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damienthepious · 4 years

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i’m not going to apologize for this angst but i am going to say that it has been being built towards for a while and like, it was bound to happen, tbh. tho i am sorry about who precisely gets the worst of it, this chapter. Whoops. anyway happy (?) lizard kissin!

Going Through Changes, Ripping Out Pages (chapter 7)

[ch 1] [ch 2] [ch 3] [ch 4] [ch 5] [ch 6] [ao3] [ch 8] [ch 9] [ch 10] [???]

Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast

Relationship: Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla

Characters: Lord Arum, Sir Damien, Rilla, The Keep

Additional Tags: Second Citadel, Lizard Kissin’ Tuesday, Established Relationship, (uhhhhh sorta), Amnesia, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, (WE WILL GET THERE…… EVENTUALLY)

Summary: Lord Arum wakes to discover that some things have changed while he slept. Namely, there is a human in his bed.

Chapter Summary: No solutions yet, but it's the dead of night, they are exhausted, and at least one of them is attempting to be responsible with their health right now.

Chapter Notes: This one feels pretty heavy. Is it weird for me to admit that I cried a few different times writing this? Anyway. Take care of yourselves, I love you.

Damien swims back to awareness with a rustle of paper and a deep, familiar sigh.

He blinks, stretching his arms above his head with a gasp, and when he sees glossy scales through his bleary blinking he nearly reaches without a second thought-

Nearly. He remembers in time enough to make the motion look only as if it is part of the stretch.

Arum stares at him from a nearby seat, setting aside the books he is holding.

"Kind of you to rejoin us, little knight," he murmurs, his tone blank.

He looks- exhausted, Damien realizes. When he glances to Rilla she doesn't look up from her own reading, though she does quirk her lips into a strained smile, acknowledging him despite her focus. She looks just as harried as the monster, if not more so, a concerning tension in every muscle of her frame.

"How long was I… how late is it?" he asks quietly, and Arum squints for a moment before the Keep gives a gentle answer and the monster frowns more deeply. "Far too late, I think," Damien continues, his suspicions confirmed more by Arum's expression than his dubious understanding of the Keep.

"We've hit a few- a few walls," Rilla says, and her voice is muted and clipped as she lifts a hand to rub at one of her eyes, "but we've been making progress. Got a few hypotheses to test out."

"Bed," Damien says, his voice inarguable. "It's long past time you rested. Your hypotheses will keep until tomorrow, unlike the pair of you."

Rilla sets her jaw for only half a second before her shoulders slump and she nods absently. She sighs, closing the book in front of her. She stands and when Damien steps up beside her she reaches for his hand, and then she glances towards their monster.

"I don't expect we'll be sharing a room tonight," she says, an unexpected brittleness beneath the words, and when Arum blinks Rilla continues quickly. "The Keep should still have my old room tucked away somewhere, anyway. We've done enough tonight that I think we'll be able to make progress with fresh minds in the morning."

"You wish for us to stop working now? We have theories, we could attempt to implement any number of-"

"The last time you ran yourself too ragged you nearly killed yourself and the Keep," Rilla snaps, squeezing Damien's hand almost too hard. "And I don't know about you, Arum, but me? I know for a fact that we're not going to stumble into the right answer on the first try, and I'm way too exhausted to handle another failure right now. If you wanna keep working until you hurt yourself, I can't stop you, but if you want to keep working on this together then you're gonna have to just listen to us and we'll test more theories in the morning."

“But- I-” Arum's jaw clenches, teeth bared, but he looks away from them and after a long moment he sighs, nodding a concession. "Very well. Keep, do you know the room she is referring to?"

The Keep sings a soft reply, pulling out a door, and Rilla's hand tightens on Damien's again, her lips pressing tight together.

"In the morning, then," Arum says, quiet and stilted, and then he gives a very slight bow. "Rest well, humans."

He stares at them for another moment, and then he turns, and the Keep presents him another doorway.

Arum slips through, and then he disappears into the bedroom that should belong to the three of them together.

When the Keep closes the portal behind them, Rilla and Damien don't go to bed immediately. They stand just inside the room and Damien holds his arms open and Rilla sags and flings her arms around him and they just- hold each other, clinging tight for a long time. Feels like minutes, possibly into the double digits, but Rilla's brain is going a little hot and fuzzy at the edges so she can't really trust that her sense of time is working just now. Doesn't matter anyway.

Eventually Damien sighs and loosens his grip, leaning back enough to reach up and brush away the hair that's come loose from her braid, his knuckles soft against her temple, and while his hand is in range she tilts her head to kiss his wrist. He breathes a laugh, his smile going so warm and delighted, and Rilla loves him so fucking fiercely, loves that he can find wonder and joy even at the end of a day like this- loves that he can find it in her, even when she feels-

Even when she feels like well-crumpled trash, honestly.

They undress without speaking, and when they crawl into bed Damien tangles their legs together, tangles their hands together between them, ducking his forehead close against hers and humming lightly as he closes his eyes.

"I feel I should apologize," he says gently, his thumb stroking slowly up and down the back of her hand. "I did not mean to sleep, to leave you to contend with this situation alone yet again-"

"It's fine, Damien." She shakes her head, sighing. "It's probably better that you got some rest. And- and I think he feels less threatened when he only has to deal with one of us at a time, anyway."

"Hm," Damien says, a frown tugging at his lip. "Still. I am glad, at least, that you've come upon some ideas, even if none managed to break the spell quite yet."

Rilla swallows roughly, thinking of how stiff and uncertain Arum's hands felt when they took her own, after their failed kiss. "It's not gonna be an easy spell to break, I don't think," she manages in a whisper, and Damien sighs.

"Perhaps not. But… I believe in you," he says, his forehead pressing against her own, his hands interlocking with her own. "I believe in us, my love. My fear is so very small a thing, when measured beside my love for the both of you, my faith in your brilliance. I believe in you, my Rilla."

Rilla-

It's like glass breaking. The moment the first crack shows, the integrity of the entire facade fails. Shatters. She covers her face with both hands, pressing back against the tears that come as her breath cuts off in ragged little gasps. Damien makes a small surprised noise before he curls his arms around her, gathering her against his chest.

"Oh, oh my flower, oh-"

"I don't know what I'm doing," she chokes as Damien lightly kisses her hair, the pads of his fingers rubbing small soothing circles into her back. "I don't- I don't know if we- what if he never remembers, Damien? What if he's just- gone? We barely even know wh-what happened, not for sure, and if we don't know what the curse is, how can we fix- how can we-"

"Rilla, oh love-"

"Even if we convinced him of the truth it doesn't give him back- it doesn't give any of us back the time we lost! He doesn't remember meeting us, he doesn't remember- we convinced him that we aren't lying but what does that m-matter if he doesn't-"

"Breathe," Damien says, and Rilla tries but every time she tries to slow down her breathing her throat catches sharp and she ends up gasping and choking instead. It hurts, her throat, her eyes, her lungs, and she doesn't know how to make it stop .

"Maybe he falls in love with us again but he doesn't- he didn't- is he even the same Arum that we loved before, then? Is it still him, or- or is this some new Arum and the monster we fell in love with is just- gone? All those little bits of time, all- all the talks and- and the moments of realization and- and- he doesn't know, he can't know how-"

Damien makes a gentle hushing noise, his palms still pressing sturdy into her shoulders beneath the sheets, and she clings to him, curling tight. "We don't know that this is permanent, love. We just don't know. I'm frightened too, but- we cannot give in to despair."

