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feelingpoorly · 1 year

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For You- Part 2

If you've not checked out part 1 yet, you can find it below! (Who knows if I've linked it correctly or not, I hope so lol)

But anyway, Part 2 is finally here! Hope you enjoy :)

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Evening was drawing in on them, yet their progress was painfully slow. She was struggling to keep him upright now; he barely seemed able to hold his head up let alone walk. They’d been walking in silence only occasionally broken by his pained groans, until he suddenly stopped moving altogether.

“‘Las?” She prompted gently, concern filling her eyes as she took in his face as he blanched chalk white. She could feel him trembling under her touch, and it was obvious he felt awful.

“Taur- I don’t… feel well…” he managed thickly, bringing a shaking hand up to cover his mouth. Suddenly he pulled away from her and stumbled towards the nearest tree, barely catching himself on it.

Everything was spinning. He wasn’t sure whether he was frozen to the bone or boiling from the inside out. Something was very wrong with him but he felt so ill that it was all he could focus on.

She rushed after him but before she could even reach him, he collapsed to the ground and was violently sick, his stomach cramping so painfully that it caused him to groan out loud. He was sprawled across the floor, just barely holding himself up on shaking arms as he continued to be miserably sick, his stomach lurching as he retched and heaved, every movement tearing fresh agony through his injured side as the muscles in his abdomen spasmed and tensed involuntarily, making him want to cry out in pain.

Tauriel gasped, quickly falling to her knees beside him as she tended gently to him, holding him upright when his own arms couldn’t support him. It didn’t take long before he had thrown up everything he had eaten that day, but the sickness was relentless.

She rubbed his back; he was throwing up bile now, shaking like a leaf. Eventually, only when there was truly nothing left inside him, he fell back into her, his body worryingly hot in her arms. His insides were still churning and he felt horrifically nauseous but apparently his body had purged all it could, the dry heaves ripping his body to shreds and tearing at his throat. On instinct she felt his forehead and her heart fell as she realised whilst he had been ice cold earlier, he was now running a temperature.

This was so much worse than she had realised. It had been bad enough to begin with but now it was obvious that something was very, very wrong.

“I’m… so sorry…” his voice was low and thick with nausea, as he fought desperately to maintain control over his stomach and not start heaving again. He felt mortified that she should have to see this, yet at the same time as his body endeavoured to rid him of everything he’d ever eaten, he felt far too exhausted and sick to dwell on it too much.

“You have nothing to apologise for!” She reassured him, laying him down as he weakly complied, too spent to protest. Legolas had hoped the humiliation was over, but his features creased in discomfort and he moaned as his stomach rolled again. Tauriel gently wiped his face of what he had thrown up. He felt so miserable that he didn’t even resist.

“Something is wrong.” She worried, taking his wrist in her hand to find his pulse racing and far, far too fast. She bit her lip and tried to stay calm for his sake. “I need to look at your wound.” Legolas barely made a noise in reply, too concerned with the nausea that still refused to release its hold on him.

She had a horrible feeling what could be causing this sudden sickness, and as she pulled away his shirt, her worst fears were confirmed.

“Poison…”

Thin black tendrils spread across his fair skin, branching out from where the arrow still resided.

“This cannot go on. We need to get this arrow out of you, now.”

“It is not possible…” he replied quietly, his voice so hoarse and painful sounding she barely understood him. He swallowed thickly and winced.

“We have no choice… I-“

“No, Tauriel. It’s barbed.” He closed his eyes in defeat. He felt absolutely awful and he knew it was only going to continue getting worse until they got the wretched thing out of him.

“Barbed? How do you know?” She was glad she hadn’t acted on instinct and yanked it out of him as soon as they realised it was poisoned.

“I recognise these arrows, I’ve seen them before…” he was feeling worse again, his breathing hitching nauseously “-can’t remove them… barbed…”

He reached into his cloak and shakily handed her the other end of the shaft she had snapped off. She inspected it, a wave of dread crashing over her as she realised he was right. She hadn’t realised he’d kept it, but it was a good job he had. Judging by the way it had bled earlier, she could’ve killed him in a matter of minutes if she’d tried to yank out a barbed arrow.

“Ai valar…” Tauriel blanched herself. This couldn’t be happening. They were still so far from help. She looked around frantically- they were rapidly losing the light, and it was becoming increasingly apparent that getting him back to the palace tonight was impossible with him in this condition. But the alternative was almost just as unthinkable. If she could just get him through the night… Tauriel knew if they hadn’t returned by morning, someone would notice they were missing and realise they were in trouble, and a rescue party would be sent out.

However…the dark forests of Mirkwood were a dangerous place. Not only would she have to get them through the night, she also had to somehow keep her very sick companion alive.

Beside her, Legolas weakly rolled to his side and was sick again, and whilst she rubbed his back as he heaved, her mind was made up.

He wasn’t well enough to be going anywhere. A rescue party was their only hope.

“Do you think you can stand?” She asked him, her voice thick with worry. It was a stupid question. Even as she spoke, Tauriel was still holding the blonde elf’s hair back, but Legolas’ exhausted body could barely muster the strength to retch anymore.

An uneasy groan was the only reply he could manage; his throat felt like it had been scrubbed raw with the bark of oak and his stomach was aching fiercely, although whether it was just from the exertion or instead the poison, he couldn’t tell. The incessant heaving had only succeeded in massively aggravating the wound, and slowly and painfully he curled into a tight ball of misery. Another cramp laced through him and he swallowed down another treacherous lurch of his stomach, groaning slightly.

“Goheno nin...” Forgive me… She apologised gently when he was evidently unable to respond, her delicate fingers deftly braiding more of his loose hair back into a thicker fishtail absentmindedly, her heart sinking as she realised why she was doing so. The sickness, and indeed everything else, was only going to get worse. She was anxious to move him somewhere safer and more sheltered as soon as possible, but he had also just been very very sick and he didn’t look like he was even up to moving, let alone standing.

“Just- give me a- a minute…” he whispered, letting out a tense breath and clearing his throat roughly. He closed his eyes and tried to compose himself, hating how weak he felt, how little control he had of his body. After a few long moments, he opened his heavy eyes to see her kneeling next to him, watching him with a heartbreaking look of concern.

Maybe it was because he felt so lightheaded and out of it; his senses so preoccupied with the pain and sickness, or maybe it was the fact that for the first time in his long life, he realised he knew what it felt to fear death, but in that moment, he reached out his hand and grasped hers weakly in his own.

Tauriel took his limp, blood stained hand in both of her own. She blew her warm breath into her cupped hands to try and warm his ice cold fingers.

A fresh pang of sadness and guilt ran through her. It was because of her that he was in this awful state. They had been inseparable since they were elflings, yet all of that had long since changed, and up until tonight she wasn’t entirely sure you could even call them friends anymore. More: “reluctant acquaintances”. Neither of them ever made reference to how close they used to be, they treated each other with the cold indifference that you might any stranger that you were forced to spend time with.

Yet, he’d literally taken an arrow for her, seemingly without a moment's hesitation.

Why?

Legolas was trembling dreadfully. Without thinking Tauriel took a blanket out of her pack and started to wrap him in it. However, when she touched his bare skin, she thought better of it. Frowning, she abandoned the blanket, and rested the back of her hand on his forehead for a moment.

“You’re burning…” She said quietly, turning her hand to check his temperature once more.

He looked up at her in confusion.

“But… it’s so cold...” For the first time in their long lives, she saw fear in his eyes and she hated it.

“We need to get you somewhere safe, we can’t stay out here. If we do not return by sunrise, they will send for help.” Tauriel mused as she hastily busied herself, collecting up their things. She was grateful for the distraction of something to do, and also for the way her red hair hung like a curtain over her face as she felt a solitary tear rolled down her cheek.

She was trying to reassure both of them, but he looked so awful that she was worried he didn’t have until morning.

Unbeknownst to Silvan elf, Legolas’ eyes followed Tauriel as she fumbled with her pack, trying to distract himself from how bad he was feeling inside. She had almost pointedly turned her back on him, but he could guess why. She looked so sad that Legolas’ heart hurt. He had caused all of this. He’d been so stupid to have allowed himself to be injured and put all of this worry and responsibility on her. He should’ve taken out that orc before it even had a chance to shoot at her. He should’ve noticed it sooner, intercepted it with his own arrow, he should have…

She was alive. That was all that mattered. As long as she was alive, it would have been worth it.

His vision blurred and he blinked hard, shaking his head slightly trying to bring everything back into focus. His brow furrowed in frustration and discomfort as he massaged his temples. It was making his head ache.

He closed his eyes as everything started swimming in the most disorientating way- his head was pounding horribly now and every part of him ached dreadfully.

“Ready?” He heard Tauriel ask him, but couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes. He took several deep, shaky breaths and tried to muster what little strength he had left.

He’d been hit a few inches above his left hip, and due to the location of the arrow, the poison had affected his stomach the worst. The sickness was awful and it had hit him so intensely. He knew there would be more symptoms from the poison to come as it spread through his body, but right now the debilitating nausea was all he could focus on. It had come on so suddenly and severely that it had left him drained and weak and shaking all over, but the worst part was that he knew it was far, far from over.

In truth, he really didn’t think standing would be a good idea. He knew he had to try, but as predicted, it was indeed not a good idea. Legolas shut his eyes as his hand darted to his mouth, praying to the Valar that he would not be sick again.

“Ai Legolas…” Tauriel was immediately at his side, rubbing soothing circles on his back as he fought to keep his stomach down.

“There’s a rangers hut… it’s not far.” His voice was tight and strained with nausea. He knew there was no way he’d be able to stand and walk feeling like this. His limbs felt like lead and the prickly lightheadedness was doing little to help how sick he felt.

Tauriel slowly and carefully helped him struggle up until he was laying back against her, panting heavily. She saw the blood drain from his face as he lost what little colour he had left and went a worrying shade of white, his body fervently resisting being upright.

“Easy…” she soothed, wrapping her arm around him more firmly in a bid to try and keep him upright. She held him tightly as he swayed dangerously to one side, stifling a moan behind clenched teeth. The ground beneath him was pitching and swaying, and Tauriel just about managed to catch him as he nearly slumped sideways again, clearly disorientated and extremely dizzy.

“‘Ri…” his voice was slurred and tinged with urgency. Feeling worse than he ever remembered, he was unable to hold back a deep groan, unsure whether he was about to throw up, pass out, or both.

Legolas went limp in her arms and Tauriel yelped in shock, her heart lurching in her chest as she cradled him gently, a tear running down her cheek as she felt his frail body burning up under her touch.

She knew the hut he spoke of. It was not too far from where they were now.

She shifted carefully, keeping his unconscious and worryingly feverish form held close against her chest with one arm, and awkwardly slung both their packs and his bow onto her back with the other.

She lifted him into her arms and ran.

#emeto #sickfic #hurt legolas #lotr sickfic #legolas sickfic #whump #hurt comfort #emetophilia #injured legolas #for you #sick leggy #my writing

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angeliana2023 · 2 months

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Angeliana’s Imagination Chapter 1 (Aka ‘Why you should NEVER ‘wing it’ while writing, 101)

Ok, so how do I even start this story? How do I get you to believe anything you're about to read? What you're about to read is CRAZY! It involves imaginary powers, bravery, magic swords, and long-dead dictators. It's the chronicle of my overactive imagination and how I found true courage in the face of my worst fear.

So, before I drag you on my hectic adventure, let me tell you a little bit about myself! I live in Manhattan, New York, which is hectic, but I love it! It's been my home since childhood. My name is Angeliana, but I go by Angel. My mother wanted to give me a unique and angelic name, so she chose Angeliana. However, she felt that common angelic names like Angela, Angeline, Angelina, Evangeline, or Evangelina were too normal sounding. My name plays a role in my superpowers - when I battle my arch-nemesis, I transform into a superpowered form with white angel wings. That's why my superhero name is The Angel of Destiny. Now, you are not going to believe who my arch-nemesis is - it's Adolf Hitler! I know it sounds crazy, but it's true. Now, why is a dictator who died decades ago chasing me?

Because of my overactive imagination!

Yep, I have an overactive imagination, which tends to get me in trouble a lot! I’ve gone on many adventures, but none as deadly, scary, or REAL as the one you’re about to read about!

It all started when I was 14 years old. I was in history class, learning about WW2. I’ve always kind of known about Hitler, but it wasn’t until that day that my fears took flight.

I was reading the textbook, listening to the teacher, and that’s when I saw him: a picture of Hitler, giving an evil look to the camera. I just don’t understand that about that man! He was always glaring evilly at the camera! That’s what first scared me about him. Little did I know, my fear was about to get worse! The teacher had us watch a WW2 doc, and it talked about the horrible atrocities Hitler and the Nazis committed! Then, it played a snippet of a Hitler speech!

His loud, booming voice while speaking terrified me! That’s when my imagination started to run nonstop!

What if I see him in my nightmares?

What if he chases me while screaming in that horrifying voice?

What if he catches me?

What if he… kills me…?

I blanched in fear and started sweating icy droplets. I looked at my hands. They were trembling. This was so embarrassing! I was completely falling apart, in class!

The teacher saw how scared I was, and spoke up. “Angel, would you like to go and walk around for a little bit? I understand it’s overwhelming to learn about that horrible man.” She turned to the pitcher of ice water she always kept on her desk. “How about a glass of water, to calm your nerves?” She asked. She poured me a glass and set it on my desk. I took it, and tried to take a sip, but was too flustered. The water kept dripping down my chin. I set it down, and ran out of the classroom!

I needed out of that environment! I needed to get home! To my parents, to my warm blankets, to anywhere but that classroom! I was too scared!

I went to cross the crosswalk and waited for the cars to pass. That’s when I saw something that made my blood run cold! I was Adolf Hitler himself, in the flesh, on the other side of the crosswalk! I rubbed my eyes, and he went away. Ok, I’m just scared… That was just my imagination. Hitler died years before I was even born… I shook my head and continued on my way.

I got to our apartment building and went to our floor. My parents were still at work, so wouldn’t get in trouble for getting out of school early. I locked the door, went to my room, wrapped myself in a blanket, put my headphones on, and turned on a guided meditation. I breathed in and out l and was feeling pretty relaxed. A few minutes later, I heard a knock at the door. Uh oh. Parents must be home.

I decided just to tell them I ran away from school. They were understanding, and they would probably understand how terrified I was of that horrible man. I looked through the peephole, just to be safe.

Short answer: it wasn’t my parents.

Now I KNEW I was going crazy! ADOLF HITLER, (or some crazy guy dressed as him for a cruel prank) was outside my door! I ran to my room and hid under the covers with my cell phone. I dialed 911. No one picked up! I had no service! I realized no one could help me! It was probably some kid from school, who saw me freaking out in class. But, how could they have procured a full Hitler outfit, AND put it on in such a short time? I hadn’t been home for that long…

I decided to be brave and go back to the door. I wanted to see if I recognized the man in the costume. I looked through the peephole. It was him! There was no mistaking it! I recognized him from the wrinkles on his face. I knew I was going crazy. I decided some self-care would help me stop hallucinating. I poured myself a glass of water, guzzled it down, and washed my face in the sink. I wiped my face off with a towel and went to my room to take a nap.

I couldn’t even sleep. I couldn’t stop tossing and turning. That was Hitler out there. I didn’t know what to do. I thought I was just hallucinating, but what if he was real…? A lot of people would die… About 5 minutes later, I got up. I wanted to see if he was still there. I got to the door, and he was STILL STANDING THERE! I didn't know what to do! I decided to run. I to the balcony, to get to the fire escape, as Hitler continued to pound on the door.

I opened the curtains and saw something weird.

There was a random pink and white cat on the balcony! Now, seeing a cat on the balcony wouldn't be weird, because our balconies were close together, and our neighbors' crazy, death-defying, daredevil cats had been known to jump from balcony to balcony. But the fact that its fur was literally pink and white... I opened the balcony and looked at the cat.

"What? Did your owners dye you, or something?" Ok, I guess it wasn't weird yet, because I'd seen dyed animals before. One person dyed their dog with rainbow polka dots and put an afro on its head. This was at a pet show when I was little. When I pet the dog, some paint rubbed off on my hand. I bent down to pet the pink part. I touched the fur. I was amazed at how soft it was! It was like touching a pink cotton candy cloud! I was in awe!

"Hey, are you gonna just stand there and pet me, or fight him?" THE CAT TALKED.

"GAH!" I yelped and backed away. I was trembling now, like full-on shaking. I was sure I was going insane.

"I know that look. You think you're losing your marbles, and I understand! I'd think I was crazy too, if I came across a meowing human!" The cat said.

Ok, that was pretty funny. I giggled. "Ok, back to business. What is a talking, pink and white cat doing on my balcony?" I pointed at the front door. "What is he doing at my door?" I couldn't even say his name...

"He's after you! Your strong fear of him caused him to manifest into reality!"

"So, short answer: I'm going insane! I'm going crazy because of my fear!" I yelled. "This isn't real, this isn't real, this isn't real, NONE OF THIS IS REAL!" I screamed, hitting the side of my head with every word.

"I know this is crazy, but it's true! Whenever you fear something, you're scared it's out to kill you. So, what conclusion are you making in your mind?"

"He... wants to kill me?" I asked.

"Yes, and that's why you need to come with me!" The cat said.

"Wait, let's analyze this. Hitler was like, 50 when he died." I pointed to the door. "What, you think a middle-aged man is going to be able to bust the door off its hinges?" I asked. Just then, a deafening sound was heard behind me. I looked behind me in horror. There stood Adolf Hitler, in the flesh, with a broken door in front of him! That man looked like a straight-up psychopath. He stared at me with a death glare. I'd never been more scared of a look before in my life.

"Oh, I'm sorry I forgot to mention that. Since he's basically a nightmare version of himself, he gets whatever abilities you think of, even if they're accidental!" The cat said.

"Yeah, thanks for telling me that before!" I scooped the cat up and shut the sliding door. I wasn't about to climb out of a fire escape with a madman chasing me. As Hitler chased me, I ran to our panic room. I scrambled to press the door open button while holding the cat, praying Hitler didn't catch me in time. When it opened, I ran into the room. I closed the door behind me, just as Hitler got there. He was pretty mad! "Öffne diese Tür jetzt!" (Open this door right now!) He screamed, banging on the door. I guess the panic room door was too strong for even him!

I put the cat down and kneeled to her level. "Ok. You've got a lot of explaining to do! What is all of this?" I asked.

"Well, before I tell you everything, let me tell you my name. My name is Cherie! I'm your spirit animal!" Cherie said.

"Wait... spirit animal" I slapped my knee, and started laughing! "Oh, this is so not real! I'm dreaming! That's right, I'm dreaming! I probably passed out in fear in my classroom, and am asleep at the hospital, right now! I just have to wake myself up!" I pinched myself, trying to wake up, to no avail. "WHY ISN'T IT WORKING?" I asked

"It's not working because you're not asleep, genius!" Cherie said.

"But how? How am I awake, unless I'm hallucinating? How is a long-dead dictator chasing me, trying to kill me?" I asked.

"Do you want me to give it to you straight?" Cherie asked.

"YES!" I yelled. I was finally going to get a straight answer!

"You're cursed," Cherie said.

Talk about a vague answer! "Cursed how, exactly? Whenever a young girl gets cursed, it's usually something that involves sleeping death spells, and I'm not messing with those."

"You have the overactive imagination curse! Whatever you imagine comes to life, no matter how scary!" Talk about a downer! At least Snow White didn't have to deal with a mad dictator kicking her door in!

"So, I'm hallucinating?" I asked.

"No, it's not like that! It's much worse! Your imagination actually creates stuff, so Hitler is very much real! And, he'll wreak havoc again, if you keep fearing him, and making him stronger!" Cherie said.

Alright, now I was scared. Cherie wasn't doing much to help me stop fearing anything! I pointed at the door. "Wait, so, I have to fight him? What about the army or something?" I asked.

"I'm sorry, but it doesn't work like that! He's your villain. He's your arch-nemesis, so you have to muster up the bravery to defeat him!" Cherie said.

I shook my head. "Wait wait wait. How? I'm a high schooler! I can't square off against a superpowered dictator!" I said.

"Angeliana, I was sent here to bestow your powers upon you! That's what you'll use to defeat him!" Cherie said.

"Wait, powers?" I said. I got closer to Cherie. "What kind of powers?" I asked.

The power of pure courage. The more of it you have, the stronger you'll become. Don't forget, this curse affects you, too! You get abilities, also! You just need to learn to hone them!" Cherie said.

"Wait, I can like, chose my own weapon and outfit?" I asked.

"Yep! Whatever you want!" Cherie said.

"Well, I was thinking pink pants, a purple shirt, and pink and purple boots! Oh, and a pink sword! And, because my name is Angeliana, a pair of pink, feathery wings!" I said. As soon as I imagined, the clothes appeared on me, along with the wings. The sword appeared in my hand. "WOAH! What? This... this is amazing!" I said.

"What are you waiting for? Face your biggest fear! I'm rooting for you!" Cherie said.

Suddenly, I didn't feel so ready. "I can't do this. I can't face Adolf Hitler! He's bad enough normal, but now he has abilities?" I said.

"Angel, the fate of the universe depends on you! Hitler knows he's powerful enough! He won't stop with just conquering the world!" Cherie said.

"Ok..." I said. here goes... I thought to myself. I pressed the door combination, and it opened, revealing Hitler. I had to be brave, no matter what happened, but I just couldn't keep my heartbeat in check!

Don't worry... At least he's not one of those creepy cloak-wearing grim reaper dudes who can steal souls like in those scary movies mom won't let me watch yet... I thought.

All of a sudden a dark cloak appeared on Hitler. He ran towards me, and I ran away, trying to get to the front door, Cherie trailing behind me.

"Why'd you power him up more? He feeds off of the stuff you fear!" She asked.

"I THOUGHT YOU HAD TO SAY IT! I DIDN'T KNOW IT WENT BY THOUGHTS, TOO!" This complicated things. I was so scared of him, that anything I thought would be weaponized.

"I'm sorry, I should've mentioned that, too!" Cherie said. We ran out the door, and down the hallway, with Hitler gaining on us. He found a fire axe in a glass case, and broke the glass with his bare hands! He swung it at us, shining esque. He swung for my head. I screamed and ducked. The axe got stuck in the wall, right where my head would've been a millisecond before!

We turned the corner, but it was a dead end! I went and desperately knocked on doors, trying to find someone who would let us in. They were either locked or empty apartments. I was cornered. Hitler was gaining quickly, a nightmarish look on his face, his cloak obscuring his glowing red eyes. Oh, I forgot to mention: one of the things that scare me is people with glowing red eyes!

I backed up against the wall. I thought this was it. I thought I was dead. Since I was so young, I hadn't put much thought into how I would die, but I never thought it would be like this! Not at the hands of a super nightmarish version of Hitler!

He got closer and closer and closer. He raised the axe high above his head. My eyes widened in fear. Fear, and also realization. I was going to die.

He swung the axe down.

So, what do you think? Yeah, that's right! I left you off on a cliffhanger! I wanted to publish my biography, but also make it like a fiction novel, with cliffhangers, and stuff. The next chapter will give you more insight about my powers, and about my quest, so stay tuned!

