#✧—— To survive hell and come out shining. IC ✧ ( The Bright )

[dxvotionis]

Name | Adelphel de Chevraudan Titles | Ser Adelphel the Brightblade Occupation | Knight of the Heavens' Ward Age | 22 Gender | Male (Trans) He/him Species | Elezen; Wildwood Loyal to | Ishgard, The Holy See, The Archbishop

Adelphel’s parents were Durant and Elaine de Chevraudan. The Chevraudan family was low nobility and a dying house - Durant was the last of his family. Durant and Elaine met young and had a brief, whirlwind romance that led to a quick marriage. But things soon enough went bitter as they were unable to conceive. Durant blamed Elaine and she resented him in turn. She had quit her studies to join the clergy to marry him, and their marriage was falling apart. She sought comfort elsewhere, and as it turned out, she was not the one with the fertility problems. She told her husband early on, and they both agreed that it was best not to rock their already weak standing with a scandal, and so Durant would give this child the Chevraudan name. Elaine went to stay outside of Ishgard to have the child, claiming health reasons (but it was in case the child looked nothing like their ‘father’). And Adeline de Chevraudan was born. As she grew up, she was still kept away from Ishgard. Elaine homeschooled her and Durant made it clear to Adeline that she was not his daughter and he wanted nothing to do with her. But that that was a secret that she must never tell. When she was around thirteen, Adeline told her mother that she wasn’t a girl. That he was a boy, that he wanted to be a boy. Elaine accepted this with ease and gave her son a new name - an altered version of the first she’d given him; Adelphel. His father did not approve. But Adelphel had grown into a stubborn child, quick witted and uncaring about his father’s opinion. He told his father point blank that he could accept him as a boy, or he would tell everyone he was a bastard and ruin their name. Durant retaliated the only way he could and told Adelphel that if he wanted to be a boy, he should do what boys do and go off and become a knight and fight the dragons. And so, Adelphel returned to Ishgard proper and spent the next years of his life training and perfecting his swordsmanship. He had a natural talent for the beauty of it and quickly impressed those around him. Prior to his being knighted, he fought as a soldier wherever he was needed - meeting Janlenoux de Courcillant and forming a close friendship. After Janlenoux was knighted and offered a place in the Heavens’ Ward, Adelphel strived towards that goal as well. And when he was 21, he earned the same honour. He was given the epithet Brightblade and he wore it with honour. He’d earnt a position that put him above his father’s control. He felt important. He felt special. Only him, his parents and Janlenoux know that he is trans. Only he and his parents know that he is a bastard. Only he and his mother know a deeper secret.

Verse | Main Set until The Singularity Reactor

Verse | Survival He barely survives Azys Lla, and in those moments of realisation, he gives up. He flees. He just goes. He avoids Ishgard, slowly recovering. He sells his sword, his shield, his armour. He’s been known by his epithet so when he gives the name Chevraudan it isnt readily recognised. But now, for the first time in his life, he is away from Ishgard. He feels the warmth of the world and realises how he’s never known it. He still finds such beauty in the art of battle and eventually crosses paths with a troupe of Thavnairian dancers and becomes incredibly enamoured with them. He ends up leaving for Thavnair and thats where he stays for quite a while. During the Final Days, though, with the reveal of Vrtra, he sees that even a dragon can do the right thing and hiding here when he can fight was not worth it. He returns to Coerthas to seek out his parents, finding his mother alive and he protects her. His father had turned, but he would not be mourned.

[genevawrenn]

I'm back because q!Fit is hurting my soul again.

He went from a mission and no one to having a son, a boyfriend who adores affectionately tormenting him, and several other islanders who would fight at his side if he needed help.

This man comes from a land where trusting someone could equal your death and the loss of all your hard-earned progress to a place they need one another to survive.

And those walls dropped quickly when it became outside evils intending to murder their children, needing to band together to even survive Quesadilla Island.

Assigned a child and learning to love him, Ramon was the first being to break the anarchist's shell. Allowing the smallest amount of light through to a long shaded heart, feeling the warmth of the tiniest pinprick of brightness that began to melt the ice formed around the organ covered in ancient wounds.

Protecting any youth even if they weren't your own, he found kinship in the eyes of a paranoid old blonde crow. He found reassurance and patience in the form of a beautiful man with nightsky hair who enchanted him slowly, waiting all the time he needed. He found whimsy following a sun-kissed brunette sprint through the server intent on building his factory who made him laugh with his antics.

Many, many more friends, far too many to even name which is something Fit never thought would happen.

He found people who cared, and asked nothing in return.

He found love. He found a family.

From a place of nothing; not even peaceful butterflies or shining fireflies among the lava casts and destroyed landscapes. The only insects were things that fed on decay and could blend into their surroundings all others far too easy a target and having died out long ago.

On this wonderful, healing new land Fit had found a harmony he never felt before. He found people who wanted to celebrate his birthday and shower him with gifts, begging him to let them protect him too.

He found a place he belonged and was missed in his absence. He found a place where his legacy wouldn't be reduced to a single line on the communicator if anything happened. People here made their chest warm with joy instead of dread, his soul so full of amazing memories in only eleven moons.

He found people who cared. And he's going to fight like fucking hell to keep them but now with the people he loves most at his side, refusing to leave him ever again.

[rocksteadydeadboy]

📻🙾 [charles as ska/punk lyrics] 🙾📻

playlist [ here on youtube ] or on desktop view of this blog! just some random lyrics that remind me of the lad (not 100% ska or punk songs but for the most part!)

[ 📀 for songs i think fit best / my faves, 💿 for the rest lol ]

📀 The Selecter - Washed Up And Left For Dead

[ basically the entire song lol ] but I like these in particular:

He was washed up and left for dead Nobody told him he was just not wanted It got so cold after midnight

Night after night he's out biting the pavement Hurt his hands clapping for the group He can't dance, but he can certainly cause trouble

📀 The English Beat - Tears Of A Clown

[ full lyrics ]

Now if there's a smile on my face It's only there tryin’ to fool the public But when it comes down to foolin’ you Now, honey, that's quite a different subject

📀 X-Ray Spex - Germfree Adolescents

[ full lyrics ] a song for edwin!

I know you're antiseptic Your deodorant smells nice I'd like to get to know you You're deep frozen like the ice

[His] phobia is infection [He] needs one to survive It's [his] built-in protection Without fear [he'd] give up and die

📀 Amanda Lear - Follow Me

[ full lyrics ] tbh just here so i could have a song for the cat king. entire lyrics apply i love this song

I'll sell you dreams and new desires, I'm trading hopes, I'm open late

Unbelievable, maybe / You'll have a new identity For a second of vanity, I want to change your destiny

I'll give you wings, I'll sell you fame, merry-go-round maybe to Hell I am the key to your problem, so follow me, just follow me

📀 The Specials - Hey Little Rich Girl

[ full lyrics ] a song for crystal (and david the demon)

You left for London When you were nineteen Had to pull off your nice clothes Just living on dreams A man in the bright lights Took all that you own Now he's taken your freedom For a fate unknown

📀 The Business - Another Rebel Dead

[ full lyrics ] another charles gets murdered song :(

They say he killed himself But it was someone else His name was on their list And now he don't exist He didn't stand a chance Upon his grave they dance They were determined to blow him out

📀 Madness - It Must be Love

[ full lyrics ] another edwin song codependent king

As soon as I wake up every night, every day I know that it's you I need to take the blues away

I've got to be near you every night, every day I couldn't be happy any other way

📀 The Specials - It Doesn't Make It Right

[ full lyrics ] 'these cases have to matter', etc

Just because you're nobody It doesn't mean that you're no good Just because there's a reason It doesn't mean it's understood

It doesn't make it alright It doesn't make it alright It's the worst excuse in the world And it, it doesn't make it alright

💿 X-Ray Spex - I Can't Do Anything

[ full lyrics ] this one is a bit on the nose

I can't read / And I can't spell / I can't even get to hell I can't love / And I can't hate / I can't even hesitate

💿 The Toasters - Don't Let The Bastards Grind You Down

[ full lyrics ] mostly here for vibes

I'm living in a world where I don't really fit Every day walking through the same old shit I'm gonna get my gun, gonna get prepared I'm not impressed and I'm not scared

