress you through the green fabric of your dress. Right now, you were fighting hard to not give in to his embrace and the familiar set of lips in front of you, but you weren't sure how you'd feel about it come morning, so you remained poised.

He sensed your hesitation, however, and carefully put his forehead to yours "come on, baby," he said quietly and softly kissed your cheek, his lips warm against your skin.

"I don't know," you gulped as you involuntarily closed your eyes and breathed him in.

"It's okay," he said with whispered words, the stubble on his chin rough against your cheekbone, "you don't have to give me an answer right away," he gently kissed your jawline while his hand travelled from your kneecap to your fingertips, clearly desperate to remind you of what you could have back if you only agreed to let him in again.

"Rafa, I don't know," you said quietly although it was becoming harder and harder to remain steadfast and ignore his burning lips on your skin.

"Just consider it," he kissed the corner of your mouth, "I'll crawl. I'll beg," he whispered and pursed his lips against yours, "I'll do anything," he moved his body closer to yours, "just consider it," he whispered and placed a particularly gentle kiss to your already buzzing lips, "please baby."

You couldn't help yourself any longer and you involuntarily twitched your lips against his before you felt yourself being completely engulfed by him. The passionate kiss you shared was soft and bittersweet, reminding both of you of what had been.

His hands were caressing your neck and hairline and he hummed into your mouth as he savoured the feeling of finally having you kiss him back. "Fuck I've missed this," he gulped when he broke away and put his forehead to yours, his hand still on your cheek, "does this mean you'll at least consider it?"

"I'm still angry with you," you whispered without really answering his question.

"I know, love..." he caressed your cheek, "I was stupid," he searched your face, "it was a stupid mistake."

"Don't reduce it to a stupid mistake, Rafa," you whispered.

"Poor choice of words," he mumbled, "what I mean to say is that I hope you can forgive it," he placed a soft kiss to your jawline, "- forgive me."

"Even if I did forgive you, how do you expect me to ever trust you again?" You said quietly, and you knew that you couldn't dance around the elephant in the room any longer. "Rafa you had another girl's lips wrapped around your dick not even twenty-four hours after crying in my arms at the airport," you said with a heavy heart and watched him cringe his face at the harsh truth, "twenty-four after you'd sworn you'd do anything to make our relationship work despite the distance."

Rafa was still wincing when he spoke, "not that it's any excuse at all but I was exhausted and drunk and heartbroken," he croaked, "I had just left the love of my life behind in California... and this other girl was suddenly there and she got me high as balls and she-" he sighed without finishing his own sentence, "trust me when I say that it was the worst night of my life," he closed his eyes in a sad attempt at holding the tears at bay.

"Well at least you got a nice blowjob out of it." You smiled humourlessly, "I just wound up with all the lies you threw in my face."

"I never lied to you..." he mumbled, "I came clean as soon as you confronted me."

"How big of you!" you scoffed.

"Baby... I didn't tell you because I was so embarrassed," he gulped, the tears now evident under his green irises, "I wanted to throw myself off a cliff! I knew that if I told you, it would be the definite end of us," he looked at you with huge, bloodshot eyes, "I couldn't do that."

"I need you to understand that the worst part of it wasn't that you cheated on me. The worst part was that you pretended that nothing had happened at all," you couldn't tell whether the tears you felt in the corners of your eyes were from being angry or sad, "Imagine how dumb I felt when Diggs finally broke down and told me what you'd done," you said and Rafa suddenly couldn't hold back the tears any longer either.

"I wanted to tell you. Trust me, I wanted to," he sobbed.

"You had three weeks to say something to me for fuck's sake!"

"I'm so sorry," he whimpered.

"We facetimed every night for three weeks and you didn't say anything! You made a complete fool of me!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" his eyes fixed at his own feet.

"Rafa, look at me!" you said in a harsh tone of voice.

Immediately, his red eyes found yours. He looked as ashamed of himself as he possibly could, "I was a coward," he whimpered, "-and I knew didn't deserve you."

"Then what makes you think you deserve me now?" You said coldly.

"I have spent the last three years trying to forget about you and what happened but no matter what I do, you still linger in the back of my mind. Even after all this time you're the only one I can ever see myself with. I always return to you. On sleepless nights, you're dancing on the back of my eyelids. I see you in other girls when I pass them by on the street. You're in all my poetry. All my songs. I think about you constantly. Maybe I don't deserve you but I at least had to try."

"Rafa you broke my heart," you looked him dead in the eye and he visibly gulped, "you betrayed my trust and you did it in the most despicable way I could ever imagine. It's been three years and I still cannot believe that you of all people would do that to me. You were my ride or die."

"I can still be that," he said desperately, clinging on to the last bit of hope he had in him, "I'm still that guy! The guy who cheated on you that wasn't me! I wasn't myself! I'm aware of the agony it caused, and trust me: I've learned from my mistakes," he looked at you resolutely before he whispered, "I'm still your ride or die."

His words made your stomach hurt and you felt the heat rise throughout your body as your throat clenched tightly together. You felt suffocated and stood up from the bench so fast that black spots distorted your vision. "I can't do this!" you said desperately, "it's too much!"

"Okay," he gulped, looking up at you with desperation written across his face.

"I have to go back to the party. Nat expects me to be there for her."

"Alright," he gulped. He was having a hard time concealing his obvious disappointment.

"Don't look at me like that!" you whimpered, "what did you expect? That you could shed a few tears and everything would be alright again?"

"No, of course not..."

"Then don't look so fucking disappointed! You're making me feel like the bad guy and I haven't even done anything!"

"I know," he gulped.

"Yet you still think a drunk conversation erases everything? That I will take you back just because you're feeling sorry? You obviously don't realise the damage you caused."

"Then tell me!" He too stood up from his seat, "I want to make things alright again," he pleaded.

"I don't need you to make things alright again! I was doing just fine before you showed up!"

"Okay, I'm sorry," he sheepishly picked at his own elbow, "I just thought that maybe you felt the same way about me."

"I don't want you back!" You said roughly.

As soon as the harsh words had escaped your lips, you could see the heartbreak on his face; his cheeks paled, his lips quivered, a single tear left his right eye as he looked away. He ran his hand over the corners of his mouth, unable to look directly at you, "right," he said as a fresh set of tears formed in his eyes, "I'm sorry... I - uh - I had to try,” he sobbed although he was fighting to hold his voice steady, “I - uhm - I don't know what to say…”

"Don't say anything..."

"...so this is it?" His eyes found yours, "...for good?"

You nodded slowly but didn't say anything.

You watched how he opened and closed his mouth repeatedly without any words escaping him. He looked flustered, panicked almost when you turned around and stepped away from him. You could hear him panic-shift around behind you but he still didn't talk. He had probably expected you to take him back with open arms - anything but this!

Good. He deserved to fry a little.

And maybe you'd call him tomorrow. Just maybe.

#Rafael Casal #rafael casal x reader #Daveed Diggs #blindspotting #rafael casal fanfiction #rafael casal imagine #Bay boys

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firebendersimp · 3 years

Text

baby

summary: maybe bakugou katsuki doesn’t hate all the stupid pet names you call him as much as he says he does and maybe he doesn’t hate you as much as he pretends to.

warnings: female reader, swearing, jealousy, shoto todoroki slander (by bakugou), bakugou being a dumbass, mention of ‘dynam*ght’, aizawa exists.

word count: 2k

a/n: i fully blame @astroninaaa for this, i was just minding my business not simping for someone named dynamight and then she bullied me into watching bnha and now there’s a 2k fic. but go follow her writing blog @patchofsunlight.