"I thought- I thought if we could remind h-him maybe it would trigger- maybe it would pull something back out but- but nothing is working and he doesn't have the first hint of a memory and I feel so-"

"Rilla-"

"Useless! I'm just useless and the way he looks at us makes me want to scream and I just want him back. I want him back and I don't know how. I should- I should know! I should be able to fix this, I just-"

"It's alright, Rilla, it's-"

"It's not, Damien, it's not alright and I don't know h-how to make it alright again and I-"

"It's alright to feel this way," he insists, and his arms around her squeeze. "You need not always hold yourself so stiffly, my love. It is unfair to expect yourself never to crack. You are allowed to feel this. You are hurting just as I am, scared as I am, and you should not try to bury those feelings for my sake and for his-"

"I- Damien I should- I should be able to fix this, it's my job to know how to fix- why can't I- why can't- Damien I hate not knowing what to do-"

"I know," he murmurs, holding her close and pressing a kiss to her hair. "I know, love. But that does not mean that you are useless, Rilla."

"I feel useless. I feel stupid, Damien, I'm so fucking desperate that I let myself believe that some fairy tale magic was going to work and all it did was make me feel like- like I was kissing the wrong monster and- and like I was betraying- betraying Arum, our Arum-"

"A kiss," Damien murmurs, and Rilla wants to scream for the note of sadness in his voice. He's smart enough- of course he knows exactly what that kiss would be meant to do, and clearly it didn't work. He squeezes her again, sighing into her hair. "I am so, so sorry, my love."

"Sorry for what, Damien? That I let myself fall for some magic potion bullshit when I should have been focusing on real solutions? That I can't shake the feeling that maybe I just wanted to kiss him one last time in case we never fix this-" her throat tightens, her breath shuddering as her tone wobbles out of her own control, "and what if that's why it didn't work? I didn't do it right, didn't say the right things, didn't- or- or if it's a true love thing, what if I'm just not- not-"

"Oh, Rilla-"

"Not enough, or- or maybe it would only work if we were both monsters, or-"

"Speculation without data is unhelpful at best," Damien says dutifully, and Rilla gusts a breath against his shoulder, almost a laugh, surprised to hear her own words echoed back to her. "We simply do not know, and you are only hurting your own heart by saying and thinking such things. You hoped, and that hope did not bear out. You cannot judge yourself lacking for this. You cannot judge yourself useless or - Saints forbid - stupid. Nothing in the world could possibly be further from the truth. Certainly you know that, deep down."

Rilla sags in his arms, her nose pressing against the side of his neck, her cheeks wet enough that she knows she must be crying on him too. "I'm just- it's only been a day and I'm already- I don't know how to do this, Damien. I don't-"

"Is all this- noise really necessary?"

Rilla jolts, inhaling sharply, but hearing Arum still sounding so distant and uncomfortable makes the ache in her chest even worse , makes the uncontrolled hitching of her breath even harder to push down, and she buries her face against Damien's collarbone, trying to stifle as much of it as she can.

"We did not mean to wake you," Damien says quietly, and Rilla shakes in his arms, clenching her jaw tight and squeezing her eyes closed to try to control the tears.

"I was not sleeping," Arum grumbles, unmoving in the threshold of his summoned portal , his claws curling awkwardly against the vines. "Cannot seem to…" he shakes his head. "You are not- injured, correct?"

"No," Damien says, stroking Rilla's hair as she presses against him and tries to breathe more normally. "No, Lord Arum. It has simply been… emotionally taxing, for the both of us."

"I… suppose… I suppose that is to be… expected," he mutters, looking away, and then his eyes flick back towards them again, the uncertainty on his face so clear that he may as well be screaming it. "I… are you…" he pauses, then looks away again with his claws flexing awkwardly. "Are you having difficulty finding sleep, then?"

Rilla clenches her teeth tighter, hisses between them at the stupidity of the question because of course-

"Unfortunately, yes, Lord Arum," Damien says, far more gently, one of his hands still drawing through her hair, and she presses her forehead against his shoulder harder. "And you as well?"

"I-" Arum snaps his teeth together, sighs, and looks down at the ground. "Cannot seem to… it is too cold, tonight, I think," he mutters. He pauses in the doorway, one hand clutched on the frame, clearly tense, his tongue flicking anxiously before he continues. "We-" he pauses again, barely managing the entire word before he has to look away again. "You implied- S- Damien. You implied that we- we rest, together?"

"Most nights, when we can," Damien says, his tone very carefully neutral though Rilla can feel the way he deflates at the question, the slight edge of despair in his words. "Yes."

"So the pair of you would be… accustomed to my presence in your bed," he says slowly.

"Our presence in your bed, when we are here," Damien amends, but Rilla tenses further, pulling herself out of Damien's arms so she can sit upright, swiping a hand quickly over her face to diffuse the tears before she levels a glare at the monster in the doorway.

"You wanna interrogate this now?" she asks in a sour, biting voice. "We slept with our Arum. You don't even know who we are. You don’t love us and we all know it, so why don't you just let us wallow in peace? I'll try to cry a little quieter so we don't disturb your beauty sleep next time-"

"Rilla," Damien says, chastising and gentle, and Rilla shakes her head. Arum doesn't move, doesn't respond to her furious words except to duck his head very, very slightly. "We are all exhausted, all frustrated, all well beyond our depths. And..." he sits up to match her, lifting a hand to tilt her face towards him as she stubbornly closes her eyes again. "My love, I do not believe that your anger is truly directed at him."

Damien's hands on her face are soft, steady, comforting. They always are, he always knows when she needs- he always knows how to-

If she had to do all this alone, deal with all of this on her own- Rilla doesn't know if she could. She doesn't know if she'd be able to make the anger and the fear small enough that she could work through them, if she didn't have Damien here, if she didn't have someone here who knew her so well, who knew how to hold her. If she didn't have someone to have her back.

We have each other, she thinks, a little fury still biting at the edges. Arum? What does Arum have?

Arum has the Keep, at least-

But Arum and the Keep have always been entirely on the same page. Each knows what the other is thinking, always. Except now, the Keep is a full year of knowledge away from its familiar, and Arum is-

Arum, even with the three of them here with him, is probably feeling more alone than he ever has in his life.

Rilla inhales, exhales a sigh, and when she opens her eyes she lifts a hand to grip Damien's for a moment before she meets Arum's eyes again.

"I'm- I'm sorry," she says, and the monster blinks. "This isn't your fault, obviously. I know- I know it isn't-" she clenches her teeth for a moment, forcing herself to keep the damned tears in her eyes where they belong, and then she sighs. "I'm sorry."

Arum stares at her, unsure, and then he drops his gaze. "I was certainly cruel enough to the both of you in my own distress," he mutters. "If I called us even for such a mild bite, I would be overplaying your hand and underplaying my own. I-" he swallows, wincing, and Rilla knows- she knows the exact tone he's about to take when he- "I … apologize, as well. Both our angers were… misdirected, as Sir Damien implied. In the morning we shall aim our ire towards its proper recipient, I think."

Rilla bites back a laugh, if only because she's not really sure she'll be able to keep it from choking into sobs again.

"Yeah," she says, low and forced to evenness. "Yeah, that sounds like- like a plan."

Arum glances up at the both of them again, hesitant, and he stares for another long moment before his shoulders hunch and he half turns in the doorway. "I- I should… leave you be, then. I did not mean to distress you further."

She feels Damien's arms around her tremble, just for a moment, and then he says, "Of course. We- we shall see you in the morning, then, Lord Arum."

She knows what Damien wants, even if it'll sting. She wants the same exact thing. And Arum-

She'd rather have him here than send him off to sleep all alone, even if it hurts.

"Unless-" she cuts herself off, still feeling stupid, but Arum hesitates in the doorway, and she thinks she can just barely catch a hint of- of relief in his eyes, behind the familiar wariness.

"Unless?" he echoes quietly, his face guarded now, his claws scratching lightly along the edge of the portal.