💿 Fishbone - Everyday Sunshine

[ full lyrics ] a bit of a niko song as well

I wish everyday the sun would shine Take me to another place in my mind Where everything is beautiful

If we could fly away on wings To a place where all could be true And the skies were blue And love was true

💿 Special Interest - Don't Kiss Me In Public

[ full lyrics ] charles & crystal song #CuteDistraction

Why don't you kiss me in public? And smear your lipstick all on my cheek Boo hoo won't cry for heartless cinema Boo hoo don't cry for you and me

💿 Angelic Upstarts - Never Return To Hell

[ full lyrics ] another overly literal pick lol

Never return to hell Hey boys, quite enough to fulfill the final blow One day all your games will come to an end

💿 Tamar-kali - Boot

[ full lyrics ] another charles & crystal song, i just like this line

She is sweet tasting fruit whose juice is bitter tears

💿 The Oppressed - Do Anything You Wanna Do

[ full lyrics ] mostly for the vibes

Why don't you ask them what they expect from you ? Why don't you tell them what you're gonna do You get so lonely, maybe it's better that way It's not you only, 'cause you got something to say Do anything you wanna do

💿 Angelic Upstarts - Never 'Ad Nothin'

[ full lyrics ] also just here for vibes!

I'm gonna go up in a puff of smoke I wanna go up in a puff of smoke (2x) If I'm goin' out I'm takin' some of you fucks with me!

💿 The English Beat - Mirror In The Bathroom

[ full lyrics ] that's right another codependent payneland song

Mirror in the bathroom, please talk free The door is locked, just you and me Can I take you to a restaurant that's got glass tables? You can watch yourself while you are eating

💿 The Specials - Do Nothing

[ full lyrics ] lastly! another depressing one lol. perhaps charles thoughts on being dead in ep 4

They're just living in a life without meaning I walk and walk, do nothing They're just playing in a life without thinking They talk and talk, say nothing I'm just living in a life without feeling

[pensat-i-fet]

A bonding trip, Part 2 (Mason Mount x Reader)

Part 1

Word count: 2154

Masterlist

Wattpad

“We are lost”.

“How Mount? How did we get lost?”

And I guess we are back to square one.

“Well, the map said…”, he tries to defend himself.

“I can’t believe you. I told you what to do, but no, you had to believe your instincts and now I follow you to help you and we are both lost”.

My attempts to connect my phone to any wifi are futile. We are in the middle of nowhere and only have a map that is worthless. Fantastic.

“What time is it?”

“6.30”, I answer. “It’ll get dark soon. How are they going to find us?”

“They will. They can’t let me here alone to die”.

“You’re doing it again, Mount”.

“What am I doing?”

“Making it all about you”, I tell him, rolling my eyes.

“You know what I meant. They’ll want to find both of us”.

An hour passes and no one is there. And then two hours and…still nothing.

“Should we try to move around a bit to see if there is something that shows us where we are?”, I suggest. “Mason?”

But when I turn to look at him, I struggle to find him in the dark. He is sitting on a rock, looking at the ground.

“Are you ok?”

“No. You’re lost because of me. We are going to have to spend the night here. What if something happens?”

“We’ll be fine. I’ve camped in the woods before”.

“I’m sorry”, he says but it comes almost as a whisper.

“It’s ok. It could have happened to anyone…”.

“No, it happened to me because I wanted to impress you but I should have let you guide us. You’re better at it than me. Like you were better at shooting and painting yesterday”.

“And like I am at football?”, I try to joke to break the ice.

“In your dreams”, he jokes back.

Seeing that he’s doing a bit better, I go up to get my emergency backpack. 

“We got some food, a torch, blankets…”.

“Of course, you thought of picking one of those up”, he says.

“You should appreciate how lucky you are being paired with me”.

“I always have”.

I really cannot deal with these conflicting feelings while being lost in the woods. So I start to organize everything we have so we can have our dinner. It doesn’t look very appetising but we don’t get to choose from a gourmet menu tonight.

                                   **

“Should we try making a fire?”

“Mason, you’ll end up burning the whole forest. It’s not even that cold. The blankets will be fine. Let’s try to find a smooth surface to lay down”.

We do find it and get the blankets ready. I’m actually not sure this will be enough to keep us warm but again, no more options. 

“I’m cold”, says Mason.

“Just close your eyes and try to sleep”.

Stupid advice, keeping in mind mine are wide open. But at least the sky looks beautiful with all the stars shining bright. So I got a nice view.

“I’ll die because of how cold it is. How can you be so mean?”

“Stop whining, Mount. What am I supposed to do?”

“Come closer”.

Hell no. 

“Why?”

“Body heat”.

I turn to give him a look. “It’s not that cold”.

“I’m cold. I swear”.

I shouldn’t do this. I shouldn’t do this. I shouldn’t…

“Ok”.

I move to get closer to Mason but I still stay on my back. He can get body heat from my arm, I guess. My leg too?

“That’s not going to do it, is it?”

I can’t face him right now, so I turn on my side and let him hug me from behind. 

“You can relax”, he whispers. And the fact that his breath is caressing my neck when he speaks is not helping me relax…at all.

I try to convince myself that this is just us surviving. We would be doing this with anyone just so we can stay warm. But then he starts to draw circles on my arm with his cold fingers and my meditation is interrupted.

But, somehow, I end up falling asleep.

                                  **

The sound of people yelling wakes us up. The sun is already out and shining bright. So bright that it takes me a second to be able to properly open my eyes and see the position I’ve been sleeping in for God knows how long.

Now Mason is on his back, still embracing me with his arms. And my head ended up on his chest somehow. And I also can’t explain how our legs ended up tangled up but they did.

“Mason, wake up”, I tell him, sitting up and finally being able to work out what the yelling is all about. It’s people looking for us. “They’ve found us”.

I get up and stretch before yelling back at them so they know where we are.

“We are saved”, says Mason, dramatically falling back on the ground.

                                  **

By the time we are back to the camp, I just want to shower and lay down on a real bed. My entire body hurts.

But then I see him.

“Connor?”

I run towards him and hug him tightly. It’s been so long since the last time we saw each other.

“Hey, you. I was told you were lost in the woods. What on earth was that about?”

“Mount’s fault. But I’m back now”.

We are still laughing and catching up when I see Mason walking past us and frowning. 

“Can you convince them to let you stay with me today? There is no way I can do any activities and I don’t want to be alone”.

“You could stay with Mount”, says Connor, laughing at his own comment. He still doesn’t know we now get on well with each other.

“I rather stay with you”.

“Then you will. What do you want to do?”

                                  **

Connor and I spend the day in my cabin playing games, reading and just watching some shows. It’s all I needed after my little adventure in the woods.

But I also wonder what Mason is up to. I didn’t see him at breakfast, but maybe he decided to go with the others to take part in today’s activities.

“Should we go have dinner? I think everyone’s back”, asks Connor.

“Yes, let’s go”.

We see a couple of groups arriving, laughing loudly.

“What did you do today?”, I ask.

“Paintball. So sad you missed it”, says Pernille.

“That’s a bummer. It’s so much fun. We’ll have to organize another match when we are in London”.

“We missed you there”, tells me Azpi. “It would have been so much more fun with you and Mason shooting each other”.

“Who got to kill him?”

“No one. He didn’t come with us”.

So he was there but didn’t ask to spend time with me? Well, with Connor and with me. I don’t know why but that bothers me.

I join the same group I always eat with for dinner, but now it includes Connor. Thankfully, the girls don’t mind him being there.

But by the time we are done eating, I want some alone time. So I excuse myself to go for a little walk.

“Don’t get lost again!”

I make sure to go to the areas I know well and it’s there I find Mason.

“Hey, I didn’t see you today”.

He lifts his head to look at me quickly before going back to looking at his phone. “You were busy”.

“Yeah”, I laugh. “I’m really happy Connor is back”.

I look at him when he doesn’t say anything and see him scrolling on Instagram, but not really looking at anything.

“You ok, Mount?”

“Sure”.

That doesn’t sound very sincere. His tone and his posture show me I’m not someone he wants to talk with. So I excuse myself and go back to my room.