#Old #writing #wirters on tumblr #author #bookblr

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promiseiwillwrite · 1 year

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She was standing in a graveyard

It was autumn, and everyone else was leaving. I am not sure there had even been a funeral, because the graveyard was from the 1700s. Perhaps it had been a class field trip or something less sad.

She was still wearing the red velvet dress with the empire waistline with a beaded poinsettia pattern stitched over her heart. The ground was soft with the carpet of wet leaves. Estella is her name now.

She told me.

"I want to be important."

I responded with exasperation and no small amount of exhaustion.

"Well you win. You're the most important thing in my entire mind when you drive everything with fear and keep me in low grade panic for weeks. But I hate it. It's not a good life."

Her face says "ooops".

I manifest, for comparison, a form that I think would more closely match the function she is currently performing. A Huge Beast of a man, with a giant spiked mace and an executioner's hood. An Oppressive figure.

She blanches at him. I made him look horrible on purpose.

She does not apologize. "I don't have to love anyone. Or act a certain way. I don't have to do anything." She crosses her arms.

She took, out of context, these words from what I thought was a rather uplifting podcast I listened to on the way home yesterday.

"When you speak of the people in my life, our life, that exist in separate human bodies, with separate human minds, that is true of them. And I guess it is true of everyone in here as well, but those are a different kind of relationship because how you relate to me affects everyone in here."

I start walking away.

"I can choose to Ignore you. I can choose to chop you into little pieces and sort through every piece until I find the seed of you that I can crush between my teeth and devour the essence of what you are. I know you will keep coming back, but I am not going anywhere. We can dance this dance until the end of time, and be miserable. But that is not what I want. There are better Choices."

"If I could give you Any Job, I would give you the opposite Job from the one you have. I would give up safety to have you put that same energy into making us actually happy, letting us actually enjoy life. I spent such a long time obsessed with making other people the center of my universe, and I learned that I didn't have to do that. I learned that I don't have to be small or convenient to other people, but I never get those experiences. I just keep doing the same thing as I have always done, and I don't want to do it anymore."

I put my hands in my pockets and stop walking. I don't know if she has followed me. But I learned something from Orpheus. You should not look back. Nothing good will come of it.

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just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi · 3 years

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Taken - Rudy

TW: Kidnapped whumpee, captivity, pet whumpee, manhandling, trying to escape/run (doesn't get out of the house but tries), muzzle mention.

Rudy was shaking, finding it hard to breathe in the car trunk. His fingers hurt from scratching at the scratchy carpet and plastic. There was another bump and he yelped. Out, out, out, out please, please, please, please let me out. Let me go home.

Tears poured down his face as he sobbed into the carpet. Where was the masked figure taking him? What did they want? He shuttered violently at the thoughts running through his head. Byre. The pet he oversaw on Master’s computer. Masters could be horrible monsters and he knew that. His Master never was, but his Master also wasn’t the type to steal pets from the park.

The car turned one last time and stopped, turned off.

Rudy thought he might throw up.

Moments later, the door opened and Rudy closed his eyes as tight as he could, curling away from the opening. A hand landed on his shoulder and he jolted, hitting his head on the hard plastic above him.

“P-P-Please, please take me home. Please, I need to be home, I need to be with Master and Clyde ple-”

The hand wrapped around his arm and pulled him forwards and partially out of the opening. In a panic, he jammed his legs against the trunk, holding onto the edge.

“No! No! No nonono! Please! Help!” he screamed, but the figure didn’t respond except with another, stronger tug. His grip slipped and Rudy fell out of the trunk, hitting the concrete on his knees. He whimpered and tried to climb back into the trunk, but the person wrapped their arms around his waist and picked him up.

“Quiet down, I’m not going to hurt you.”

Rudy froze and opened his eyes. He was in a closed garage, being carried towards the house door. That voice, he had heard that voice before - hadn’t he? By the time the shock wore off, the person closed the door and placed Rudy on the floor. He scrambled away, looking up in terror at them.

They took off the mask and Rudy’s eyes went wide as saucers.

It was one of Master’s friend.

“Y-Y-You?” he stuttered, crawling back further away from the man and into the house. Casey smiled warmly at him and put the ski mask on a hook by the door.

“Me! Oh, I’m so glad you remember me!” He took a step forward and Rudy got to his feet, backing away.

“Why? Wh-why would you, you’re… w-what?”

Casey clapped his hands together and rubbed them overjoyed that he finally had the pet he had been wanting for so long. “This is so great. Here, I even got you a collar!”

He reached forward and Rudy practically dove away from him. Casey tutted at him and picked up a green leather collar that had been sitting on the counter. Rudy blanched and grabbed his collar with two hands.

“No! You can’t do that! This, this, this is my collar! I’m not your pet! I belong to Master Mason Driver! You know that! Let me go, let me go home!”

Casey shook a finger at him, face turning stern. “No, you don’t address your owner that way.”

Rudy was panting in fear, chest rising and falling quickly. He, that man, Casey, wasn’t his master. He knew well and good who he belonged to, and where he belonged. He glanced over his shoulder into the rest of the darkened house and bolted.

He could hear the man running after him, and he turned the corner out of the laundry room as fast as he could, sneakers squeaking on the tile. He saw the front door and sprinted towards it, desperately trying to pull it open. It was locked, and he couldn’t even see a deadbolt or latch on this side. He whined loudly and pounded on it, one hand still on the knob.

“Now-”

The voice was so close and Rudy ducked, twisting around and running in the opposite direction. Some part of him realised he was running deeper into the house, but the part that was screaming run run run was far louder.

He went down the hall and tried to dash into one of the open doors. Before he could, Casey grabbed the back of his shirt and threw him to the ground. Rudy struggled and fought, but the man was far larger and stronger. It wasn’t but a moment and Casey was sitting on his back, one arm pinned under him and the other twisted painfully behind his back.

Rudy sobbed, forehead pressing into the hardwood. “P-P-Please, please I want to go home.”

“You are home,” Casey emphasised, twisting his arm farther until he whined in pain. One hand pressed down on his back, making it hard to breathe. “Stay,” he ordered with a squeeze before he stood.

The pet did not stay.

The moment Casey was up, Rudy scrambled for his feet and ran back the direction they came from. He went back to the laundry room and the door to the garage they had just entered from, devastated to find but that one was locked as well. He heard heavy, consistent footsteps behind him and he pulled as hard as he could, pounding on it, kicking, crying out for help - for someone to hear him and save him.

He couldn’t remember anything after his head was slammed into the wood.

Rudy slumped to the floor and Casey grunted, annoyed but placiated for now. With care, he turned the boy onto his back and reached around to unclip his collar. The black leather one with Rudy’s name and Mason’s information was tossed in the trash, replaced with his rightful green one, cute little round tag engraved with ‘Archimedes’. The pet might not like the name change much, but Casey was ready to get it sorted out.

The other device he brought was a muzzle, thick and bitted. It was easy to fasten and lock onto the unconscious boy, not too tight but enough that it wouldn’t move or chafe. He didn’t want it to be uncomfortable. He would have to get used to it, anyway. He was being loud at the moment.

Smiling to himself and running a hand through the boy’s hair, Casey picked him up to bring him to the bed he had prepared. It was at the foot of his bed, where it should be. He laid him down gently and connected the leash to the collar with a small padlock. It might take Archimedes a while to get used to his new home, but Casey was so excited to get started.

tagging

@whumpingredroses @suspicious-whumping-egg @as-a-matter-of-whump @albino-whumpee

#whump #whump fic #kidnapping tw #captivity whump #pet whump #manhandling tw #failed escape attempt #muzzle mention #stalker arc: rudy and clyde #rudy and clyde don't need a tag #casey

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mxvladdy · 3 years

Note

Hi! just finished reading your Tumblr request on AO3 and I just looooove your writing ;; if it's not a problem I wanted to ask how you imagine that Lucifer, Mammon and Beel would react to a MC who is usually very quiet and not very expressive, impossible to embarrass or make nervous, to suddenly, one day manage to make her blush for the first time (Also, English is not my first language, so I hope this is okey) I wish you a lovely week ❤

A/N: This is adorable! Sorry for the slow turn around, I hope you enjoy!❤

Lucifer

Stoicism is something he normally finds very attractive in a woman. To be able to keep such a level of calm outlook during even times that might even shake him. He loves the idea of a power couple, and the way you hold yourself. You definitely make one.

It does grate him that he can’t fluster you like you do him, especially during your time together in private. He tries multiple ways to even just draw some color to your cheeks. Flowers in the classroom, hand written invitations to private dining establishments and venues, he even went to the human realm just to find some kind of familiar comfort to give to you. You love them all he knows but he wants, craves to see an uninhibited reaction from you. He’ll get it one day, his pride depends on it at this point.

Luck graces him one evening after a hellish work day. A fight in the school yard leading to property damage he had to do extra paper work for. The only saving grace of that was it wasn’t one of his brothers, this time. Only followed soon after by a report of yet another racket engineered by Mammon. Then, to top off a horrible day one of Belphie and Satan’s little “pranks” blew up half his office.

All his loose or unprotected paperwork, gone. Nothing but smoldering bits of ash. He was now more than ever thankful to have you by his side. Before he could get his hands on the two you stepped in shooing him away to deal with the other fires that needed to be put out while you handled his office.

Things got done, in record time for once. He was able to rewrite his notes for the next council meeting, but at the cost of your weekday dinner together. A pity, but he knew you understood. Trudging up to his room he looked forward to perhaps a few hours of sleep before the next crisis struck. Then he found you.

He chuckles to himself quietly leaning against his door frame. You had beaten him to his favorite resting roost. You sat on his favorite armchair, rolled up tight in his comforter. All he could see was a tuft of hair and the very tip of your nose. Beautiful as always, but he wanted to rest. Well-two birds, one stone and all…

He scoops you up envious of how deeply you could slumber and places you on his lap. Kicking off his shoes he sighs blissfully before resting his head back on worn leather.

Mini fic

You didn’t expect to see Lucifer tonight. Today has been the absolute definition of a shit show, on nights like these it wasn’t uncommon for you not to see him at all. You would normally place your bets on him being unconscious at his desk. Though, he couldn’t really do that tonight. You pat yourself on the back mentally knowing that he would be pleased with the work you and the brothers did cleaning up his office. While you couldn’t get them to apologize to Lucifer you at least got them to clean up what was salvageable in his study.

After a few hours of cleaning his office was back in working order and your feet were screaming for a break. Bidding the two miscreants farewell and making them promise to hold off on the pranks for at least a week you let your body lead you to Lucifer’s room. The room was how you left it that morning. Your slippers next to his by the door and your robe tossed haphazardly on his linen sheets. You make a beeline for the only piece of furniture Lucifer loved dearly. How many nights had you snuck in only to see him melting into the old chain. His long legs sprawled out and tangled in his foot rest, while his body sinks into the imprints he has left from years of use like a lover's embrace.

Yanking the thin comforter from his bed you curl into the divots with a yawn. Before you know it your eyes close and the crackling of the fireplace lulls you to sleep. You awake with a jolt, confused and disoriented for a moment before your sleepy brain catches up. You fell asleep alone on the soft leather but woke to something unyielding beneath you now.

Lucifer sits underneath you snoring softly. His arms rest around your blanketed body. His head tilts down over you, his nose tickling your hairline. Like always he sports a mild look of annoyance. His lips were drawn in a scowl, brows crinkling in displease. You could tell his jaw was tense even while he slept.

Freeing your arms from your cocoon you reach up from him moving to cup his twitching jaw. With practiced ease you began to message the pin joints. You smile to yourself moving down to his tense neck and shoulders. This had become a nightly ritual for you when you shared a bed. When you knew he was asleep you would start trying to work away some of his tension from the previous day. You swear in the morning that he looks better on the nights you get the chance to.

This was your little secret though. You couldn’t bear the thought of him knowing you did this. Not that you thought he would disapprove. Lucifer appreciated acts of service, but just the thought of him knowing made your whole body heat in a flush. You push the thoughts away focusing instead on the extremely tight muscles underneath his brow line. It amazed you that he didn’t have any wrinkles after all this.

So engrossed in your perusal of his features you didn’t notice him stirring till his warm palm traps your hand to his cheek. Before you realize it his lips push a firm kiss into the flesh of your palm. Scarlet eyes meet yours crinkling around the edges. They were warm and radiant. “You’re blushing.” His voice was deep and husky from what little sleep he got.

“What?” You stammer.

Lucifer leans in tapping his forehead on yours. He studies your wide eyes and pink face for a moment before cracking a smug grin. “I’ve never seen you flustered before. Your blush looks good on you.”

“You caught me off guard.” He nods, kissing the tip of your nose tenderly taking impish glee in your squirming.

“Good-I will strive to do so more often. I wish to see you as undone as you make me.”

Mammon

Stoic MC? Rare pair? Rare pair. Mammon wears his heart on his sleeve. Nothing about him is slick. From week one everyone knew he had it bad for you. He is so open with his affections whether he likes it or not. Unlike you.

Honestly, how were you always so controlled. Ain’t the dame supposed to be all blushy and giggly too? It-it makes him think he isn’t doing something right. Is he not treating you right? Were you unhappy?

So he goes to do what he does best. Scheme. There has to be someway to crack that stoic disposition of yours. He gets clingy-well clingier now. He starts springing random vacations on you. Expect to skip class whenever he thinks he won’t get skinned alive for it.

He’ll take you anywhere all his internet research tells him to. Black sand beaches, crowded boardwalks to see the lights, deserted hiking trails late in the evening to watch the fireflies. He is sure it will work. But nope, nada. You love every moment of it and show him with a soul searing kiss and sweet words of praise. But damn you if you aren’t always so cool about it.

He is about to throw in the towel when he finally gets what he wants. At work no less. It was completely by accident but he isn’t one to complain. Perhaps he should go to work more often.

Mini Fic

“Pucker up!” Mammon’s make-up artist orders, squeezing his cheeks between her thumb and forefinger. “And for Diavolo’s sake put your phone down.”

“Shove off Cazzin.” Mammon sputters around the sour tasting lip stain and plumper. His eyes still glued to his screen. His freshly done nails swiping at picture after picture of fancy hotels and spas. Just thinking about taking you a private spring got his blood boiling in the best ways.

“Woooow.” Cazz whistles through her fangs looking at his screen. “Who is the lucky lady you are trying to impress this time?

“Mammon bristles, shooting her a murderous glance. The smaller demon blanches, purple skin turning ashy with fear. Her eyes drop to the floor immediately in submission, a sincere apology falling from her lips. “My girlfriend.” He says finally after cooling down. “I’m-I’m trying to impress her or something.”

“Well, pretty sure with a price tag like that anyone would be impressed.” Mammon only grunts barely glancing at the excessive amount of zeros on the page. Any other girl he knew would be a blushing mess after getting a gift like this. Hells, even Cazz was eyeing the site with open envy and excitement. Yet, this wasn’t the first time he had done something like this with you. Every time he did all he got was a blisteringly radiant smile and kisses that probably could send him back to heaven if he didn’t have a life long ban there. Not that that was a bad thing...but he just wanted more.

“You would think so…” He trails off clicking his phone off to focus on the rest of his routine. No sooner had his hair and make-up artist finished then his director was stomping and shouting down the hall for him to get his ass on set. Grimacing Mammon slides off his seat stretching to spare himself a few more seconds of peace. He stops at the door taking one last look at his get up for this shoot.

Damn, he looks good. It was time for a new spring collection, but more importantly, his most popular season. The light spring colors always brought out his best features. The pastel cotton shirt they “fashionably” threw him in hung casually around his frame. Buttons “tastefully” undone to show the smooth planes of his freely waxed and oiled skin. The linen board shorts and finishing touch of leather sandals gave him the perfect beach vibe. At top dollar mind you.

Hmmm-perhaps he could borrow this outfit for your next beach outing.

Unable to tone out his bosses shouting anymore Mammon makes his way to set. He thinks hard on what else he can go or take you to impress you, ignoring the poking and prodding of his camera men and set designers. His partners today, two incubus twins stood sourly next to him. They had been at this for hours and even he was ready for a break from the sweltering heat of the lights.

“Alright! Alright!” The director broke an hour later tired of the twins whining. He throws his hands in the air in exasperation. “We’ll break for an hour for lunch- lost the light as is.” He huffs stumping off for a smoke break.

“Finally,” Mammon sighs from his pose on the ground. “Think I got sand in my ass.” He gets up from the ground grimacing as he tries to brush the grit off his legs. “Shit starts to burn when they get hot.” One of the twins nods looking down at their own arms. Tiny burn marks showing on their fair skin, they will heal by the time the shoot resumes, doesn’t mean they will be happy about it.

“Want to grab lunch?” The twins ask tossing him a towel to blot at his sweating brow. “New food truck is coming in today.” Mammon shakes his head. You had packed him something to eat this morning and he kind of wanted to enjoy it in peace for once.

Waving the two off he hurries back to his room already salivating at whatever tasty food you got him. Halfway to the door he stops, the fine hairs on his neck standing up. Someone was in his dressing room. Devil’s please don’t let it be another rabid fan. He pleads before creeping forward to check. Whoever it was left the door ajar, peaking in he stares enraptured.

When did you get here? It wasn’t abnormal for you to just drop by while he was working, but you usually waited for him on set behind the cameras. You sit humming to yourself reading something on your lap, feet kicking out innocently while you wait for him. Flipping a page he gets a glimpse of what you’re reading. His feathers ruffle in satisfaction. He had plans on showing you these shots before their release date. They still needed approval from his director but he knew they were great. You flip through shot after shot humming or nodding at some. One shot makes you stop fully, eyes growing wide.

Mammon snorts to himself, knowing exactly which photo you stopped on. The next issue was focusing on “Elegance in the work space”, whatever that means. His designer for the projects went a little overboard with the cuts and designs of the business suites he was to model. The sketches and drafts she had thrust at him had made his head spin. They were all amazing in his opinion, but one had been killer, everyone had agreed on that. If he didn’t know any better he was certain that it would put him on the cover. By the way you were looking at it, he was hoping it would.

That suit really complimented all of his features. It was form fitting accenting his slim waist but hid the slight sloping of his shoulders. The gold of the threading of his vest was done up in soft floral patterns that popped against the dark navy blue of the suit's fabric. The dark blue really brought out the lightness of his eyes. The look was topped off with a bright yellow silk pocket square, polished leather wingtips and gold cufflinks. He was about to interrupt you when he saw it, that one thing he wanted more than anything.

The pink starts at your ears swiping across the bridge of your nose before blooming on your round cheeks. It was breathtaking. Thinking he was being sneaky, Mammon whips out his phone for a quick picture, no one would believe him unless he had solid evidence. But the flash gives him away.

“Mammon!” You jump caught, hands flying to cover your warm face.

“Oi! None of that!” Mammon moves quickly snatching your hands away from your face beaming. “I’ve been waiting for ages to see this face on ya, an’ all it took was a picture of me?”

“You- you clean up really nicely, Mammon.” His hearts flutter at your soft admission.

“Huh,” Mammon scratches his neck, feeling his own blush coming forth. “Well- I mean I could do that more often, so long as you keep looking at me like this when I do.” He picks up the stack of photos from the floor where you dropped them in surprise. “Ya know- I still got that suit.”

Your face turns molten- oh he was going to have a field day with this.

Beelzebub

Doesn’t even notice at first. He is kind of the same way with expressing himself too- unless food is involved. So if you are content then he is content, so who cares if you don’t show it on your face?

Well- he didn’t care, until Belphie brought it up. His twin didn’t mean anything by it; he knew that, but it made him wonder. He trusts you when you say you are happy, you have no reason to lie to him. But date nights, game nights, and family dinners you were always so impassive.

It makes him wonder, not enough to ask you though. Truthfully, he is a little embarrassed that he can’t read you as you do him. He won’t force it like his brothers might. He is patient and hopes one day it will just come naturally like it does for him around you.

Mini Fic

Beel watches you over his lunch. You two were silent as you ate, but that was to be expected on days like these. The school cafe was packed with students all jockeying to get a place in line for today’s special. He had gotten there early for the both of you to gap a few of the specials and sides before they were gone. “Are you ok?” He puts his fork down leaning in close to speak to you across the small table. It creaks dangerously under the weight of his elbows on it. You look up from your tea mug. He smiles at your perpetually mild expression, your eyes were hard but your lips and brows were relaxed giving away nothing.

“Of course.” You smile up at him, face smooth and controlled. “Just excited about tonight.”

Hmph, could have fooled him. Beel leans back, studying you intently. He hopes you were as excited as he was for tonight. A new arcade had opened on the edge of town last week and he thought it would be a great date night for the two of you. He had expressed to you on several occasions how he was looking forward to the roller rink and the hoop games. You seemed eager, giving him a closed lip grin every time he brought it up. “Me too.” Beel says finally turning back to his food. “Think we will win any prizes?”

You snort dismissively. “Us? The dream team? I would be surprised if we didn’t win something. Have you seen the plushies?” You pull out your phone and show him their Devilgram. “I want to try and get the hydra one…” You prattle on and scroll through all the cute prizes on their site. He nods along taking a mental note of all the ones that you pointed at, determined to get each and every one for you.

School goes by quickly, far too quickly for him. Each tick of the clock caught him by surprise, jacking his nerves up more and more. It wasn’t like it was his first date with you, but it never stopped the butterflies from starting in his stomach. After school he changes quickly and waits for you by your bedroom door. He fiddles with the zipper of his jacket until you finally open your door.

“Ready?” The smile you throw up at him is breathtaking. “Hope you don’t mind my get up. You mentioned a roller ring so I figured something sporty and functional would be appropriate.” You kick out a leg waving a hand over your bright sport leggings.

Beel chuckles offering you his large hand. “You look adorable as always.”

Being with you was as easy as breathing to him now. After all your time together in the house getting to know you you became one of his closest friends, even before you started dating. You shared many of his interests and wasn’t afraid to argue your point if you saw fit. You fill the train ride to the arcade with idle chatter, goofy selfies to send to his siblings, and annoying the other passengers with your ill-contained chuckles.

The place itself was packed but well spread out to handle the massive throngs of demons and beasts coming for drinks and a good time. “Come on!” You shout over the other very drunk and very loud customers tugging at his sleeve. “Let’s get some coins and find an empty station.” He lets you lead. You take full advantage of his impressive frame to part the crowds around you as you hunt for a free spot. “See anything?”

Beel peers over the heads of most of the demons and looks out. In the far corner sat a few jump rope games that were free. “Stay close.” He murmurs in your ear wrapping a protective arm your shoulders so you wouldn’t be swept away in the flow of the crowd. The games were...hard. Mentally Beel kicks himself. Of course an arcade in the Devildom wouldn’t be geared for humans. They were built for demons' fast reflexes and inhuman strength. You were a good sport about it though, cheering him on when the games began to move too fast for your senses. If a game broke in his zeal to get you tickets, well you were both fast walkers.

“Think we have enough?” Beelzebub asks hours later around a popsicle. His jacket pockets bulge with multicolored tickets screaming to be spent.

You hum around a scoop of ice cream. “Possibly-” Your eyes flick to the prize booth. “And extra, you want a plushie too?” He shrugs. No doubt the moment it got into his room Belphie will steal it to add to his horde.