There was a reason why Katsuki Bakugou didn’t remember the names of the students in his class and it wasn’t because they were just useless extras like he claimed. He was afraid, afraid of making connections with these people, afraid of having to depend on them. But if his classmates scared him, then he was terrified of you. He had tried to treat you like he treated the rest of them, tried to forget your name like it meant nothing to him but it was like someone had engraved it into the back of his mind. He was always thinking about you, he noticed your absence when you were late. At first he’d assumed it was part of your quirk that you were like Shinsou and you had brainwashed him into having feelings for you- not that he had feelings for you- that was an absurd notion and he was probably just sick or something. Or at least that’s what he told himself and just as he’d managed to convince himself that he had just caught some weird virus, you had looked at him with that stupidly pretty smile and asked, “Is something wrong, Bakugou baby?” And he faltered, it was like his brain just shut down. After that you were relentless, constantly calling him increasingly stupid pet names like, “pretty boy”, “babe”, “my love”, “honey” and then there was your favourite, “baby”.

You slid into the seat next to him, your head resting on his shoulder as you shuffled closer, looking at the notepad in front of him. “Are these your ideas for pro hero names?” He grunted in what you assumed was a yes but it was hard to tell. You leaned closer, pointing out a particular name, sitting up slightly, your lips against his ear and your hand just above his knee, “Just so you know babe, dynamight sounds stupid but you could be dynamine.” You were so close that you could feel the heat radiating off his body as he processed what you had just said. You pulled away before he started screaming, a laugh escaping your lips. You didn’t notice how he didn’t yell or tell you to shut up or how he was looking at you like you were something worth looking at like he was entranced by you. Of course he didn’t say that, just shook his head mumbling something about your terrible sense of humour.

You may not have noticed the difference in him, but Kaminari, Kirishima, Mina, and Sero had taken notice of how he no longer complained about the pet names he claimed to hate, or how his voice softened ever so slightly whenever your name escaped his lips, or the way the corners of his lips curled into an unconscious smile whenever you were in his line of sight. They never comment on it, out of concern that he’d withdraw back into himself if they pointed it out to him and they weren’t entirely sure what was going on with him but it seemed like it was good for him, like you were good for him. But they could see that it was like you were stuck in this weird phase with him where you both had obvious feelings but neither of you wanted to be the one to make the next step and it seemed like nothing was going to happen....unless they took matters into their own hands and so a plan was formed.

As soon as class ended on Friday morning, Mina marched over to your desk with a dangerous look in her eyes as she seized your hands with her own, “Sooooo y/n, what are you doing this weekend?” She was staring at something behind you as she spoke but you decided to ignore it as you told her that you didn’t have any plans. Her eyes lit up and she squeezed your hands, “Can I set you on a blind date? Just say yes and I’ll owe you one.”

“Okay I guess?” She beamed and darted off to chatter excitedly with Kaminari. There was a crashing noise as Bakugou stormed out the classroom, slamming the door behind him and it was only then that you remembered that he sat in the desk behind you, she had been staring at him while she was talking to you.

As the weekend drew closer you were plagued by the same thoughts, swirling through your mind, nerves about this blind date, wondering why Bakugou seemed angrier than usual, and wondering why Mina wanted you to go on this date, did she like Bakugou? Was she trying to get you out of the way? Not that you were in the way, you and Baku were just friends, right? But now you were questioning it, you found yourself wondering if it was normal for the sound of a friend’s voice to constantly linger in the back of your mind or if it was normal to keep catching yourself staring at a ‘friend’.

You got to the café an hour early and as you were waiting for the other person to show up, your mind started to wonder. Maybe- maybe this person you were waiting for, maybe it was Bakugou. Maybe he had the same confusing feelings that you had been experiencing for the past year. As the hour dragged by, you were certain that he was about to step through the door any second now and then the door finally swung open and your heart dropped as you made eye contact with the mismatched eyes staring back at you. Todoroki slowly made his way over to you and you scrambled through your mind for something to say to him, something that wasn’t, “Why are you here?” He slid into the chair opposite you, the chair that had been praying would be occupied by someone else but you offered him a small smile as you attempted to suppress the disappointed feeling in your chest. “Hello Y/n.” He smiled and you felt the guilt creep in, “Hi Todoroki.”

His face scrunched up momentarily before the smile reappeared, “Call me Shouto, please.” His hand reached across the table, his fingers interlocking with yours as he spoke. And the guilty feeling became stronger, guilt from being disappointed after all, there was no denying that Shouto was beautiful with a voice you could listen to for hours and a guilt you couldn’t really name, you just knew that this feeling had Bakugou’s face attached to it.

So wrapped up in whatever Shouto was talking about you didn’t notice the table where Sero, Denki, Kirishima, and Bakugou were sitting just out of sight after being dragged there by Mina who was chattering excitedly about ‘how well it seemed to be going’ to a bored looking Sero. All while Bakugou was quietly seething as he watched that ‘half and half bastard’ holding your hand and leaning in unnecessarily close as he talked to you about something stupid. He didn’t notice how the conversation around him died down as his friends shared a knowing look.

Shouto walked you back to your dorm, his arm occasionally brushing against yours as he told you some story. The date had been perfect, everything went right and Shouto was so nice and sweet but there was nothing there. The only thing this date really achieved was that there was no longer any doubt that you did have feelings for Bakugou and he could never know. It would be disastrous if he ever found out.

He knew. Somehow he either found out or just figured out that you had feelings for him, he must have, why else would he be avoiding you? But you’d been wrong before like when you were certain that he liked you back so maybe there was another way to find out why he was avoiding you. You waited until class was over and everyone had left and then you cornered Kirishima in the empty hallway, asking, “Why is Bakugou avoiding me?”

His eyes widened and he glanced over his shoulder to check no one else was there before he answered, “He’s not avoiding you and even if he was, how should I know?”

“You’re his best friend, you’re the only one he tells anything to.”

He scoffed, “Best friend? I doubt he even knows my name.” But there was something in his eyes, he knew more than he was letting on.

So you tried again, “Does he kn- think that I have feelings for him?”

“You have feelings for-”

“I said ‘does he think I do’, of course I don’t have fucking feelings for him.” You spat, your voice a little harsher than necessary but you reasoned that it didn’t matter. And perhaps you’d be right if Bakugou wasn’t waiting around the corner, listening in on your conversation.

Talking to Kirishima didn’t clear anything up, in fact it might have made things worse, Bakugou had started avoiding you even more, the only time you saw him was during class and then he’d refuse to look at you and just act like he couldn’t hear you if you tried to talk to him. And if that wasn’t bad enough, Aizawa had decided to make him your partner for a very important project, sometimes you wondered if he took some sort of sadistic pleasure out of partnering students that hated each other for important things. Not that you hated Bakugou, but you were pretty sure that he hated you now as you sat with him in his dorm as he stared at everything but you. You stared at your hands as you finally broke the silence, “You know you can’t ignore me forever.” He didn’t say anything but you could feel his eyes burning into you, “Look you can go right back to pretending I don’t exist after this but I’d rather not fail this project just cause you hate me or whatever.”

“Like you want to be doing this with me.” He finally spoke and your eyes darted up to meet his gaze.

“What are you talking about?”

He scoffed, staring back up at the ceiling, “I’m sure you’d rather be doing this with your stupid fucking boyfriend.”

You shifted closer to him and his eyes flickered down to study your face, “Are you talking about Shoto?”