And even though I think I’ll sleep really well, I can only think about Mason and his reaction to me. Why is he acting like that?

                                **

The last day in Scotland is pretty boring. We don’t have much to do and spend half of the morning packing and getting ready to leave.

A part of me is hoping Mason will ask me to sit next to him on the flight home but when I see him next to Kai, I just shake my head and sit with Connor. 

                                 **

Being back in London means the real pre-season can finally start. And it’s kicking my ass with the double training sessions.

“Oh, hi! Sorry, I’ll leave”.

Mason just got inside the room where I’m taking an ice bath and I wish I could stop him from leaving but quick movements inside of this bath mean agony so I just yell at him.

“Mount! Come here. You don’t have to leave”.

“I don’t want to bother you”.

“You won’t, really”.

I try not to sound too much like I’m begging him to stay with me. But I want him to do it. He hasn’t spoken to me since we came back from Scotland and I really don’t get it. We were fine the morning we were rescued in the woods.

“You alright?”, I ask him while he gets in his bath.

“Yeah”, he says, shivering and making me laugh.

“We always find ourselves in the nicest situations, huh?”

But instead of answering, he just looks at me and then back at the floor.

“Mason, is there a reason why you are so cold with me right now?”

“You didn’t mind it when it was you doing it”.

I can see he’s trying to sound sarcastic and snarky but he sounds…hurt?

“Did I do something to offend you? Was it…was it because of what happened in the woods?”

That finally makes him look at me. “What happened in the woods?”

“Well, you know”, he’s really going to make me say it. “We slept together. Like, not as in having sex but…you know. I thought maybe you felt weird after that”.

The way he’s staring at me now makes me want to look away, but I won’t. I need an answer.

“No, sleeping next to you isn’t the reason I’m avoiding you”.

“So you recognize you have been avoiding me”.

“Anyone could notice that”, he says, rolling his eyes. “I was actually just trying to make everything easier for you”.

“How?”

“Well, you clearly hated being that close to me. You were so stiff, I was worried you would injure yourself”.

“It wasn’t…I wasn’t…”.

“It’s fine. I got it the next day. And don’t worry. I won’t tell Connor”.

Wait a minute…

“What does this have to do with Connor?”

“You two are together”.

The laugh that comes out of me is such that I end up moving too much and then the laugh is replaced by pain. Stupid ice baths.

“Connor and I aren’t together, Mason”.

“Don’t lie to me. When you saw him, you ran to him and jumped in his arms. And then you spent the whole day in your room. Do you expect me to believe you were playing board games? Either you’re together or are fuck buddies or…I don’t care. I just…I won’t bother you two. Don’t worry”.

I can’t help but look at his flushed face and smile. He really is an idiot.

“Are you jealous, Mount?”

“Yes!”

And that only makes the smile wider.

I turn to get my towel and get out of the bath slowly before making my way to his.

“What are you doing?”

But before he has time to say more, I get inside his bath, which isn’t really the best idea but I don’t care.

“Connor and I are just friends and yes, we were playing board games, you stupid silly boy”, I say, putting my arms around his neck. “And I was stiff when you wanted to sleep so close to me because I like you and being near you like that was only making my feelings more obvious to me. And I didn’t want to embarrass myself”.

“Oh”.

“Yes, oh”, I laugh, getting even closer to him. “I never hated you. But I always liked you. Do you like me back?”

“Yes”, he says, breathless. 

“Just yes?”, I tease. 

“Yes. I like you. And I always have. And if you and Connor aren’t together, you better kiss me right now or I’ll die".

I laugh at his comment, enjoying this teasing way more than I should.

“What would you do if I don’t kiss you, then?”

“I could tell you or I could show you”.

“Show me, then”.

And he does. He closes the distance between us and presses his lips against mine. One, then twice…until I’m too tired of him trying to tease me now, so I grab the sides of his face with my hands to kiss him properly. Like I should have done it a while ago.

[charlesrptheme-test]

📻🙾 [charles as ska/punk lyrics] 🙾📻

playlist [ here on youtube ] or on desktop view of this blog! just some random lyrics that remind me of the lad (not 100% ska or punk songs but for the most part!)

[ 📀 for songs i think fit best / my faves, 💿 for the rest lol ]

📀 The Selecter - Washed Up And Left For Dead

[ basically the entire song lol ] but I like these in particular:

He was washed up and left for dead Nobody told him he was just not wanted It got so cold after midnight

Night after night he's out biting the pavement Hurt his hands clapping for the group He can't dance, but he can certainly cause trouble

📀 The English Beat - Tears Of A Clown

[ full lyrics ]

Now if there's a smile on my face It's only there tryin’ to fool the public But when it comes down to foolin’ you Now, honey, that's quite a different subject

📀 X-Ray Spex - Germfree Adolescents

[ full lyrics ] a song for edwin!

I know you're antiseptic Your deodorant smells nice I'd like to get to know you You're deep frozen like the ice

[His] phobia is infection [He] needs one to survive It's [his] built-in protection Without fear [he'd] give up and die

📀 Amanda Lear - Follow Me

[ full lyrics ] tbh just here so i could have a song for the cat king. entire lyrics apply i love this song

I'll sell you dreams and new desires, I'm trading hopes, I'm open late

Unbelievable, maybe / You'll have a new identity For a second of vanity, I want to change your destiny

I'll give you wings, I'll sell you fame, merry-go-round maybe to Hell I am the key to your problem, so follow me, just follow me

📀 The Specials - Hey Little Rich Girl

[ full lyrics ] a song for crystal (and david the demon)

You left for London When you were nineteen Had to pull off your nice clothes Just living on dreams A man in the bright lights Took all that you own Now he's taken your freedom For a fate unknown

📀 The Business - Another Rebel Dead

[ full lyrics ] another charles gets murdered song :(

They say he killed himself But it was someone else His name was on their list And now he don't exist He didn't stand a chance Upon his grave they dance They were determined to blow him out

📀 Madness - It Must be Love

[ full lyrics ] another edwin song codependent king

As soon as I wake up every night, every day I know that it's you I need to take the blues away

I've got to be near you every night, every day I couldn't be happy any other way

📀 The Specials - It Doesn't Make It Right

[ full lyrics ] 'these cases have to matter', etc

Just because you're nobody It doesn't mean that you're no good Just because there's a reason It doesn't mean it's understood

It doesn't make it alright It doesn't make it alright It's the worst excuse in the world And it, it doesn't make it alright

💿 X-Ray Spex - I Can't Do Anything

[ full lyrics ] this one is a bit on the nose

I can't read / And I can't spell / I can't even get to hell I can't love / And I can't hate / I can't even hesitate

💿 The Toasters - Don't Let The Bastards Grind You Down

[ full lyrics ] mostly here for vibes

I'm living in a world where I don't really fit Every day walking through the same old shit I'm gonna get my gun, gonna get prepared I'm not impressed and I'm not scared

💿Fishbone - Everyday Sunshine

[ full lyrics ] a bit of a niko song as well

I wish everyday the sun would shine Take me to another place in my mind Where everything is beautiful

If we could fly away on wings To a place where all could be true And the skies were blue And love was true

💿 Special Interest - Don't Kiss Me In Public

[ full lyrics ] charles & crystal song #CuteDistraction

Why don't you kiss me in public? And smear your lipstick all on my cheek Boo hoo won't cry for heartless cinema Boo hoo don't cry for you and me

💿 Angelic Upstarts - Never Return To Hell

[ full lyrics ] another overly literal pick lol

Never return to hell Hey boys, quite enough to fulfill the final blow One day all your games will come to an end

💿 Tamar-kali - Boot

[ full lyrics ] another charles & crystal song, i just like this line

She is sweet tasting fruit whose juice is bitter tears

💿 The Oppressed - Do Anything You Wanna Do

[ full lyrics ] mostly for the vibes

Why don't you ask them what they expect from you ? Why don't you tell them what you're gonna do You get so lonely, maybe it's better that way It's not you only, 'cause you got something to say Do anything you wanna do

💿 Angelic Upstarts - Never 'Ad Nothin'

[ full lyrics ] also just here for vibes!