You end up getting your stuffed hydra and a giant fuzzy minotaur to keep it “company”. You clutch them close to your chest, seemingly happy with your bounties. After that you spend a bit at the roller ring before you finally had to call it a night. Exhausted you lag behind Beel as you make your way back to the train station, feet dragging with each step.

Wordlessly, Beel stops just in front of you. “Here,” He squats, offering you his back, arms stretched out behind him. “I can take us the rest of the way to the stop.” He feels you hesitate for a moment before climbing on to his back.

“Thank you.” He thinks nothing of how soft your voice was, just barely a tickle at the base of his neck. Beel treks one once you are secure, stuffing his hands in his pockets to lock you in place. The rest of the walk was quiet but he didn’t mind it, your warm body and soft breathing in his ear was a comfort.

He stops at the benches with a few minutes to spare before your train. “We are here. Do you want-” He gasps quietly, cutting himself off before he could accidentally wake you. You sleep on unperturbed by his voice. Your hold on around his neck was tight, your head buried in his neck.

It seems only when you're sleeping do you let your guard down. A blush sweeps across your face, your lips pulled up into a serene smile. You looked-happy. Happy in a way he never saw before. He won’t say anything about it, he decides. He’ll cherish this tiny expression all the same. Perhaps one day he’ll see when you're awake too.

#Request #om beelzebub #om lucifer #om mammon #im slowly cranking them out!!!#obey me shall we date

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gtanddragons · 3 years

Text

Caught

A companion piece to @hopemakesstuff‘s works “Protecting Assets” and “Role Reversal”, this one is tied into our friend group’s Shifter!Makoto AU! In which everyone’s favorite lucky boy can (somewhat) control his ability to change his size, and all the shenanigans that ensue as a result.

Warnings: Contains spoilers for chapter two of DR1.

(Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid—!)

He’s practically mumbling those words to himself in a feverish mantra as he forces himself to hurry down the tiled hallway of Hope’s Peak Academy.

(Need to find somewhere to hide—!)

Makoto is trembling, panting from the effort of making his way through the school— although it would normally be a simple task, it was certainly anything but now that he was stuck at a meager three inches tall. Despair hung heavy over his head as what would ordinarily be a few minutes’ walk to the first floor classrooms had already taken him… what, twenty minutes at this brisk pace? Thirty? It felt like an eternity had passed, and yet he still had a ways to go.

The dining hall was closer, certainly, but it was also almost certain that everyone would be gathered there for the breakfast meeting.

He feels guilty for missing it. Just one more reason to scold himself— he should’ve eaten last night. Should have gotten some rest. Shouldn’t have worn himself ragged, because now he’s stuck at his most vulnerable in a school full of other students who could (and maybe even would) kill him without a second thought. Maybe even by accident, and that’s somehow an even more repulsive thought.

The only other student who even remotely knows about his… condition… is Kyoko Kirigiri. Not of his own volition, of course, but she’d figured it out a lot quicker than he’d expected.

…No, there was yet another person who knew. Had known, since they had gone to school together since they were children.

But there isn’t any point in making himself even more depressed by thinking about her. Not right now. Either way, she can’t help him now— and he can’t rely on finding Kyoko to help him, not when she’s likely still with the others in the dining hall. He can’t risk exposing himself to everyone else like this.

For a brief moment, his thoughts go quiet, having finally exhausted themselves.

(It’s okay. I’m almost to the classroom. I can just… hide in there under the teacher’s desk or something, wait to be able to shift back up to normal. And it wouldn’t be a lie to say that my stomach was hurting this morning—)

“Puhuhu~! And wheeeere do you think you’re going, little mister lucky student?”

Makoto yelps as an all-too-familiar figure pops out from seemingly nowhere— but this time, Monokuma towers over him, making the already-terrifying headmaster seem even more like a horrible monster than a cute little bear plushie.

Monokuma leans down and crosses his stubby arms as best as he’s able, still chuckling all the while. “I’ll admit, it’s kiiiiinda cute watchin’ you scurry around like that.~”

Makoto winces and takes an involuntary step back, gulping as the headmaster’s sharp teeth come closer into view. “I— I, um. I’m… going to the classroom…”

The bear pats his cheek thoughtfully, that unsettling grin still a mere foot away. “Ahhh, don’t wanna go to the dining hall, huuuuh? Smart move! Don’t wanna accidentally make one of your classmates a murderer, ‘cause. Yooou know.~ It would be such a shame if someone were to step on ya, or— ohhhh, how horrid! If you wound up as someone’s lunch. How cruel! Gahahaha!”

A chill runs up Makoto’s spine, and it takes all of his willpower to not fall back in fear at that obnoxiously-loud laughter. Thankfully, though, Monokuma gets out of his face as he straightens up.

“Ahhh… I should proooobably let you go. After all, wellllll… just try not to get caught, eh? Puhuhu!”

And once again, the bear is taking off fast enough for Makoto’s head to spin, still left confused over what Monokuma had meant— until the sound of footsteps in the distance catches his attention. Coming from further down the hallway…

Makoto suddenly tenses, his face blanching. He recognizes the sound of the voices drawing ever closer, and even at this distance, it’s easy to see just who’s coming his way.

Byakuya… and, trailing behind him… Toko.

...No. Judging from the obnoxious laughter resounding through the school hallway… that would be Genocide Jack. Great.

(Gghk--! How did I not hear them getting closer--?!)

Makoto furiously shakes his head-- he could take more time to curse Monokuma, and his awful luck, later. For now, he needs to find a place to hide, but staying out in the open hallway is practically a death wish.

He desperately glances in the direction of classroom 1-A-- he’ll have to run towards Byakuya and Jill’s general direction, but if he hurries…!

(I-I’m already worn out, but just a little more--!)

Makoto takes off at a full-blown sprint to the classroom, all too aware of the potential consequences of getting caught. His heart hammers in his chest as the footsteps draw closer, his two classmates coming into view like towering buildings on the horizon.

“Ugh… if this turns out to be some kind of goose chase, I swear…” Byakuya complains, his nose crinkling in disgust. He’d been attempting to enjoy picking apart case files in the archive over a cup of coffee this morning, but apparently even that was too much to ask. First he’d been besieged by Genocide Jack-- his new apparent fangirl, even pushier than Toko-- and then that accursed bear had shown up and caused a ruckus, insisting on showing them something interesting. But as of yet, Byakuya had yet to see anything even remotely worthy of his attention, and he was starting to get even more frustrated.

“Kyahaha! Ohh, Master, you know I can’t resist that stormy, sullen face! This whole ‘goose chase’ is worth every step~!”

Byakuya lets out a world-weary sigh, gritting his teeth as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

(Just keep tuning her out or you’ll get an even worse headache, Byakuya. Why couldn’t she have been the guilty party in this most recent--)

A sudden yelp from Jill drags him out of his thoughts, the serial killer’s arm snapping up to point down the hall in front of them.

“Oh look at that!”

Byakuya’s gaze shifts to where she’s pointing fast enough to get the faintest glimpse of… something. Something small-- a blur of movement in the doorway of the classroom at the end of the hall.

“Oooh, what was that?! A mooouuusee? And it thinks it can run from meeee?”

Byakuya isn’t surprised when Jill suddenly tears off down the hallway towards the classroom, shrieking with laughter. But as he follows after her, he can’t resist the slight increase of speed in his steps-- had that thing really been a mouse? He’d only seen it for a split second, but the color and shape had seemed… off. Some kind of robot like Monokuma, perhaps? A new clue…?

Either way, perhaps this tedious distraction would prove to be fruitful in the end…

Jill is on her hands and knees the moment after she rushes into the room, prowling the classroom and sniffing the air like some kind of wild animal.

“Awww, think you can hide? From me? Cuuuuuute. Now…”

Jill grins madly even as she pokes her head under a nearby desk.

“Come out, come out, whereeeever you aaaaare~!”

—

It doesn’t take long for Byakuya to follow after Jill and reach the doorway to the classroom, but even then… by the time he gets there, he’s met with the sound of desks clattering to the floor in one chaotic sweep, a triumphant yell (“Gotcha!”), and… the sight of Jill huddled up with something clutched in her hands.

Something squirming and… crying out.

Byakuya’s brows dart sharply upwards. Although he can’t quite see, and the sound is so small… he recognizes that terrified squawking.

“Aw, boo,” Jill grumbles. “Tch, not even big enough for one of my scissors…”

Byakuya hardly has any time to react before Jill turns around and—

His hands instinctively snap outwards as something is tossed in his direction. Whatever it is hits squarely in the palms of his hands and his fingers curl tightly around it, a flailing, warm weight that could only belong to a living creature— the thought alone nearly makes him drop the thing in revulsion.

(Did she just throw a filthy mouse at—?!)

“Soooorry Master~!” Jill croons, before pouting and tapping the blade of her scissors against her cheek. “Hmph… here I was hoping for some real meat, or a full-size cute boy… not a bite-sized happy meal with a little Mac.”

(What on Earth is she prattling on about now—?)

Byakuya looks down to his hands, wincing at the feeling of the little creature in his hands struggling in his grip… but as soon as he looks down, he can hardly tear his eyes away.

Caught haphazardly in his fingers, struggling and whimpering… is none other than Makoto Naegi. For once, Byakuya is at a loss for words, blinking disbelievingly at the ridiculous sight.

“Speaaaaking of meat,” Jill interrupts, her sullen mood ending with a quick snip of her scissors. “Let’s keep looking around, Master! I’m sure that goose must be somewhere around here.~”

With an obnoxiously loud cackle, she’s already out the door again— momentarily leaving Byakuya alone with his ‘catch’.

His grip loosens considerably at not feeling any more resistance; for a second, he feels a sudden twinge of grim resignation, thinking that perhaps the tiny boy sprawled out in his hands had died from the impact… though that theory is quickly disproven as he leans his head in closer, noting the subtle rise and fall of Makoto’s chest.

Just unconscious, then. Though, just to make sure (and to satiate some of his burning curiosity), Byakuya cautiously runs his fingertips over Makoto’s limbs.

Nothing broken, and… after using the tip of his nail to lift up Makoto’s hoodie and shirt, he can safely say that his little classmate managed to escape the ordeal with minimal bruising.

“‘Ultimate Lucky Student’ indeed,” Byakuya mutters. He lifts his hands even higher, squinting to get a better look at Makoto’s face.

The boy seems peaceful, at least, although…

…He shakes his head and rolls his eyes. The dark circles under Makoto’s eyes are none of his concern. What is his concern, however…

Byakuya gives the classroom one last, cursory glance before carefully slipping Makoto’s limp form into his blazer pocket. A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, even as he exits the classroom.

Finally, something interesting.

Very, very interesting.

#gtronpa #alt title: makoto regrets his life choices (part 1 of several)#shifter!makoto au #giant/tiny #astral makes stuff #the writing corner #fandom g/t

24 notes · View notes

sevlgi · 3 years

Text

i think i love you

requested: no

group: red velvet

pairing: yeri x fem!reader (feat irene)

genre: fluff, angst

contents: unrequited love, sad christmases.

warnings: none

synopsis: One time you said it to the wrong person, three times you couldn’t say it aloud, and the last time you ever needed to be sorry for loving someone.

a/n: i hope you enjoy, and have yourself a very merry christmas 💖i may or may not be projecting with this fic, so uh... ignore that.

word count: 4.2k

“Oh come on, come on, come on!”

You panted harder than you ever had before as you ran through the train station, feet thudding against the ground in a way that wasn’t graceful in the slightest. Your knuckles where white with how you clutched your car keys in your hand, and your eyes scanned the station for the petite figure you were looking for.

To your dismay, not a single person had the dark waves cascading down their back, nor the peachy sweater and jeans that you remembered Joohyun to be wearing when she left the apartment. There wasn’t a white Chanel bag in sight, and certainly no unfairly beautiful face either.

But there-- a couple feet ahead of you, the same outfit you remembered, or at least a similar one. A white bag, a petite figure growing closer and closer as you ran closer at top speed.

And a collision, an unflattering “oof” escaping you as you hit the person you believed to be your crush of years. “I think I love you,” you blurted without even seeing Joohyun’s face, stumbling back when the girl who turned back was decidedly not her.

Had you not been so hung up on the older girl, you would’ve realized that the body you collided with was just as beautiful, that the smile on the stranger’s face was just as charming. “Uh. Wrong person?” she offered, cocking her head.

All of a sudden, you realized that her hair was too short, too straight to be Joohyun. She was probably a bit shorter, and her sweater wasn’t peach at all, more of a light pink color. “I-- I am so sorry,” you gasped, ducking down in a bow. “Oh my god, I wasn’t thinking straight.”

“I figured,” the stranger laughed. “Joohyun. That’s a girl’s name, isn’t it?”

When you hesitated to answer, apprehension about Korea’s conservative history obviously showing in your expression, she reassured you with her hands held up in the air, “I’m not homophobic, promise. Won’t jump you.”

“Yeah. She’s-- well. I love her.”

Rather than responding, she held her hand out to you to shake, fingers warm and surprisingly strong against yours. “Cool. I’m Yerim, but a lot of my friends just call me Yeri.”

“Yeri. Got it.” You attempted to smile back, still fearing that Yeri would hit you back or something. (Okay, unrealistic, but you had expected a K-drama moment with your crush in the train station. You were born unrealistic.) “Uh, I’m Y/N.”

Yeri nodded, checking her phone with a nonchalance that lead you to think that strangers hit her and confessed their love to her on the daily. “Right. Hey, could I ask you a favor? You can totally say no.”

There was no way you could refuse a chance to assuage your own guilt, and you didn’t really want to chase after Joohyun when her train was probably already gone, so you shrugged. “Sure, give it a shot.”

The girl smiled, nodding at the keys still fisted in your hand. “Could you drive me somewhere? I’d ask my friend, but I don’t really trust her to drive.”

“You’d rather go with a possible murderer than ask your friend to drive you?” you joked, face blanching when you realized what it implied. “I’m not-- that was a joke, by the way. I’m not a murderer.”

“If you knew Seulgi, you’d understand,” Yeri snickered, tugging her bag behind her in the direction that you came from. “So, is that a yes?”

It wasn’t smart-- that much was obvious. The smart thing to do would’ve been to call Joohyun before she left the station, to beg her to come back instead of letting her leave with a hatred for you permanently instilled into her heart. But smart was never your forte.

You jogged over to Yeri, pulling her in the actual direction of your car with a grin and an offer to pull her luggage for her. “It’s this way.”

Driving a random stranger home from the only train station in town shouldn’t have resulted in anything. You should’ve just dropped her off at the house she was staying at for the rest of the year, then driven off to moan about your terrible luck in love to Sooyoung.

But instead, Yeri didn’t close the door of the car immediately, peering inside at you with the curious smile on her face that you’d come to like over the 30-minute car ride. “Well? Are you coming? Seulgi wants to vet you.”

“Uh. Sure.” You locked the car behind you, hefting up the girl’s remaining luggage as the front door swung open, another girl rushing out to hug Yeri fiercely.

“Yerim, you little shit! How could you just ask a stranger to drive you home instead of me?” she whined, pouting down at the grinning girl you’d driven home. Seulgi, you assumed, was pretty-- unique monolids, wispy bangs, and a full mouth setting her apart from most girls you tended to see in your hometown.

“In my defense, you’re a horrible driver, unnie,” Yeri answered, prying herself out of Seulgi’s grip. She beckoned you over, taking the suitcase from your hands with a grunt. “Seulgi unnie, Y/N. Y/N, Seulgi unnie. Oh. I don’t know if she’s an unnie for you...” she frowned.

You half-expected Seulgi to maim you (again, unrealistic), but she tugged you into a hug that could’ve easily cracked a rib or two. “Thank you for driving Yeri home,” she smiled when she pulled away. “I’m offended on her comments about my driving skills, but that’s not your fault. Come in?”

Going inside for a cup of coffee ended up being about 5 hours of playing video games with the two girls, and laughing harder than you had for a good year or so. Indeed, it was the most you’d forgotten about Joohyun for a while, and it would be a lie to say that it wasn’t a relief.

You only came back to Earth when Sooyoung called you in a panic. “Y/N, Joohyun said that she’s already back in Daegu. You didn’t stop her?”

“Oh.” You glanced back to Seulgi and Yeri, hitting each other with the remote controls on the couch as Mario Kart’s winning page played triumphant music. “I... I didn’t get to her in time. I’m sorry.”

Sooyoung sighed over the line, voice tinny. “Don’t be sorry. Joohyun’s always been stubborn. Did you at least get to tell her? You know, that you lo--”

“I didn’t,” you cut your best friend off, lips thinning. You didn’t want to think about Joohyun or her rejection of your feelings, not when it had been the only thing on your mind for a good couple of years. “Sorry, Sooyoung. I gotta go, but I’ll be home soon.”

Without giving her a chance to speak, you hung up. It wasn’t her fault, of course, but it got annoying sometimes to be constantly reminded that you had to be honest sometime in your life. “I think I should go,” you smiled sheepishly at Yeri, tucking your phone away. “But thank you for today.”

“Hey, gimme that,” she suddenly called, reaching for your phone. Confused, you handed the unlocked device to her. “Okay, I’m saving myself as Yeri. You better not forget my name, because I’m texting you,” she warned, smiling wide when she handed it back.

A surprisingly genuine smile was directed at her as you accepted your phone, now with a cute selfie of Yeri as the profile picture of a brand new contact. Bowing to Seulgi, you grabbed your bag from the rack by the door. “See you soon, I guess?”

“Bye, Y/N!” the oldest girl called out, waving excitedly all the way until the front door locked behind you.

Taking a deep breath of cold night air, you pressed your fingers to your sternum to try and quell the beats of your heart. As you unlocked the door to your car and slid into an icy driver’s seat, you were hit with the longing to go back, back inside a warm living room filled with the laughter of two people who had no business being so welcoming towards you.

But you turned the key and switched the radio to a loud song that echoed inside the vehicle when you drove away. There was no warmth in your life, as you had to remind yourself, and you couldn’t get used to any, in case it made you let go of the only person you held close.

It seemed that Yeri existed purely to shock you, as you were pleasantly surprised by her call a week following the strangest occurrence of your life.

For the first silent week, you were oddly disappointed that she didn’t contact you. Some lingering hope for friendship, you assumed, was behind it all, and you did your best to brush it aside at work. You didn’t tell Sooyoung about Yeri’s existence at all, for fear that it’d backfire on you when she ultimately left you alone.

Instead, she called you in the middle of grocery shopping. “Hello?” you frowned, holding the phone to your ear without checking the caller name.

“Y/N! Did I catch you at a bad time?” Yeri asked, voice just as cheery as you remembered it to be. It was odd how much just hearing her made you perk up.

“Oh, not at all.” You set a bag of chips down and switched ears, moving to a quieter section of the supermarket. “What’s up?”

Yeri hummed slightly, rustling around. “Well, I was going to ask if you’re up for a movie night. I’m bored today, and Seulgi’s off visiting her girlfriend. Do you have anything to do?”

Movie nights reminded you of being a teenager, watching dumb movies off the internet with your friends and shrieking at kiss scenes. Suffice to say, you missed it, and Yeri seemed like the perfect person to forget about all responsibilities with. “Nothing at all,” you grinned, heading towards the alcohol section. “By the way, what kind of wine do you like?”

“I hate the Titanic,” Yeri sniffled, popping another handful of popcorn into her mouth. “Jack’s stupid. Rose should find a wife and live happily ever after.”

“A wife?” you laughed, rolling over just to shove the girl. “In that time period? Unrealistic, Yerim, settle for bondage like the rest of us.”

She pouted, tilting her head to face you as well. The slight smell of alcohol on her breath mingled spicy-sweet with sugared popcorn, her flawless skin flushed pink. “Come on, don’t deny you want Rose to get a pretty wife too.”

You rolled your eyes, looking up at Rose hanging onto her board again. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“If I were Rose and you were Jack, I’d save you,” Yeri promised with a laugh, grinning when you looked at her with an incredulous look on your face. “I’m serious! Come on, the both of us could easily fit on that stupid board.”

“It’d sink,” you protested. “Didn’t you say you were good at math and stuff?”

“Math,” she pointed at the screen, “has nothing to do with gay expectations of movies.”

When she laid her head back down, under the makeshift blanket fort you’d made together to ward against the night’s chilliness, her nose almost brushed up against yours, Yeri’s eyes sparkling with the light from Seulgi’s flatscreen TV. “You’re right again,” you admitted just to stop staring at the other girl, flipping onto your stomach to watch the movie. “You’re right.”

It should’ve been awkward, but the girl just grappled for her phone, earning a kick from you when the screen was too bright in a pitch black room. “I want takeout. Are you with me or against me, Y/N?”

You suffocated her with a pillow, snatching the phone to set your own order. “Depends. Are you going to steal my fried chicken?” you demanded, laughing when Yeri smacked you with the pillow herself. “Answer the question!”

“You pay, and I won’t,” she promised, holding her arms up to protect her head. “Oh, it’s on!”

When you collapsed under the half-collapsed blanket fort, sweaty with an order of fried chicken displayed on Yeri’s phone screen and the credits to Titanic rolling, you felt a phrase on your tongue that you hadn’t said since the train station. When Yeri smiled at you, you felt your lips parting to let the words out, and you felt your hand clamping over the 5 words you had already told her by mistake.

It was too fast, too intense to be real. Unlike the 5 years it had taken you to realize you loved Joohyun, it took two hangouts and one chaotic car ride for you to feel something that could burn you up from the inside if you weren’t careful.

I think I love you.

“I hope you like kimbap, because I am the Kimbap Destroyer!”

You chuckled as you shut the door to the apartment you shared with Sooyoung, said roommate nowhere to be found as a crash sounded from your kitchen. “How’d you get in, Yeri? Picked the lock?”

The girl appeared with rice-sticky gloves still on, freshly dyed hair tied up in a ponytail for cleanliness. “Joy let me in on her way out. Is that her real name, by the way?” she asked, returning to the kimbap rolls laid out on your counter. “She’s really pretty.”

“Hey, no simping for my roommate,” you protested, something bubbling at the back of your throat despite Yeri’s joking tone. You hugged her from behind as you knew she liked it, reaching over to snack on some of the extra seaweed. “Besides, isn’t she too old for you?”

“Says you, in love with a girl years older,” Yeri protested. When you fell silent, though, she winced at her own insensitiveness. “I’m sorry. Shouldn’t have joked like that.”

You shrugged it off, peeling your work jacket off. “No problem. I should be over her by now anyway, she hasn’t talked to me or Sooyoung since the train station. Months. She obviously doesn’t give a shit about me.”

Yeri frowned at that, staring at the back of your head as you looked out the kitchen window. “Hey. You know that isn’t true. And if it was, I’ll have you know that plenty of people care about you. Me, Joy, Seulgi, and all of your friends.”

Turning around with a grin on your face that didn’t convince the other girl for a second, you slung your arm around her shoulders. “Wow, Kim Yerim, when did this turn into soft hours? Love you too~”

She let the subject go, throwing a leftover radish stick at you. “Is it time for love already? You’ve only known me for four months, do you always move this fast?”