His face contorted in disgust, “You call him by his first name?”

“He asked me to.”

He rolled his eyes, “Fucking bastard gets everything he wants, does he?” His voice was venomous but then his voice dropped to a whisper as he stared at his hands, “You’ve never called me by my first name.”

“I thought you hated me, why do you care?”

He let out a humourless laugh, turning to look at you, “Don’t you get it? I never hated you, I love you. But I know you don’t feel the same way.” You frowned and he sighed, running a hand through his hair, “I heard you talking with Kirishima, it’s fine, I get it, I’m kind of a dick all the time.”

You stared at your hands as you shifted closer to him, your shoulder brushing against his, “I was lying to Kirishima when I said that I didn’t have feelings for you. I was afraid he’d tell you. I love you too, even if you are a dumbass.”

He bumped his shoulder against yours, “Don’t call me stupid, stupid.” His hand came up to your face, slowly tilting your chin up, his eyes searching yours as if he was scared that you would take it all back at any second but he was taking too long so you leaned closer, pressing your lips against his.

He pulled away, an unconscious smile slowly creeping across his face, “Say it again. Tell me you love me again.”

“I love you Bakugou Katsuki and I’ll say it as many times as you need me to.” The smile on his face widened and his arms slipped around your body, tugging you closer to him.

He watched you smiling while you talked to him with his face cupped in your hands and he finally felt like he must be doing something right if he’d managed to make someone as wonderful as you fall in love with him.

tagging: @loversamongus

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years

Note

skdjjshddjdjsj au where jin guangshan dies early (and by early i mean exactly 2 days before the phoenix mountain hunt) and jin guangyao is panicking bc oh no his carefully laid plans, and oh no his hunt that he’d put so much effort into organizing, it’s gonna be all ruined... unless... he can keep this under wraps... and so he manages to talk jin zixuan into helping him “weekend at bernie’s” it! cue a half-sibling bonding experience of pretending your shitty dead dad is alive for Politics™

“I’m afraid our father’s not here right now,” Jin Guangyao said with a smile, and ground his heel down on Jin Zixuan’s foot.

“I think he went out,” Jin Zixuan said unconvincingly, and he only mostly looked like he was about to murder someone, possibly Jin Guangyao himself. He redeemed himself a moment later by adding, “Would you like us to send a messenger? I can ask my mother –”

“No need, no need!” the visiting sect leader said quickly, clearly having flashes of what Jin Guangshan might have ‘gone out’ to do (or rather, who) and the reaction of Madame Jin if she found out about it.

In all truth, Jin Guangyao might have preferred that to the truth, which was that Jin Guangshan’s stone-cold corpse was currently stuffed into a linen closet right behind the sect leaders that had come looking for him.

How he had died remained, at the moment, a mystery, but either way it was extremely inconvenient. Jin Guangyao had only recently been admitted into the Jin sect and his position was still very unstable – and he most certainly did not want to be blamed, given that he had gotten his current position by virtue of assassinating a different sect leader that trusted him.

He politely showed the sect leaders out, closed the door, and turned to look at his half-brother. Soon to be his sect leader.

“I didn’t kill him,” he said.

“No, I don’t think you did,” Jin Zixuan said, and rubbed his nose. “Why hide him, though?”

“The Phoenix Mountain hunt has already kicked off! The sect’s entire reputation hinges on it.”

“And yours.”

Jin Guangyao shrugged, because it was true. After this, people would accept him as a true member of the Jin sect; if it failed before it even began, he’d be the recently accepted bastard son forever. “You played along,” he pointed out, a little curious.

“…I invited Miss Jiang to accompany me in the hunt, and if my father dies before I propose, the next time I can propose is in three years.”

“Okay,” Jin Guangyao said. “We’re in agreement. Here’s the plan…”

“I don’t know if this is going to work,” Jin Zixuan said, tugging at the sect leader clothing. “I don’t look that much like him.”

“It’ll only be from the back,” Jin Guangyao assured him. “Now – go!”

“Shit! Someone’s coming!”

“Shit. Here, grab him – put him somewhere!”

“Somewhere? Where?! There’s nowhere!”

“Under the bed! Under the bed!”

“There’s not enough time!”

“Hold on, I can throw my voice over to the other room; I’ll try to mimic him –”

“You’re a ventriloquist?”

“So what? It’s not that hard. Now shut up and let me focus.”

“I’m terribly sorry, Sect Leader Yao,” Jin Zixuan said insincerely. “As you can see, Sect Leader Jin is drunk.”

“Dead drunk,” Jin Guangyao said, still a little punch-drunk from the close call earlier.

Now it was Jin Zixuan’s turn to step on his foot.

“This early in the morning?” Sect Leader Yao asked, blinking.

“Lanling is a free-spirited place,” Jin Guangyao said with a smile that only looked slightly forced.

“Yes,” Madame Jin said from the doorway, her voice dry. “You’d be amazed at what people can get away with.”

Jin Guangyao nearly choked, and Jin Zixuan turned pale. “Right,” Jin Guangyao said, recovering through sheer force of will. “Excuse me, I think Madame would like a word…”

Sect Leader Yao left, and Madame Jin looked at the two of them. “You’re going to have to think of something better than what you’ve done so far,” she said flatly. “The closing ceremony is tomorrow. It would be impossible for him to miss it.”

“It’s fine,” Jin Zixuan said. “I have an idea.”

“This feels deeply unethical,” Wei Wuxian said.

“I know exactly what you did in the war,” Jin Guangyao hissed at him. “Up to and including Wen Chao.”

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t do it!” he exclaimed. “You only need him to walk up there and do the thing, right? No talking or anything?”

“That’s right,” Jin Zixuan said. “Thank you.”

“I’m only doing it because you’re getting engaged to shijie,” Wei Wuxian said. “I still don’t understand why she likes you, but I don’t want her waiting three years – you’ll set the date soon, right?”

“My mother’s already working on it,” Jin Zixuan said. “We should have a date ready in the next day or two, and then we can reveal – well, this. As long as the date is set, it can continue without violating mourning laws, since it would be my filial duty to continue with my father’s final arrangement.”

“Right,” Wei Wuxian said. “Okay. I’ll do this. By the way, who murdered him?”

“…you know, I almost forgot about that,” Jin Guangyao said thoughtfully while Jin Zixuan hit his hand against his forehead in despair. “We should probably figure that out, shouldn’t we?”

#mdzs #jin guangyao #jin zixuan #wei wuxian #madame jin #my fic #my fics #crack fic #what like it's hard #never actually saw weekend at bernies but I can guess #Anonymous

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manonblaqkbeak · 3 years

Text

The Little Bookshop

here’s my contribution for day 28--bookshop au. just one more story to go and i’ll be officially done with rowaelin month!!

cw: very light mention of female infertility. and verrrrrrrry light smutty language. (if theres any i missed, pls dont hesitate to let me know!)

2.7k words

enjoy!! :)

Aelin woke up surrounding by the arms of a furnace. That furnace being her six foot four husband. Normally, she would love waking up like this, but with summer arriving early and the very fact that she could spend all day like this despite the heat and the million things they had to do today it was not something Aelin could love at this very moment.

Kicking off the cotton sheets, Aelin tried to leave the bed but to no avail. Rowan's grip tightened in his sleep and he mumbled something that might have been “five more minutes”.

Knowing very well that “five more minutes” could turn into another hour, Aelin told her husband that she had to pee, otherwise she was going to wet the bed.

That worked, and Rowan planted a kiss between her shoulder blades as he turned over, facing the curtains.