The thing is, Rilla knows him too well to ask if he wants to stay. When they first met, when they first started together- he'd never admit anything like that, even if it were obvious that he wanted something. Especially if it was obvious that he wanted something, in fact. So-

"Would it be- would it be too weird if we asked you to stay?" she tries, and Damien inhales sharply in surprise. "You- you said you're too cold. You may not remember, but- but your body is used to- well, it's used to a bit more ambient nighttime heat than you remember right now, I think." She pauses, swallows. "Or- I mean, I'm sure the Keep could just- up the temperature in your bedroom or something, but-"

"I'll stay," he interrupts, too quick, and then he shakes his head. "It- I- it is far too strange, knowing you are sleeping under my roof without- without keeping an eye on you."

It's so obvious a lie that Rilla almost wants to laugh again. Instead she sniffles, lifting a hand to rub her eye, and then she tugs lightly at Damien's shoulder, laying the both of them back down. "Okay," she murmurs, because she can't think well enough right now to respond in any sort of clever way. She's exhausted. "Good. That's- that's good."

They way they're laying, Damien has his back to the monster as he slinks hesitantly to the side of their bed. Arum can't see the way that Damien presses his eyes more tightly closed, the way he bites his lip a little too hard. Rilla can see, though, in the brief moment before the portal at Arum's back closes, dropping them back into fuller darkness.

She slips her arms around Damien, tugging him closer. "Scoot, Damien. Make room," she murmurs, and he glances up with a grateful half-smile. He tucks himself closer against her side, resting his cheek on her shoulder and pressing a quick light kiss to her neck before he sighs, closing his eyes again as the blankets shift.

Arum grips the edge of the sheet for a long moment before he rattles out a frustrated noise and slips beneath the covers with a grumble, keeping his body considerable deliberate inches away from their own. "I-" he pauses, lowers his voice even further into nearly a growl. "I cannot say if I will be able to rest with someone else in-" he stops himself again, and then he sighs, and Rilla can feel him settling. She wonders if it's more the warmth or the exhaustion dragging him down, just now, because it certainly isn't them . "Well. It does not matter. It is not as if I was sleeping anyway," he mutters, and then she watches the dim reflection of the moonlight in Arum's predator eyeshine as he stares back at her in return.

She closes her eyes before the feeling in her chest gets too big to bury again, holding Damien in her arms and settling closer, grateful for her exhaustion if only because she's too tired to completely process how horrible it should feel to have Arum so close and so distant at the same time.

"Goodnight, my love," Damien whispers in her arms, and Rilla squeezes him tighter because she knows the waver he's hiding in the whisper, knows that he's not talking only to her.

"Goodnight," she replies in the lightest gust of a breath, and from his place beside them, still not touching them, Arum says nothing at all.

[->]

#elle's fanfic #the penumbra podcast #second citadel #rad bouquet #lizard kissin' tuesday #sir damien #lord arum #amaryllis of exile #going through changes ripping out pages #ARGHHHHHHH

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aliceslantern · 4 years

Text

Heartlines, a Kingdom Hearts fanfic, chapter 9--New Friends, Old Enemy

Twelve years ago, Xemnas betrayed the royal court of Radiant Garden to his father, Xehanort. Prince Ienzo flees to another city and begins university in the aftermath, hoping the anonymity will protect him from eager eyes with ill intent. The darkness spilling across the country, as well as an individual from his past, cut short Ienzo's new beginning and bring new conflicts to light. Strained between the desires of his magic and his heart, Ienzo's choice will change him forever.

Modern Fantasy AU, Soulmates, Zemyx. Updates Fridays until it's done.

Chapter summary: Ienzo goes out with Demyx and his friends, only to run into an old adversary.

Read it on FF.net/on AO3

---

As Ienzo went home, he marveled over the strangeness he felt. His senses still were raw, almost painfully so; the noise of the crowded streetcar gave him a headache. He wondered if he were somewhat in shock. He didn’t believe in virginity, but this was definitely a life-before and a life-after situation. Then again, it had been ever since he’d met Demyx here.

He went home. It was still a decent hour, so Even did not accost him as he was wont to do. He showered and noted that beneath his sweater Demyx had left him with some decently-violet hickies. Ienzo sighed and healed them away. He did some homework, some light reading of his own. When he finally slept, it was like the dead.

Ienzo dreamt.

He dreamt of water and drowning and the feeling of being saved. He dreamt of his father and Braig and Even, of bittersweet memories before he knew they were bittersweet. Despite it all… Ienzo missed them.

When he woke, he blinked the requisite tears out of his eyes. Demyx had texted him a few times.

Good morning [eyes emoji] happy Friday. Say, a bunch of us were going to go out later, want to come?

He smiled a little. I would, but I’m only twenty.

No need to worry. Drinking age here is only 18. You’re not getting out of this one. [wink] Besides, what if I want to show you off?

What is there to show off?

Har har. Anyway, you in?

He wondered if Even would be pleased he had made friends, or worried for his safety if alcohol was involved. And crowds… he felt a surge of nerves despite himself. I’ll try. Why not? The alternative was spending another evening reading by himself, alone. Demyx would magically protect him, and he could handle the rest.

Ienzo got ready for his day and went to get some breakfast. “You’re alright?” Even asked.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

He shook his head a little. He looked somewhat frazzled; his hair was unbrushed, his shirt wrinkled. “I suppose you’re right. I… you ran out the other night, child. We haven’t spoken since.”

“You were never one for small talk,” Ienzo muttered, pouring himself some coffee. “If you must know. I’m angry. What else are you keeping from me, Even?”

He leaned against the counter. “Nothing of any significance. That was… it.”

“When were you going to tell me?”

“I was going to wait until you were fully of age. Fate had other plans.”

“What would you have done if we had run into him before?”

He shut his eyes for a moment. “Eaten my share of crow.”

Ienzo looked into his bowl of cereal. “When will you realize I’m not a child?”

Even reached over and took his hand; the touch startled him. “You are… right . But I’ve… we’ve been doing this for so long. I’ve seen you grow up, raised you, and yet… I worry for you, Ienzo. This is a tempestuous world enough to be in even were you not… a prince. I wanted you to have a good life… but when that was not possible, keeping you alive was good enough.”

“But you understand why I am so frustrated? You wax poetic about my brilliance, yet you will hardly let me make my own decisions… limited as they are.”

“I… understand.”

“I hope you do.” He exhaled. “I will be going out with friends this evening. Just so you know.”

Ienzo could see the amount of restraint it took for Even to merely say, “Alright. He will be with you… the boy?”

“Yes.”

“I… see. How do you feel about that?”

Ienzo dropped his eyes. He hoped Even didn’t have some way to sense what had happened between them yesterday. “It is very strange,” he admitted. “We’re strangers… yet I feel so compelled. On the one hand, I wished we could’ve met organically. On the other… the magic tells me this is right, so who am I if I do not listen to it? I feel… safe. Which I suppose is the point.”

“Let me meet him,” Even said. “All this time… and I’ve no idea who he is.”

“Perhaps after tonight.”

“Right. I see.” Even leaned against one palm.

“Are you alright? When was the last time you left this house?”

“There are… affairs I am dealing with,” Even said. “Nothing to worry about.” Off Ienzo’s expression, “I will tell you if there’s anything of major import.”

“Please get some sleep… and some fresh air,” Ienzo said. “You can’t fret over me if you’re unwell yourself.”

A small smile. “Very well, Ienzo.”

After this, class was uneventful. Ienzo was amazed at how little effort it took for him to get an excellent grade. He desired more of a challenge. This wasn’t one of the days where he had Demyx’s class, so he merely kept himself occupied until the morning was over.

Waiting for him outside of the lecture hall was Riku, of all people. Ienzo frowned. “Have you been following me?”