No, you wanted to respond. No, I usually take years. But you’re an exception, a stupid exception that’s wormed your way into my heart.

Putting Yeri into a halfhearted headlock, you joked, “I’m basically a U-Haul lesbian. By this time, I expected us to already have kids, or at least a cat or two.”

Once she kicked you away, though, you felt the smile on your face falter, looking at this random girl who made you care about her so much making kimbap in your kitchen.

I think I love you.

You swayed at a side to fend from the December wind, hands stuffed deep into your coat pockets as Seulgi hung onto Yeri. Standing just a few feet away, Wendy and Sooyoung talked quietly, smiling at the sight of their friends.

It shouldn’t have been a somber occasion in any way; all that was happening was Yeri flying back home to spend the winter holidays with her family. But somehow, it was like the end of the world, Seulgi still talking in Yeri’s ear as you waited for your own turn.

“Go on, Y/N,” Seulgi urged, shivering in the windbreaker she wore. Her girlfriend enveloped her in a hug, Wendy’s petite frame making the sight almost comical. “Say goodbye.”

“She isn’t going off to the military,” you laughed, making your way over anyway. Yeri held her arms out for a hug, her hair whipping around like a tornado around her. Despite your words, you accepted the embrace, gloved hands lingering on the small of her back as you buried your nose into her shoulder. “I’m gonna miss you.”

Yeri giggled, twisting back and forth to make the hug a little less serious. “Like you said, I’m not going off to the military. I’ll be back before you know it, though I am sad that I don’t get to spend Christmas with you and our friends this year.”

“Mm.” You didn’t want to let go, and thankfully, Yeri didn’t mind, her humming vibrating through your body. “You have a good time with your sisters. Eat something nice, spend time with your family, and have fun.”

“Why do you sound sad?” she whispered in your ear, lips brushing against the sensitive skin. “I told you, I’ll be back before you know it.”

When you pulled away, you were struck with the sight of her, nose cherry red in the icy Seoul weather. The cloudy sky was a good lighting for her, though Yeri would look beautiful in any setting, and the look in her eyes stirred something sweet deep in your heart. “I know,” you sighed, bringing your hands up to your nose for warmth.

“Is there something you wanna say to me?” Yeri asked, wetting her lips slightly.

And of course, the answer was yes. After just a couple months of friendship, you already wanted to ruin it with that treacherous heart of yours, wanted to press your mouth to hers and thank her for all the unwarranted kindness she showed you. But you shook your head, stepping back to allow Seulgi to hug Yeri one more time before you had to leave.

She walked backwards into the airport just to wave to you, the grin on her face never fading. Sooyoung linked her arm in yours to tug you away when it was time, whispering, “Are you sure there isn’t something you wanted to say?”

I think I love you.

“I’m sure,” you sighed, breath forming a white dragon before your face. “I’m sure.”

Christmas stopped being fun for you at age 10, from what you remembered.

As soon as you became aware that Santa Claus was a lie, the holiday changed from being the most magical time of year to a 2 week break from school, or work, or both. It became the time to miss your family, to miss the childhood that wasn’t great but was a million times better than your adult life.

Joohyun was the one to make the holidays better ever since you met her. She was always able to somehow lighten the mood with a ticket to Lotte World, or a freshly baked gingerbread house for you to decorate and then smash. She hated making snow angels but always participated, tossing snow at you just to see that bright smile on your face.

But last year, that all changed. Last year, as soon as Joohyun knew that you felt something for her other than friendship, everything you built together crumbled down.

It was nothing against the fact that you were both girls; Joohyun had had girlfriends before, and she was always the one pushing you to date and get out of your comfort zone. However, for some reason, she couldn’t even contemplate the thought of being with you romantically.

She ran away that year, too, left you alone in your tiny, cold apartment during what was once again the worst time of year. She went back to her sister’s restaurant in Daegu, and came back after New Year’s like nothing changed. But of course it did; your friendship was irreparable, torn to pieces just like your heart. As the awkwardness between you stretched both of you thin, she completely moved out, switching roommates with Sooyoung before declaring that she was moving back to Daegu for good.

Christmas was even more ruined for you than it ever had been, and the only reason you still put up a Christmas tree was for Sooyoung, who still enjoyed the holiday. Your roommate was the only reason that a tree twinkled in the corner of the room, right next to the TV that played a stupid Hallmark movie in the middle of the night.

You expected for her to never come back. Why would she, after all? With her beautiful face and perfect personality, she could easy find someone new. A girl who possessed all the good qualities you didn’t have, a girl who lacked all the bad qualities you did have.

Nevertheless, when you heard a familiar knocking pattern on your apartment door, you knew who it was. And you knew that you didn’t have to get up from the couch to unlock the door for the former owner of the apartment, knew that you didn’t have to see her face to start crying.

“Y/N?”

“Joohyun,” you responded listlessly, not bothering to turn around as you heard the front door shut softly. “You’re back.”

“I’m sorry,” she said softly, appearing just as beautiful in your peripheral vision. God, you hated how your lungs seized at the sound of her voice, how many memories you could recall. “I’m so sorry for leaving you behind, and for making you feel... like this.”

Spite fueled you to raise an eyebrow, turning back to face her in the hopes that it pained her as much as it did you. “Sooyoung told you?” At the older girl’s nod, you scoffed, “She had no right to do that.”

“I’m glad she did,” Joohyun persuaded, sitting closer to you on the couch and only stopping at your glare. “Y/N, it’s wrong that I led you on. And I regret every bit of it, especially now that I know how much you’ve hurt.”

“Hurt?” You brought a trembling hand up to rake through your hair, shaking your head. “That’s undermining it. Joohyun, I loved you. And I tried to tell you that, but you wouldn’t let me. It’s too late to-- you can’t just come back into my life like this. I won’t let you.”

She flinched back as if you had slapped her, her hand withdrawing from where it had been trying to touch you. “I-- Y/N. That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?” you shouted suddenly, springing up. “You’re the one who isn’t fair. You left in June, but you’ve been gone for a year. And I don’t love you anymore!”

“That’s a lie, and you know it,” Joohyun answered back, softer than she had ever spoken before. She searched your eyes for an answer, biting her lip when she found none. “Isn’t it?”

“No.” Your voice was stronger than hers, a firm wall in front of your heart that wouldn’t let her in no matter what. And when no lie rung in your ears, you repeated, “It’s not a lie. You left me, and you can’t expect me to still love you, Joohyun. I love someone else now, someone who-- someone who wouldn’t hurt me like you.”

And to your surprise, the girl smiled. Tearily, but she smiled nonetheless, gathering her jacket from the back of the couch. “I see. Well, I... I’m glad that you found someone to mend your heart. I never wanted to hurt you, and I hope you’ll see that someday.”

Just like that, she was gone again, a whisper of her perfume the last thing fueling the rage burning in your lungs. Just like that, it was like she was never in the apartment at all, the space once again cold and empty.

Snatching a framed picture of Yeri off the dresser, you sighed and sat down again, chin in your hand as you stared at the smile that had ingrained itself into your brain. “Yeri, I don’t know what to do anymore. I... I really don’t love Joohyun anymore, but it still hurts.”

She didn’t respond, of course, but you waited a second before continuing. “But I wasn’t lying when I told her I loved someone else. Is it wrong that I moved on so quickly? Is it wrong that I let you replace her?”

Biting down on your lip, you held the picture closer to your chest. It was ridiculous to be treating a picture frame as your sense of comfort, especially when said girl probably didn’t know about your feelings or care about them in the slightest. “I think I love you.”

“Reminiscing about the way we met?”

You spun around in the couch, spine creaking embarrassingly with your speed. And there, Yeri stood in the doorway, hand still lingering on the doorknob as she smiled. “Or is it something else?”

Tripping over your own two feet was embarrassing, but the other girl didn’t seem to mind when you ran to hug her, eyes stinging when you hugged her with all your might, whispering with your eyes squeezed shut, “I love you. I love you I love you I-”

The taste of bitter words on your tongue was replaced with the sugar of Christmas cookies, soft lips moving against yours and cold hands at your jaw. Yeri was the warmth that you had missed in your arms, and you could only grin as you kissed her back.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N,” she laughed when she pulled back slightly to breathe, lips as red as the cranberries Sooyoung hung on the Christmas tree. “Merry Christmas.”

223 notes · View notes

collabwithmyself · 4 years

Text

1-3: Turnabout Transfix (2/2)

The article in the paper under the list of missing persons had the wrong name before "Wright, age nine," and a lump formed in Miles's throat.

"That's not his name," he tried to say. It came out as a croak. "We told them his name was Phoenix. I know we did."

Ray, sitting beside him at the dining room table, looked disgusted but defeated. "They added it as a footnote," he pointed out. ""Responds to Phoenix"... Nick's not a dog."

Miles wanted to hunt down every copy of the paper and throw them all into the trash can. His best friend was missing, and people were calling him the wrong name because he wasn't there to stop them. It wasn't fair.

Miles looked to Ray as though he had an answer to right this horrible injustice. Ray looked as tired and frustrated as he felt, chewing on a thumbnail as he thought deeply.

"We can head down and talk to them," he offered, after a long pause.

That was what Father would have done. He would have marched right down to the office where they printed the paper and demanded a retraction. But nobody was going to take a freshman law student and his newly adopted nine year old seriously.

"It's worth a try," Miles responded, because a defense attorney should never give up hope.

⁂

Staying up late to scrutinize the series he already knew by heart for clues of some sort was a mistake, and Miles knew it. His eyes began to droop only partway through the season as Maya snored against his side, and he was vaguely aware he was becoming less and less alert every time he had to pull his head back up from his chest.

It didn't occur to him that he shouldn't be letting himself doze off in the presence of company.

His sleep was never restful. Every night, his subconscious was forcibly yanked back to the day everything changed.

Some nights, he found himself reliving what he was certain was a memory. The dialogue never changed, the action never shifted. A heated argument in the elevator, a foolish bid to stop it, a single gunshot, and that horrid, high-pitched wail of agony that he knew belonged to one of the people he'd lost that day.

Other times, he dreamed not of his father, but of Phoenix.

Those dreams changed, but they remained the same nonetheless. Whether running through the streets with Larry, or through the backyard of his home, or through the hallways of the courthouse, the same thing always happened - Phoenix disappeared. Maybe he ran too far ahead, or lagged too far behind, but Miles's friend was suddenly nowhere to be found, and he felt painfully, crushingly alone.

His subconscious had decided to grace him with the former that night, and when he woke up with "father" on his lips and sweat on his forehead, a rumpled-looking Maya was staring at him in undisguised concern.

"...are you o--"

Miles turned away from her and said nothing, effectively stopping the conversation before it began.

Maya was silent, and when Miles glanced back over, her gaze was fixed on the television, which was still playing through the old episodes of Steel Samurai. She lacked the enthusiasm they both shared for the show, however. She seemed deep in thought.

"...you don't wanna talk about it?" she asked quietly.

He and Uncle Ray never talked after nightmares. One would get up to find the other in the kitchen nursing a cup of tea, and silently join them, knowing the other was thinking of the same thing but not having the courage to voice it aloud. Saying it gave it form, and Miles refused to shed any more tears over something he knew full well was his fault.

"No," Miles responded, sharp and blunt all at once.

"You wanna talk about something else, then?" Maya glanced sideways at him. "I used to talk with Sis after I had nightmares. It helped get my mind off things."

Miles hesitated. "Something else sounds nice," he said quietly.

"How about court today? Prosecutor von Karma was hopping mad, huh?" Maya let a grin stretch across her face as she leaned towards Miles. "She looked like she wanted to tear her hair out. Or maybe yours."

"That woman needs to see a therapist," he muttered.

"I think we all do, My."

"...you've got me there."

⁂

As the trial wore on throughout its second day, Sascha von Karma continued to act stranger and stranger. Before the judge could reprimand her for being far too harsh with the witness, Cody Hackins faltered and lost the confidence Miles had been working hard to build up about his witness account, a terrified look in his eyes. To his surprise, von Karma went ashen and actually stumbled back a little, like she hadn't meant to push a little boy nearly to tears.

Honestly, with her disposition, Miles wouldn't have thought she would care. But here she was, clutching her side, eyes blown wide with something like fear. Something in Miles's stomach turned over. Was he actually feeling sympathetic for this ferocious woman?

But it wasn't just him. Mia beside him (that had been a jolt to his nervous system -- he hadn't been able to see her clearly the last time Maya had summoned her) had her brow furrowed in concern as she stared at the prosecution. "I haven't seen her make a face like that since..."

Miles glanced at her. "Since... what?"

"...don't worry about it. Focus on the trial here and now, Miles." Mia gave him that mysterious smile that meant she was withholding important information from him. He knew it well. He huffed at her, and she huffed back.

Despite Mia's testimony, von Karma had that same look on her face as Vasquez took the stand the next day, wide eyes flicking between the witness and the defense bench. She was strangely silent, not offering a single protest as Miles proceeded with the cross-examination.

But he couldn't afford to wonder about it. Vasquez was clever and tight-lipped, and his attempts to wring her testimony dry and find something to pin her down were fruitless. She and the judge had both gotten irritated at this point, and when Miles hesitated, scrambling to find some point he hadn't pressed, the latter decided he'd had enough.

Miles cursed inwardly as the judge raised his gavel. Vasquez adjusted the pin of her shawl, self-assured in her victory. This was the end. He was prepared to accept defeat.

He couldn't have possibly prepared for what happened next, however.

"OBJECTION!"

Miles jerked his head up. Beside him, Maya gasped in surprise.

Across the room from him, left arm outstretched in a frantic point, was a frazzled, trembling Sascha von Karma.

She stared blankly at her own hand, as though it had moved of its own volition. Then she jumped - actually jumped - when the judge demanded to know the meaning for the interruption.

"Right! Uh. Um. The reason I objected," she babbled, "is because... uhh..."

It was the least composed Miles had ever seen her. He was bewildered. What did she think she was doing?

"...I don't have a reason," she admitted, shoulders slumping.

"Er..." The judge blinked owlishly at her. "Very well. Now--"

"OBJECTION!"

The poor judge looked as baffled as Miles felt. "Miss von Karma?"

"I... I request that the witness testify again!" she blurted out, digging her fingers into the desk. She looked disheveled, stray hairs having slipped out of her ponytail to poke out at a very odd angle. "I, um... I want to hear about... the, uh..."

Vasquez snarled with impatience. "Why are you badgering me? I'm your witness!"

"I'm inclined to agree!" the judge added. "I see little point in making Ms. Vasquez repeat herself..."

Miles looked at Maya. Maya looked at Miles. What?? Maya mouthed at him. Miles shrugged helplessly.

von Karma floundered. "Uh... yeah... great point... ummmmMMM! I want to-- I wish to hear about the body discovery! What happened after you found it?"

That hadn't occurred to Miles. But what could that possibly reveal? And why was von Karma risking sabotaging her own case by asking after it? She practically had the win in the bag, and after Miles had humiliated her so thoroughly after their last clash in court, she had no reason to let this continue.

What was going on?

⁂

The relief of a not guilty verdict and the butterflies of being in such close proximity to Mr. Powers yet again were a powerful combination that filled Miles's mind with fuzz and forced out any less important thoughts, like von Karma's odd behavior or Maya tugging on his coat.

"M-My! Hey! Miles! Kilometers! Little My!"

"H-Hrm?"

Maya pointed to somewhere behind him. "I, um... I think you're in trouble."

Miles turned, and flinched when he found himself nose to nose with a furious prosecutor.

"You," von Karma snarled, "should not be expecting a repeat performance of today! You're lucky I took pity on you! You got that?!"

Her voice raised to a yell as she spoke, and her burning eyes pinned Miles where he stood. He leaned away, but she just leaned forward.

"Don't you dare be expecting a shred of mercy from me from now on! You may be the son of that loathsome excuse of a defense attorney, and the favorite of that voluptuous wretch--"

Now, Miles was not going to sit there and take that. "You should never speak ill of the dead, Miss von Karma," he snapped, straightening his spine and making her flinch away. He met her glare with all the intensity he could muster...

...and then paused.

How curious.

"Wh... What? What is it?" von Karma's hastily plucked brows furrowed as an edge of nervousness worked its way into her voice, and Miles realized he'd spoken aloud.

"Your eyes," he continued hesitantly. They were heterochromatic - one brown, one blue. "They reminded me of someone. An old friend."

von Karma inexplicably blanched. She looked distant for a moment, and her left hand dug into her right side, just below her ribcage. "You... wh..."

Then she shook herself, and that boiling anger was back full force. "Why are you getting all nostalgic on me, you-- ugh! You listen closely, Ed... E-Edge..."

Again, she went pale, looking ill. Miles was starting to worry after her health at this point, despite the fact he was in the middle of being screamed at. "Er..."

"You... you listen closely, Worthless!" She thrusted a finger up towards him, nearly jamming it up his nose with how close she was. "These eyes... you'll see them and know nothing but despair once we meet again, you hear me?! I'm going to crush you, and I'm going to enjoy it!"

Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and stomped off, seething.

Maya coughed weakly. "Uh. Wow. What was that all about?"

Miles stared after Sascha von Karma, his gut clenching with inexplicable grief. "I have no earthly idea."

⁂

You failed again.

You can't even blame him this time.

This is all your fault.

Victory was within your grasp.

All that matters to a von Karma is perfection.

And yet you gave him an opening.

A von Karma should be swift and merciless.

You're weak. He's gotten into your head. You can't stop thinking about him.

Even his name makes you sick.

Miles Edgeworth...

...

...why does it feel like you're forgetting something?

#ace attorney #roleswap au #turnabout transition #long post #collab writes #collab draws #collab doodles #miles edgeworth #maya fey #mia fey #phoenix wright #dee vasquez #the judge #raymond shields #misgendering #misgendering tw

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aeondeug · 3 years

Text

So As Yet Unsent did a number on me and got me to love Judith. It also left me wanting to write something for the research she did before going to proposition Marta. And so here is that something! A series of three narrative poems about Judith gradually working up the nerve to ask Marta:

The first time you read one You had been walking through the halls To find and spy an excited gaggle Gathered around and whispering On just how hard it had been for Them to sneak this into the shipments. Those composed there heard you step, One shooting upright with a salute While another swore and asked Just what was up only to look right And see you standing there Spine erect, face grim and firm. He blanched at the sight seen And lost the words in his throat And all his years of training too Until you reminded him of them. Each head there rose one by one, Hands folded behind their back neatly, And you did not even interrogate them But instead demanded outright and bald For whatever contraband they’d snuck in To be handed over to you now Before more serious measures be taken. One made a comment, an argument, Saying there was none to be found And that he was quite confused as to why You’d even think to ask them of that. You asked him if he thought you stupid, To which he answered “No, sir”, smartly, To which you said you thought him stupid. Very. A smart one meanwhile pushed out her hands To reveal a book with a silly title And an even sillier cover, A truly stupid prize to sneak through customs. You frowned and thought to yourself How a kinder officer would let it slide, But you were the image of the Second House And with it the image of the Cohort, There could be no quarter given, So you snatched the book from those hands Barely giving it or her a glance. Then you ordered them off on a run With a note that you’d be going up And informing their superiors in due time. Later that night, such as they’re counted Up in the dead expanse of the stars, You looked down at the book Which sat with a stack of flimsies on your desk Ready to be sent off and be disposed of. It wasn’t the first romance you’d seen Of this very specific subject matter, But it was the first you’d held admittedly. You looked over its cover again With its handsome, strapping cavalier Whose coat was not to code, collar open, And in whose arms lay a shrinking adept, Eyes closed serenely, lips lightly parted. You sneered at the thing and thought Of how it and the flimises would be off soon, Heading further down the bureaucratic chain. But instead of grabbing them each and all To be carried off and away as needed, You picked up the book with a scoff And you opened it to a random page To give it a slight read before it burned. The dialogue was atrocious, first off, And the narration lingered too long, Being overly fond of outfits and lamps and more. It was a horrible book in truth, But you turned to its first page feeling bored And set to reading it right through that night. There hadn’t been a new book in weeks, And you were just growing so tired Of the stack of ones already read. This is what you told yourself that night As you read through the whole tome Until eventually you were through it all And its whole sordid tale Of a cavalier and their necromancer. It was the first you’d read.

The second time you read one You actually read a set of three together. They were from three authors And from three subgenres, Sharing only one thing in common: A love between a cav and their adept. These books you’d gathered for yourself Based off the writings you’d seen In book magazines on your off days And based off the talk you’d heard Among others in the cafeteria. It was something of a pain, it was, Paying off person after person again In search of these three particular books While leaving behind you a trail Too confounding to be traced to you. For should you be found out about You’d be called a hypocrite by your men, And soon the word would spread around About Judith Deuteros’ unseemly interests. Thankfully your years of tearing apart smuggling rings Had taught you well how to travel and talk, So you felt yourself quite safe As you gathered up your secret finds. Yet safety had or no, you hid them carefully And you moved through each slowly, Fearing every last noise you heard reading Was someone noticing your newfound habit. These books weren’t much better than the first, Is what you told yourself those days After having read through them each. As the dialogue was still off in all three, And the one loved adverbs far, far too much, And you only needed see one love triangle To know you never wanted to see another. And of the whole lot you felt the worst Was the one about the Cohort pair, For nothing was accurate in the least, And everyone would be court martialed At least nine times over, God willing. That was assuming the pair ever left training, Which you thought was very doubtful. Yet in the nights after reading it When you had disposed of them each and all, It was that Cohort book you thought of And neither of the other two, Though they were slightly less awful. The cavalier was nothing like Marta. They were overbold and cared not for order. At the best you’d called them a fool, But for all your unkind words to the cav You had far colder ones for the adept, In whom you saw none of yourself. Yet as you lay in bed one night You thought of one moment halfway in the book Where the adept had cornered their cav, Pressing them to a wall before a mission That was sure to kill them both at last. You’d thought of how the cav rebuffed them And how you thought that very proper, But the adept had pressed on And refused to back away or let up As they asked one very important question: They ask you and expect you to die for me, But they tell me I can’t feel a thing for you? Why is that the case? How is that fair? There was an argument after those words, Which was smoothed over by a kiss, Sudden and fierce, which saved The cav from having to answer that “Why?” You told yourself this was stupid. You told yourself you hated it. Yet you thought to yourself at night On those missions now past Where you’d seen Marta glorious And you’d seen her vulnerable too. You thought of all the talks you had Just the two of your together And the ease at which they flowed, As with no other person you knew. You thought of esprit de corps and how, Though you felt connected to your fellows More than with any civilian you had ever known, That there was a connection unique to her. There was a bond between the two of you Tighter than any other you held, And they asked her to die for you While demanding you feel nothing on that. Why?