A small mischievous smile found its way to Aelin's mouth as she quietly walked over to the cream blackout curtains and yanked them back, flooding their bedroom with the bright morning sun.

Rowan groaned at the rude interruption, flopping over on his stomach to avoid the sun. But Aelin simply back over and took the sheets and his pillow away from him (and because she could, she admired his muscled back, but soon came back to reality when all the things they had to do came flooding back).

“It's too early to be tortured like this,” Rowan mumbled, his green eyes finding hers. “And I thought you were about to wet yourself.”

Aelin gave him her best simpering smile. “A little lie. Now, get up, because we need to get started on the day.”

Grumbling at the sun still blinding him and the fact that he wife was always far too energetic in the morning, Rowan put on his summer slippers and shuffled into the kitchen behind his wife, who turned into a pale pink blur as she whirled around the kitchen, taking out the slow cooker and the dry ingredients for their dinner, the pumpkins and sweet potato and the peelers, and the Brussels sprouts that had to be halved. She rattled on about the guest room and the living room, going on and on and on.

They had been married for five years, together for seven, and Rowan still had no idea where she got all this energy in the morning from—especially considering that she would often tell people that she was not a morning person. He couldn't even comprehend most of what she was saying until he had his water and coffee.

After downing his water and turning on the coffee pot, Rowan heard Aelin muttered something about the roof gutters needing cleaning as she peeled the sweet potatoes over the sink, Rowan gently placed his hands on her face and kissed her.

“Breathe,” was all he said.

“I don't have time to do something like that, there's just so much to do.”

Rowan kissed her again and again until Aelin relaxed to his touch slightly. “I know how important this day is to you,” he said to her gently, “for us and the store, but I promise that everything will be fine.”

Aelin dumped the sweet potato and peeler in the sink and wrapped her arms around his bare waist, hugging him tightly as she rested her head on his chest. Taking a deep breath, Aelin smelled the homely scent of Rowan. When she had first meet him, he had been a surly bastard, but she couldn't deny that he smelled good. It was the main thing that drew her to him, that he always smelled like home.

His personality, however, was abrupt as her own back then. But they had worked to better themselves, both individually and then as friends and then beyond, when that friendship turned into something more.

To this day, Aelin never thought that she would have married the scowling bookshop owner she met when she moved to Doranelle. That the man who she thought really shouldn't be in customer service would become the most important person to her. She often told people that Rowan was her soulmate, that there was no better word to describe what he was to her.

Rowan ran his hand up and down her cotton-clad back, the motion always making her melt. “It's just,” she found herself saying after long minutes, “this is such an important day not just for us, but for Elide. It's her first book tour and I want it to go well. I would hate it if something went wrong.”

“Nothing will go wrong,” Rowan assured his wife.

“Unless you've developed psychic abilities overnight,” Aelin said, her voice taking on her snarky tone when she was getting stressed, “there is not possible way you could know that.”

“No, I have not developed clairvoyant skills, but I know that things will work out because you were there every step of the way planning this event with Elide and her team, it will work out spectacularly.” He had helped when he could, but Aelin was best at planning things in their relationship. She knew when things needed to be better or more organised, her passion for creating eventful nights making them unforgettable—like his thirty-fifth birthday; months later and he was still finding eco-friendly glitter in their apartment. It was her passion that made the shop better, that made it inviting and comforting. Her passion helped Rowan to fall in love with the store he inherited from his late parents again. He had been weeks away from deciding to sell when Aelin first arrived, her golden hair practically blinding him from how brightly it shined.

Rowan didn't really like her at first (he didn't really like anyone back then), because she was just so damned loud and kept buying books that he loathed to restock because that meant dealing with people and orders and delivery drivers when all he wanted to do was to be left alone and look for work that didn't have to deal with the general public.

But things slowly started to change during her visits, when he was actually looking forward to her coming over instead of dreading it. Their friendship had started in the most unexpected of ways—the day that Aelin had purchased a book about living with infertility, and Rowan had sensed that if he said the wrong thing, then she would lash out from her vulnerability; so Rowan confessed to her that he had his own cousin, Sellene, had issues with fertility, but lived a completely well-rounded life and was happy.

The smile that Aelin gave Rowan when he said that...he would never forget it in a million years. It was full of relief, that he wasn't going to go on a tangent about how she wasn't trying hard enough to fix her fertility—all the shitty things he had overheard his older relatives say to Sellene.

And instead of leaving after buying her book, Aelin stayed and they talked until he closed, and hours after that, Aelin ordering pizza in the middle of it and they both devoured the food, and he walked her home. Aelin came over twice a day after that, until Rowan finally gathered the courage to ask her out, and here he was seven years later.

Rowan kissed her once more. “And if things go terribly wrong, then I'll help you forget.”

Aelin raised a golden brow. “And how will you do that?”

Rowan smirked and nipped her jaw. “With my teeth and tongue, Fireheart.” He chuckled at the sudden intake of breath from his wife and planted kisses along the column of her throat. Aelin leaned into him, but he moved away, grabbing his coffee to get the newspaper out front.

With a wink, he left his flustered wife, laughing under his breath when she called him a buzzard.

It was going to be a good day.

X X X X X X

It was the busiest Friday they had in several weeks, and Aelin wondered if it was because they knew that Elide was having her author talk that very night, and maybe some were hoping to meet her for free—but Elide wasn't going to be in the shop for hours. The last time Elide had texted her, she and Lorcan were going to lunch.

Sometimes, she couldn't believe her friend was a fully-fledged author. It was both of their dreams, and Aelin was utterly ecstatic that Elide had the courage to send her books out into the world. It was still Aelin's dream, but she was constantly doubting herself, and would talk herself down from pursuing that path.

One day, hopefully, she would learn to tell herself to shut up and reach out to potential publishers.

Finishing up her gift-wrapping, Aelin handed over the bundle of books to her latest customer when she overheard giggling.

It didn't take her long to find the source of the sound. Two teenage girls were currently ogling Rowan as he reached up to a high shelf for a short customer, his shirt rising up to expose a good amount of tanned, muscled skin.

Honestly, Aelin couldn't blame the girls. It was often she noticed this when she was on the shop floor, as she was often in the back dealing with the financial aspect of the business when she wasn't at her actual job at Doranelle University Library, but she had taken the last two weeks off to ensure that everything went well for this event tonight.

As long as adults didn't do it, she couldn't care less, otherwise she often felt like some damned territorial beast on the verge of baring her teeth and snapping at people to not undress her husband with her eyes.

Rowan liked it when she got territorial, and wished she did it more often.

Oblivious to the girls giggling, her husband kept reaching for more and more books, his skin on continuous display.

Maybe she should take more time off at work, since the views here were much better than looking at the faces of exhausted students.

Smiling, Aelin helped the next customer.

X X X X X X

Aelin's leg was bouncing anxiously next to Rowan, his wife fidgeting with her hands, swirling her emerald and gold ring around and around her finger.

In turn, it was making him nervous because seeing Aelin nervous set his whole system on fire—it was a rare sight to see her like this, but no matter how many encouraging words he would say, she wouldn't be calm until everything was done and went off without a hitch.

They were sitting in the front row, all the seats around and behind them full of eagerly awaiting fans to hear Elide talk about her new book in her series, their excitement-filled chatter reaching his ears. Lorcan was in the back, because Aelin had told him that while she liked that he was going on the book tour with Elide, his considerable height would be blocking people's view of Elide. To which he responded that people came to see Elide to hear her talk, not to look at her.