“I asked for your schedule from Demyx. He’s been moping around like a lovesick puppy.” He ruffled his long silver hair. “Hungry?”

They got sandwiches and sat in a small booth in one of the campus eateries. “You do strike me as a motley pair,” Ienzo admitted.

“So do you,” Riku pointed out. “Soulmate bullshit, right?”

Ienzo tensed.

“It’s alright. I’m muffling what we’re saying.”

He sighed. “...Quite,” he said. “It’s been… odd, to say the least.”

“I bet.”

There was a moment of silence. Riku crossed his arms. Finally, Ienzo said quietly, “I plan on going to the resistance myself. I have… a contact. If you wish to go with me, that’s your choice.”

A wry smile. “That’s what I’m talking about.”

“Who are you, Riku?”

“A person of no importance. Not really. I was just lucky enough to end up with the genes that caused this .” He touched a strand of his hair.

Ienzo blinked. A magic user born to non-magic parents was very rare indeed; the other way around was much more common. He chuckled a little. “Lucky.”

“...Besides. Demyx was taken in by my aunt. It’s kind of… personal.”

“You’re family? That’s not what he told me.”

Riku shrugged. “There was a falling out between our parents a few years ago. And we were never close. But we… have to stick together. He acts like camouflage.”

“...Yes.” He swallowed. “Did he tell you… who bound us? And who I am?”

“...I have my suspicions,” Riku admitted. “You’re powerful, and if you were bound you have to be important.” He waved a hand vaguely. “But I can also see that you don’t trust me, and I can’t blame you for that.”

Ienzo nodded slowly.

“Look, I may come off as… ambivalent, towards Demyx, but if he ends up hurt--”

Ienzo locked eyes with him. “I do not want that either.”

Riku bobbed his head once. “Is it weird? Falling in love instantly?”

“I suppose I wouldn’t know the difference,” Ienzo admitted. “But yes, it is strange. On one level we are strangers. On another… we’re not. I could not tell you his favorite color, or his ambitions, or his philosophy on life… yet I feel as though I do know him. It’s all… very aqueous.”

Riku laughed a little; it had almost no sound to it. “It’s a trip and a half. You know, I… helped him find out who he is.”

“You mean that he’s a seeker?”

“We were both kind of going through it. The second I hit puberty I was bleeding magic and attracting bad guys, and when we were together, it… stopped. So we did our own research.”

“I presume it wasn’t that easy.”

“Well no, of course not. We ended up breaking into the mayor’s library--that’s a story for another day. Ever since the seekers were hunted… it was all hush-hush, like they never were in the first place.”

“Oh, propaganda. I know it well.” He stabbed the last few remaining leaves of his salad absently. “Believe me.”

Riku’s lip quirked. “I can’t just lay back anymore and let this happen.”

“Me, either. Besides, I think the resistance can take as many warm bodies as are willing.”

“Then it’s a good thing I know a few people.” A mischievous smile.

“...Oh?”

“Let’s just say you’ll meet them tonight.” He picked up his empty clamshell container. “Be seeing you. Though I gotta say--you don’t seem the clubbing type.”

Ienzo thought the same, but he added, “I’m full of surprises.”

“I’m sure you are,” Riku said, without turning back, and Ienzo felt the ward he’d put dissipating, sound returning to normal volume.

---

Later that evening, Ienzo got ready. He’d been told by Demyx that they were going to a blacklight party at the local club--aptly titled Seventh Heaven--and bright colors or white would work best. He thought he would feel more nervous, but knowing Demyx would be there soothed him. Surprising--yet not--how quickly he’d become accustomed to their link. He chose a white pullover. As he picked up yesterday’s pants to throw in the hamper, the pendant thumped loudly onto the floor. He took it into his hand.

At this point there was no denying it.

It was small, but felt weighty around his throat. It had a chain, and a clasp, unlike Demyx’s, perhaps put there after the fact. Twine was not fit for a prince. Ienzo tucked it into his shirt, and stared at it for a moment, trying to see if it were visible from the outside.

He took the streetcar over to Demyx’s, where they were going to “pregame”. Ienzo did not intend on drinking much, if at all; he’d never had much of a taste for it, whenever Even allowed him to have wine with dinner. But partying like this was supposedly normal.

The door was open before he could even knock. “Zo! Hey!” A set of string lights had been hung, and some pop music played idly. Demyx leaned in to kiss him once on the lips. He was wearing a bright green T-shirt that physically hurt to look at.

“Oh, that is lurid ,” Ienzo muttered.

“Ugh, Riku said the same thing.” He pulled at the hem. “Should I change?”

“Do you have anything a little less obnoxious?”

“That is a… good question. Help me pick?”

Ienzo could do little more than wave at the other people in the apartment before he was led back. But Demyx didn’t do anything other than open his dresser and start pulling out shirts. In the weeks Ienzo had known him, he hadn’t really worn anything out of the ordinary--plaid, simple graphic Ts, jeans. But these shirts were a little more… extravagant; Hawaiian prints, checkers, all sorts of colors, a button-down with pineapples. “Were you being conservative for little old me?” he asked innocently.

Demyx flushed. “Hey! I’m a TA, I have to look the part!”

“With that hair?”

He laughed. “Quit razzing me.”

Ienzo smirked. He realized they’d never actually gotten a chance to flirt; it felt good. “If you’re going for color, I’d say that one.” He gestured to the pineapple shirt.

Quite unembarrassed, Demyx pulled off the shirt he was wearing. Ienzo realized he hadn’t actually gotten a good look at him before; he felt the blood rush to his face. “Ta da,” Demyx said, with a flourish.

“Yellow is a good color on you,” Ienzo said lamely.

“Yeah, I’ve been told.” Demyx turned to the mirror and gave his hair one more fluff. “Alright. Let’s have some drinks. But first--”

Ienzo leaned in to kiss him; for a moment they were lost in each other before he found the willpower to pull away. “I’d hate for people to get the wrong impression of me,” he said. “Right. Let’s get drunk.”

“Now we’re talking!”

The people in the apartment’s small living room were more or less the same ones Ienzo had met that afternoon at lunch; along with two others, a boy and girl he did not recognize. The girl leapt up. She was petite, thin, her red hair curled around her small face. “You must be Ienzo,” she said. “Hi. I’m Kairi. This is my boyfriend Sora.” They both had painfully blue eyes, such a distinct blue that Ienzo felt a spark of recognition. Not of either of them, but of what that color meant. He smiled pleasantly, shook their hands. He locked eyes with Riku, preparing a drink on the counter; the man nodded once. “I love your hair,” she added, as if this were not hint enough.

“I know, right?” Yuffie said cheerfully. “He says it was an accident, but come on.” To his shock, she came up and lifted a strand of his bangs. “ Look at this.”

“Please do not touch me,” Ienzo said.

She stuck her tongue out. “Alright, relax.”

“Ienzo. You having?” Riku asked, gesturing to the concoction he was mixing.

He exhaled. Maybe it would be good to lose some of this edge. “Please.”

He found himself getting pleasantly buzzed with them. He’d never had hard alcohol before, and to his surprise he found he liked the harsh taste of it. It did strange things to his magic, which Demyx was thankfully able to pacify; Ienzo felt as though the world were quite loud. He was on the verge of peeking into everyone’s thoughts. He decided he would pry more about Sora and Kairi’s origins when he was sober again, and instead found himself chatting. Ienzo was surprised at the amount of words he was holding in, his intense and unrealized desire for human contact. Around ten, they headed out to the club.

Demyx slid an arm around his waist. “You okay?” he asked, whisper close. “I know this is all new to you.”

“Oh--yes,” Ienzo said. Everything was a bit distant, a bit foggy, a bit heavy , and he realized that “I think I may be drunk.”