The third time you read oneIt wasn’t a novel you read, really,As the book was one part essay, one part storyAnd most of all it was a treatise and memoire.This one you’d found while perusing throughThe Sixth House’s vast libraries duringA very rare Sixth House ballWhich you found even more dull thanAll the other balls you’d gone to,Be they of the Third or of the Fifth.So as the Sixth took to the their booksOver the drinking and the dancing,So did you set to your own researches.Normally at one of these events,You would stand with Marta together,Back erect, face grim and firm,Rebuffing the attempts of those about youTo get you to dance or to laugh or whatever else,And the Third’s princess was always the hardestFor you to shake off, for private reasons.But Coronabeth was not here, thank God,And this was no Third House ball but a Sixth one,Which left you with this one and only chanceTo search through their vast storesOf knowledge you thought unworthy of preservation.Your search was a secretive oneOf which you didn’t even tell Marta,Having left her side saying onlyThat you were going to the bathroom,And adding that she was free to enjoy the festivities.To which she laughed a bit,Because what festivities were there here?You smiled and told her to seek outAnother who loved those same books thatThe two of you had first bonded over.So you had left her to go and lookFor books on the subject of thatMost great and mighty of taboos,Of which you dared not say word to Marta of.The search was seemingly fruitless.At first because certain libraries hereWere off limits to the party guests,Then next because the one you’d found hadOnly an endless treasure troveOf mystery novels spanning centuries on,Till at last you had to admit to yourselfThat the Sixth’s knowledge hoards hadA scheme that not even you could navigate alone.So, nervously, you stepped up to a SixthWith her nose buried in a bookAnd you asked her outright, bald,Trying your best to seem nonchalant,If the Sixth held any books at allOn the matter of necros and cavs joined together,Not just by tradition, but by romance.She raised a brow at you standing there,The proper daughter of the fleet admiral,Asking for books on a most improper topic,But when she saw you budge not one bitShe shrugged her shoulders and led you offTo a part of the library you’d passed six times before.As you waited and watched, heart pounding,She pulled forth a book with a cover, nondescript.She handed it to you saying lazilyTo leave it on one of the carts when you finished.You thanked her formally and hoped thatNeither your face nor your step saidAnything about your mood or your intent.You were scared, to be truthful.More scared than you ever had beenIn the bustle of open combat,Because at least battle you understoodAnd because however it was you died on the fieldYour father would stand up and would sayOf you, his daughter, that never hadThere been a more proper Second toHave ever graced these Nine Houses.That you were a Second House heir so properThat a woman with a career so promisingAs the most esteemed Marta Dyas Had put aside those far off starsTo take her cavalier vows for life,Binding you as necro and cav.Between freedom and glory afar,She had picked you above them bothWhen you had only girlish hopesThat even your father told youWere far too high and likely to fail.So as you read that book thereHidden in a Sixth House nookYou were more scared than ever before,Because you were looking for an answerTo an argument you had with yourselfOver whether there was any chance at allFor you and your girlish hopes.What you found was not what you wanted,As the author went on and on about thingsThat were tangential at best to what you sought.You read about her overbearing father andYou read about her merciless DI andYou read about a friend you thought the cavUntil said friend died without one whisperOf those four words that haunted youBecause they held you back from a more wanted three.It took you a good hour to get to it,And that came with some skimmingThrough page after page about things you cared not for,But you finally found it tucked awayIn the middle of that book: an essay on necros and cavs.The essay spanned only four pages longAnd it did not go into much detailAbout the relationship between the twoIn a personal and intimate sense.Instead she spoke primarily of herselfAnd of her ever growing shameAnd of her ever expanding list of questionsOn whether the arguments in praise of that shameHeld any weight to them at all.She spoke too of how setting love aside,Trying to pretend she felt none of it,Had done her no good at all.It had led to an argument, in fact,Between her and her cavalierWho could not understand whyShe had been so cagey all the timeWhen before she’d been so open, so free.This was the most you ever got to seeOf the cavalier herself beyondThat she too was a Cohort woman.You read and you read and you readBefore rereading the whole thing againTrying to tell yourself it was stupidAnd that the author was stupid too.You shut the book in disgust, sneering,And you dropped it off in a cart sayingHow you couldn’t see how the SixthCould think this thing worth preserving.Then you went back to find MartaWho asked you where you’d beenTo which you said you’d been accostedBy the Sixth House bookworms askingWhat you had most recently read,At which she laughed and said “Vicious aren’t they?”You smiled and agreed and said nothing more.And six weeks later you lay in bedThinking to yourself on that essayAnd the arguments held within it.Six weeks later you told yourselfThat perhaps it might be okay, after all,And that the very next day you’d sayTo Marta that you felt something more.

#the locked tomb #gideon the ninth #judith deuteros #marta dyas

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twinkleton · 4 years

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at the end of the century - douxie x reader

Whew, this was a douzy to write! I'm so sorry about the wait, maybe it's length will make up for it! This is part two to my last fic, so be sure to give the first part a read if ya haven't! I wanted to include a familiar for the reader, but it just didn't make sense for the story. I'll happily write another fic that has a reader with one if anyone would like! Also, to avoid confusion, this takes place during the "first" battle at killahead. No time travel going on yet, obviously it's changed to where Douxie is involved in the fight. Hope you guys like it!

Tags: @purplesinnerw @clarencebells

As per usual for Camelot, its streets were bustling with its citizens up bright and early for morning shopping. Traders were bartering their newfound treasures, and parents were buying food and supply for their families. For Y/N however, she was neither a trader or a member of a family. She had nothing, except her magic. Of course she felt terrible tricking people into looking the other way while she grabbed onto a loaf of bread or an extra shirt she’d need, but in order to survive it’s what she had to do. After a while, the guilt can subside. She’d rather be doing this than have to rely on anyone ever again.

Still, as she leaned back against a wall, taking a bite out an apple she’d taken earlier, she couldn’t help but feel jealous at the sight of a little girl on top of her father’s shoulders, laughing along with her mother without a care in the world. She’d argued it was because of having to look at someone so privileged, but really it was because of having to look at someone so loved.

---------

Three years later,

Tensions had reached their peak between Morgana and King Arthur, and a war was about to begin against Gunmar and his army of Gumm-Gumms. Morgana had had enough of his mistreatment of magical creatures, therefore her loyalty to him was hanging by a thread. It didn’t seem enough that Arthur seeked help from the trolls of Dyoza, as she believed he only saw them as pawns.

Back in Merlin’s study, him, Douxie, and Archie were discussing how to prepare for the upcoming battle, more specifically, what to do about Y/N.

“No, we are not leaving her here!” Douxie shouts at Merlin. Archie gives him a concerned look.

“Douxie…” he says, trying to calm his friend.

“No, Y/N has never given us any reason to doubt her. How could you suggest such an idea as to lock her up until the battle is over? What has she ever done to deserve that?!”

“Hisirdoux, this is not about what she has done, but she potentially could do. We know how close she is to Morgana, and Morgana will say or do anything to persuade her to be on her side. With Y/N she has an advantage, an extra card in her deck. Keeping her here is only a precaution. It’s a way to keep Y/N safe and to keep Morgana from being stronger,” Merlin explains.

Douxie isn’t convinced by that. He knows Y/N. He knows that she would not want to be stuck here while the rest of them go off and risk their lives for Camelot. And if Morgana sees her on their side, maybe Y/N could be the one to convince her to stop.

“Clearly you’ve forgotten that she was the one that stopped me from bringing dark shadows into Camelot. Ever since she’s been here she’s done nothing except be the kindest and most understanding out of all of us. There’s nothing Morgana could say or do that would convince her to go against that.”

“I’m with Douxie,” Archie agrees. “Surely Merlin, you can have a little more faith in the girl. And with her training from Morgana, she could be our biggest asset against her and Gunmar.”

Douxie gives him a scratch behind the ear, silently thanking him. Archie beams at him.

Merlin gives a sigh in defeat, not willing to argue anymore about the subject. “Alright, we won’t keep her here. However, should she side with Morgana, I fear her safety will be gravely-”

“What are the three of you up to?” As if summoned by them talking about her, Y/N walks in.

All three of them stop in their tracks, faces blanched.

Douxie decides to sacrifice himself in explaining. “N-nothing Y/N! We were just uh..trying to calm down Archie! You know him, always been a scaredy-cat,” he nervously chuckles, picking up Archie and frantically petting him. Archie’s face screams unenthused.

“Ah yes, frightened I am.”

Y/N giggles at the absurdity going on. She walks over to Douxie, saving Archie from him. He relaxes in her arms, belly exposed for Y/N to give light scritches.

“Aw, it’s alright, Arch. I’ll make sure nothing bad happens to you, okay?” she playfully reassures. Despite obviously not needing the comfort, Archie purrs at that. Much like everyone she’s come across since being here, Archie full-heartedly loved her.

Merlin takes the opportunity to leave the room. “I must go. There’s still much to be done before the battle.” He stops at the door, turning to look at Y/N. “We all trust you, Y/N. Please, don’t let that be a mistake.”

She understands what he meant by that, and stays silent. Merlin takes his leave.

Douxie glares at where Merlin was standing moments ago. “Don’t listen to him. We know you’d make the right call with Morgana.”

Y/N lets Archie out of her arms, the familiar jumping onto the table. “I don’t know what to do. Morgana is adamant that Arthur will never see through his hatred with magickind.”

“Don’t you see Y/N? This is the only way to stop my brother and his tyranny.” Morgana had been hiding away, deep in the forest. The only person she trusted with her location was Y/N, on the condition that she swore not to reveal it to anyone else, or else their lives would be the first one targeted in the upcoming war. Y/N agreed to the terms.

“And you honestly believe Camelot or the world even would be safer with someone like Gunmar? Once he defeats Arthur, there would be nothing to stop him from conquering everyone, including you. The world would be in shambles,” Y/N insists. It pained her heart arguing against Morgana, the first person in the longest time she’d felt safe with. It wasn’t easy for Morgana either.

“What have I been trying to tell you from the moment you set foot in that castle? Arthur fears us, he fears Gunmar, me, and you. Magic is nothing to be afraid of. You’ve seen the wondrous things magic can do.”

“And I’ve also witnessed the horrible things it’s capable of. I know magic can be good, but people like Gunmar have to be stopped. Please Morgana, you can still do the right thing,” Y/N pleads.

Morgana turns her back on her apprentice, beginning to walk away. “The same could be said for you, my dear.”

Despite her best efforts, Y/N can’t stop a tear from falling out of her eye. Douxie immediately walks over to comfort her, wrapping his arms around her.

“I’m afraid, Doux,” she admits, grabbing onto the front of his tunic. “I spent years not trusting anyone, fending for myself, and the whole time I was so lonely.” Soft whimpers could be heard coming from her.

Douxie begins softly petting the back of her head, patiently waiting for her to continue.

“Morgana was the one who saved me from that life, who gave me hope. She felt like the mother I never had.”

She slightly pulls away from Douxie, wanting to look at him. Looking into her grief-stricken eyes made Douxie almost want to agree to Merlin’s plan of keeping her here, just so she wouldn’t have to face Morgana. He knows she wouldn’t want to do that however.

“What if she’s gone after this? Will I be left all alone again?” Deep down she knows she wouldn’t be alone, but her paranoia was telling her other things.

“Never,” Douxie assures. He pushes her hair away from her face, pressing his hands against her cheeks. “I promise, darling. You will never feel alone ever again,” he swears. Y/N’s fears melt away with his words, her eyes refusing to leave his. They didn’t notice how close they had gotten until Archie interrupted. He hops onto Douxie’s shoulders, causing him to let go of Y/N in order to regain his balance. He lets out a huff of annoyance, with Archie giving him a cheeky smile.

“Don’t worry dear Y/N. No matter what happens, Doux and I will always be here for you.” She smiles at that, giving Archie a loving pat on his head.

“Thank you, Archie,” she says, looking back at Douxie to grin at him, implying that their moment wasn’t finished. Douxie gets the hint.

--------

Deya slams her amulet into the bridge, opening up the portal to seal away Gunmar and his army. Y/N had stayed with the trolls of Dyoza to help them against the Gumm-Gumms, leaving Merlin, Douxie, and Archie to defeat Morgana.

The fight had gone too long for Merlin who was injured, weakening his magic. Archie had been knocked out earlier by a strong blow from Morgana. Douxie was holding his own despite Morgana being far stronger than him, however it didn’t last long.

Pushing her hands away from her, a huge burst of dark wind cascaded the arena they were in, leaving Douxie and Merlin blind. Morgana seized the opportunity to trap them, tying them up in rope created by her magic. They struggled against them, but there was no use. Morgana started cackling with glee, believing she bested them.

“You fools! You should’ve known better than to go against me. You wasted your lives trying to protect my cowardly brother, and now all your squabbling will be for nothing!” Morgana rises into the air and raises her hand, a strong light pulsing from it, no doubt from her charging her final blow against them.

Douxie frantically looks around for any sign of help or weapon to use. Finding nothing, his last resort is to use words.

“Morgana! Think about Y/N! You know she doesn’t want this!” he shouts, desperation clear in his words.

“Don’t act as if you care about what she wants! You only see her as your puppet, another pawn for you to use! She and all magickind will finally be free once all of you are gone!” A final pulse comes from her hand, the light so bright it hurts to even glance at. All hope deferred, Douxie’s final wish was for the truth to be heard.

“You’re wrong! Y/N was the reason I changed for the better! I used to be whiny and immature-”

“Hisirdoux! Now’s not the time for a heart to heart!” Merlin interrupts.

Douxie ignores him, “I used to be bitter about the hand I was given, but Y/N gave me a reason to be grateful for what I had! She’s the brightest out of all of us, and I’m so, so lucky to have met her, befriended her, and fallen in love with her!” A wave of peace fills Douxie, accepting his fate.

His words have left Morgana speechless. Doubt floods her mind, for the first time since this battle began. However, she snaps back into her fury.

“Very well, you can die with a peace of mind. I’ll tell Y/N all about your feelings for her while she grieves over your dead body,” she maliciously answers. She throws her hand down, an enormous beam of light launches from her hand.

Douxie closes his eyes, waiting for the feeling of burning skin to come, but it never does.

“There won’t be any need for that, Morgana!”

He recognizes that voice, and his eyes shoot open. The ground beneath them shakes, as Y/N throws up a shield so large, it sends Morgana’s magic flying all across the other side of the room, most of it hitting Morgana herself. She lets out a cry, falling to the floor.

Y/N sprints over to Merlin and Douxie, freeing them from the ropes.

Douxie gleefully says, “Y/N! You made it! You’re okay- how much of that did you hear?”

Y/N giggles, “Just that last bit. You know, the important bit.”

Douxie lets out an embarrassed chuckle. Archie, having finally woken up, flies over to the couple. “I’d hate to interrupt this lovely reunion, but we do have a ninth-level sorceress to take care of.”

They all turn towards Morgana. “Right, let’s finish this,” Douxie commands.

Douxie and Archie team up, using magic and fire to seal Morgana in a ring of flames. Morgana growls in anger. Y/N puts up shields all around her friends, blocking any of Morgana’s attacks from hitting them. When Morgana shoots her magic at Y/N, Merlin defends her, the bolt ricocheting off his staff and back towards Morgana. Douxie jumps towards Morgana, armed with a sigil designed to freeze her. He successfully reaches her, and the both of them are frozen in the air, except she has no control.

“Hurry! I can’t hold her that long!” Douxie warns.

“You’ve lost yourself Morgana! Bound to dark magic,” Merlin yells, slamming his staff to the ground, a large sigil of his own covering the floor.

“I have no choice but to seal you away!” He begins the spell, balls of light rising from the floor. Morgana is able to swing her staff at Douxie, throwing him across the room. However, before she can move, Y/N replaces Douxie, freezing Morgana once more with an even stronger hold.

“Do it! Finish the spell!” Y/N shouts.

Morgana screams in frustration. “How dare you, Y/N! I am the reason your life has meaning, I’m the reason for everything you hold dear! You’d be nothing if it weren’t for me!”

“I never was nothing! The only thing I used to be was alone! You’ve given me a family, and for that I’m grateful, but now I have to protect that family! And the only way to do that is to get rid of you!” Y/N turns toward Merlin, “Any day now!”

Merlin chants the final line of the spell, and a beam of light expels from his staff, hitting Morgana at her feet, encasing them in stone. The light slowly works its way up her body.

“I will destroy you all! No matter what it takes, no matter where you go, I will not rest until I’ve ended you and all that you love!” Morgana vows, hitting Y/N with a bolt, knocking her down. Douxie sprints and catches her before she hits the floor.

Most of Morgana’s body has been encased, leaving only her torso and head free. “I swear on your lives I shall rise again!”

“And we’ll still be here to stop you once more, buttsnack!” Douxie promises, firmly holding onto Y/N. Once all of her has been frozen, Merlin crosses his arms, finishing the enchantment. Y/N opens up a portal to the Shadow Realm, and Merlin hurls Morgana into it. The last thing heard from Morgana is fearful screaming as Y/N closes the portal.

With the battle finally over, everyone gives a huge sigh of relief, falling to the floor. Archie marches over to Douxie and Y/N, jumping on top of them and licking their faces.

“Arch! That’s disgusting,” Douxie complains with a smile, clearly not meaning it. Y/N hugs Archie, giving him a kiss on the forehead. Douxie beams at the both of them, feeling so content in the moment.

He puts a hand on her shoulder, “Are you alright, love?” Archie hops off of Y/N, deciding to give them a moment alone.

“I’m okay, more than okay really. She was too far gone, there was nothing more we could do,” Y/N answers. “Now, about your little declaration of love there.”

Douxie nervously giggles, “Yeaahhh, about that. Look desperate times call for desperate measures! Had I known you were just going to waltz in anyway, I would’ve waited for a more romantic evening to confess my undying love for you.”

“Uh-huh.”

“There would’ve been flowers, music, little sweet buns iced with our initials toget-”

Y/N cuts off his rambling by grabbing his tunic with one hand, resting the other on his cheek, and pulling his lips towards hers. Their first kiss is a soft one, with Douxie wrapping his arms around her, pulling her even closer. They let each other go, feeling the sudden urge to laugh at one another for their impeccable timing.

“I love you too, Douxie. More than anything,” Y/N confesses.

Douxie grabs her face and pulls her into another kiss, convinced this is the happiest moment of his life.

Eventually, they remember they’re not alone. They look around to see Merlin passed out on the floor.

“Merlin!” they both shout, running over to him. Archie apparently had been trying to wake them up, waiting for their moment to be over in order to tell them.

“Why didn’t you tell us he’d passed out?!” Douxie scolds.

Archie waves his paws in defense. “Pardon me, you know I’m all for happy endings. I just didn’t want to be the one to tell you it’s not over yet.” Douxie lets out a groan, slamming his hand to his forehead.

“When do you think he’ll wake up?” Y/N asks.

“Hopefully, soon,” Douxie answers, doubtfully.

--------

Nine centuries later,

“FUZZBUCKETS!” Douxie screams in the air, being dragged along by a mephit he, Y/N, and Archie were trying to catch.

“Don’t let go of it!” Y/N shouts, trying to sprint ahead of the creature.

“Ah yes dear, that was the plan all along! To free this poor tortured beast!” he yells sarcastically, before slamming into the ground for the fifth time that night.

“You know it was your sense of humor I fell in love with first!” she quips. She opens up a portal on the floor and jumps into it, opening up another one right in front of the mephit. She draws up a sigil that the mephit bounces off of, knocking him down.

“Ah well, luckily for you I’m quite the jester!” Douxie jokes.

Archie swoops in and blows fire at the mephit, fatally wounding it. Douxie is then able to cast the creature away. They all let out shouts of victory, Y/N giving each of them a high five.

“You know, one of these days you two will be the death of me. Maybe don’t start flirting with each other until you’re absolutely certain you’ve caught the shadow mephit,” Archie chides.

Y/N scratches behind Archie’s ear as a way of apology. “I’m so sorry dear husband over there insists on putting his hands on me at every available opportunity. He’s quite the scoundrel,” Y/N teases.

Douxie scoffs at that remark, pretending to be offended. “Pardon me, dear wife. But if I recall correctly it was you who-” He doesn’t finish his sentence as he’s distracted by the lights suddenly flickering and then bursting.

“Hisirdoux,” a voice calls out.

“Is that…?” Y/N questions, looking around.

“I think it is…. Merlin!” Douxie grins in excitement, happy to know his master is finally awake.

A green sigil lights up from underneath Douxie, making him jump back. Merlin rises up from it, except it’s only a projection of him.

“Hisirdoux, my faithful apprentice-”

“You darn right I’ve been faithful. Who leaves a guy hanging for almost a millennium? You could’ve sent a raven, or a text! There’s texting you know!” Douxie whines.

“It’s so good to see you, Merlin,” Y/N says with a smile, giving him a bow.

Merlin smiles back, “Lovely to see you too, dear Y/N. I see Hisirdoux hasn’t tormented you enough to run to the hills yet.”

Y/N laughs, standing back up, “Actually, he’s done quite the opposite.” She raises her left hand, showing off the ring on her finger. Douxie wraps an arm around her shoulders, eyes staring lovingly at her. Merlin beams at the both of them, glad that they’ve had each other all the years.

“Congratulations, you two,” Merlin proudly says.

“Thanks, Master,” Douxie responds gratefully. The last nine hundred have been wonderful with her and Archie at his side.

Merlin clears his throat, “I’ve come here to task you all with a mission. You must bring the Guardians of Arcadia, with haste.” The projection of him fades away, leaving the three of them alone.

“Errand boys once again, aren’t we?” Archie complains. Douxie lets out a sigh.

“Don’t think of it as an errand, think of it as another adventure,” Y/N suggests, wrapping her left arm around Douxie and letting Archie climb on top of her shoulders. “It’ll be fun! You’ll see.”

Douxie chuckles, and brings his left hand to her head, pulling it closer to him to press a light kiss against her forehead. “With you, my love, anything’s an adventure.”

--------

Bonus,

“Wait, so the two of you are wizards?! Not just baristas at the cafe?!” Toby questions.

“Yup!” Y/N replies.

“And you’ve been living for nine hundred years?!”

“Yup!”

Steve gives Y/N a quick up/down glance, “Well, you certainly don’t look it.”

Douxie glares at him, “Careful, she’s married.”

Steve raises his hands in defense, “I’m just saying! Wait, to you?”

“Yes!” Douxie barks at him.

“Today’s actually our eight hundred and ninety-sixth anniversary,” Y/N informs them with a smile.

“And you’re spending it here? Wow Doux, you suck at romance.” Toby criticizes.

Douxie scoffs, “Alright, you go celebrate eight hundred and ninety-five anniversaries and report back to me!”

Y/N lets out a giggle, “Maybe that’s enough questions for now.”

#douxie imagine #hisirdoux x reader #hisirdoux casperan #douxie #toa douxie #douxie casperan #tales of arcadia #trollhunters #wizards #douxie x reader #hisirdoux casperan x reader

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avengerscompound · 4 years

Text

Running to a Standstill - 10

Running to a Standstill: A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count: 1882

Rating: E

Warnings: nothing much

Synopsis: While on the run from an unknown organization trying to take your son, you meet two super-soldiers. While they try to help you get to the bottom of who is hunting you and your son, feelings come out and admissions are made that make your personal life even more tricky.

Chapter 10

It wasn’t until the following day that Steve and the other’s finally returned from their mission. Bucky couldn’t remember ever feeling so excited before.

He was apprehensive and scared, but those emotions were the ones that he often felt the most to the point that they’d become dulled. Like a drug addict who needed more and more heroin to feel high, it took a big bad before he truly felt fear. Excitement though? Excitement was rare and it gave him a high that kept him running until he got word that the Quin was coming into land.