The scathing look from Aelin had Lorcan rolling his eyes but he went to the back, his considerable height no longer an issue—although Rowan did feel bad for the girl that was sitting behind him, considering he was six-four and broad, but there was no doubt that Aelin would let him move, so he stayed and would do his best not to ruin the night for those that he was blocking.

When Rowan noticed that it was 6:55, he brushed a kiss on Aelin's cheek and wished her luck as she went up to the spot where Elide would be talking, with Aelin asking the questions.

“Breathe,” he mouthed to her, and Aelin did, and as soon as she opened her mouth, the words came out smoothly and without a hint of her nerves—just as he knew they would.

X X X X X X

The night was a success, just like Rowan said and would be, and Aelin was still giddy hours later. After the talk, she helped take photos of fans with Elide, got out all the sharpies that she had purchased recently from the grocery store to ensure that Elide didn't run out of ink—because people wanted her to sign all of the books they owned by here and Elide was more than happy to do so.

Afterwards, Elide and Lorcan followed Aelin and Rowan into their apartment upstairs for dinner and Aelin was feeling just a little bit wine drunk, but she was just happy that everything worked out well and that Elide got to live her dreams.

Aelin and Rowan were currently down stairs, tidying up as they usually did just before they went to bed, with Rowan taking mental notes of all the shelves that were practically empty—because while people were waiting in line to get Elide's signature, they browsed the store and filled their colourful tote bags with mountains of books.

He wasn't complaining, but he still didn't like having to deal with restocking, but he would live.

Aelin was gazing dreamily at the cutout of the main character of Elide's story when Rowan came up next to her. “You could do it, you know,” Rowan said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

“I know,” was all she said.

“Then why don't you?” He read her stuff all the time, and maybe he was biased because she was his wife and soulmate, but he fucking loved her work, loved the detailed writing and descriptions that made it feel as if he was in the world she made up. But she knew how much he loved her stories, so instead of repeating himself, he said, “Elide could help you. She's been in the industry for a while now. So I'm sure whatever question you have, she can answer.”

“I know,” she said again, still just staring at the cutout. She turned to him, a determined look on his face. “How about we make a deal.”

Rowan raised a brow. “Okay...?” it wasn't often that Aelin included him in her schemes, usually preferring to shock him into an early grave.

She gave him a smile that told him she had been thinking about her idea for a while now, and was just waiting for the perfect moment to reveal it. “You start selling your drawings and I'll talk to Elide.”

“What drawings?” he said instantly, the years of having to hide to drawings from his nosy cousins still annoyed him and any mention of them had him wanting to deny he ever knew how to hold a pencil—not that his drawings were ever crude but nothing was sacred in the Whitethorn house he lived in after the death of his parents.

Aelin scoffed and rolled her eyes. “I've been with you for seven years, I've seen you drawing—they even line our walls. You start selling them—we have plenty of empty frames hanging around—and I'll talk to Elide. Deal?”

It only took him a single heartbeat to realise why she was offering him this. Rowan's drawings were personal, as were her stories, so if Aelin had to open herself like that by giving the world her stories, then he could give away little pieces of himself, too.

“Deal,” he said because he would staple his drawings all over the city if it helped Aelin get her foot in the door, to help her with her dream that he knew she could achieve.

Her face deflated for just a second before she righted herself. Clearly, she wasn't expecting him to agree so quickly. But if she wanted to take her time, then he would give her all the time in the world.

“Deal,” Aelin said and even held her hand out. Rolling his eyes playfully, Rowan shook her hand.

When Aelin went to drop his hand, he lingered, and brought her closer to him. With a smirk, Rowan said, “I can think of a better way to close our agreement.”

Aelin raised an eyebrow. “And how would you do that?”

“With my teeth and tongue, Fireheart,” he said, repeating his words from earlier this morning.

Aelin crashed her mouth onto his, and Rowan closed their deal right in the middle of the shop floor, not at all caring that their friends were right above them.

Aelin thanked the gods that she had come into this shop over seven years ago to escape the boredom of her old apartment. Thank the rutting gods for bringing the ever-scowling man into her life.

#rowaelin #rowaelinmonth #my work

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vimeddiart · 3 years

Text

Strangers

Patron-voted fic of my D&D beeflings! Read the previous comic and the first comic for this series for context!

On AO3

Clang.

The zinging cadence of his hammer hitting a new blade usually tempers his fraught emotions and lessens their intensity. The rhythm and beat usually calms him, the heat of the furnace and the steady drip of sweat as well. Except his heart thunders on and his breathing remains irregular and his eyes sting—not from stray embers or errant drops of perspiration—and his agitation grows.

It grows so powerfully that he miscalculates and swings his hammer much too harshly, breaking the blade he was trying to fashion which frustrates him further and he throws down his tools with a clatter, pressing the gloved heels of his hands to his brow.

Lazlo.

Tuhka releases a trembling breath.

Barely a day had passed since he had regurgitated all of the regret and agony of his childhood friend’s death right into said friend’s face before gracelessly fleeing, the bitter taste of tears still on his tongue and Lazlo’s look of resounding disbelief haunting him even here in the safety of his forge.

It wasn’t fair.

Why must he have been forced to carry the burden of grief and guilt for so many years? All those moments of remembrance, thinking of a friend—the only one he ever had— ripped away from the world much too soon, endless nights of pain and suffering, wishing he’d been taken instead...and for what? Lazlo was alive. Had been for perhaps as long as Tuhka had grieved his loss.

How much hatred—or worse, indifference—must Lazlo have harboured to fail in seeking Tuhka out...to reassure him, to reunite with him, to talk with him. They had been family.

Tuhka wrenches off his gloves and tosses them to the side, stalking towards the entrance of his smithy for some air, unable to concentrate anymore on his craft. His hands shake when he grasps the wrought iron gate.

A sound distracts him for a moment, one that carries over on the salty evening breeze that cools the sweat of his brow. Gravel crushed underfoot. It’s gone in an instant and even with his sharp hearing, Tuhka strains to listen for something further, ears swivelling in the hopes to catch it.

It doesn’t take too much investigation to track down the source of the sound once he decides to; a dark figure perched somewhat dejectedly on a boulder that offsets a scenic cliffside path Tuhka often takes to clear his head.

“You didn’t waste your grief, if that’s what you’re bothered about,” the figure says.

Tuhka’s breath leaves him in a rush as he’s met with a familiar blue gaze. He feels pulled forward by some invisible thread and settles himself on the far edge of the same boulder, leaving a bit of distance between them.

Lazlo sighs, drops his head into his hands. “When you left that day and never came back, I...believed you’d abandoned me, that you’d made good on your promise—”

“That was a child’s threat, I never meant to—” Tuhka began, needing to explain despite the betrayal he felt, still very fresh, that had upended years of mourning.

The other tiefling shook his head, dropping his hands away from his face and letting them fall to his lap. “I made a terrible decision, I paid for it,” the spectral left hand twitches and Tuhka notices it properly for the first time, heart squeezing despite everything and mind filling with more questions, “and I...went away for a long time. I didn’t think to look for you...I thought you despised me.”

He releases a mirthless laugh. “I don’t think I would’ve found you anyway. I’d have been looking for someone...quite different.”

Tuhka swallows hard. “I’ve...probably grown a bit since you last saw me.”

This startles a small, but real, laugh out of Lazlo, even if it does sound a little wet.