I'm gonna go up in a puff of smoke I wanna go up in a puff of smoke (2x) If I'm goin' out I'm takin' some of you fucks with me!

💿 The English Beat - Mirror In The Bathroom

[ full lyrics ] that's right another codependent payneland song

Mirror in the bathroom, please talk free The door is locked, just you and me Can I take you to a restaurant that's got glass tables? You can watch yourself while you are eating

💿 The Specials - Do Nothing

[ full lyrics ] lastly! another depressing one lol. perhaps charles thoughts on being dead in ep 4

They're just living in a life without meaning I walk and walk, do nothing They're just playing in a life without thinking They talk and talk, say nothing I'm just living in a life without feeling

[ygreczed-3]

The Red Guard and the Snow Angel

Summer Falls desert concept art

Hank and Connor

Gavin and Nines meditating + thunder, snow, fire and wind seal

Gavin and the thunder spirit

More concept arts - traditional art & inking

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

When they go through the Summer Falls desert, Connor and Nines pass out fairly soon due to their intolerance to fire magic. They only get better at night, when the temperature drops, so they stay awake to watch out while the humans sleep. During the day Hank and Gavin have to take them on their horse/Sumo and walk beside them, even though the intense heat isn't making things easy for them either. They reach a village in an oasis where Connor and Nines get better, and when they realize there's a spring in it, they decide to go and rest a bit as the night arrives.

Nines and Gavin are gone meditating on a less crowded part of the spring.

Gavin : That's stupid… How can this make me stronger than my training ? Nines : Stop talking and focus on your breathing.  Gavin : Grmphh.. Nines : Can you feel the source of magic inside your body ? Gavin : … Yeah. Nines : You have to… establish a connection with it. Show him you don't fear it Gavin : But I fear it. Nines : The war spirit you host is an incredible source of power, and you can believe me, it is as bellicose as you are. It only needs a goal to aim for and you'll be able to channel its energy.  Gavin : … You know I'm your enemy… Why do you help me ? Nines, closed eyes : I know I can compete with you. I'm ready to be challenged. And it's funnier to fight a skilled warrior than a scared little boy. Gavin : … Fucker.

X

Connor and Hank in the hot spring

Connor : I think that's what your hug feels like. Hank : hm ? Connor : The hot water. I think it's what hugs feel like. Hank : You said my hugs... Connor : Did I ? I was just thinking… about how you hug Sumo sometimes. He loves it. Hank : Yeah, this big boy loves cuddles  I admit that. Connor : It must feel good. Hank : What… You've never been hugged before ? Connor : Golems do have… intimate behaviors, of course but it's not… I mean we're… not physically warm, so... (NB : I was thinking golems in this universe would be like vampires, not as freezing as actual snow but still colder than humans) Hank : ...Thought you didn't like heat that much. Connor : Warmth from human's touch is different from fire magic : it feels more… safe, less aggressive. I think I'd like that. Hank : … How do you know that ? Connor : I touched your back to heal it, remember ? Your warmth feels nice. Hank : Yeah okay, you touched me, but you don't know what my hugs feel like ? Maybe you'd hate that. Connor : I wish I could know.

They look at each other, but then Hank looks away and stands up.

Hank : It's late, I'm tired. I'm going back to the inn. Connor seems disappointed, but then Hank keeps going. Hank : You coming ?

When they enter the room they share all together, Nines is already in stasis and Gavin is snoring loudly.

Hank takes Connor's wrist silently, looking at him in the eyes as if tacitly asking for permission. Connor just lets himself be enveloped by wide arms, and rests his cheek on his collar bone.

Connor sighs, closing his eyes as he enjoys that nice bear hug. He feels that warm something in his chest growing in his body, invading his stomach with pleasing flutters. 

Connor : Hank… Hank : Shhh… it would be embarrassing to wake those two idiots up now.

Connor bites his lower lip as he silently reaches for Hank's hand, his skin turning white as he presses gently each of his fingers against Hank's. It's known to be a quite intimate gesture among golems, and the closest human equivalence to it would be a kiss. Connor is aware that it could even be interpreted as indecent given how close their bodies are, and that if Nines was to wake up at that moment he would probably choke on thin air. Of course Hank has no clue about that and just thinks it's funny.

Hank : What, you wanna dance ?

Connor realizes they're holding each other on the left side and touching hands on the right side, and it seems like they're going to waltz. He chuckles from the absurdity of the situation from a human's perspective. 

Connor : I wouldn't know how to. Hank : Good thing, I'm a terrible dancer. Connor : Ahah...hmm, Hank, I like it. Can we stay like this for a moment ? Hank : Sure.

X

One night in the middle of the desert, Gavin is on the watch as Hank sleeps in the tent. Connor is with him, but Nines inexplicably stays around the fire, silent. Gavin is bored out so he just starts the conversation. 

Gavin : I feel like the old man and your stupid brother are getting along. Nines : I have this feeling too. Gavin : Doesn't bother you? Nines : What can I do ? I asked Connor to be careful, but I'm not blind… He's shining with glee whenever Hank is around him. I can't… force him not to feel. Also, I think Hank isn't that bad of a person… for a human. Gavin : Still certain we're the bad guys ? Think about it : you were made to serve us.  You betrayed your creators and let us starve like dogs. Nines : Humans didn't create us. Kamski did, and if he had wanted to, he could have made unthinking, obedient golems. Maybe we were meant to break free. Gavin : Oh yeah, so why can't you even procreate ? Simple answer: you were not designed to be an individual species from the start. You were built with no other purpose in life than to help us survive.  Nines : Didn't that even occur to you that humans did bad things too ? Gavin : We're just trying to survive ! Nines : So we are. Gavin : … So what ? You're saying we're two evils ? Of course we are. But I have to protect my people, you understand that ?

Nines stays silent, exploring the surprisingly genuine glare Gavin throws at him. Of course he understands that. His own despise for humanity is only driven by his deep desire to protect Connor, Marcus, and his people. He looks back at the fire heating them, unconsciously processing how ridiculously similar they are.

And yet, something starts growing in his mind, the irritating sensation his relationship with Gavin has changed from the moment they met, and that he unexpectedly wanted to protect him as well.

Nines : Would you kill me ?

He can't even explain how this sentence even made it out of his throat. He already knows the answer. Gavin stares at him longingly, noticeably surprised by the question. He stays silent as he puts more wood in the fire.

Gavin : If I had to, I probably would. But I… hum… don't want to. Nines : … hm. Gavin : What about you ? Would you kill me ? Nines : I don't know. If lives were at stake, certainly, even if I'd find this decision… regrettable. Gavin : ... Oh wow, is that your way to tell me you like me ? Nines : … Don't set your hopes too high.

Gavin breathes in a laugh and goes back to silence, smiling smugly. 

X

They arrive in Nestlepeek and split in two teams, Hank and Connor go to the center of the town, where Connor hopes to find more precise information about Kamski and where he hides.

Gavin and Nines were supposed to go buy supplies, but as they head to the covered market, they are challenged by a man in the street to defeat his champion in a fight. As Nines realizes it's all for illegal gambling, Gavin accepts and finds himself in a cage, combating a birdman.

He thinks he's got the hang of it but as soon as the birdman starts flying Gavin can't touch him with his sword anymore and becomes vulnerable to his aerial attacks.

Nines : Gavin ! Summon the spirit ! Gavin : No way ! Nines : You'll lose if you don't ! Gavin : I know what I'm doing, alright !? Nines : You obviously don't ! Thunder magic gives you advantageous long throw attacks, you can't win against a flying foe with close combat techniques ! Gavin : I think I killed enough Golems to know how to fight flying foes ! Nines : You bastard…

Nines uses his snow magic to catch the champion in ice and immobilize him.

Owner : What the hell !!! Who did that ?! Nines : I did. I'll replace your champion, open the cage.

The owner is confused first but then he sees the opportunity and accepts. Nines enters the cage and gets ready to fight.

Gavin : … You wanna die ? Told you I could do it. Nines : We've been talking about this fight for ages. It's time to see what you're capable of.

They start fighting and they're pretty even for the first ten minutes. Their fight gathered a lot of gamblers and spectators.