Demyx smiled. “I think so too. But do you feel… okay? Would you rather go back?”

Ienzo considered. He squinted. “I feel good,” he said, barely conscious of the words.

"Good. That's what matters." There was already a line of partygoers waiting outside, but they were waived in by the bouncer. "Riku knows the bartender," Demyx explained.

"Riku is awfully well connected."

"He makes it work."

Inside, the blacklights made everything glow. Demyx touched Ienzo's hair. "It's just the UV," Ienzo said. "You have it too."

The music was loud, almost painfully so, playing some kind of techno. The others sought out drinks, but Demyx took Ienzo and led him to the dance floor.

"I don't dance," Ienzo said quickly.

"Come on, Zo. Try for me?"

And it was definitely the alcohol, but he said, "alright."

How odd this all was.

It took him a few minutes to fully succumb to the music, but it helped to have Demyx's hands on his waist. He found he was having fun , drunk in this place with awful music and glowing people. Ienzo pulled him into a kiss, one that tasted like the whiskey gingers they'd had, and for a moment everything seemed to stop. Too soon, Demyx pulled away. "I like your style, but we are in public," he said into Ienzo's ear.

They kept dancing for what seemed to be a long time, until Ienzo was gasping for breath and sweaty and laughing. He felt like he'd never had fun before, not like this. Maybe he was a clubbing person. "I'm so thirsty," he said. "Let's get another drink." They waded over to the bar. Blurrily, he saw that according to the clock it was midnight. "The witching hour."

Demyx pecked his cheek. "Water, for you, before you drink more."

Ienzo took it without complaint, even though it tasted vaguely of chlorine.

"New… friend, of yours, Demyx?" The bartender asked. He had a shorn blond scalp and a goatee, and a strange accent.

"Oh! Right. Luxord, this is my boyfriend, Ienzo. Ienzo, Luxord."

"This is the friend of Riku's?" Ienzo asked.

"Correct." With an impeccably graceful motion, he poured out two drinks which only glowed further under the light. When Ienzo reached for his wallet, he just said, "on the house. Don't worry about it." With a wink.

Ienzo did not know what to read into this gesture--was it friendliness, flirting, or something else? But the thought was shaken quickly. The drink was delicious--sweet and tart, yet bringing out the flavor of whatever alcohol was in it. Moreover, it was strong enough to make Ienzo shudder, and he wondered if he should sober himself with his power.

Demyx made a face. "Yeah, I should've warned you. Luxord's drinks can knock you flat."

Already Ienzo felt things getting less distinct, and he couldn't finish it. Instead, he asked for more water. They returned to the dance floor, finding Riku and the others at last; Lea and Roxas were jokingly engaged in some sort of tango, and Riku had Sora in his arms like he had no care in the world. Kairi did not seem to care; in fact, she was smiling. When she saw Ienzo, she offered her hands. "Dance with me?"

He looked towards Demyx, who just shrugged. So he took her hands. It was very clearly platonic. "So the three of you are a thing, then?" He asked, drunk enough to lose tact.

"Oh, yeah. I thought you knew that." They swayed together for a moment. "Demyx has been so happy since he met you."

Because it was magically predetermined, Ienzo nearly said. "Oh?"

An eager nod. "He was always, like, complaining nothing he ever had was genuine." She smiled, the light doing weird things to her teeth. "I'm so glad to see you again, Ienzo. You have no idea."

Ienzo felt dizzy. "...Again?"

She leaned in a little. "Oh, come on. I know you were just pretending to meet me at the apartment, for the others' sake." Then, at his baffled expression. "You do remember, don't you?"

The dizziness was worsening. Through his drunk haze, he thought he did, when she was smaller, just a girl--for some reason, Ienzo looked up into the crowd, and saw a man with distinctly blue hair darting out one of the exits. "Excuse me," he said, and left her without a word. He pushed through the throng of dancers, his anxiety inflating unchecked, making it at last. But when he faced the open courtyard, all he saw were ordinary people, smoking and talking where it was quieter.

"Hey! Zo, what's up?" Demyx was breathless.

"I saw him," Ienzo murmured.

"Saw who? "

"He was here, I swear."

Demyx put a hand on his shoulder. "I think you just drank a little too much. Why don't you sit down?"

He was nauseous now. "I think instead I… need a restroom."

"There's one right over there." Demyx gestured to a door at the corner of the courtyard. "I'll wait right here."

Thankfully, there was no line, and though he felt horrible doing so, he crouched on the dirty floor and threw up. He took a deep breath, pulled at his magic, and made himself sick again, all his drunkenness washing away. Suddenly sober, this whole experience was much less appealing.

He was positive he'd seen Saïx. How had the man found him? Ienzo splashed water on his face. Even with Demyx's protection? Had the man's enhancements allowed him to poke through that? Else one of Demyx's friends or anyone at the university had figured it out--

A knock at the door. "I gotta pee," someone slurred.

"Just a moment." He splashed cold water on his face, masked his glowing hair with an illusion. He walked back to Demyx wearily.

"You alright?" He asked. Ienzo could see now that he was wrecked.

"Got a bit overheated," he said. "I know it isn't that late… but can we go home?"

Demyx blinked disjointedly. "Too late for you to go home on your own," he mumbled. "Stay over."

He had a point--if Saïx were around, heading their separate ways was a bad idea. "...Alright."

After the heat of the club, the streets were mercifully cool. They took one of the last streetcars of the evening back towards Demyx's apartment; blearily, Demyx gave him the keys, too drunk to do it himself. Ienzo eased him into his bed; he fell asleep instantly. Ienzo slid off his sweaty clothing, and pulled on one of Demyx's shirts--he doubted he would care. Besides, his scent helped ease the fear that had overtaken him. He lay down on the double bed; Demyx mumbled something incoherent and looped an arm around his waist, pulling him close.

Between Demyx and his own exhaustion, Ienzo was surprised to find himself drifting off.

#heartlines #ienzo #demyx #zemyx #riku #even (kingdom hearts)#kairi #sora #yuffie #luxord #ienzo is trans

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erasethedarkness · 5 years

Text

Day 1 | Catching A Cold / “You’re cold, aren’t you?”

Summary: The first in depth meeting between Eraser Head and the new Pro Hero from America! Even though the two of you crossed paths often during nightly patrols, this was the first time you responded to an emergency together. Afterwards, a small surprise catches you off guard as the Erasure Hero ignites a subtle affection in your feelings towards him.

Reminder: I will be writing the prompts to occur chronologically! They are all going to be Aizawa x the same f!Reader established in Day 1’s prompt.

Sorry if this first post seems a little too long or dragged! I wanted to establish background information.

@mha-xmas-challenge

“Aren’t you going to be cold going out like that?” one of the sidekicks asked, accompanying you on patrol since you were still fairly new to the Tokyo area.

“Psshhtt, nah! This feels nice. This was my ideal weather back in the States.” You waved your hand, brushing away the concern with a jovial laugh.

As an American, you were used to chilly weather. You were used to crisp autumns and frigid winters, so the fact that it was still in the 40s (fahrenheit) in Japan delighted you, despite it being early December. Just about every other hero switched into their winter costume variants, but you didn’t see the need to. It wasn’t like your costume was the most revealing thing ever; your bodysuit was flattering with a small hint of seduction, rather than seductive with a small hint of flattering, and even with bared skin, it was still entirely functional. Besides, your winter variant would just make you too warm since it was designed for temperatures at least 20 degrees cooler.

You patrolled through your designated district as the last rays of sunlight were devoured by the rising moon. Slowly but surely, you were getting more and more familiar with the various districts and neighborhoods of Tokyo, the city dwarfing the largest U.S. city by nearly double. While your patrol was just beginning, your companion’s was coming to an end, the overlap to help you familiarize yourself with the area. When they left, you took to the rooftops, preferring to maintain an aerial view of the area unless you were needed on the ground.