After a pause, Tuhka gathers strength from the stars and attempts to keep his voice steady. “That day...I went back for you. I did. I wasn’t going to, I was about to start a new life away from those bloody mines and I was so angry with you that I hoped you would stew in them forever...but then I remembered you wanted to get out just as desperately as I did and we swore to do it together so I went back to fetch you.”

Tuhka didn’t dare raise his eyes to Lazlo’s face, staring intently at his own hands grasping his knees even though the image was beginning to waver and blur.

“It was snowing and freezing and I walked through it without stopping, thinking that I would see you soon and whisk us away to a better place, until I saw the smoke from over the hill and I knew you’d gone ahead with our plan without me,” Tuhka let out a shuddering breath, “they said you got crushed in the tunnel along with that bastard foreman. Don’t remember much of what happened after that...just that I’d gone to fetch you and came back empty-handed.”

Tears flowed freely, despite previously believing he had run out of tears to shed. From the corner of his eye he noticed Lazlo wipe his face with a pure, white square of cloth.

“Told you the truth though…” Tuhka continued, after a none-too-discreet sniff, “mourned you like a piece of me had died. Couldn’t think of much else for a good few years,” He runs a forearm over his face roughly and finally turns to Lazlo, raw and exposed, “I would’ve looked for you in a heartbeat if I’d known you were alive. I would’ve.”

Lazlo lets out a sound like an animal in pain, fresh tears rolling down his cheeks that he no longer tries to wipe away. “I didn’t know...I didn’t know— I mucked up my plan and ending up losing everything, I— I was trapped for years without knowing how much time passed, I was...I was isolated from the outside in a way you won’t be able to understand but you must believe me, I never wanted to lose you—”

That final crack in Lazlo’s voice is what forces Tuhka to move closer and wrap an arm around his shoulders, mumbling soothing words until the sobs that wrack Lazlo’s frame subside. It reminds him of when he was younger—and much smaller—when Lazlo would do the same for him after a tumble, a run in with the awful foreman, or when overcome with a sadness he couldn’t understand, much less explain. Lazlo would have been there to comfort him, always.

As if hearing his thoughts, Lazlo lets out a tremulous sigh. “...Tables have turned, hm?”

Tuhka makes a tentatively amused sound in response. There is a whirlwind of emotion to wade through, but he can take this moment just to experience how real and solid Lazlo is. That he’s back.

“A right pair of bellends we turned out to be,” he ends up saying.

“Quite.” Lazlo sniffs, but there’s a small, albeit watery, smile on his lips as he straightens out of Tuhka’s one-armed embrace, and Tuhka tries not to let the empty feeling that remains affect him too much.

Something that has been niggling in the back of Tuhka’s mind takes on more force and the reason finally dawns on him.

“You sound different.”

Lazlo finishes wiping his face with a fresh, white handkerchief and makes a noise, muffled by the fabric.

“Yes, ah...I trained out the accent I used to have and replaced it with a new one.”

Tuhka blinks. “What’s wrong with your old accent? That’s the accent I have! I got it from you!”

“I needed to, ah...move in higher circles of society and I couldn’t very well sound like a common miner, could I?”

Tuhka opens his mouth to argue, a nostalgia for their juvenile arguments filling him in a split second, but Lazlo interrupts, “You know, we don’t have to speak Common if you’d prefer.”

They fall back on Infernal so naturally that Tuhka has to swallow a lump in his throat and keep the waver out of his voice. He never thought he would have this again. He’s a little rusty and out of practice but that doesn’t seem to matter in the moment—it’s like they’re back in the mines, speaking their language out of earshot of the foreman, making plans for the future in a world that was all dreams.

Tuhka tells Lazlo how he adopted Ooria (and not the other way round as she claimed to recall) and how she had helped him find his true self. He tells him about his work, his smithy and how he made a home on this cliff by the ocean. He doesn’t talk about the painful things, like crying himself to sleep every night for years from missing him, or the search for his adoptive mother who was now lost.

Lazlo talks about— what Tuhka suspects is— superficial milestones, his expertise in identifying gemstones, the places he’s visited and the night skies he has lain under and commemorated on his skin. Tuhka notices the glittering constellations peeking out of Lazlo’s clothes and his heart thumps, wanting to ask what made them special enough to wear permanently but he stops himself...still feeling like a stranger. There’s an undercurrent of darkness in Lazlo’s vague statements, of secrets untold, and Tuhka is slightly surprised by a keen disappointment that bubbles within him at not being trusted with them.

There’s a lull in conversation, an impending finality that Tuhka does not appreciate. He refuses to remain a stranger as well, which prompts him to realise that he hasn’t even properly introduced himself yet.

Feeling bold, he holds a hand out in the human way. “Tuhka Turunen.”

Lazlo’s gaze lands on the proffered hand and then flickers up to Tuhka’s face, seeming to weigh his options. He breathes out a laugh and leans forward, ignoring the hand to press his forehead slowly but firmly against Tuhka’s in customary tiefling fashion. An echo of the greeting they shared when they first met as children.

“Lazarus Astrophel,” whispers the tiefling formerly known as Lazlo.

Tuhka smiles. “Nice to meet you, Lazarus.”

They part and Lazlo—Lazarus—clears his throat, “My close acquaintances sometimes call me Laz. You may do so, after all we’re—” a beat of hesitation, “—old friends.”

His vibrant blue eyes are on Tuhka, almost as if expecting him to disagree. Tuhka doesn’t.

“Laz,” he says, smiling, “lot less likely to get mixed up with that.”

The sea breeze sighs around them, ruffling hair and clothing. Tuhka watches as Lazarus gets to his feet.

“It’s late. I should be going.”

Panic flickers through Tuhka. “You’re leaving?”

“I have business in town for a day or two, I’m staying at an inn there...The King’s Cushion?”

Tuhka nods, recognising the name. He gets to his feet as well, unintentionally towering over Lazarus.

“Stars...I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to that.” Lazarus grimaces.

“You’re welcome to visit,” Tuhka blurts out, trying to keep any semblance of desperation out of his voice and getting the impression that he failed, “you wanted to commission something, we can talk about that whenever you like.”

After a moment of confusion, Lazarus’ expression clears. “Ah, right, yes, that was what got us into this mess in the first place, wasn’t it? Yes,” he smiles, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

This time when he leaves, it’s with a lot less anger than moments after their first confrontation only days ago, and with a promise to come back. They had once shared everything, even their deepest desires. Now, after fifteen years apart, they’ve become completely different people—the fact that Lazarus came here, willing to talk, making promises to return even if there’s a chance he may not keep them...it’s a start. And that will have to be enough for now.

Tuhka sits back down once Lazarus has vanished from sight down the path and gazes up at the same stars he had begged night after night to return his best friend to him.

He thanks them for listening.

#d&d #tuhka turunen #lazarus astrophel #ash & salt #mine #almost forgot to post this

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five-rivers · 3 years

Text

Danger First

Chapter 8

@pocketramblr This one is a bit shorter, but it came fast. :3

As much of a disaster as this was, it would have been about a thousand times worse without Tensei there. The Nomu guy had All Might pinned down, and as terrifying as that was, it was only made worse by how little he reacted to Shouta erasing his quirk whenever he caught sight of him.

No wonder Midoriya had been a wreck this morning. If nothing else, this confirmed his quirk was some kind of precognitive danger detection, and Shouta fully intended to get it registered as such the minute they got out of this mess so that the next time Midoriya showed up shaking in his red shoes, they could hit the problem with an army.

The hand-covered villain started reciting numbers. What was he doing? Counting something? Time?

Shouta blinked. The villain said a new number.