When Nines starts to take advantage, Gavin's eyes suddenly turn bright yellow, and he charges at him : Nines can see the thunder magic halo surrounding him. He parries many strikes but Gavin has gained in speed and ferocity. Soon enough, Gavin throws him to one extremity of the cage, and as the crowd around them is screaming in excitement, Gavin holds up his dagger. He's trembling, electricity forming around his hand. 

Nines can make eye contact but somehow, Gavin isn't answering his glare.

Nines : Gavin- You hear me ?

Gavin doesn't say anything, and Nines is sure he's gonna die when the human warrior shoots down his dagger… only to hit one of the cage's bars just behind him. Gavin closes his eyes, and opens them, showing blue-green orbs again, and he straightens up, breathless.

The crowd boos them as Gavin takes a step back and drops the other dagger. He asks the owner to open the cage and leaves the place, Nines following him, still out of breath as well.

Nines : Gavin !

Gavin stops, letting Nines get closer, until they face each other again.

Nines : You did it. You mastered the spirit… Do you realize that ? Gavin : I could have killed you, then everyone around me. That's what the spirit wanted to do… Do you realize that ? Nines : But you didn't. With a bit more training-... Gavin : I almost killed you, Nines, for fuck's  sake ! Nines : … So what ? Thought you were ready to. Gavin : Listen, this beast wanted you dead, everyone dead so bad… How can I… How can I use this power when I know how dangerous and unstable it is? Nines : … But you stopped it, right ? You can control it. Gavin : You fucker, if it wasn't for you, I know I couldn't have stopped it. I would have killed all those strangers, I know that, and I'm not… I'm not a murderer. Nines : … What do you mean, for me ? Gavin : Drop it. I need some air, don't follow me.

X

Hank and Connor enter the library, Connor is looking for the archived events-records to see if Kamski came into this village (which is most likely given it's the first one you can find after the desert)

It appears that the local people can fly so the library is very high, and most scales don't even reach the top of the bookshelves.

Hank : How the hell can we reach the archives ? Connor : Wait a minute, I'll go there and take some volumes with me.

Connor spreads his wings, that widen to support his weight as he takes off to the highest point of the library. Hank is impressed by how graceful Connor looks in the air. When the golem comes back with a consequential pile of old, handwritten books, he's just there, mouth open in amazement.

Connor : Here we go… the last 10 years of history in this village… Ready to pull an all-nighter ?

Hank doesn't reply.

Connor : Hank ? Hank : You're beautiful.

Connor blinks once, his lips slightly parted from the surprise, his eyes conveying nothing else than confusion and yet, low-key content.

Connor: ..I'm sorry ? Hank : When you fly I mean… that's impressive… and beautiful. Connor : Huh… Thank you, I guess ? Anyway hum… let's… let's find a table… Hank : “Thank you” ? But do you even realize how beautiful you are ? Connor : I was created to meet some human ideal. Why would I be proud of something that isn't my doing ? Hank : Ah, don't be so modest.  Connor : … you know, I think I find humans more attractive than Golems. Each one of you is unique, and I love everything you call “flaws”.

Hank laughs halfheartedly at his last line.

Hank : You don't make sense, kid.

X

They read the archives until it's dark outside. Hank can't help but yawn as Connor lights the candles to keep reading.

Connor : You can go back to the inn, Gavin must be there already, and Nines can take over. Hank : Nah, I'm good. Connor : Hm… Hank : You okay ? You look… worried. Connor sighs : … What if we can't find Kamski ? What if… I was wrong, what if we had to go back to Detroit and Jericho with just nothing ? I don't want to return to a situation where I'll have to fight you… I just can't.  Hank : … Yeah, I understand that. I don't think I can remain a Red Guard after what we've been through… After I got to know you. Connor : If we were to fail… nothing will never be the same again. Without you.

Hank just looks at Connor with sharp eyes, as if he's got the urge to say something. At this point Hank knows he's falling for the Golem, but of course, he won't say anything, because he's sure it's only one sided, Connor is so young and handsome he can't possibly feel the same.

Actually the dark haired golem is totally in love with the man, but again, he thinks Hank can't reciprocate his feelings since he's probably into women (after all he used to have a wife), and definitely not into Golems anyways. It just feels so unfair to both of them to consider going back to their normal life when they just want to stay with the other so bad. They just wish they could stay together and run away in some romantic and lovesick lunacy. Again, they won't tell each other about it.

[marsbutterfly]

The Infected

Prologue

Note: Welcome! This is my first time working on a series for aot and i truly hope you all enjoy <3

Summary: When a virus escapes from a government lab, the world quickly falls into chaos. You must leave behind all of your memories from the “Before World” and focus on getting through this hell until a cure is found. Alongside Hanji, Levi and Erwin, you must survive at all costs.

Wattpad Version! | AO3 Version!

Word Count: 1.7k | Chapter 1 →

The green grass contrasts with the dark blue of your school uniform, redness spreading across your skin while an itch settles on your thigh. 

Sunlight shines from behind the leaves as Hanji’s hand glides through your hair. Warmth fills your body in two ways, one from the bright light resting against your skin and the other it’s not physical. Having her touching you feels like it could make even the hardest of icebergs melt.

“Y/N” A voice calls your name in the distance. You shift your eyes up, trying to see if the figure resting with you is the one calling out for you, but her lips do not move. You hear your name being called yet again.

Gasping for air, you sit up. Your body is drenched in sweat as you grab onto your shirt in an attempt to calm your racing heart down. 

The brunette's hand touches your shoulder gently in an obvious attempt to provide support but with no such luck. 

Paying close attention to the dirt on her face, you are sadly reminded of the truth about the world you live in, a world where zombies have taken over. In the distance, you can hear the beasts grunting, trying to limp over the heavy metal gates that protect you from the outside. 

���Fuck.” You mumble under your breath. The vision you had just now was nothing more than a feeble memory of what seemed to be too long ago.

“Are you alright?” Hanji asks, kneeling beside you, her hand shifting from your shoulder to your cheeks. 

The faint light coming from the fire shines against her broken glasses. Bandages cover her left eye as a grim reminder of the day this hell on Earth started. 

A strong smell of decomposing flesh and blood fills the air. Outside the decaying house you are staying in, you can hear them, the victims of the awful virus that spread around the globe faster than a wildfire. 

“Yeah, I just had… a good dream, that’s all” You shoot her a weak yet genuine smile. “Would you get me some water?”

She nods and, as she shifts trying to get up, you notice the frame of her gun sticking out of her belt. The fire’s flames bring out the shine of the silver and you can’t help but bite your lower lip. 

When her eyes meet yours, she shakes her head. “I can’t believe you would be turned on during an apocalypse.”

“Hey, I had the hots for you since before all of this happened.” You reply, shrugging your shoulders and, in response, she simply rolls her eyes. 

Hanji hands you the water bottle and you make a point to touch her fingers while taking it. A blush spreads across her face and you whisper, “I love you.”

Before she has the chance to reply, one of the infected comes through the door, its leg dragging behind its decaying body while its hand reaches for her shoulder. Your blood turns to ice for a second and you pat your sides to look for a weapon.

In the few seconds that you were distracted, a shadow stabs the zombie’s head with a sharp knife and you can recognize the blade’s red handle. A relieved sigh leaves your lungs as you finally feel like you can breath once again, knowing she is safe.

“Oi, four-eyes!” Levi says as he throws his backpack at Hanji’s hand and you can hear the cans inside bumping against one another. “We found a gas station down the road.”

“Anything useful?” You ask, your hands brushing against Hanji’s waist belt before gently pulling her down, towards your thighs. She doesn’t resist and, with a smile, she sits on your lap before checking the bag in her hands.

“Some food, hygiene supplies, basic stuff mostly.” Erwin replies, carefully digging in his pocket for something, “We did find this!”

Excitedly, he pulls out a gun before beginning his explanation, “It’s a .38 Taurus View revolver. Easily the smallest in the world!”

“It’s fucking useless.” Levi says, crossing his arms against his chest and arching one of his eyebrows. 

In response, the blonde man scoffs. “It’s fucking rare nowadays.” 