Tokyo’s lights illuminated the wards, and even from above, you struggled to see the stars in their full vibrance. The full moon’s brilliance joined with the light pollution, making it one of the brightest nights you’ve seen in Japan so far. Your attention sharpened to focus on the world below you, eyes scanning streets and alleyways, glimpsing at faces, discerning expressions in case something wasn’t quite right. With a slow and steady breath, you were near silent, listening to the city that never slept.

But then there was the only hero who was ever actually silent. You didn’t hear him or see him, and you just barely felt the way the air moved when he came to join you. By the time you turned your head to look for him, Eraser Head was already crouched beside you, looking where your eyes previously stared. His capture weapon was loose and somewhat flowy, and his yellow goggles still laid around his neck.

“You haven’t changed into your winter costume, Eraser?” you asked, looking back to the city. You were used to him randomly joining you during your patrols; your areas always seemed to overlap at one point or another during the night. The first time he surprised you, you actually fell off of the rooftop and he caught you with his scarf, saying that would be the only time he’d save you from falling in those circumstances. ‘You should always be aware of your immediate surroundings, even when you’re focused on the streets below,’ he chided you, like you weren’t a pro hero yourself.

With a small exhale, he turned his head to look at you, an eyebrow just barely raised to create an expression that asked you, ‘Really? Do you not see what I wear everyday?’ Seconds later, his eyes were navigated away from you. You tittered softly and just smiled to yourself, bemused by his fairly consistent presence despite his aloof demeanor.

For some time, you both remained perched on the rooftop, eyes following different lines along the ground. You stood up after a while, satisfied with the area until you’d loop back to it later in your patrol. Eraser Head’s scarf wrapped around your wrist as you turned away from him, and he guided you back down. Your breath caught in your chest, held for a moment while you wondered if this was it- was he finally making a move? You blushed and damned the moon for shining so brightly, certain he would notice it. He seemed to notice everything, so you quickly turned your head, arm raised and sneezed into your elbow.

Of course, that didn’t stop him from noticing your blush, because he certainly did. You saw the flash of his teeth as he grinned and heard the softest, amused exhale following it. He directed your eyes with a point, and while you looked, you could feel that he wasn’t looking there with you. No, his eyes were on you, taking in your profile and the silhouette you made against the moon.

“What-”

You were cut off by his bound forward, leading you where he was pointing. “God damn it,” you cursed yourself for being stunned by him, sniffled, and then chased him in eager pursuit, your quirk helping you catch up effortlessly. As you raced alongside him to the destination, you heard it.

A squeal of wheels and then a shriek pierced through the white noise of the city, followed by the sound of hard and heavy running footsteps. Right on the heels of the clamor, the blare of a car alarm started. You chanced to see that his goggles were up and his scarf flared as you both darted to the commotion; he was more than ready for this- and you were too.

Within minutes of your arrivals to the scene, everything was taken care of. God, the way Eraser Head moved was so damn fluid, and this was the first time you actually got to see him in action. You knew about his quirk, but seeing him use it was an entirely different thing. His martial combat skills were beyond impressive and you wondered why the hell he bothered joining you now and then, or why he even pointed this out to you. Was he trying to help you out? Because clearly he didn’t need any help of his own. He could have easily taken care of this without your help, but… you did have to admit it was actually kind of nice working with him. It was so effortless, and while you would have expected to get into each other’s ways, that didn’t happen at all. You two ended up with your backs towards each other more often than not, covering each other as opposed to getting in the way.

He may not have noticed it, but being so physically close to you was helping him. Your secondary quirk, Augmentation, allowed you to adjust someone else’s quirk- you could make it better or worse within the limits of your understanding their quirk. Since you knew that his quirk’s effects ended when he blinked, you made it so that they didn’t. It was a small adjustment, but it made the difference between a person noticing and taking advantage of that moment when his hair fell back to his shoulders. It was a mostly passive quirk that had a radius centered on you, and it only applied to the people who weren’t hostile towards you and whose quirks you understood. A part of it worked off of your feelings, as well; it generally helped the people you wanted to help, and burdened those you did not.

As the police drove away with their villain and minions apprehended, you shivered slightly. The small sweat you built up from the fight chilled you, and you absentmindedly pulled yourself inward, hand subconsciously rubbing your forearm.

And of course he noticed.

“You’re cold, aren’t you?” Eraser Head asked you as you both walked along the street.

“What? Pfft. No, I’m fine.” You brushed him off and boosted yourself back to the rooftops with your quirk, half running from him to avoid the topic. You sniffled once you landed, sighing afterwards and hoping he wouldn’t pursue. Without waiting for him, you began your patrol again, and were left alone.

Hours passed, and the night remained fairly quiet- save for a little bit of sniffling and sneezing here and there. It must’ve just been something in the Tokyo air. There was no way you were getting sick or anything. Right? Not when it was still so warm out. It couldn’t be.

That barely noticeable breeze picked up again, and suddenly he was behind you. You spun around and immediately took a sweater to the face, catching it in your arms reflexively. “What the hell, d-” you began, your American side showing just a little bit more than usual as you were about to confront him, holding the sweater up with a fist and looking insulted. That was before you caught a glimpse of what looked like a cat face from the moonlight. Not just one, either. No, this wasn't just a plain black sweater, it was one with a black and dark gray cat print that went fully around in adorable rows of cats. Neverending cats. Your expression softened and you brought the sweater back to yourself, a flustered blush coming to your cheeks.

“I said I was f… f.. f-” You whipped your head away and caught another sneeze in the crook of your elbow.

“Just put it on for now,” he ordered with what sounded like an annoyed sigh, looking from you to the streets below and not letting you finish your sentence. “You’ve already caught a cold, but that’s not enough reason to send you home from patrol.” His voice was different. It was softer, without that hard edge that accompanied his standoffish behavior.

“...Yeah..” You finally caved, awestruck by the pro hero. You pulled the sweater over your head, letting it cover your costume. It was slightly too big for you, and went down just past your rear so it looked like you were just wearing a sweater with leggings. There was a soft scent that lingered in the fibers- something like a soothing detergent or softener mixed with whoever last wore it. It wasn’t something he just randomly picked up. Was it his?

“Thank you, Eraser Head.”

There was a small pause before he looked up to you, the moon highlighting your cheeks and the outline of your hair. He could see the soft smile that stained your lips- and you saw one on his just before he turned his head away.

“Aizawa.”

Your smile grew and your blush calmed, but remained on your cheeks with a dull warmth that you couldn’t ignore. “Thank you, Aizawa.”

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stunudo · 7 years

Photo

Teamwork Makes the Dream Work:

A Criminal Minds Fan-fiction Case 1 Part B

Featuring: Female Reader as she joins the Team

Setting: Early Season 12 Beginning

A/N: This is a piece about how someone with some quirks fits into the BAU. xoxo Stu

Your name: submit What is this?

They had a jet! She was a gorgeous example of engineering and simple luxury.

“Shiny! How can you fly commercial after using this beauty?” Your approving eyes were flitting through all of the leg room. Alvez and Jareau snickered behind you. You continued inside, quickly counting seats. You didn’t have to sit next to anyone! There were plenty of buffer seats for everyone.

You hummed pleasantly as you found a window seat towards the back. The relief of personal space made you almost forget the embarrassment of the morning. Rossi sat down opposite you, watching you observe the workers on the sides of the runway. His reputation was one of the most noteworthy on the team. But you always held personal interactions above gossip and, even, bureau legends.