Oh, hell. The bastard was measuring the length of time he could keep his quirk active.

Distantly, because he was currently fighting about a dozen villains and really needed to keep his attention on not dying, Shouta registered an approaching young scream. Then something thunked into the fountain, and a line - a carbon fiber cable? - appeared between Shouta and the hand villain, giving them both pause. The pause lasted just long enough for two pairs of red shoes to plow into the side of the hand villain's head.

The momentum of impact took both Midoriya and the hand villain into the fountain. Then the fountain disintegrated. Shouta turned his quirk back on, and Midoriya log rolled away from the remains of the fountain.

"Get out of here!" ordered Shouta.

"Yes, sir!" said Midoriya, scrambling to his feet and managing to dodge several villains' attacks in a way that looked both natural and uncanny.

Shouta refocused on the hand villain, who could evidently disintegrate things by touching them. What a joy. A completely terrible match up for close range fighters like himself and Tensei. Or All Might, for that matter.

As Shouta strategized, part of his brain filed the question of how Midoriya had gotten there under 'for later.'

It would be best to restrain him while he was still disoriented-

Then the portal villain was there, between him and the disintegration villain.

Shouta found himself falling.

Izuku did not reach Ingenium in time to stop him from being pinned by the tree. Not that he'd known Nomu would throw a tree that way, but he'd been more than aware that something bad was going to happen.

From what Izuku had seen so far, All Might had been trying to keep his fight with Nomu away from others while still occasionally throwing an assist. But Nomu was strong. If Izuku didn't know better, he'd say the villain had multiple quirks-

-except maybe he didn't know better. Here was Izuku with two quirks, after all. Who was to say there couldn't be another quirk like One for All?

That could be bad.

Judging by the way All Might's direct attacks and punches barely moved Nomu but throws seemed to work normally, in addition to a regeneration quirk, Izuku would say he had something else that absorbed impact. And then possibly a strength quirk...?

All Might and Nomu rolled out of the trees. All Might was ever-so-slightly bloodied. Nomu looked unscathed.

It would be a gamble, All Might probably had already realized it, but...

Knowledge was power.

Izuku cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, "All Might! I think he has more than one quirk!"

Black bled into the air.

"You certainly are a golden egg, aren't you?"

The mist villain and the hand villain were there. The hand villain, who bore a strong resemblance to a drowned rat, cackled.

"You've been trying to seal his movements, haven't you?" he said, voice scratchy. "But it's no good, he's just as powerful as you. Nomu- our specially made multi-quirked anti-All Might weapon. Kurogiri."

"Yes, Shigaraki Tomura."

More portals started to form, and Izuku started to get a better, horrible idea of what the villains' goal here was.

He needed Ingenium, and Kaminari.

He edged away, then turned to run. He couldn't directly help All Might right now, but if All Might could just hold out a little longer-

He grabbed Kaminari and Tsuyu's hands. "Help me get Ingenium free! I have a plan!"

"You have a plan, Midoriya?" asked Ingenium.

"Y-yeah," said Midoriya. "Just, we have to get this off of you for it to work-"

"Explain to me as you go."

"Well-"

"Multiple quirks," said En quietly.

"No! Toshinori killed him!"

"Never thought he was human enough to die-" started Banjo.

"Please tell me you aren't quoting pre-quirk literature at us right now," said En.

"Yoichi?" asked Hikage.

The ghosts shifted their attention to their first member.

"You don't seem very surprised," observed Nana.

"I guess it's like Banjo said," said Yoichi with a pained smile. "I just... never really felt like it was over... Even if I didn't think he'd attack Izuku of all people..."

"Well, he isn't. Clearly he's sent his goons after Toshinori. But why wouldn't you think he'd go after Ninth as soon as he realized Toshi passed on One for All?" asked Nana, putting her hands on her hips.

"Probably because it doesn't look like he has One for All?" suggested En.

"Oh," said Nana. "Yeah. Good point."

Izuku didn't miss the pain that flickered across Ingenium's face as he stood, or the way he was clearly favoring one side of his body, but they didn't have a lot of options right now. This was the best they could do. All Might was still avoiding the portals, and Nomu reaching through them, but he'd had to abandon his cape.

Worse, he was still obviously worried about the four of them, and had left himself open to injury to knock small-fry villains away from them multiple times as they levered the tree off Ingenium.

They didn't have time. They didn't have options.

(This would be a great time for reinforcements from the school to arrive.)

(They didn't.)

Izuku handed the spooled out end of the grappling hook to Ingenium, and the gun end to Kaminari. Tsuyu wrapped her tongue around Izuku and they jumped away, out of range.

Then Ingenium took off, compensating for less thrust output on his injured side. He was wobbly, and the hand villain easily dodged him, but the mist villain, with his focus on the portals, didn't. Ingenium slammed the points of the grappling hook into the man's metal collar, and ran.

Lightning struck, racing down the conductive cable from Kaminari to the mist villain. The man convulsed, the portals snapping shut.

One of them snapped shut on Nomu.

The villain's arm flopped onto the ground, and Izuku swallowed hard. That could have been All Might, if they hadn't timed that right.

Nomu roared, but its muscles bulged, and its arm, rapidly, disgustingly, grew back.

They'd gotten rid of the portal threat, but what now? Nomu and the hand villain were still very much threats, and if the hand villain got even one hand on All Might, it was game over.

Third cursed, surprising everyone.

"Ooh, are you finally acknowledging Izuku's superior skill in strategy and quirk analysis?" asked Yoichi, striking a pose.

"No," said Third, stepping away from the wall. "You can keep him to yourself. I just don't want Eighth to die." He walked over to the fiery form that was Yagi Toshinori's placeholder in the mindscape. "He's still connected."

"Well, yeah," said Yoichi. "What are you doing?"

"I'm giving him Fa Jin."

"What! He can do that?" demanded Banjo. "What about Blackwhip?"

"How the hell would Toshinori explain Blackwhip? Give it a rest already."

Third put his hands on Eighth's shoulders.

"Midoriya!"

"Monoma?" Izuku staggered as Monoma dropped both hands on his shoulders. "What?"

"The portal villain!" said Monoma, eyes wide. "He has multiple quirks!"

"It's true," said Kirishima, running up behind him. "After we were zapped to the ruins zone, Monoma was able to do all sorts of stuff."

"So, he's like Nomu?"

"That thing has multiple quirks, too?"

Normally, cling someone with a quirk that affected their appearance a thing was frowned upon, but in this case they were all going to let it slide.

"Yeah," said Izuku. A terrible idea began to rise up in his mind. But then he was distracted by Kaminari starting to wander towards the fight. "I think it has three," he said in a rush. "Regen, strength, and shock absorption if you can think of anything-" he cut off. "We need to get Kaminari."

"I've got him," said Kirishima quickly, "I can take a hit."

Izuku nodded.

"Midoriya, Ingenium!" said Tsuyu with a gasp.

Ingenium had collapsed, clutching one of his legs. Tears pricked at Izuku's eyes. There was too much going on!

A wave of ice crusted over Nomu.

Todoroki!

All Might took advantage of his opponent's temporary incapacitation and leaped back to where Izuku and the others were, grabbing Kirishima, Kaminari, and Ingenium on the way. "You kids need to get out of here!"

"But the shock absorbtion-!"

"Geez, plain kid, what are you, some kind of exposition dump?" asked the hand villain, scratching his neck. "A secret gimmick boss?" He laughed. "Yeah, Nomu has shock absorption. Like I said-" Nomu ripped itself free of the ice, "-he's a specially made living sandbag, a damage sponge just for-"

The hand villain cut off as a floating tree branch hit him over the back of the head, knocking free one of his costume hands. He staggered but didn't fall, swiping behind him with one hand. One of his own hands, that was. Hagakure yelped.