As they banter about the gun, Hanji unpacks their findings before picking up a big can of ravioli and, silently, she asks if you would like to have it for dinner to which you nod quietly in response. 

Without getting up, she reaches over to her right and grabs a small pot, placing the contents of the can in it and gently holding it above the fire. After a few seconds, you catch yourself staring at her and go back to listening to the two boys, who still argue.

“How many does that make, Erwin?” You ask.

“Eight!” He says, excited that at least one person is interested in his guns. Levi shoots a deadly glare at you, and you can feel his rage. You try to look away but his gaze does not leave you and you simply try to hide your body behind Hanji. 

“Where do you keep them all?” The brunette asks and you smile against her back. She knew you were curious but too scared of Levi to ask.

“Well…” He begins once again, “I keep two on each side of my belt, another two in my jacket pockets, one in my backpack, one on my leg and Levi cares the last one.”

“Awwww!” You and Hanji say in unison but the fun doesn’t last for long -- Levi silently threatens the both of you with his knife. 

“And now I will keep this one up my sleeve!!” Erwin finishes his explanation and begins putting his guns back at their designated places. 

A minute of quiet passes, and the girl on your lap ends up being the one to break the silence, “Dinner is ready.” She announces. 

The night wind rushes through the cracks in the wall of the abandoned house as the moon illuminates a part of the room that the fire can’t reach. Sitting in a circle, you look around to check the faces of the people around you.

Erwin Smith, president of Nu Kappa Lambda and captain of the tennis team. High grades and always willing to help you, no matter what the situation was. He’s the one to come up with plans and routes for supply runs. His guns are his babies.

Levi Ackerman, national figure skating champion and Erwin’s “best friend”. Outstanding grades and would teach self-defense in his free time. He pretends he doesn’t care if any of you get eaten alive but in reality he is the most concerned of all. Usually the one to save you from zombies. Prefers blades than guns.

Hanji Zoe, president of the robotics club and chemistry club. The university’s top student with the highest grades in the state. Would always run around doing dangerous experiments and drag her best friend Moblit along. 

She’s the one to make the food and medicine, tends to get too close to the dead and every so often attempts to capture a “subject” for her experiments. She’s not allowed to carry neither a gun nor a knife, so she has a baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire.

Finally, you, Vice-president of the chemistry club and Captain of the cheerleading team. Average grades but still enough to be a part of the honors program. Always making a point to make the people around you feel loved and easily everyone’s favorite. Your job is making sure Hanji won’t trap a zombie in the place where you are hiding.

Once you are all done eating, Levi takes the first watching shift. You don’t try to persuade him and simply accept it. Pulling a sleeping bag out of your backpack, you settle near the fire, trying to shield your body from the freezing temperature.

You try to fall asleep for a few minutes, but with little success. So you decide to talk to the person laying next to you.

“Hanji, are you awake?”

She grunts and quickly sits up, looking for her glasses. You rest your hand on her shoulder, reassuring her that there is no trouble near right now. She mumbles something incoherent, probably cursing you under her breath but, soon enough, her head is back resting on her pillow.

Her tired eyes meet yours and she pulls her bag closer to yours before inviting you to lay on her shoulder. You happily but quietly oblige.

“Do you ever think of the time before?” You whisper, “When our lives were all about the next exam and what we would do for a job.”

“Sometimes.” Hanji replies, her arm wrapping around your torso as she pulls you closer to her body in an attempt to keep you warm. “I try not to though. I can’t bear the idea that Moblit and my family might be gone. So I just think about how you’re still here and safe.”

“Y/N, go to sleep.” Levi says, sitting not too far from you while sharpening his knife in the dark, “The next shift is yours.”

You nod and go back to resting on Hanji’s shoulder, finally being able to get some rest. You’re pulled once again into a dreamless sleep, which you’ve learned to appreciate. After all, it’s better than the innumerable nightmares you’ve had in the past few months. 

Ones where you have to watch your family be eaten or ones where you must kill your friends who have turned. No matter the situation, your brain always finds a way to place you in the middle of the worst case scenario. 

The poor, dead creatures outside grunt in their search for human meat, banging against empty cars and breaking tree branches that rest on the floor. They can smell but cannot find you. 

Even in your sleep, you wish for it all to be a lie, a nightmare that soon will come to an end once your mother comes to wake you up for breakfast. But when you open your eyes, you see the same lightless ceiling and the fire near you.

“We will survive this!” You think to yourself, “I refuse to die like this!”

And just like that, another day in hell begins.

[originalhybridloverfics]

I'll Always Remember You

Summary: [AU Canon Divergence - if Serkan had met his daughter in the wake of a true tragedy]

Serkan's world is turned to shambles with devastating news. Mistakes etched in stone. Consumed with regrets he has to find a way to survive and be the father his daughter needs him to be in the wake of her mother's death when on he wants is Eda, smiling back at him.

[This will break your Edser heart. Consider yourself warned.]

A/N: I apologize in advance if this fic makes this cry but I did warn you. It's Serkan and Kiraz heavy with Edser dreams and flashbacks.Also I am no expert on the legal matters or turkey funerals and I am sure I got it wrong on so many levels and for that I apologize once again in advance.

“Serkan Bey!” Layla rushed into his office with an urgent look. The telephone clutched in her hand.

“Not now, Leyla!” Serkan said sharply. “I am in the middle of a meeting.”

“But Serkan, they say it’s urgent and won’t stop calling until they get in touch with you.” Leyla insisted clutching the phone tight in her hands.

Serkan’s annoyance was high. He had been getting calls all morning from an unknown number and he ignored it because it was more than possible it was reporters and he did not want to deal with those vultures today.

He has been having a bad week ever since he woke up in a cold sweat, his heart hurting. He went to the doctor and was told there was nothing wrong with his heart. Furthermore, he couldn’t explain it but there was an empty feeling inside him. An emptiness he never felt before.

He forced a smile for his clients. “I’m sorry for the interruption.”

He held his hand out for the phone and Layla nearly tripped over her feet in her haste to hand him the phone.

“Hello,” he spoke sharply into the phone.

“Am I speaking with Serkan Bolat?” A woman’s voice echoed down the line. Her tone is professional.

“Yes, you are. What is this about?” Serkan asked.

“My name is Ayla Yavus and I am with Child Protective Services. I am calling on the behalf of a young child. Kiraz-”

“I don’t understand.” Serkan cut her off. “Why are you calling me? I have no children.”

“Well, according to Kiraz’s relatives. You do. You are from their understanding her biological father.”

Serkan pushed his chair out abruptly and walked out onto the terrace. Layla followed, closing the door behind him.

“Explain,” Serkan demanded.

“Kiraz is five years old. She was being raised by her mother in Italy unfortunately, the child’s mother was in a fatal car accident a little over a week ago. We had her in our custody for only a few hours before placing her in the temporary custody of her mother’s aunt.:

Serkan’s heart pounded, fear lancing through him. “And her mother’s name?”

“Eda Yildiz.”

Serkan’s phone clattered to the floor as she spoke the one name he would have given anything for her not to have spoken.

His knees gave way beneath him and he caught himself on the ledge, sinking to the ground, he turned pressing his back against it.

“Serkan Bey!” Leyla called out in alarm. “Are you alright?”

“Tell everyone to go home.” his voice was low barely above a whisper.

“Serkan Bey?” Leyla questioned.

Serkan looked up at her and Leyla fell back a step by the devastation written on his face. “I want everyone out of the building. Now!” His voice was loud, like a clap of thunder causing Leyla to jump.

There was something so terrifying about his demeanor that Leyla immediately rushed to clear the building.

Serkan didn’t move, he felt like the world was falling away and not in the good way he remembers when he was with Eda.

He felt like everything around him was dying while he was left to suffer in agony in a world without light and sunshine, without flowers and kindness. Without his star and the beauty that brought him to life.

“Serkan Bey,” Leyla returned, speaking tentatively. “Everyone is gone.”

“I want you to leave too,” he said not looking up.

“Serkan Bey, I don’t feel comfortable leaving you in this state.” Leyla protested, fighting back her fear of his anger.

Serkan looked up at her. “I don’t care what makes you uncomfortable, Leyla. I want to be left alone,”

Leyla didn’t want to leave him. Especially, after witnessing the devastation in his eyes but if she continued to refuse Serkan’s anger would erupt.