“The jet is possibly my favorite addition to the team.” Rossi stated, “Just don’t tell the kids, they’ll be jealous.” He added in a mock whisper.

“Good to know, I would hate to have to live up to all she has done.” You teased. “Penny says you have quite the games collection.”

Rossi smirked, “Does she? Well, that’s it, all of my mysteries have already been revealed.”

Hotch was last on the plane, he sat beside Rossi with his tablet at the ready. “Garcia, what did you find?”

“Sir, sirs and sisters too! Waupaca County Sheriff just got word that state troopers located Abigail Brown’s car in, or near rather Pelican Lake.”

“That expands the comfort zone. It is 93 miles from her last known location.” Spencer jumped into the conversation, leaning down to speak to Garcia over Hotch’s shoulder.

“Alright, Rossi take Alvez to the victim’s car. JJ, I want you to take Y/L/N and Reid to the parents’ house near Waupaca. Lewis and I will coordinate with the locals. We will have rental vehicles, please behave with them.” Hotch emphasized, which made you wonder who was in trouble with “dad” for reckless driving in the past.

“For now, rest up. We have two hours in the air and another hour, hour plus on the road.” Hotch thanked Garcia and the team dispersed to different corners of the jet. You slid your earbuds in, picking up where Simon Pegg’s voice had left you giggling last.

The plane landed on a small airstrip in Oshkosh, WI located on the same campus as the world famous EAA Aviation Museum. The clear skies and bird’s eye view had left a beautiful impression of the surrounding lakes and towns. You waited in your seat to be the last off of the jet, so as not to have anyone behind and not to slow anyone down.

The stiffness of flying twice in such a short time frame left you yearning for a jog. Unfortunately the crisp autumn air rushed your face as you descended from the hatch. You shivered against the wind and followed your new team to the waiting assortment of rental cars. JJ had snagged the first set of keys for a dark four door sedan. You cautiously hauled your Go-bag and messenger to the rear of the car. As JJ popped the trunk, Dr. Reid tossed his bags inside the trunk before you registered his presence. The shock of having him there without catching him in your periphery locked you in place.

You shook your head to clear the unsettling tinge that remained on the air. You looked deeply into the trunk and slowly inserted your belongings while keeping your head down. You made your way to the back door and slid onto the leather seat. Reid was already sitting in the backseat behind Jareau. He glanced at you, surprised.

“Dr. Reid, you can sit shotgun. I prefer the back, backseat.” You tried to look reassuring. “With limbs like yours, I imagine, the front will be more comfortable. For you.” His big eyes taking in your slow to calm nerves. He made a half smile, accepting your offer with a nod. Once Spencer was situated up front, JJ typed in the address for the Brown family and headed out of town.

“So,” you began, “I’m going to pry, full disclosure. Why was the chief so huffy about the team having rental cars?” You leaned between the front seats, ensuring the other agents could hear you. You never meant to mumble, but it happened on occasion.

JJ laughed, “First off, it’s Hotch. Sir is fine, I guess. But everyone calls him Hotch.” You nodded, storing that detail for his approval later.

“You see, Y/L/N, our former colleague, Morgan, had a thing about “vibing” while he drove. There was a pedophile ring, we were on the task force near the end of the case. And Morgan, he, well he-”

“Derek drove into a marsh.” JJ concluded. “The car was unsalvageable and it set back the investigation-”

“An additional eight hours,” Reid continued. “Hotch was not pleased. He hates things that get us billed unexpectedly.”

You sensed the closeness between Reid and Jareau, interpreting their relationship to be greater than simply teammates. As Jareau was clearly married and Reid did not give off any sexuality hints you assumed they were “besties”. Riding in the backseat was refreshingly entertaining. People watching was a specialty of yours, as you tended to fade to the background anyway. You learned about JJ’s family. Spencer’s mother was mentioned briefly, but you could tell it was a touchy subject. He was studying a map, marking it diligently with details from the case.

“Y/L/N, what’s your story? Besides transferring from cyber crimes, of course.” Jareau asked after a patch of quiet. “We’re going to find out eventually. Might as well spill.” Her eyes caught yours in the rear-view mirror, prodding yet kind.

“You tell me, between Reid’s eidetic memory and your past profiling and negotiation experience. I am quite obvious, I suppose. I am curious what you’ve gathered.” You leaned back, waiting for the inevitably judgmental insights.

Jareau and Reid exchanged a look. “We don’t, uh, we have an unspoken rule not to profile each other.”

“Alvez says you all do it. You just don’t talk about doing it.” You explained. Reid pursed his lips, from where you sat you couldn’t deduce if it was in amusement or annoyance.

The family was a mess. Their emotions in dark contrast to their small, cookie cutter, ranch style house and manicured lawn. The Brown’s house interior had no visible blemishes as well. Abigail was their oldest child. Missing her were her father, Mark, her mother, Sandra and brothers Danny and Benji. The boys were at school, so there were more of your agents than family members occupying the cubical shaped dining room.

“Ma’am, would it be alright if Dr. Reid and I see Abigail’s room?” You asked rather abruptly after being introduced by Jareau, the question had been burning in your mouth. You wanted to get to work, but had to tell yourself to be considerate of the family.

“Why would you need to go in there?” Sandra asked defensively. “It’s not like she is hiding under the bed.” You glanced up at Spencer, letting him take over.

“I know you are upset, but we are trying to get to know Abigail. When we investigate we start with the victim. Why her?” Reid explained, his crisp reasoning held both parents’ attention.

“Hey, Doc?” Mark Brown chimed in, “When you figure that out, let me know. I want to reason with the bastard as it is.” You watched Reid hold the father’s stare, knowing words were not involved with his intentions. Reid cleared his throat and Jareau resumed the standard victim’s family questioning. You stepped widely around the compact table, waiting until Reid was in the hall before following his puff of hair.

Abigail Brown’s room was fairly standard college freshman material. She had a Klimt poster on one wall and a bookshelf dedicated to YA novels. The girl had good taste: Clare to Riordan, Steifvater to Rowling. Her desk was cleared of her laptop, as she would have packed it with her to return to school. Dr. Reid’s hands loomed over her dresser, the vanity astonishingly bare for your modern, small town young woman.

“Y/L/N, what don’t you see here?” Reid quizzed you. Your eyes glanced over the space once more before answering.

“There is no jewelry, make up or anything personally or monetarily valuable.” You concluded.

“She wasn’t coming back home.” Reid agreed.

SPEAKERPHONE

Rossi: Everything this girl owned seemed to be jammed into her hatchback.

Hotch: Reid and Y/L/N are suggesting she knew she wouldn’t be coming back.

Alvez: There was no sign of a struggle in or around the car. Maybe she was meeting someone?

Garcia: Sir? Once we get Abigail’s laptop connected to WiFi, I can start digging. Rossi please don’t let the new kid hurt the tech.

Rossi: Y/L/N’s with Reid and JJ.

Garcia: You know who I mean! But, now that you mention it, if Y/L/N is close by, she can dig too.

There was no good place for the team to sync up. Victims went missing counties apart from where their cars were parked. Evidence was in three jurisdictions. According to Reid, the eye of the storm was in Shawano County, but Hotch booked the hotel in Antigo, one county north. Fortunately the hotel had internet access, unlike every restaurant, diner or cafe you had come across.

You plugged your headphones in to Abigail’s lap top and got to work uncovering this victim’s dirty laundry. While you did your “tech thing” the team round tabled. You overheard the highlights, comfortable to be invisible and an eavesdropper once again.

-Victims had all packed above and beyond the usual weekend laundry run of a college student.

-Parents hadn’t heard much from the victims over the few weeks leading up to their disappearances.

-No signs of struggle and no more bodies had been found.