He had no idea what Steve would do. There were options that could be good or bad and Steve would be well in his right to pick any of them in the pursuit of his own happiness. But that unknown was almost adding to the excitement. As was the potential that this could actually lead to something good for him. That he might actually get to have some love and intimacy, even if he didn’t quite think he deserved it yet. Just the thought of Steve’s lips on his, or your hands raking through his hair made him shiver and his cock twitch. He thought if it actually happened he might just explode.

He went up to the landing pad in time to catch Steve and the other’s disembarking. He approached Steve with Hill, and he immediately went into debriefing mode. “We found a supply of the drug there,” Steve said, handing a little baggy over to Hill without breaking his pace. “Have it analyzed. The guy who sold it to Clint said it can give you powers but how they express varies. He also said you needed to take them in order. Red pill to get the powers, blue to turn them off. Apparently, if you don’t take the blue you can go into cardiac arrest and your lungs stop working.”

“And people are taking these as what? Recreation? Fight club?” Hill asked as the group got on the elevator.

“From what I gleaned off people it’s a mixture. Having powers gives people a high. I can attest to that from when I was given mine when they first kick in it’s like all your synapsis start firing at once,” Wanda said. “But there are underground groups where people take them and then fight each other. There’s even an enhanced prostitution racket happening.”

The elevator stopped and opened up onto the armory. Steve, Clint, Sam, and Natasha all started putting their weapons and armor back into its place. Steve began to strip off parts of his suit and handing them back in his locker. “Thank you, Wanda,” he said to the young woman who was standing back trying not to watch as everyone stripped off in front of her. “Go get some rest and food. We’ll debrief this afternoon.”

“Thank you, Steve,” she said and headed back to the elevator.

“Do we know the source?” Hill asked as Sam, Natasha, and Clint headed into the showers.

“Take a look at the pills,” Steve said.

Hill picked up the baggy and turned the pills around in the bag. Bucky looked over her shoulder and saw the small image of the skull with tentacles coming out of it. “So it is HYDRA?” He said.

“Well, we can’t say for sure,” Steve said, gesturing back to the elevator. “Wanda didn’t pick anything up from the sellers indicating they were HYDRA. So it could just be someone thinking that packaging it like that will make it more exciting to buyers,” he explained as he, Bucky, and Hill got onto the elevator. “But it’s a potential lead. The problem is from what Wanda and Clint came back with was either a mass group conspiracy that the government of Madripoor is supplying the drugs to the citizens or more concerning, that is what’s actually happening.”

“So we need to send in some undercover operatives?” Hill asked.

“Absolutely,” Steve said. “Honestly it was my mistake to not have started with that. So if you could select some agents to do a deep cover operation, and get that to the lab, Hill. I just need to shower and get something to eat and I’ll meet in my office in an hour.”

“You’ve got it, Cap,” Hill said as the elevator stopped.

Bucky followed Steve out and down to the hall. “I know you want an answer, Buck,” Steve said. “I want to talk to both of you.”

Bucky rarely had any trouble hiding his emotions, but right now he was buzzing. “We wanted to talk to you too.”

Steve glanced at Bucky through the side of his eye and unlocked his door. You were inside at the table eating a sandwich while Geo seemed to be wearing most of a can of Spaghettios. You looked over when they stepped inside and Geo bounced in his seat. “Steeb!” He cheered and scrambled off running over and holding his hands up. You got up and seemed to move forward and then backed up, eventually settling on going into the kitchen.

“Hey, Geo,” Steve said, hesitating a little before picking the little boy up. “You’re very messy.”

“Sorry,” you said. “He likes to try and put the bits of spaghetti on his fingers. Can I get you anything? You must be hungry.”

“It’s alright,” Steve said. “Sit. I can get myself something.”

You hesitated again before going and taking your seat. “How did it go? Did you find anything?”

“Yes and no,” Steve said, putting Geo back in his chair and kissing leaning down to kiss your cheek. “We’ve got a trail. We’re going to need to put some undercover operatives on it.”

You nodded and your eyes flicked to Bucky. Bucky gave a nod and as Steve went into the kitchen you let out a breath. “Steve,” you said, a slight tremble to your voice. “I know you ran off yesterday because you didn’t want to confront either of us. That you had a choice to make and it was hurting you to make it.”

“About that,” Steve said as he pulled out some ingredients for a sandwich. “I know that was a really horrible thing to do. I’m sorry. I just needed time to think and I should have spoken to you both first.” He looked over at Bucky. “You want a sandwich?”

“Thanks,” Bucky said. His heart was hammering and he was glad you were taking the lead, because he had no idea how to bring up. It was hard enough admitting he was in love with Steve in the first place.

“We were talking…” you said. “When you were away…”

“Yeah?” Steve asked. “I know you both must be angry with me, and you’re in your right. But if you can just hear me out…”

“Steve,” Bucky said. “Can you let us go first?”

Steve seemed to blanch, and Bucky could just picture the kinds of things that must be going through his head. Top of them was probably that you’d both decided you didn’t want him anymore. Bucky wanted to let Steve speak, just so he wouldn’t panic but if he did and he made a choice it would be too late. That would be it. He would have made his call about which person he liked more and the other would always feel like they were playing catch up.

“Right,” Steve said, standing frozen in place. “Sure.”

“How would you feel about… dating both of us?” You said, your face scrunching up as you spoke. “You know... polyamory?”

Steve started at the two of you with his jaw dropped. Geo started opening and closing his hands as he held them over his head and you got up without thinking and started to use some wipes to clean him up. Bucky felt as frozen as Steve was. He should have known better. Steve was a traditional guy. This was never going to work for him. Why Bucky even thought for one second he might…

Slowly Steve started laughing. It was quiet at first and it just got louder and louder. Bucky blinked at him in shock. “What’s so funny?” Bucky said.

“That was what I was going to say,” Steve said.

“You what?” Bucky asked.

Steve wiped a tear from his eye and went back to making sandwiches. “I swear to god, Buck,” Steve said. “Natasha bailed me up on the mission and made me tell her what was bothering me and she said that there was no reason why I had to be monogamous if there were two people who loved me if those two people loved each other. And you do right? I’ve seen it.”

“Yeah, Steve,” Bucky agreed. “We do.”

“So,” you said, standing up with Geo on your hip. “We’re going to actually do this?”

Steve nodded. “I guess we have … boundaries we need to discuss but … yeah. If you both want that, and I want it… what’s stopping us.”

You took Geo over to the couch and turned the TV on for him, putting on some cartoons before returning to the kitchen. Steve pulled you close to him and hugged you tightly. “I don’t think there’s anything stopping us,” you said, hugging him back. “I have spent so long now living in fear and not letting myself be happy. I’m gonna take it.”

Steve sighed and closed his eyes, breathing you in as he held you. Bucky stood watching, knowing that he was now part of this, and if he could just will his legs to move, he could be part of it too. Steve would draw him in close and the three of you would be hugging. Instead, he just watched like an outsider.

You slowly pulled back and looked up into Steve’s eyes. He smiled down at you and caressed your cheek with his thumb. “Okay. I really need to eat and shower and we can talk a little now, but I have to get back and sign some paperwork, plus we still have to do the debrief. But how about we ask Tony and Pepper if they’d like to babysit and I take the two of you out tonight. You know he loves having Geo around.”

“I think that sounds really good,” you agreed. “But first, I think there might be a kiss that’s been 70 years in the making.”

Steve looked over to Bucky and held out his hand as you stepped back from him. “What do you say, Buck? Think it’s time we actually act for a change.”

Bucky approached Steve slowly, his heart hammering in his chest. When he was close enough, Steve took his right hand and pulled him close. Bucky leaned in a little. He hadn’t kissed anyone since before he fell from that train. The fact his first kiss was going to be Steve - his Steve - was terrifying and exciting all at once. It was going to change everything between them. Steve bridged the difference, and Bucky didn’t close his eyes until the last second, afraid that Steve would change his mind and he’d just be left hanging like an idiot.

Bucky closed his eyes and the soft press of Steve’s lips touched on his, Bucky hummed and relaxed into the change.

// NEXT

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #captain america #the winter soldier #steve roger x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #steve rogers x bucky barnes #stucky #stucky x reader #captain america fanfic #the winter solder fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #running to a standstill

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worldwidemochiguy · 4 years

Text

Expecting (Yandere! Hoseok)

➵ When you found out you were pregnant, you were shocked to say the least. How could this happen? You were on birth control, or so you thought. What shocked you the most, however, was your boyfriend’s reaction...

➵ Pairing: Yandere! Hobi x Reader

➵ Warnings: Yandere Hoseok, Slight Violence, Forced Pregnancy, Manipulation, Unhealthy Relationships

➵ Word Count: 2K

➵ Masterlist :)

The cashier grinned at you excitedly as she scanned the pregnancy test, an expression you could only respond to with a repressed grimace.

“So, what are you hoping for?” She chirped, clearly thinking you were excited about this development in your personal life.

“Huh?

“Boy or girl?” You looked down at your fingers, toying with your (Hoseok’s) credit card awkwardly, avoiding the probing questions. The cashier seemed to realise your lack of enthusiasm a moment too late. You felt her gaze rest incriminatingly on your empty left hand.

She silently scanned the rest of your items: a chocolate bar and a tube of toothpaste you had grabbed just so that the single purchase wasn’t too conspicuous. You tried not to feel too judged. Tried, and failed.

The shame pressed heavily on you as you trudged home, incriminating bag weighing down your steps. Realistically, you knew you had no reason to be ashamed. The whole idea of having to be married before having kids was antiquated, and anyway you were in a stable, loving relationship with your boyfriend.

You wished you had just bit the bullet and bought two pregnancy tests as soon as you realised you had missed your period. You had been so scared and willingly stubborn, refusing to buy more than one as if buying multiple would be an admittance that you were pregnant.

But after receiving one positive result, you had forced yourself to return to the store and buy another, resulting in that mortifying encounter with that cashier. It wasn’t like you were likely to ever see her again but… you couldn’t get her judgemental gaze out of your mind.

You imagined that gaze mirrored in your friends’ eyes, in your families eyes, in strangers eyes as they watched you carry an illegitimate child in your womb. You just didn’t understand. You had been so careful.

You always made sure to take your birth control pills each morning. Every morning. If you ever forgot, you made sure you didn’t have sex for at least a week, despite Hoseok’s fervent complaints. You had even tried to get your boyfriend to wear condoms as another layer of protection, but he had flat-out refused, stating that he wanted to be able to feel you properly.

You wrung your hands together, steps quickening as another wave of anxiety flooded your system. Hoseok. What would he say about it? Would he blame you? It must have been your fault after all, you must have somehow taken your birth control incorrectly. What if he left you? What if he abandoned you and your friends left you and your family left you and everyone-

“Sunshine!”

Strong arms surrounded you and pulled you into a warm chest. Your boyfriend’s joyous face beamed down at you as you tried to gain your bearings, panic still lingering unpleasantly in your system.

“I saw your note saying you had left for the store and decided to come and see if you needed any help with your bags. It’s lucky I caught you in front of our building, huh?”

You looked around and realised that you had made it all the way back to your apartment building without even realising it. While you were distracted, Hoseok took your bag.

“Let me carry that for you, sunshine. Can’t have my baby carrying things for herself!”

You gave him a strangled smile, not contradicting him because you didn’t want him to notice what, exactly, he was carrying. Your previous worries were still shouting over each other in your head.

You panicked silently as Hoseok led you back to the apartment, dumping the bag on the counter. After that, unexpectedly, he stopped right in front of you and turned, causing you to bump into his front.

“Careful, sunshine.” Hoseok chided you fondly, arms coming up to support you as you stumbled. “You have to be even more careful of your safety now, remember?”

“Aha, yes, of course- wait, what?” Your eyes widened as Hoseok gave you a knowing smile. Surely, there’s no way he could have realised… right?

“I found the test in the trash, baby.”

Your heart stopped.

“You know we share a bathroom, right? Literally all I had to do was look down.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, the words muffled as you buried your face in your hands. You heard an incredulous laugh, and a second later his arms were wrapped around you once again.

“What are you sorry for? Sunshine, this is a blessing.” You stiffened in his arms out of shock. What? He was actually happy about it? That was some relief, at least.

“It is?”

“Are you kidding me? Of course it is!” He crowed, twirling you around so unexpectedly that you couldn’t help but laugh along with him. “It’ll be the family we always wanted! The one we’ve been trying for!”

The euphoria of knowing you had your boyfriend’s support distracted you for a second, stopping his words from sinking in. But, after a moment, you paused.

“What do you mean, Hoseok? We haven’t been trying for a family? I take birth control…” You trailed off at the sight of his guilty smile. A horrible realisation seeped into the pit of your stomach.

“Hobi…?” Your voice was uncertain, but Hoseok didn’t seem to realise your discomfort, or if he did, he didn’t really care.

“You know how much I love kids, sunshine. And you know how much I love you, I just… I want us to be a family.”

“W-What did you do?” You stammered, and he twirled his fingers nervously.

“I… might have… switched your birth control tablets?”

Oh God.

“We’ve been dating for four months!” You yelled at him, and he blanched. “I only just moved in with you, and you decide you can control what I do with my body?”

“Don’t say it like that, sunshine!” Hoseok implored, moving towards you with arms outspread even as you backed away.

“We may have only started dating recently, but I know you’re the one for me. Why wait to start the rest of our lives?”

“You’re a psychopath.” You breathed, moving away from him until your back was pressed against the wall. Hoseok hovered in front of you, clearly not knowing what else to say. “I can’t believe you fucking switched my birth control. What is wrong with you?”

His eyes flashed dangerously.

“Now, now, sunshine. I understand you’re scared about this, and that’s okay, but don’t say things you don’t mean. You love me.”

“I don’t.” You whispered, suppressing a whimper when he scowled. “I thought I loved you, but I don’t. I don’t know who you are anymore.”

“I’m the father of your child.” He snarled, gripping your wrist and tugging you forcefully towards the bathroom, snagging the bag from the store off the counter as he went. His sudden change in demeanour cowed you into submission. “And you’re going to apologise, and then you’re going to take this fucking test.”

His grip on your arm was punishing.

“You’re hurting me,” You murmured, and he grunted in response, his hold not abating. “Think of the baby.” You added and his grip loosened immediately.

He turned to you once you reached the doorway of the bathroom and gave you a tired smile. The one he used to give you at the end of the day before you both fell into bed and snuggled until you fell asleep. You tried to not let it affect you.

“I’m sorry, sunshine, you’re right. I should be more careful with you now that you’re carrying something so precious and delicate. I’m glad to see you care about our baby so much.” He cupped your cheek lovingly, and for a second you forgot what he had done, forgot that he had betrayed your trust and taken your body for his own.

You leaned into his caress with a sigh and he hummed, pleased. He leaned in to press his forehead to yours, placing a chaste kiss on your cupid’s bow.

“I know you’re scared about this, baby. I know it’s a big change. But I also know that we can handle it. We are going to be the best parents in the whole world, I promise. Now go and take the test.”

He didn’t let you shut the bathroom door, but politely looked away as you conducted your business and waited until you had wrapped the used test in tissues and washed your hands.

You cleared your throat.

“Uhm, I- uh, it’s done?”

No sooner had you finished your sentence before Hoseok swept into the room and into his arms, being careful not to squeeze you too tightly.

“Oh, Sunshine, I’m so excited! I can imagine us as parents already!”

“You know,” you laughed nervously, “I might… not actually be pregnant. The first one could have been a false positive.”

His arms went rigid.

“You are pregnant.” He stated, as if he refused to believe anything else. “You are pregnant, because you’re my perfect girl, and I know you’d never disappoint me like that.”

“Hoseok-” You started, pulling away from him, but he didn’t let you go, clamping onto your wrists.

“You are pregnant. And if you aren’t, then you will be soon.” His face had become horrifyingly solemn. You whimpered as his nails started to dig into your skin.

“H-Hobi, I’m not even sure if I want to have kids-”

He raised his hand to strike you and you flinched back, one arm coming up to shield your face, the other protecting your stomach, and he softened immediately.

“I’m sorry, sunshine, I just-” He sighed as you continued to cower from him, tugging you into his arms again regardless of your yelp of fear.

“You just aren’t getting it. Of course, I would’ve liked to marry you first before having kids, but I knew you might be a little silly about it. That’s why I decided we should get pregnant first. Now you definitely can’t leave me — because I know you’d never be that selfish and deprive your child of a father — and we can get married!”

You repressed the urge to struggle in his arms as he continued to describe his deluded visions. “You’ll look so stunning, sunshine, just think of it. You all in white, glowing, your belly swollen with my child, so everyone can see you’re mine. I’ve been thinking about it for years.”

“Y-Years?” You laughed weakly, hoping he couldn’t sense your terror.

“Well, you don’t think our first meeting was by chance, right?” He chuckled, as if he were discussing some trivial matter, “So naïve, baby. I’ve just been waiting for the right moment. Doesn’t that make you feel special?”

“Uh huh,” You replied, your voice strained. God, he was a psychopath. You were carrying the child of a psychopath. And listening to him plan your future wedding.

“You don’t know how happy I am that you’re finally pregnant, I’ve been getting quite impatient. After swapping out your pills for all those months… I was going to start taking… drastic measures pretty soon.” Hoseok laughed, pulling back to gaze at your face with twinkling eyes.

If he saw the dread in your expression, he didn’t remark on it, just giving you his trademark heart-shaped smile.

“Now, sunshine, let’s confirm what we already know, let me see the test!”

You took the tissue-wrapped stick off the rim of the sink, slowly peeling away the layers to reveal the damning results. You held your breath, not knowing what result to hope for. If you weren’t pregnant, you had no idea what Hoseok would do to you, but if you were…

The tissue paper slowly fell away, revealing a single blue strip. Negative.

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subtlereferencetomyinterests · 4 years

Text

I Taste Honey but I Haven’t Seen the Hive - Chapter One

Ao3, MasterPost,

Relationships: eventual queer-platonic intruality, mentioned platonic relationships

Warnings: Touch-starvation, crying, meltdown, general angst, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 2,983

The carpet beneath his legs felt like sandpaper, rough and scratching. It was the kind of rug someone could find at their grandma’s house, the kind that you roll around on with the family dog when you’re little, even though it rubs your skin red if you lay still too long. It was painful, but a comfort. Familiar.

Patton sat unmoving on that itchy carpet, curled tight into a little ball and pressed into the very smallest corner of his room. His bed was just a foot or two away, but it offered no appeal to him. And, supposing it did, he probably wouldn’t have had the strength to make it there anyway.

The discomfort at least gave him something to focus that wasn’t his miserable little problem.

Patton’s breath came in with little hiccups, each one weaker than the last until he shook with lightheadedness. He couldn’t tell if he was crying, yet, but it was more likely than not. He couldn’t focus on much else other than the pure feeling overwhelming him, filling up his lungs. It was all too much.

He was too much.

That was the root of the issue; he was overbearing, he was overeager, he was overexcited- always over, and never just right. Never just right, and the only times he got close was when he wasn’t enough. Not smart, not patient, not… respectful.

He’d just needed- wanted- needed?- he’d wanted a hug, that was all. But of course, he couldn’t have just asked. He forgot; who forgets to do something so important? Just because he was giddy didn’t mean he was allowed to do something like that!

Logan had given quite the lecture when Patton had pulled away from him, mere seconds after he realized he wasn’t being held in return. Shame and embarrassment welled up in him at once. The intellectual side had looked so uncomfortable with what he’d done to him, and his rant had reflected that just as much. Patton apologized profusely right afterwards, of course he had- and Logan forgave him easily, looking remorseful himself for the outburst. He’d even offered, now that he was prepared for it, to give Patton the attention he’d been looking for. It was so generous, and sweet, and kind.

And obviously Patton couldn’t accept. He’d done enough already, so instead he declined, and with one last apology excused himself, darting up to his room to…

Well, to do this.

And it wasn’t that he’d upset Logan, that wasn’t what hurt. Logan forgave quickly- a privilege usually only reserved for Patton when it came to such a stubborn side as him- and he knew his best friend did care for him. It wasn’t even the guilt that hurt, because he was perfectly used to that emotion.

It was his skin, the burning. The lack. The need for something- anything- any display of affection that he didn’t have to struggle his way through initiating.

Patton’s hiccupping was devolving into sobbing by this point- he was overreacting, he knew he was overreacting, but now that he’d started he just couldn’t stop. And he got louder, louder, and louder, and he couldn’t choke it back. But between his gasps, he began to hear, distantly, the tell-tale sound of footsteps in the hallway.

Patton clamped his hand down over his mouth immediately, biting down on the side of it to stifle the whimpering. He hoped and prayed it wasn’t Logan, because he just knew that his friend would try so hard to help, even when what Patton needed was so touchy and clingy. But he shouldn’t have to deal with that.

Nobody should.

So, he held his breath.

As the footfalls grew closer, however, Patton realized that they were much too heavy and thumping to be Logan’s. His steps were quick and light, but this person’s shoes came down with force, possible platforms, and- oh.

Oh no, not that, anyone but that-

The door cracked against the wall as it was slammed open. Patton flinched, recoiling into his ‘hiding spot’ and hoping beyond hope that he was wrong about who it was.

Then Remus walked fully into the room, big chunky boots knocking against the carpet, and his worst fears were realized.

Of all the people to see him like- like this, it had to be the side that liked him the least. Not that he could blame Remus, because after everything he’d done to him it was certainly deserved, but that did nothing to assuage the terror blooming in his chest.

Remus gave the room a scan, clearly searching for something; he must’ve heard the crying. His gaze fell on Patton soon enough, and when it did his eyes widened to big, excited circles.

Patton pressed his back against the wall, knowing anything in the world could happen to him now. He knew better than to think that Remus was a monster, someone come to torture him till he was dead as something like him could be, by now. He’d learned that lesson after the acceptance, after fighting to move past those judgements.

But that didn’t mean Remus wouldn’t mock him, or poke and prod him in this vulnerable state, or any other number of smaller hurts that Patton most certainly had coming from the intrusive side. And the worst of that was he didn’t know, he had no clue what would happen, because Remus was Remus, the least predictable creature he’d ever met. What if he just left? Left and told everyone what he’d seen and now everyone would look at Patton with nothing but pity from now on, and they’d feel so guilty when they didn’t shower him with unearned attention.

“Oh, shit,” there was a sharp hiss, and then Remus had teleported right in front of Patton, crouching down to his level. The moral side would have recoiled, but he found that he was already cowering as much as he possibly could.

Patton’s face was pressed against his knees, his arms wrapped around his legs. He tried to control the small, distressed sounds that continued to escape him, but the efforts were useless when he felt calloused hands tugging at his wrists. He yelped.

“Now- Now’s not a- a good ti-me,” he gasped out, voice cracking like a child’s. He regretted the words at once, feeling the fingers on his skin still.

“I can see that, Pat.”

What was he thinking? There was no way Remus would leave now, now that he knew Patton didn’t want him there- not without teasing and badgering Patton until he got bored, at least. Why couldn’t he have just been better in the past, then maybe he wouldn’t be at the mercy of someone who more-or-less hated him? Why had it taken him so long to get things right- why did it always happen that way?!