“Okay, if you need anything. I am a call away.” Leyla reluctantly grabbed her things and left the building.

Serkan wasn’t certain how long he stayed there, but he felt the wind pick up as the sky began to rumble.

With an effort he pushed himself up, grabbing his phone from the floor, and headed inside.

Mindlessly, he climbed the stairs to his office, and pulling out a bottle of liquor off the shelf he kept for guests, he grabbed a glass, setting it down on his desk.

He moved to his safe, pulling out a box, not bothering to close the safe he moved back to his desk taking a seat behind it. He sat the box down and opened it.

Side by side incased in the fabric were his and Eda’s engagement ring, his platinum band with her name inscribed into it, and sparkling flower engagement ring.

He reached, his chest tightening as his fingers brushed her ring.

Serkan swallowed hard, the phone call haunting him. Eda was gone, leaving behind a child.

Their child. A child he never even knew about.

How was he supposed to handle this? He could barely hold it together after learning that the only woman he ever loved was gone.

How was he supposed to be strong for a child and raise her? What was he supposed to say to her? How would he look at her and see her mother and not break down every fucking time?

He was on a cliff and he felt like he was going to slip off it at any given moment.

His phone rang again and he reached for it blindly, not checking the caller id. “Hello,” his voice was hoarse.

“Mr. Bolat, this is Ayla Yavus. I’m with-” “I know, we spoke earlier.” Serkan cut her off, he pulled the phone away to clear his voice and sound more presentable.

“I thought I give you some time to deal with the news from earlier. I know this is difficult-”

“Difficult? It’s impossible. You have no idea what this feels like.”

“Maybe so but you need to pull yourself together and gather your strength. You have a little girl who is going to depend on you for everything.” Ms. Ayla replied matter-of-factly.

“How is this going to work?” Serkan asked. “Do you bring her to me? Do I just take custody? Do I come to her?”

“As I said during our first phone call, currently, Kiraz is in the custody of her mother’s Aunt, Ayfer Yildiz. While it is believed you are the father of Kiraz we will need to perform a DNA test and a background check to ensure it is safe for the child to be in your care.”

“It’s my child. Of course, she will be in my care,” What the hell did they take him for?

“After all this is taken care of you will come and take your daughter into your custody. Now, if you do not wish to take responsibility you can sign over your rights and custody will be given to Ms. Ayfer.”

“No, I won’t be giving up my parental rights.” Serkan hadn’t even seen a picture of his daughter but she was the last thing tethering him to Eda. There was no way he would let her go.

He knew absolutely nothing about raising a child but he knew he would do anything to protect her and give her a safe home. He would love her as much as he loved her mother.

“Thank you for your time, Serkan Bey. We will be in touch.” the line clicked.

Serkan dropped his phone onto the desk and he reached for the bottle of liquor and filled the glass in front of him.

He made a few calls after downing the glass. Using his contacts to find out if a funeral has taken place and if not where and when. He needed immediate results.

When he ended the call he poured himself another drink and another.

Later he was awakened to the sound of his phone ringing. It was his contact calling to tell him that the Yildiz family was returning to Istanbul.

It was all Serkan needed to know. Ayfer was having Eda brought back to Instanbul to be buried next to her parents.

He didn’t know how he was going to bring himself to attend the funeral but he owed Eda that much and so much more.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Two days later his head pounding and feeling like he had the worst hangover of his life, he was pulling up outside the cemetery, sunglasses over his face, dress in his best black suit.

He stepped out of his car and saw a gathering of people. There was a lot. He saw people from his company. Serkan wasn’t surprised. Nearly everyone who ever met Eda became enamored with her. In his eyes, she had to be the most beloved woman in the world.

He scans the crowd and nearly froze, Melo stood next to Ayfer, a little girl in between them, she had her face, buried in Melo’s side, her shoulders shaking as she cried. His heart pounded painfully in his chest, his eyes bounced around and landed on the closed casket and he froze, ice keeping him still.

Then as he locked eyes with Melo, he was moving.

He turned away. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t be here.

A hand landed on his shoulder.

His eyes snapped up and Engin stood before him. A frown on his face. “Leyla called and Ceren told Piril about today’s services. I’m sorry brother.”

“I can’t do this.” Serkan shook his head.

“You have to,” Engin tightened his grip. “For Eda. You will do this. I know it means little right now but I am here. Right beside you.”

For Eda.

The words echoed in his head and he nodded slowly. This wasn’t about him. It was about Eda and the respect she deserved from him.

He moved forward slowly, seeing more people he knew but couldn’t bring himself to greet them. There were art life employees, Eda’s friends, Efe. Her grandmother and so many more people but he ignored them. He ignored everyone.

He walked up to the casket and placed his hand upon the wood, his mind working as an enemy against him as he recalled with perfect clarity what it was like to touch her skin.

His eyes slid shut and he could picture her so clearly, the light shining behind her, her smile bright, eyes shining, her dark hair falling down her back in long luxurious waves, her skin perfectly tanned.

His knees grew weak, an ache in his chest. He couldn’t breathe, his vision darkened.

“Serkan.” Engin was there wrapping his arm around his shoulder, steadying him. “Breathe, brother. Breathe.”

Serkan shook his head. “I can’t! I cannot. What right do I have to breathe when she isn’t.” He shook Engin off and moved back toward his car. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t watch them put his star in the ground.

“Brother!” Engin was hot on his tail.

Others had noticed his pain but it went unnoticed by Serkan. Babanne was angry that a Bolat had come and was being blocked by Efe. Ayfer wanted to make Serkan leave believing he had no right to be there but her path was blocked by Ceren and Fifi wanted to tear into him but was being stopped by Melo who stood in front of her Eda’s little angel holding tightly to her hand.

“You don’t understand, Engin!” Serkan whirled around. “She was my breath and now she’s gone. I cannot be here. It’s too real and I need it not to be.”

Serkan’s fell back against his car, and his breaths came quickly. He recognized he was on the verge of a panic attack.

He slumped leaning against the vehicle heavily.

“Serkan, breathe,” Engin said and tried to show Serkan by taking a breath and releasing it slowly,

Serkan shook his head.

“Serkan,” Melo’s voice appeared suddenly and he froze, his eyes went past her to the little girl just a foot away, her cheeks wet with tears.

Melo crouched in front of Serkan and took his hand in hers. “Son-in-law. You need to breathe,”

Serkan looked at her blankly. “I don’t want to.”

“I know.” Melo saw the pain in his eyes, he looked so lost. She knew him. She never truly understood why he and Eda couldn’t make it work. But what she knew without a doubt was that Serkan and Eda had never stopped loving each other. “But you have to. Eda would want you to.”

“Eda,” Serkan’s voice trembled on her name. “She’s gone.”

“I know but she loved you. She loved you until her last breath and she would want you to be okay and for that to happen you have to breathe.”

Serkan nodded slowly and took a shallow breath and released it, he did it again and again and again until he started breathing normally just as a soft voice penetrated the air, the voice of the little girl.

“Melo,” the child sounded so heartbroken and lost.

His eyes snapped back to the little girl. “Kiraz?”

Kiraz stepped closer to Melo.

Melo’s lips trembled. “I see social services contacted you,”

Serkan nodded, frozen.

“Are you well enough to meet her?” Melo asked.

“I’m never gonna be ok again but I am well enough.” More so Serkan wanted to look in his daughter’s eyes and see Eda. He needed something solid that connected him to her to hold onto.

Melo nodded and gently took the little girl’s hand and urged her forward, “Come, Kiraz, I want you to meet someone very important. This here is Serkan Bolat, he was a very precious friend of your mother.”

The girl sniffled, taking small steps forward until she stood in front of Serkan. “Are you sad, too?” Kiraz asked. “Mom’s gone and she’s not coming back.” the little girl lifted a hand to her heart. “Does your heart hurt like mine?”

Serkan couldn’t keep the sob in even if he wanted to, his child’s heartbreaking words tearing it from his chest.

“Oh, Serkan,” Melo murmured squeezing his hand.