Not really thinking, Izuku picked up a rock and threw it at the hand villain, who caught and disintegrated it. "That's it, you hero brats!" He was blown back by a gust of wind.

"Go!" urged All Might. "Shock absorption quirks always have limits! So do regeneration quirks!"

So did All Might.

"If I could touch him," started Monoma. "If I could touch you-"

"Go," repeated All Might, more urgently.

"You heard him," said Tsuyu.

"Running away?" taunted the hand villain. Then, more quietly but still audible, "Wake up, Kurogiri."

All Might smiled grimly. "Not at all," he said. Then he charged the Nomu.

The silver lining to being shipped express to the location of one of the most traumatic events in his life was that Shouta had cell service. He could call UA.

Literally everything else sucked.

"Nezu," he croaked into the receiver. "Attack-"

"On the USJ, yes. I gathered reinforcements when the computer system stopped returning my pings and I couldn't contact you or Thirteen. What is your- oh, dear, how did you get all the way out there?"

"One of the villains has a warp quirk," said Shouta, he shifted and hissed. "Dropped me from over a story up." Probably more like two. Or even three. "Kinda want to know why he dropped me here."

"I'm sending a ambulance your way," said Nezu brusquely.

"There's also a guy who can turn stuff to dust with a touch - got me a couple times, but only got my skin - and really... muscly guy. Fighting All Might. Lots of cannon fodder. My kids-"

"You've done everything you can. Focus on not dying. You were always one if my favorite students. I'd hate to lose you."

"I'm a teacher."

"And? Ah! That's Iida Tenya on the road!"

"'S he okay?"

"Somewhat winded, but unharmed! Anything else we should know?"

"One of the villains was going toe-to-toe with All Might," said Shouta, blinking black spots out of his eyes. "The leader had a five-point disintegration quirk- Got me a couple times, just lost some skin though." He inhaled deeply, and groaned at the distinct sensation of a cracked rib. "Kids were scattered. Don't know where they all were. Saw Midoriya." He took another gasp of air. "I think Thirteen was injured."

He could hear sirens.

"I think," he said, weakly, "that's... no, there were a lot of canon fodder guys... Did I say that already? I think that's it."

"Thank you, Shouta. I'm going to leave you on speaker. If you can think of anything else, let us know. We need to debrief Iida, now."

"Hn," said Shouta.

By the time All Might punched Nomu through the roof of the USJ, the hand villain was shaking the mist villain vigorously, and Izuku and his classmates were halfway to the exit, carrying Ingenium and Kaminari.

Izuku was relieved, despite the danger still hanging in the air. It couldn't have been more than thirty minutes since this all started, but it was probably shorter, and Izuku knew All Might had all his time for today.

With Nomu gone, there was no way All Might would lose. Not even to someone with a destructive five-point quirk. Izuku could write a whole article on his reasoning, with sources cited.

All Might flipped a cube out of his pocket, and it unfolded into a pair of handcuffs designed specifically for restraining people with five-point quirks. It was obvious that the hand villain wasn't going to come quietly.

The mist villain's yellow eyes opened groggily. All Might moved-

-too slow.

The hand villain and the mist villain were gone.

The other villains who had come with them, however, were still very present. Which is why, Izuku would maintain until he died, he passed out when the rest of the teachers stepped through the door of the USJ and he finally felt safe.

Shouta watched as the two villain leaders stumbled out of a portal not far from him. He had the presence of mind to silence his phone, but couldn't focus enough to do much else. Hopefully Nezu still recorded all his calls, the paranoid rodent...

"Kurogiri," growled the hand villain. "Where the hell are we, and why are we here?"

The mist villain - Kurogiri? - shook his head slowly. "I am unsure, Shigaraki Tomura. I do not recognize the area." His voice was unsteady and itched at Shouta's brain. "I suspect... I suspect that the electric attack of that student has damaged my quirk control."

"Then get it undamaged, idiot. Goddamn sun... we're out in the open! I can hear sirens."

"I believe that those are ambulance sirens. Police sirens have a different pitch-"

"I don't care! Open a portal back home!"

"I am uncertain if that is-"

"Take us back to the bar. Now."

The villains left again, all without noticing Shouta. Maybe they were just desensitized to corpses lying in dark alleys or something. Not that he was a corpse yet. Even if his eyes were sliding closed.

What an illogical affair.

This was a stupid place to die.

"Alright," said En, in a tone that indicated he wanted attention. "Now that Ninth is no longer in danger of immediate death, I think we have some things to talk about. Firstly, Yoichi, I have a question for you."

Yoichi looked resigned. "Ask away, then."

"Before I ask it, I just want to preface that I've always had the utmost respect for you, and obviously there's nothing you can do to act on it from in here, but I can't help but notice that you seem... unusually attached to Ninth."

Yoichi gestured for En to contine.

"So, I have to ask... Yoichi, are you a pedophile?"

"No, I'm not rel- a pedophile?"

"Like I said, you seem unusu-"

"I'm his uncle!"

"What," said Nana.

"What," said Banjo, not quite at the same time.

"Wha- Not that I'm not pleased I won't have to figure out a way to double murder you, but what?" demanded En.

"I can't believe you thought I was a pedophile! What's wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with him?" said Banjo, phantom representations of Blackwhip peeling off his body. "What's wrong with you? How are you Ninth's uncle?"

"In the usual way!" shouted Yoichi, who seemed to have gotten stuck on high volume. "I'm actually kind of shocked none of you noticed right away!"

"How could we possibly have noticed?" demanded Banjo.

"I noticed," said Hikage.

"I- Wait, what, really?" Yoichi turned to Hikage.

"Yes," said Hikage, gravely. "All for One was in the family photo on the wall in Ninth's house. The one in the living room. I thought we were just avoiding the subject to be polite."

"Hikage," said Nana, "I cannot begin to tell you how much that wasn't what was going on. Is that why you two were sulking?" she asked Third.

"We aren't sulking. We're protesting the ridiculous decision to give One for All to the son of All for One. And I'm going right back to it."

"Bah!" said Yoichi, waving him off. "Go sulk in your corner! You're just jealous that Izuku is the coolest One for All holder!"

En's eyes had narrowed suspiciously. "Those two were sulking way before we were in Ninth, let alone his house. When did they find out?"

"Like, the day after Eighth met him. I told them because I wanted advice, but I got sulking instead. See if I tell them any more secrets, ever."

"That was a year ago," said Nana. "Are you- How in the world did you know, anyway?"

"He looks just like Hisashi did at that age," said Yoichi. "Also, he always said that if he had kids, he'd name them Tomura and Izuku, so..."

"Ninth looks like his mother, though," said Nana.

"Yeah, and All for One is a grade-A narcissist," said Yoichi.

"You're saying he picked, ugh, what was her name- Inko. He picked Inko because she looked like him?" asked Nana.

"Yeah, essentially."

"Wait, wait, back up," said Banjo. "Tomura? Did you say Tomura?"

"Yeah?"

"That's what the mist guy called the hand guy that one time. Actually- Didn't All for One go by Shigaraki for a while there, too?"

The only audible sound was a heartrate monitor's muffled beep. Presumably from Ninth being hooked up to one.

"That's messed up," said Yoichi, finally. There wasn't much else to say.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #danger first #danger first au #fic #fanfic

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