“Hey, hey, look at me.”

Patton hesitated, sure that when he looked up he’d see Remus shapeshifting his face to something horrible and grotesque. Eventually, though, the tugging at his arms and the ache of his eyelids pressing against his knees broke him, and he glanced up.

And there was Remus. Just Remus. Looking as normal as he ever could have. Worried, even.

“There, that’s good- uhm, I’m not gonna hurt you, okay?” A toothy smile crossed his face, “Wow, never expected to hear myself say something like that, hah. I’m serious, though- which also feels weird to say!”

Patton stared at him in utter confusion. At the concern etching his face. That expression just didn’t seem to fit on the Duke’s face, looking out of place across his leathery skin and overly large features.

“You- you aren’t?”

Remus snorted, rolling his eyes (literally, a full 360 degree rotation) and scrunching up his nose.

“What, I’m gonna find you whimpering and bawling your eyes out like a newly-orphaned baby, sit down with a bowl of popcorn, and heckle the shit out of you?”

Patton glanced back down at his knees and went quiet. A ‘no’ was on the tip of his tongue, but he and Remus both hated lying, so he swallowed it back. The only thing he could say was:

“I’m sorry.”

Remus blinked, dropping out of his crouch to sit cross-legged in front of Patton.

“Nah, don’t be. I wouldn’t have put it past me from like, two months ago, anyway.”

Patton lowered his legs a bit, if only because the position made them sore. He angled his head to the side, puzzled.

“What changed?”

Remus spent a moment very obviously trying to decipher if the question was genuine.

“Uh, you stopped being a dick?”

Patton’s confusion only mounted, so much so that he hardly noticed the swearing.

“I did?”

“Yeah? Teary apology to me n’ everything,” Remus gave a noncommittal shrug, “Plus, you might be a prude, but you haven’t tried to boss me around in like… weeks.”

“Oh. Um,” Patton blanched, his fingers splayed out on his knees. He hadn’t thought such a simple apology would earn him anything near forgiveness- even when it first happened, guilt soaking every word from his mouth, Remus had laughed incredulously and brushed it off. And he’d read that as a refusal to accept the apology, but...

Remus let go of his wrists, opting instead to pick at his own claws. It seemed he was starting to realize just how out of place he seemed, sitting so casually in Patton’s room like this.

“Do you want me to get someone else to, like, cuddle you and talk about feelings or whatever? I don’t have a lot of experience with this whole comforting thing.”

Patton paled, panicked to think anyone else should have to be subjected to this.

“No!”

Patton felt himself flush embarrassedly when Remus startled, and dropped his words to a whisper.

“I mean- I don’t want anyone else to see… this. But you can still go, if you want.”

There was a moment’s deliberation.

“Alright,” Remus said simply.

Patton gave him as much of a smile as he could manage, waiting for the trait to leave. He tried to ease the disappointment he felt with the relief of knowing that he’d made it out of this conversation unharmed, but.

But the Duke made no move to leave.

He clearly picked up on Patton’s perplexion, and frowned.

“Well, I don’t wanna leave you like this.”

“Oh- oh, um, thank you, that’s- You don’t need to-”

“Do you want me to go?”

Patton hesitated, hunching his shoulders up. Did he? Did he really want to be alone? Again? But when the alternative was- well, he really didn’t know what it was. But it didn’t seem quite as bad as loneliness (few things would be).

“I’ll take your panicked silence as a ‘no, don’t leave’,” Remus announced, and- that was probably a good call, yeah. “So, do you wanna talk about it?”

Patton shook his head fiercely, like the question had struck him physically.

“Alriiight,” Remus drawled, “Do you want, I dunno, a hug?”

God, yes, more than anything- but he couldn’t… he couldn’t just! Take that!!

“Oh, you really don’t have to do that for me, I-”

“I know I don’t have to,” Remus said, “I volunteered to.”

Patton stared at him, eyes blown wide as a painful sort of hope grew in his chest.

“I- I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“You didn’t ask, I offered,” he retorted, sounding amused but not cruelly so. He outstretched his arms, opening them wide, and the offer was much more tempting than it should have been. “C’mere. I can’t promise it’ll be pleasant, obviously, but you don’t look too picky right now.”

Patton sat up straighter, leaning forwards on his knees. He let his hands fall to the carpet, inching just a bit closer. Each movement was halting, giving Remus as many chances as possible to take back his offer. When they were finally close enough, Patton reached out his hands, stopped them, and reached a little further, until just barely were his arms circled around the other’s torso.

The reaction was immediate; Remus surged forward and coiled his arms tightly around Patton’s back. He gripped tight before rocking back, essentially dragging the much taller side into his lap and holding him there.

And Patton could hesitate just a second more before his resolve crumbled, and he threw his arms around the Duke with force. He buried his face in the glittery fabric of Remus’ shoulder, finding it softer than he’d always expected. He didn’t attempt to hold back the crying now- not that he could, he wasn’t in any state of mind for self-control now that this was happening.

A hand found its way to Patton’s back, gently tracing up his shoulder blades and then back down. Another pressed against his hip, from an arm that was secure around his waist.

It was an indescribable relief. Remus had been wrong- so wrong: the embrace was the furthest thing from unpleasant. Sure, he may have smelled like rotted meat and mold, his slick-with-grease hair brushing the side of Patton’s face, but none of it mattered at all to how perfect the contact was. It was grounding, Remus’ arms sturdy. Whenever Patton was hugged, there was the anxiety that came with knowing it would end soon, but in that moment he felt nothing but security. Because it didn’t seem like this one would end after a measly few seconds, not with the way Remus held him.

He didn’t let go at all. When Patton started sobbing in earnest against his shirt, he gripped somehow tighter. And when that crying eventually tapered out into tiny whimpers, his hand on Patton’s back moved in wide circles, nails scratching softly down the ridges of his spine. And when fifteen minutes had passed, and Morality was finally soothed, he still made no moves to let go.

Patton heaved a breath full of shuddering relief, laying his head down against Remus’ chest and listening to the erratic and rhythmless beat of his heart(s?). What little energy he had on the reserves left him, leaving him limp against the intrusive side.

“You good now, Morey?”

Patton blinked drearily, hardly aware that he’d closed his eyes before he was prying them open again.

“I think so,” he tilted his face, a weary smile on his lips. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Remus lifted an arm to ruffle his hand through Patton’s curls, smirking.

There were a few minutes of quiet as Patton caught his breath, and eventually pulled away of his own accord. He pushed himself onto his knees and stood, hearing a few joints creak and pop in protest as he stretched. He swayed on his feet, his limbs staticky from how long he’d been in that less-than-ideal cuddling position.

Cuddling. Which was what Patton had just done. With Remus. The weirdness of that was just starting to catch up to him, there.

Remus stayed on the floor, stretched his arms above his head, and cracked his knuckles with sick popping sounds as he did. He proceeded to do the same for all of his limbs and joints, bending some of them backwards for good measure. Patton looked away, but Remus really didn’t seem to be trying to upset him; it just looked like habit.

“Well, this was nice,” Remus gave a final, crackling stretch. “Aside from the crying, I mean.”

“I’m sorry, I-”

Remus waved his hand dismissively, hopping to his feet.

“Don’t sweat it. It’s good to get the eyes pissing when you’re feeling rough,” he (sort of) comforted. Patton shifted from foot to foot, humming in vague agreement as Remus found his way to the door. Most every word on the tip of his tongue was another kind of apology, and it was only with difficulty that he could swallow them back.

“Thank you,” Patton muttered, “Again.”

“Anytime!” He threw the door open, catching the frame with his claws. He tossed a glance over his shoulder and a wide, inviting smile split his face. “And I do mean that, ya know.”

And with that, Remus was gone.

Patton hovered in the center of his room, staring at the closed door.

It was so empty now, even with all his clutter.

He shuffled over to his bed as the exhaustion hit him, falling into the plush mattress adorned with stuffed-animals and pillows. Hesitantly, he drew his arms around his middle, hugging himself as tight as he could.

Everywhere he pressed his fingers, the skin burned and prickled with lingering heat. He missed the touch already, but even the ghost of it filled him with relief. Patton exhaled, slow and steady, as he leaned back into his pillows. He felt better than he ever had after one of his meltdowns.

He typically dealt with them alone (he wasn't even sure if anyone other than Roman or Janus knew he had meltdowns, thanks to the wedding ordeal), and they always left him feeling cold and hollow. But this, this safety he felt, the cozy dreariness lulling him- it was cathartic. The change of pace was welcomed.

Patton’s eyes fluttered shut, and he sighed. Who knew- maybe he’d wake up to find a pile of dead mice under his bed in the morning, or a horse’s head beside his pillow, or a thick coat of effluvia all over his plushies. Maybe there would be something to indicate that the comfort had been a trick, just another way for Remus to sneak something disgusting into his room as a prank. But something told Patton that the chance of that happening wasn’t all that likely.

Remus was, after all, very unpredictable.

Chapter Two

Taglist: @glitter-skeleton-uwu @donnieluvsthings @intruxiety @thefivecalls @did-he-just-hiss-at-me @gayformlessblob

#sanders sides #ts #fanfic #fanfiction #sanders sides fanfiction #ts fanfic #intruality #my writing #platonic intruality #multi-chapter #patton #remus

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p-artsypants · 3 years

Text

I Do...I Guess (7)

The Thunder Plains

The chapter name is a lie. The majority of the chapter still takes place in Guadosalam. :/

Ao3 | FF.net

—

Tidus couldn’t sleep. It had been a long, emotional, crazy busy day, and his brain just wouldn’t shut off.

Kimahri and Wakka snoring wasn’t helping much either.

Auron leaned against the wall, head braced up against his hand, braced on his knee. The man constantly bitched about people getting to bed early, but was he even sleeping? He couldn’t be comfortable.

Tidus got up, and slipped his boots on, not even bothering to tie them properly. He was a little thirsty, and thought that maybe a little walk around the halls would clear his head enough to get back to bed. Maybe he could even find the kitchen.

As he opened the door to his room, he heard a squeak. He had almost smacked Yuna in the face with the door.

“Oh! I’m so sorry!” He whispered. “What are you doing up? Can’t sleep either?”

She shook her head and held a finger to her lips. She grabbed his hand and pulled him further down the hall. “I’m investigating,” she confessed when they were alone.

“Investigating? Why? What?”

“In the Farplane, I lied. Lord Jyscal did say something to me, but I didn’t want everyone to know.”

“Are you going to let me in on the scoop?”

“Yes, and I need your help, please.”

He nodded.

“Lord Jyscal said he left something for me behind his portrait in the lobby.”

“Really? For you?” He asked, perplexed. “Did you ever know him?”

“No, but I think he wanted someone trustworthy. Braska’s daughter, another Summoner, would probably be a good guess.”

“Okay, what do you need me to do?”

“Come with me, and keep watch. I want to see what this is before any other Guado gets a hold of it. If he had to come to me in the Farplane, it’s obviously something he didn’t want to disclose on his deathbed.”

Tidus frowned at that. “I hadn’t considered that. What could it be?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Should we be getting involved with it?”

Again, she shrugged, looking sheepish. “I’d feel guilty ignoring the wishes of a dead man. If he appeared, it’s obviously bothering him. Maybe this will give him closure.”

“Okay, if you’re sure.” He scratched the back of his neck. “Don’t you want to tell the others?”

She smiled at his concern. “You think Auron and Wakka will let me get involved in this?”

He scoffed. “‘This is a waste of time. This is a distraction.’” He impersonated Auron.

“‘Oh this is Yevon matters, we shouldn’t get involved, ya?’” She pretended to be Wakka.

“That’s a really good Wakka!”

“And you do a really good Auron!” She giggled.

There was a creak from down the hall, the mansion settling in the night. No one was there, but it reminded them that they were out in the hall.

“Let’s go!” She urged him down the hall to the lobby.

A Guado guard stood outside of Seymour’s room, but there was no one else around.

“Lady Yuna? Is everything okay?”

“She was thirsty,” Tidus provided. “Can you show her the way to the kitchen?”

Obviously the guard found them non-threatening and smiled at them. “I can get you a glass of water. Just wait here.” They followed him down the stairs, passed Jyscal’s portrait, and watched him go into the Parlor, where they had met Seymour earlier in the day.

“Okay, keep watch,” Yuna said as she hurried to the portrait. With a little grunt, she admitted, “Actually, let’s trade places, it’s kind of heavy.”

He swiftly took her place and lifted the portrait off the wall. Since the wall was made up of roots, there was a little alcove hidden, with a sphere, a rolled up piece of paper, and a signet ring. Not knowing what object he was supposed to grab, he swiped them all and stuffed them into his jacket.

“I hear him coming!” Yuna whispered.

Tidus fumbled with the portrait, trying to get it back on the wall. It was harder than it looked.

“Here’s your water—“ The guard returned, and immediately spotted Tidus with the portrait. “Hey!”

“I’m sorry! I knocked it off the wall by accident!”

The guard handed the water to Yuna, and went to help. They hung the painting right, and the guard gave him an exasperated look. “Don’t touch the portraits!”

“Sorry! I’m still half asleep, and so clumsy!”

Still slightly annoyed, he looked at Yuna. “Is there anything else I can do for you, Lady Yuna?”

“No, that’s all. Thank you.”

He nodded curtly, and resumed his post.

“I think I need some air,” said Yuna to Tidus, loud enough for the guard to hear. “Will you escort me outside?”

“Of course,” he held his arm out to her, and they left the mansion.

Yuna led them to the Farplane, which had a deep and long enough hall that they could have a bit of privacy. It wasn’t ideal, but time was of the essence.

“What did you find?”

Tidus took out the three items. “I’m not sure which of these he referred to, so I just took them all?”

“Alright, so a sphere, a ring, and…” she unrolled the paper. “A map of Spira.”

Tidus looked over her shoulder. “What’s this?” He pointed at a tiny red X on the end of a string of islands.

“That’s Al Bhed territory. I don’t know what that would be.”

“Let’s remember it for later. Now, the ring?”

“Not sure. Might be sentimental, or valuable. I don’t think it’s what he was alluding to.”

“Okay, and then this sphere?”

“Let’s watch it,” Yuna urged, with thinly veiled excitement. It seemed like she was getting a thrill from this mystery.

Tidus set it on the ground and allowed the image to project. The scene was a room, Jyscal sat at his desk, facing away from the camera and a servant stood back, listening.

“When I finish this recording, I will give it to you, Orlus. When I die, I want you to put it behind my portrait in the lobby. Tell no one, absolutely no one about it.”

“You have my word, My Lord.”

“After I pass, no matter how it happens, and this deed is complete, I want you to leave Guadosalam. I don’t care where you go, but for your own safety, and the safety of Spira, go.”

“Yes my lord. But if I may speak freely, you’re certainly not that old. You’re in great health. Do you anticipate this happening soon?”

“Yes. In fact, any day now.” He turned to face the sphere, and to talk to them.

Tidus paused the recording and pointed to a grid on the desk. “Hey wait, is that a calendar?”

“Yes, and it’s dated to almost three weeks ago.”

“And in Luca, the announcer said that Seymour became Maester a fortnight ago. Isn’t that two weeks?”

She nodded.

“To you who are watching this sphere. I don’t know who you are. But know I trust no one more with this information. What I am about to tell you is the absolute truth, on my honor as a Guado, and Maester of Yevon. I will leave this world soon, and if my hunches are correct, it will be at the hand of my own son, Seymour. Though this act is heinous, I can not fault him, for the world has not been kind to him or his mother. And I did not do my best to protect them. Seymour has become twisted, vile, and thirsts for violence. I fear that if he is not stopped, Spira will pay. If I am to die of natural causes, I will pass my signet ring onto my successor. But if I am to meet an early demise, the ring will be with this sphere. That is my proof that Seymour has done me in.”

Tidus looked meaningfully at the ring in his hand.

“During the recent talks with my son, I find myself doubting the truth of my wife’s demise as well. The map that you found is the temple to which Seymour and his mother were sequestered to. In the months following her death, I never could see her in the Farplane, and I fear something horrible had befallen her. Please, if you are watching this sphere, stop my son, by any means necessary. And if you can, please find out what happened to my wife.”

The sphere ended, and the couple stood in silence, staring at it.

“Wow.” Said Tidus, without much else to say. What could he say? ‘You really dodged that bullet’?

Yuna’s only answer was a sniff. He glanced at her to see her crying.

“Oh Yuna…”

“I’m so foolish,” She sobbed. “I thought…Seymour was a good and honorable man, that he only had my best interests at heart.”

“You couldn’t have known—“

“But he’s a murderer! I would have signed my own death certificate with a marriage to him!”

Tidus frowned. “Well, not necessarily, but it is worth investigating why he wanted to marry you. Because we both know he wasn’t in it for the peace and happiness of Spira.”

Yuna clenched her eyes shut, trying not to cry more. “I was so stupid…”

“No, no, stop that.” He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her into a hug. He had disagreed with her decision to even consider the proposal. And everyone else had told her it was a bad idea.

But Yuna was smart. She had her reasons, even though she wasn’t being completely honest about them.

“Thank you,” she whispered, pecking his cheek before pulling out of the hug. “And thank you for not rubbing it in my face and saying, ‘I told you so’.”

“Oh I wouldn’t do that…at least not to you.”

She couldn’t help but giggle.

“Let’s go back to the Farplane and talk to Jyscal. He can confirm what we saw in the sphere.”

“Good idea! Would you hang onto the stuff we found?”

“Of course, My Lady.”

She blanched. “Could you not call me that? Seymour uses that all the time. It just feels…icky.”

“I totally understand, My Dearest.”

Yuna smiled at that. “Thank you.” She took his hand and led him back into the Farplane, where they had been earlier in the day.

At this time of night, or morning now, the platform was completely empty. Even the guard at the door was gone.

Yuna took her place at the podium, Tidus by her side, and rested her hand in the sphere.

Her abundance of people appeared again, and she glanced over them all.

She grimaced.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t see him.”

“Can you like, call out to him? Maybe he’s up there somewhere.”

She closed her eyes and focused, and all the other figures faded away.

“He’s not there,” she lamented.

“Why not? He was here earlier. Unless he doesn’t want to talk to us…?”

She turned to look at him, pale and fearful. “I fear something worse than that. I think he left the Farplane.”

Tidus’ eyes widened. “You can do that?”

“Not that I know of for certain. There’s old wives tales and ghost stories that might hold some truth. But Lord Jyscal did not look well, even in death. And he didn’t have a clean death. I fear Seymour never sent him, and he was only in the Farplane to contact someone.”

“Of course Seymour wouldn’t send him. Then he couldn’t tell anyone about his murder. So, where did he go?”

“I don’t know, but…he’s probably a fiend somewhere.”

“A Maester in life, and a fiend in death. That’s…that’s worse than murder. We have to stop him. Somehow.”

Yuna looked at Tidus’ jacket pocket, where she had seen him stash the movie sphere away in. “Jyscal said to stop him by any means possible. Do you think…we’ll have to fight him?”

“Fine by me. Let’s fight him, and kill him and not send him, then he can be a fiend and suffer like his father is.” Tidus had never met Lord Jyscal, but by the bitterness in his voice, you’d think he cared a lot about him.

The thing was, Tidus was a victim in a cruel father-son relationship. And for a father to finally be the victim and the son the villain…well, it made his stomach churn.

“For now,” he placed a hand on the small of her back. “Let’s get back to the mansion, and get some sleep. We can’t do anything tonight.”

“You’re right, of course. I’m glad I can share a room with Rikku and Lulu, but…”

“I know. I wish I was there too.” He turned his back to her and started walking back.

But Yuna crashed into him from behind, wrapping her arms around his waist.

“Yuna?”

“It shouldn’t have been surprising,” she began. “Every time I spoke with Seymour, I would get this sinking feeling in my gut. Remember before operation Mi’ihen? I told you I had this sense of dread that something was going to go wrong.”

“I remember,” he rested a hand on top of hers.

“I had the same feeling with Seymour. I just didn’t understand why. I thought maybe…maybe if I didn’t go along with whatever he wanted, something bad would happen.”

“Like what? What could he do?”

“I thought maybe, he’d find a way to end my pilgrimage.”

“Could he really do that?”

“He can’t forbid me, but he could ban me from the temples, or convince Wakka and Lulu to force me to stop, or have me imprisoned or—“

“You’ve been worrying about this for a while.” He noted.

She hugged him tighter, burying her face between his shoulder blades.

“If it bothered you so much, why didn’t you say anything?”

“They wouldn’t have taken me seriously. They didn’t take you seriously, so…”

He scoffed. “Yeah, but Yuna, I’m not from Spira. I’m not beholden to Yevon. And I’m a guy. Any weird feelings I get, are automatically going to be written off as jealousy. And it was.”

She curled her fingers in his clothes. “I don’t always feel like I’m being listened to.”

“Really?”

“I feel like…the others listen to me, because I’m the summoner, and they're supposed to do what I ask. But I feel like…they discount what I say because I’m so young. It was like that the whole time I was training. ‘Are you sure? Are you sure?’ Everyday for ten years, they made me feel like…like I wasn’t thinking right.”

“You feel like they agree with you, because they have to, not because they understand and really agree?”

“Yes!” She threw her arms up in frustration. Meek little Yuna seemed to explode in anger as she paced the platform. Tidus cautiously turned to face her. “I know that I don’t know everything, but the least they could do is give me the benefit of a doubt!”

“I’m sorry you feel that way.”

She paled immediately and started to backpedal. “Not you though! You always listen to me. I feel like I can tell you anything and you really listen to what I’m saying. I appreciate that about you.”

“Of course I listen to you. You’re the most interesting and wisest person I know.”

She blushed. “Thank you.”

“At any rate, thank you for explaining things to me a bit more. I understand what you were thinking. I’m not upset anymore.”

She breathed a sigh of relief and rested a hand on her chest. “Thank goodness.”

“Now,” he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Let’s get to bed. If we’re tired in the morning, Auron will give us crap for it.”

She giggled. “We better go right to sleep then!”

As they walked back to the manor, a thought struck Tidus.

“Hey, we had our first fight! It’s like we’re a real married couple!”

“My parents never fought.” Yuna argued back.

“Do you want to go back and ask them? I’m sure they did, just in private.”

“That would be something they’d hide from us.”

“‘Us’?”

She looked away from him quickly. “Oh…I didn’t mean to say that. I…had a brother.”

“What happened?” He winced. “If I can ask. I haven’t heard anyone mention him before.”

“He died with my mother. They were on a ship to visit family on Bikanel Island. Sin attacked, and the boat sank. Only one man survived, and that’s how we know what happened.”

“But he wasn’t with your parents in the Farplane? Or was he older and I just didn’t see him?”

She shook her head. “The boat sank. There were no summoners to do a sending. My mother must have accepted death, but Talcott…he’s probably a fiend out in the ocean.” She made her lips into a thin line. “It would be best if you didn’t tell anyone about this. Lulu and Wakka don’t know.”

“Why? You and your father are so famous. Why doesn’t anyone know that your mother is Al Bhed? Why is your brother just…gone?”

“He looked more Al Bhed than me. He also had one blue eye, and one green. But his hair was blonde like Rikku. We were both so little, I barely remember him. But…you know Yevon and the Al Bhed.”