Dr. Lewis was extremely insightful, pulling references to human trafficking rings that ran from Green Bay to Chicago. You reminded yourself to touch base with the sultry voiced agent once you had a decent question for her brilliance. Abigail’s computer was full of malware. But other than that she had an active, yet not obsessive level of social media profiles. She checked her school email inbox between each class.

This victim was a good kid, you didn’t know why she was targeted. It wasn’t until you found reoccurring references to Night Owls that you felt the computer was a dead end. Night Owls was a evening group chat that Abigail had found on a banner ad. It was a chat room coupled with a confessional. It was in Night Owls that Abigail started communicating with a Nocturne1995. It was in one of these very emo and very lengthy chats that you found where Nocturne1995 suggested that they go to the Cabin for an Escape from Everything.

Finally turning off Abigail’s most listened to list on iTunes, you returned to your awaiting teammates. Hotch and Rossi watched you approach the table. Their dark eyes held you and you fumbled trying to wipe the sweat from your palms.

“Sir?” You began, whispering just to Hotchner. “I am going to call Garcia to trace a chat ID, its a long shot, but there are mentions of an escape and a cabin in their conversations.”

“You do what you need to, Y/L/N.” Hotchner agreed. “Y/L/N? Good work.”

To Be Continued...

#TwMtDW #Criminal Minds #bau x reader #or just put meh in the reply if you think a fic is pointless without romance #criminal minds fanfiction #maladroit #anxiety #teamwork #cases #fbi bau #bau #browncoat #nerd girl #girls who code

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ivoryandbonerpg-blog · 7 years

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♔ OWEN CAVENDISH ♔

( the basics. )

AGE: 23 LINEAGE: Half-blood SCHOOL / ALUMNI: Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry HOUSE: Horned Serpent ALLIANCE: The Order

( personality. )

✓ / ✗ : accepting, friendly, adventurous, naive, overbearing, gullible

( biography. )

• The world is a place of endless discovery and progress. Such is the view of Owen Cavendish. Born in a quaint cottage in the Canadian province of Prince Edward Island, Owen was raised in a loving household consisting of his mother and grand-mère. Separated from the dangers of a large metropolis with two doting witches always in sight, the young boy was able to enjoy the full wonders of a life between two different worlds. In the summers he would chase the kelpies that nested near the copper-toned shorelines and clumsily trying to converse with the occasional merperson who drifted near his home. In the winters when the snow isolated his snug home, Owen would spend his days in the workshop of his father- a Muggle engineer who has been lost at sea before the boy could walk. There he would tinker with gears and metal, enchanting old tin soldiers to perform dances for his mother when she seemed to withdraw into herself. His family was his world, and to both witches, Owen was their sun.

• As he grew older, it came time for him to part from his comfortable household in order to learn to properly control his growing magic. His grand-mère sent him off to Illvermony, where she had learned how to become an accomplished witch in her own right. The Horned Serpent chose him immediately, sensing the boy’s inquisitive mind. Any fears that he would not fit in were quelched in his excitement of the new environment around him. Muggleborns who never knew magic were equally as fascinating to Owen as the Purebloods who quirked their heads at the sight of pens and flashlights. He found a particular love for Charms, taking the crude enchantments he had attempted in his youth and improving them with his own unique style of magic. In his spare time he would continue to tinker away with Muggle technology, infusing his newly-learned charms into them to see what exactly would happen. On the odd occasion, these experimentations went awry, causing havoc and giving the poor wizard a rather eccentric reputation in the halls of the school. Owen however, did not take their wariness personally, always offering a helping hand to anyone and everyone who needed it.

• While he did not so much mind his unintended exile from the more popular social circles at Illvermony, there were troubles that certainly followed as a result of it. Owen found himself a frequent victim of the school’s queen bee at the time, Su Yi-Jae. Like many of his peers, he had found himself inexplicably drawn and embarrassingly smitten with the older witch, who oozed charisma from every pore. Every time she was near, it was as if a fog settled over his mind and Yi-Jae took a perverse delight in exploiting it. She made him do things, terrible things in secret to peers who didn’t deserve it. She would abuse his brilliance to breeze through her courses, and he found himself unable to deny her when she asked the impossible of him. His inventions, which were meant to help and entertain others, were instead used to terrorize those who the witch opposed. Yi-Jae bullied him relentlessly, and Owen lacked the willpower to stand up to her. The worst part about it was that she always found a way to convince him that it had all been because of something that he had wanted, that he was deserving of her torment. The manipulation continued for years, and despite his gradual understanding of what she was doing to him, Owen was helpless. It was only when she had finally graduated and left the school for good that he felt more like himself again. But guilt gnawed at him. Whether it was due to his kind nature or a darker compulsion, he was an indirect accomplice to her terrible reign, and it felt awful.

• Despite his troubles with Yi-Jae, there were still those who Owen managed to befriend when he was away from her sphere of influence. Allister Kane was one such person. A younger member of Horned Serpent, the two immediately hit it off with one another. They explored every inch of the school grounds, frequently getting out of trouble by the skin of their teeth. Whenever Owen had developed a new hybrid of Muggle and wizard technology, Allister was the first to witness its test drive. Owen helped the withdrawn boy discover his talent for writing, and encouraged him to foster that gift. Allister in turn kept Owen company when few others were willing to; something that the inventor would forever be grateful for. Even when Owen had graduated several years earlier than Allister, the pair remained in frequent contact with one another.

• Upon leaving Illvermony, Owen became a metal-charmer for an engineering firm in Canada. He specialized in the creation of moving sculptures, which were a hit among well-to-do wizards and witches who wanted to flaunt their wealth. In his spare time he continued to experiment with various types of Muggle objects and magic, creating pens which never ran out of ink and paper that would encrypt whatever was written on it into code. It was a comfortable living, but it lacked the sort of excitement that Owen was looking for. Not to mention it allowed him far too much time to dwell on thoughts that should very much stay in the past. So when Allister informed him of his intent to investigate the Death Eaters overseas, Owen jumped on the opportunity to fly with him. A new country with a new start sounded like exactly the sort of thing that the wizard needed to shake things up. Having just arrived in Wizarding London, Owen has high hopes that he can aid the Order with his inventions, and perhaps atone for the destruction that he caused in the past.

( sexuality. )

Bisexual

( connections. )

⚔ Allister Kane : Owen’s best friend from Illvermony. A younger member of the Horned Serpent house, Allister ended up the unwitting accomplice in the older wizard’s shenanigans. The pair struck an unusual bond with one another (as one would after taking a literal thunderbird for an accidental joyride) and have remained close all throughout their schooling years. Allister is often the voice of reason between the two of them, and has helped Owen out of more than a few predicaments. Owen was one of the few to get past Allister’s thorny shell and helped to build up the wizard’s confidence as a writer. So when Allister had asked him to move to London to aid the Order of the Phoenix, Owen hadn’t hesitated to pack his bags. After all, he could smell adventure right around the corner and he would be loathe to let Allister have all the fun on his own.

⚔ Su Yi-Jae : There aren’t many things that Owen fears, but Yi-Jae is certainly one of them. He remembers the sort of terror that she wrecked upon Illvermony, and the devastating aftermath for many of the younger students in his generation. The wizard has a difficult time coping with the fact that the witch had taken advantage of him countless times without his willing consent. To this day Owen is positive that she used some form of dark magic on him on more than one occasion. While he generally tries to remain as open-minded and forgiving a person as possible, he is uncertain if Yi-Jae is likely to be repentant for her actions. And when he caught wind that the witch would be coming to London for an exclusive tour, well, it sufficed to say that Owen became slightly more jumpy since then.

the role of OWEN CAVENDISH is currently CLOSED.

#lsrp #oc rp #oc rpg #roleplay #rp promo #owen cavendish #char #male #order #taken #oc

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