“So they just pretend that part of you doesn’t exist?”

“Basically. They knew that my father married an Al Bhed. He was never given any fanfare at the temples, and was often harassed. His journey must have been the hardest.”

“But he’s beloved now.”

“He wouldn’t be, if it was public knowledge. You heard what he said, ‘when she defeats Sin, anything you did wrong will be overlooked.’”

“That’s stupid and unfair.”

“For now. But when I beat Sin, I want you to tell everyone that I’m half Al Bhed. An Al Bhed became a Summoner and killed Sin. That’ll show them!” She beamed.

“Me? You think they’ll listen to me?”

“The Husband of the High Summoner? You’ll be living in the lap of luxury. You’ll be interviewed for books and spheres…everyone will want to hear you tell the story.”

“And what will you be doing?”

She was quiet for a while, her hands clasped behind her back. Then, with a coy smile, she turned to glance at him. “I’ll be sleeping. After all, I’m going to be the one doing all the work.”

He smiled right back, “okay, Wise Guy. And I bet you expect me to carry you all the way back to Besaid.”

“I’d prefer a bridal carry over piggy back.”

He scoffed. “Then I better get to work practicing my deadlift!”

—

In the morning, the horrible storm had passed. Now only the regular rain and lighting remained in the Thunder Plains.

After a light breakfast, the group packed up and departed from Guadosalam.

Only to hesitate at the exit.

Well, only one party member hesitated.

“Do we have to go through here?” Asked Rikku, curled in on herself. “Can’t we go around?”

“Going around the Thunder Plains would add a week or more to the journey,” said Auron, coldly. “We go forward.”

“What if…I went around? And met up with you guys later?”

Tidus patted her back. “Come on, Rikku. You can’t be afraid of a little thunder.”

A flash of lightning shot across the sky, and Rikku literally jumped in the air and scrambled up on Kimahri. “I’m not scared of the thunder! I’m scared of the lightning!”

“There’s no reason to be, if we move quickly,” Auron assured. “Lingering on the flat plain is what will do us in.”

Rikku pouted.

“Let’s go.”

There wasn’t much opportunity for chit chat on the plains. They were moving quickly, and thunder almost constantly rumbled above.

Finally, they reached the halfway point where there was an Al Bhed rest stop.

Rikku begged for sanctuary, pitifully.

“No. It’s a waste of time. There will always be thunder. It’s not going to subside.”

“Please? Just 15 minutes. Just to calm down?"

Auron was about to put his foot down and leave her behind, when Yuna declared, “actually. I could use a break as well.”

Auron huffed, but stalked towards the door. “Fine. 15 minutes!”

Inside, Yuna went to the counter and asked for a room.

“Yuna?” Asked Lulu.

“I just need a minute,” she responded, with a slight smile.

“I’ll uh…I’ll stand watch.” Tidus announced as he followed her into the hall where the rooms were.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

“Yes. Just thinking.” She closed and locked the door behind him. “Can I see Jyscal’s sphere, please?”

He took it out. “Why? Did you think of something?”

She set it on the floor and watched it. Then rewound it and played it again.

“Can I ask what’s on your mind?” He tried again. Usually Yuna was pretty easy to read, but this whole situation with Seymour and Jyscal had thrown him for a loop.

“I’m just…wondering. Lord Jyscal was a true devout of Yevon. He brought the faith to the Guado. I don’t think he would have been as successful if he didn’t truly believe.”

“And?”

“And…he asks us to stop Seymour any way possible.”

“Because Seymour is a murderer. That’s pretty definitive.”

“Right, but…why didn’t he tell us to take this sphere to Maester Mika? Why leave Seymour’s fate in our hands? Why not let the church deal with him?”

Tidus didn’t have an answer for her, but by the way she clasped her hands under her mouth, he feared she had come to her own conclusion, and it wasn’t good.

#Final Fantasy X #ffx #yuna #tidus #tidus x yuna #fanfiction #fanfic #I Do...I guess?

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laur-rants · 3 years

Text

Fic Update: Blood Wolf

Chapter 3

Fandom: Dishonored Ship: Daud/The Outsider. yes, I made that executive decision.

Rated: Mature to Explicit, Strong Violence and Gore Ahead!!

Synopsis: Daud-Centric Prequel to Wolfbann. The story centers on how Daud turned, and his subsequent marking by the outsider and his formulation of the Whalers. Notes: There probably won’t be nsfw content in this fic, but it WILL be… violent. I want to play with my own boundaries of written violence and also Daud’s start wasn’t nearly as clean as Corvo’s. Their contrast on dealing with the werewolf transformation is one of the things I want to really explore, and Daud gets very close to falling off the wagon.

CHAPTER TAGS: Daud transforms. It’s horrible and wonderful all at the same time. There is a mild description of consuming a person, but I wouldn’t consider it cannibalism. Necessarily. Werewolves sometimes... eat people. AO3 link First :: Previous :: Next

----------------------------------------------------

Dunwall, Gristol

Month of Clans -- 1820

Daud set up a meeting with the contract creator the next night. It gave him time to prepare, to consider his options and perhaps, to look a little less frightful for the person he wished to work with. The address given on the contract was nondescript; a small general practitioner's office, tucked away in Draper's Ward and identified by the universal dual-snake staff on the window. Daud chose to drop by after hours, of course; no need for others to see the owner conversing with an assassin. He had planted an earlier note to say he would be visiting unconventionally but the individual inside the office room still jumped when suddenly a whaler mask was knocking gently at the upstairs office window.

It was a small man with a round face and large eyebrows that greeted Daud, glasses getting pushed up as he quickly came over, unlatching the terrace doors and allowing the assassin entry. Daud slipped in, silent and stealthy despite the tremble in his hands and shoulders. He hadn't expected his client to be a doctor and quietly hoped the man wouldn't pay close enough attention to ask questions.

"Thank you for finally getting back to me on this contract," the man -- Misha Romanov, if Daud remembered the contract properly -- nervously said, looking over Daud. His eyes trailed from the mask and hood to the black clothes to the whaler blade at his side. He swallowed, clearly intimidated, walking around the office to physically put distance between the two of them. Daud tilted his head, clicking his tongue.

"You've never hired a hitman before," Daud remarked, posing it more as an annoyed observation than a question. It was clear; from the man's unease to the amount of coin offered, he was a novice when it came to dealing with and understanding the job he was asking for. Perhaps this was a bad idea after all; but Daud was here, and it would be ludicrous to turn around now. Might as well make the best of it.

"This is my first time, yes," Misha replied, choosing to busy himself with one of his displayed medical instruments instead of looking Daud in the glassy eye. "I have never had a need before. I try more to save lives, rather than take them, you see." He wrung his hands, then offered a small smile. "But now... my brothers are dead and I have no idea what happened to them, or their dogs. They were the only family I had left… I didn't know where else to turn."

"Misha Romanov then, right?" The doctor nodded, confirming what he knew. "What happened to your brothers-- before they disappeared?" Daud asked, his voice muffled behind the thick mask. Misha, emboldened by the question, answered as clinically as possible, recounting how his brothers had gotten into a dog fighting business over the last few years, completely sucked in, throwing money into dogs and gambling over Fink's wagers. It had been an obsession -- one that ultimately, they didn't return from. Naturally, Misha feared the worst and blamed Eustace and Howard Fink for their disappearance.

"I saw the one brother, Eustace, sulking near the cafe one morning soon after Adrian and Mikhail didn't return at their usual time," Misha supplied, "and that's when I knew I'd be powerless to get justice unless I hired an assassin. So I posted my contract and waited. And waited. I had almost given up on anyone taking the job, until you contacted me. Your interest in this hit is greatly appreciated."

Daud held up a frustrated hand. "Please do not offer appreciation, not until my work is done. I'm not doing this out of the kindness of my heart. I'm doing it because it's personal, and the pay is so low only someone like me would take the contract anyway. If anyone is the lucky party in this deal, trust me, it's you."

Misha blinked. "Oh? You… you know Fink?" He then blanched, his face going terrified. "You didn't work for him in the past, did you?"

"No, nothing like that," Daud said, taking a too-ragged breath. He could feel the sweat trickling down his neck, across his wounds-- even that simple contact burned. "I actually was contracted to kill Eustace's brother, Howard. The same day your brothers most likely perished, I almost died, too. Lady Luck herself is the only reason I'm still alive; the Fink brothers were into some deep, disgusting shit."

Misha blinked, adjusting his glasses before giving Daud a more thorough look-over. Daud stiffened under the gaze, suddenly self-consciousness, and he tried to still the tremor of his limbs.

"Are you well now? You appear in pain, or feverish."

Of course this guy could tell. Daud cursed him for being such an astute doctor.

"You're not being paid enough as a doctor if you can tell that just from looking me over," Daud sneered, hiding the rasp of his voice. This only furrowed the man's brow further, his tone growing serious.

"If you need me to offer medical assistance before the mission, I'd be more than willing to--"

"I'm here for a job, doctor. Not a diagnosis."

"Right, of course, of course… But, if you're still in a state when the job is over, consider it part of the payment. I can easily add it to the contract between us, mister…?"

Void-- "Daud. Just Daud." He said, annoyed. "No Lord, no mister, no honorifics at all. I'm an assassin, not a noble."

"Sorry, just trying to be polite. And you know my name, of course, but I can supply a business card if needed--"

"No. All I need is half payment up front, and as many details on Fink that you can provide." Misha nodded; he went to a dusty safe in the corner, opened it, and pulled out a small purse of 100 silver. Daud noticed very few valuables in the safe and wondered just how lucrative being a general practitioner was in the Draper's Ward. Or, perhaps, his gambling brothers had preyed on his meager earnings too, an addiction that drained the doctor and ultimately tore apart their family. He felt the urge to ask, to reach out and inquire, but he managed to keep his curiosity to himself. It wasn't important to the job, and it wasn't Daud's business to know how wealthy his clients were, or where they got the coin they paid him with.

Misha returned with the coin and Daud carefully pocketed it. Misha also handed over papers: they contained a few addresses, including one not too far from here. Daud frowned under the mask, his breath hissing out of the respirator.

"That's his home and work addresses," Misha explained. "I tend to see him at this cafe, Swinney's, down off Cashmere Ave in the mornings. I pass it on my way to the clinic in the mornings."

"That's quite a ways from here," Daud muttered, before he could stop himself. Misha just shrugged.

"The commute is long on foot, but it's what I can afford. Most nights I just stay here. Cheaper that way."

Daud said nothing. Just crumpled the paper in his hand before folding it up and tucking it away, next to his contract.

"Do not be surprised if this takes some time. Assassination is not easy, nor is it quick in the way you expect it is. I will seek you out once the hit is complete, understood?"

Misha nodded, and if he had any further questions, he didn't ask them. "Whatever you need to do, I suppose."

"That's why they call it 'wet work,' Romanov," Daud told him, a hint of dark humor coloring his words. Daud then took his departure, leaving Misha and the office as silently as he had entered.

------

It should be simple. An easy set up: an easy take down. Silent, efficient, no trace to let anyone ask after. Eustace Fink was not well guarded, not spatially aware, and he was incredibly routine. Textbook, really.

Instead, it was shaping up to be one of the hardest stake outs of Daud's career.

He had spent a few days setting up the kill, pulling himself through the motions. He cached any necessary food, plenty of coin, and a few changes of clothes. He knew where he needed to be and when. He had all of his equipment restocked from the black market right outside of the Distillery District, where nobody asked twice about his mask or his stance. It was all ready to go.

But of course it couldn't be that simple. Nothing of importance ever was.

It was the fourth night of his stakeout when it happened. As soon as he settled in to make the hit finally happen, his fever rolled him over like a riptide.

It came on quickly, the nausea. He hadn't expected it; for the last week his fever had been low-grade, barely noticeable. He had, effectively, learned to ignore it. But it came roaring back up as if it was the day he spent crawling out of the sewer. One second, he was relaxing, waiting for Fink to be alone in his own home; the next he was lurching, tossing the whaler mask up and over his head just in time to empty the contents of his stomach over the side of the roof.

It stank so bad he reeled, dry heaving again. He managed to keep the rest of it down, the sweat drenching his forehead as he wiped his mouth with the back of a clammy glove. He growled in frustration, his arms barely holding his weight, but he spent the extra moments to breathe, evening out his heartbeat and emotions. He looked over to the estate; Fink was alone. Daud felt his stomach flip again, making itself known. He swallowed back the sensation; it was now or never.

Sickness be damned, he needed to get this hit off.

He stood and his feet were surprisingly steady for the vertigo he was experiencing. Not that he was worried; Daud had stalked and successfully killed someone drunk before. It was a dare, one that Rulfio didn't think he would go through with, but he was even younger and cockier back then. A little head sickness was nothing compared to that job, but the thought of Rulfio sobered him enough to keep focused on the task at hand. He lithely jumped from the roof, heading to the Draper's Ward residence, as silent as a street cat.

He kept a bead on Fink even as he felt the sweat gather on his forehead again; something in his chest felt like it wanted to burst, and Daud vaguely hoped it wasn't his heart. He slipped on a roof tile, steadied himself, then listened intently, hearing Eustace's voice float up.

"I should be fine, but I can't help but think that I should be more worried about what happened that night. I mean-- I woke up and Howard was dead and so was that huge black magic brute. There was another person, dead in the corner, and so many unlucky bodies that didn't make it out alive… there will be questions soon. So many questions. How do they not smell it there under the Pub? Maybe the rats ate the bodies… how convenient if so. Nothing to investigate, nothing to convict. If the City Watch ever got wind of this..."

It took Daud a bit of processing to suss out if Eustace was speaking to someone else in the room, but no; the beat and cadence was reminiscent of someone recording an audiograph. If he listened closely enough, nearing the balcony door, he could hear the whirr of the machine, the click of the hole punch. His breathing hitched and his pulse thundered in his ear.

His prey was so, deliciously, tantalizingly, close. Daud stayed his hand, listening closely.

The machine stopped, pushing the card out and finishing the audiograph. There were footsteps, and Eustace walked out onto his balcony, his hands tight as he tucked the audiograph away in his vest, where he clearly thought it safe. His back was to Daud and the balcony door, lighting a cigar, the smoke curling up into the warm summer night air.

The wind roared in Daud's ears. It would be so easy to drop down, slit his throat, watch the blood spill over his gloves-- and suddenly he was aching for it, longing for the crunch of bones, the heat of crimson rivers running from a burst vein, the thrill of a new kill…

The thoughts were intrusive and revolting, nearly causing him to heave again. He still managed to hold himself together, not wanting to drown in his mask, even ignoring the persistent itch on his face. The rising threat of bile burned at the back of his throat but he swallowed it down, his grip growing tight on the roof's edge. He held his position and waited, patience baked into him from years of careful practice. Fink eventually finished enjoying his cigar, extinguishing the butt before turning back to his room.

Daud waited for Fink to pass under him. He then slipped down, his boots silent against the stone. He crouched, righted himself, and pulled his blade from his side. His thumb found the notch in the metal.

When Eustace Fink turned around to close the balcony doors, Daud was there, glassy eyes and muzzled mask glaring down at the second noble that had caused this nightmare of his to happen.

Fink opened his mouth to scream. Daud rushed him, faster than he's ever moved. A powerful hand gripped Eustace by the throat, silencing him and guiding him over to a wall far from any escape route. He felt like nothing in Daud's grasp, like he was a weighted bag that Daud had the displeasure of carrying for a friend. The man was larger than him, heftier, and yet Daud could take him and lift him with a single arm, his right hand still holding the blade he'd drawn. It was heady and unbelievable, Daud didn't know where this power was coming from but it surged through him like a rising storm. He tapped further into that tempest, slamming Eustace into the wall next to his desk.

The man whimpered. Daud snarled. Fink flinched and gasped and Daud almost laughed. He can't believe someone so weak-hearted tried to command a literal monster.

Or perhaps, a nasty little voice in his head supplied, the monster was the weak one... Show him that you are different. Show him what your Power is.

"You and your brother sure made a lot of enemies, didn't you, Eustace…" Daud growled out, his teeth feeling oddly heavy, morphing his words as he spoke them. They came out graveled and sharp and he suppressed the urge to lick his lips as he continued. "If I'm here, you have a bigger problem than the City Watch finding bloated bodies under a riverside bar."

Fink said nothing. Instead, he started crying. Of all things, the man wept in front of his soon-to-be killer. Daud almost recoiled in disgust; this man wasn't even worth the coin. He slammed Fink against the wall again, eliciting a startled yelp from him.

"Do you even know why I'm here, Eustace Fink?" Daud spat the name out like it was undercooked blood ox. "Do you know who killed your brother? It was the assassin who you thought was dead in the sewers when you woke up. Your brother's monster ruined me but I survived and if you value your life, you're going to give me the answers I deserve."

His voice grew in power despite the low whisper he spoke with. His words filled his own ears, reaching the room around them, and Fink gulped visibly. He looked Daud over, rasping against the hold that kept him in place.

"Did it mark you?" He asked, finally. "The Outsider's monster?"

"And if it did?" Daud threatened, mask dangerously close to Fink's face. "What does it matter?" He brought the blade up, his head tilting. "What do you know, Eustace Fink?"

"Ah, I-I don't know as much as Howard did! He found the original beast, not me! But it… they always changed. The curse was always passed down. There isn't a cure for it. They all went mad and eventually--" Eustace gasped and his words died as Daud's grip dangerously tightened. He recalled what Brimsley had said to him, the words burning in his ears.

"You're one now too, aren't you?"

Daud's body lurched. His grip loosened, freeing Fink as that nausea filled him again, along with a different sensation, one where his head, his chest, his limbs wanted to burst, his skin scorching him all over.

"No," Daud rasped out, his eyes far away. "I am not--" He stared at his gloves; his vision blurring dangerously. When Fink tried to crawl away, however, his sight caught the movement, head turning sharply. In a flurry, the blade was singing through Eustace's heels; the tendons sliced like butter and Fink collapsed, crying out. The blood pooled around his ankles, the smell of it sharp in Daud's nose. Eustace stayed prone on the floor, whimpering, his face rapidly losing color as shock set in.

Pathetic.

Daud hunched over Fink's form, his breath ragged and heavy. Eustace stared at him, eyes wet and terrified, and Daud felt his seams unravel, his body falling apart.

"It's happening? Here, now? Oh Void, oh Outsider's eyes…" Fink continued to babble, crying out for the fabled god of the Void, as if such an entity existed, could even save him from what was happening. Daud opened his mouth to refute Eustace; it came out as a splintered roar, words failing him.

"Where is your god, Eustace?" His voice boomed, but he did not know where the words came from, not when his mouth was making such unearthly noise. "You were the one who played god, killing assassins for your games, your bloody gambling coin. Did you think yourself honorable, setting such a trap? How many men died to serve you and your fucked up brother?"

Eustace paled and he looked so small, so tiny, so weak. To think this man and his brother succeeded as much as they had, enslaving unknowing participants for entertainment…

His head reeled in anger and rage. He pulled the man close, his hands curling into smoking, burning claws that dig deep into Eustace's clothes, ripping at skin.

"Stop praying to a god who won't listen! This is your reality! Now face your judgement!"

Daud ripped the whaler mask off and underneath was no longer the face of a man. A true muzzle burst from his face, black and filled with glistening, razored fangs. His wounds burned and steamed as his eyes bulged and he screamed, the pain of the last month consuming him entirely. Ribs cracked and bones shifted and he grew, his body doubling, tripling. His skin was tearing off and it felt so good, like he had been waiting his whole life, his whole existence, for this singular moment of unbridled ecstasy.

He roared and it was like the land, the sea, like the Void itself, shook under the sound of his cry. He laughed, eyes watering, filled with relief and pain and it was all so much, too much. He screeched, the sounding reminiscent of a dying whale, before his teeth slammed together like a crashing wave. Fink was still in his vicinity; he could smell the fear, hear the pleading, but all it did was anger him further. He didn't need this sniveling worm of a human.

A clawed hand grabbed Eustace and in the next second his body was in ribbons. Guts spilled and a head rolled and Daud felt his mind flee, the smell of iron and heat overwhelming his senses in a way he'd never known after a kill. Suddenly he was ravenous, he needed that blood on his tongue. He obliged his primal desire, ripping the man's arm off with ease, letting bone and fat and muscle fill his mouth with the heat of a fleeing life.

There was a scream. Daud's ears caught it and he turned, lip curling. He had nothing to say to the woman standing in the door, hair tied back and clutching her dress. The sound of her distress continued, unwavering. Daud stepped towards her, snarling.

She ran.

He was moving faster than he could ever have imagined, his legs possessing a strength that was unlike anything he'd ever experienced. His body moved on its own accord, spurred on by the thrill of the hunt, of the pursuit of prey and he was giddy, drunk off it. The house was a maze but his nose cut through the turns, following the fear and nausea, the horror of his unhinged rampage left in his wake. Walls and doors meant nothing; his body either forced its way through or smoked through openings, dissolving and coalescing in ways he didn't understand and spent no time dwelling on. He was consumed instead with the goal of reaching for and pouncing on his next victim, then the next. He caught sounds over the rush of his own blood; a tiny shrill voice here, a male voice there, the howl of hounds released upon him. All of them meant nothing; their teeth could not hurt him now. Their attacks were just pin pricks of lucidity within his fever dream, all dying or cowering before his unbridled wrath. Two dogs were bodily thrown, another bitten in half, still another tossed at a human handler, throwing both dog and man through a wall. He pursued, determined to not let anyone in the house escape. Not this time. Not after this hell month, not after everything--

A drop of water rippled through the chaos of his mind. The scent of the sea filled his nostrils, the sound of whales keened in his ears. Daud stilled, suddenly entranced, and turned his head.

A rune chittered and vibrated and sang on an ensconced shrine. The room was small, perhaps a hidden pantry; it had been revealed when Daud had thrown the body through the wall. Purple cloth fluttered from the disturbance of the crash and used candles scattered about the floor and table.

Someone was sitting on that table, cross-legged: someone lithe, dark, and still holding the ageless beauty of youth. Despite the slim, ethereal frame the person presented, Daud could sense the incredible shadow lurking just out of sight, the leviathan crying from the deep.

The figure smiled, his black, endless eyes glittering. He beckoned, and Daud obeyed. Like a leashed hound, he was irrevocably pulled under the waves, his huge body buckling before the sight of something greater, something far more ancient than he could ever fathom to be. He bowed his giant furred head and cold hands ran over his wounds, calming the persistent itch and smoothing away his month-long fever. Daud whined, giving himself over entirely as the figure held him close, arms embracing him like a long lost lover. The voice in his ears calmed his storm and soothed his pain and called him Home.

"Oh, Daud, beautiful Daud," the man cooed and Daud was enraptured, a whale's cry leaving him like a warbled gasp. The grip tightened on him and suddenly his body was melting away, the fur turning to ash to reveal his human skin underneath. He breathed, his left hand itching pleasantly where the figure held it, the other hand running smooth circles across his shoulders and down his back. Daud looked up into that ancient face and when it smiled, there was no warmth, no stars in those endlessly black eyes.

"I knew you would come back to me, Daud. After all..." the god's smile spread, breaking his face.

"...It was just a matter of time."

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