“Do you want a hug?” Kiraz asked as her shoulders shook. “Mom always said hugs were like bandaids for sadness.”

Serkan couldn’t bring himself to respond as he pressed his hand over his heart that was so broken beyond repair he didn’t know how it was still beating.

Kiraz tentatively approached Serkan and wrapped his arms around his neck.

Serkan was shocked and stilled but then this feeling overcame him and he couldn’t explain it. All he knew was he was connected to this girl and even if he hadn’t know the truth he would have felt it.

He wrapped his hands around the girl softly, and he heard her sniffle as her tears drip onto his neck, her shoulders started to shake. “My heart won’t stop hurting.”

“It will be alright,” he found himself trying to comfort his daughter, stroking her hair and rubbing her back. He didn’t think he was going to be alright again but his child, Eda’s child needed to believe that it would be. She needed someone to be strong for her and hold her when she needed it.

Serkan didn’t think it was possible but the pain in his chest became worst. He wanted Eda and he wanted to protect his little girl from the pain she was feeling.

The world was too cruel and he didn’t understand how life could be so brutal and unforgiving to take Eda away from him and especially away from the little girl in his arms.

“Shh, it’s going to be okay. Your heart hurts now but this will pass. In time you will find it won’t hurt as much.” he said and began whispering soothing words, even as his voice choked.

“How do you know?” She pulled back to look at him with a tear-stained face, and devastated eyes.

Serkan wanted more than anything to be able to answer her but he couldn’t. He said the words to comfort her but they were empty. He was certain the pain ripping through him would never stop.

Serkan looked desperately to Melo for help.

Melo moved closer and ran her hand soothingly through Kiraz’s hair. “Because pain like this doesn’t last forever, we live through it, we survive and it makes us stronger.” Melo smiled weakly, a tear sliding down her cheek. “The most important thing you have to remember, love, is that your mother will never truly be gone.” She placed her hand over her heart. “As long as you keep her in your heart she will always be with you.”

Kiraz’s shoulders started shaking again. a fresh wave of tears overtaking her and she reached for Melo.

Melo took her in her arms and stood. “Son-in-law, I know it’s hards but you should be here.”

Serkan stared at the broken girl in her arms and he nodded, forcing himself back to his feet on unsteady legs, he followed Melo back to the proceedings.

Engin kept close to him, ready to be there for him if need be.

During the proceedings, a small hand slipped into his and he clung tightly to it, he looked down at her and her shoulders were shaking as she cried silently.

He ignored Ayfer’s and Babanne’s glares and lowered himself to the ground, offering her a shoulder to cry on and she took it.

It was then as he watched the woman he loved being buried, holding the child created in his arms that he knew with absolute certainty he wasn’t going anywhere. He would do anything to protect his daughter from any more suffering.

He will never be able to make up for his mistakes with her mother but he could, protect her, raise her, love her. Do right by her.

And truth be told he needed her. He needed something to tie him to Eda.

Her small body leaning into his side was the only thing keeping him grounded.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Melo looked around Kiraz in her arms as she prepared to get in the car and leave. She looked toward Serkan’s car, knowing she needed to talk to him. There was so much that needed to be discussed. Especially regarding Kiraz.

He wasn’t by his car but she saw Engin and Piril, standing next to it.

She looked back to Eda’s fresh grave and her breath hitched. Serkan was there, kneeling in the grass, his head bowed.

“Isn’t mom’s friend going to leave, too?” Kiraz sniffled.

“I don’t think so,” Melo shook her head. “I think he wants to stay awhile with her.”

Kiraz squirmed out of her arms. “I want to stay too. He’s hurting. You’re not supposed to leave someone alone when they’re hurt.”

“This is a different kind of hurt,” Melo reaches to take her hand and usher her in the car but Kiraz was already moving away from her back toward Serkan.

She watched as Kiraz moved in front of her father, her little hands reaching up to wipe his tears before she put her arms around him.

Serkan went rigid but then he was folding forward and she watched as his whole body shook with grief, holding tightly to his daughter.

Melo lifted her hand to her mouth, her hand shaking.

She didn’t know how any of them were supposed to get through this. She was barely holding it together but she had to for Kiraz.

Nothing was ever going to be like before again. It couldn’t.

She only hoped Serkan and Kiraz would make it out on the other side. Together.

A/N: Did you cry? If you did I'm sorry. My muse is evil but I am a slave to her.

[passivenovember]

Chapter Six of : If Snow Loves the Trees and Fields

--

Billy goes home less than an hour after Steve suggests they play operation. When he looks at Billy with eyelashes Neil Armstrong could see from the moon and suggests they cozy up among the coffee table books to do some lasting good in the world; get the tooth out of that guy's dick for him--

Billy has to get out of there.

It was too much.

The house. The colors. The fabric. The smell of Steve's shampoo, which is less like peeled lemons and more like funeral flowers, the longer Billy sits around getting sunburnt under the intense light of a man who wasn't interested in him beyond starched collar friendship.

And he's not mad at Steve. Isn't on his way to punch a hole in his drywall, or anything, but he's mad at himself. Mad at his heart for kicking up a cloud of pink smoke when Billy stands and says he'd better get going. 

And Steve's face falls like snow that covers Billy's driveway, that glues his feet together.

"Papers." Billy says quickly, searching for the coat he knows he didn't bring up the drive.

"Newspapers?" Steve goes along with him, adjusting the yellow bandana behind his ears. He turns with a swoosh of his orange rug robe to dig through the shelves on the wall. "I have some here. Old ones, new ones. There's an edition from 1985 about the mall burning down, it's pretty interesting. Would you like that?"

"Sure, I'll, uh--" Billy takes the yellowing pages from Steve without really thinking about it, jerking away when Harrington lands too close. Close enough that Billy can see the specks of green in his eyes. "I meant. Teaching papers. Assignments." The newspaper smells old. Like books and dust, and faintly of spilled bong water from the pipe of a baghead teenager long ago. "I have to grade papers."

Steve doesn't take it back from him. "I thought you taught kindergarten."

"I do."

"Kindergarteners write papers?" Steve's hair flops across his forehead. Like big, wavy puppy dog ears on either side of his face. 

Billy has to force his tongue to stay in his mouth, his eyes to stop staring. "I meant, like. Spelling. Numbers. Rudimentary bullshit." Billy shakes the newspaper at puppy dog Steve. "Declan Parks can't even tie his own shoes, so--"

"Alright. Okay." Steve says sweetly, pushing Billy's hand back to his own chest, fingers wrapping around his palm. "Take it with you. There's a lot of history in this town, mythology and folklore--rumors of bloodsucking aliens and evil scientists camping out under the power plant." Steve doesn't let go of Billy's hand. He grins instead, dimples popping like fireworks on his face. "We're a regular Twin Peaks ripoff. Read about it, let me know what you think." And.

Steve doesn't back away. Doesn't back down.

"I'll give you a ring sometime." Billy says suddenly.

"Okay."

"Yeah, alright, uh." Billy backs toward the front door, two finger salute making pink skies land on Steve's face. "Thanks for the grub. I'll see you in the driveway, or--"

Steve laughs, following Billy to the door. 

"Around. Yeah, Steve, I'll--"

Steve places a hand on Billy's shoulder and the world stops spinning. Melting right off the bone. Billy fights to get air in his lungs as Steve brushes a lock of hair from his forehead, fingertips lighting Billy's skin on fire.

"See you around, neighbor." Steve says.

And Billy knows, feels in his bones, that he'd do better moving across town.

--

It keeps snowing. 

Morning noon and night, wood nymphs piling on ice and hail down on a town of 36,000 people until Billy feels alone. Like an animal trapped in a beige house on a white street that exists in a bubble. A snow globe immune to light and sound. 

There's a period of days where school is cancelled and Billy runs out of things to keep himself occupied. All the books have been read and returned to their place on the shelf. All the films watched and replayed until Billy draws his own conclusions, until the characters feel like his own.

On the first day Billy feels like he's losing his mind.

He orders groceries. Picks up some thermal socks. Considers making a pie or something from scratch, like his mother used to do before Neil went missing on Christmas Eve, but. He doesn't have a rolling pin.

On the second day he drags a chair over to the window and stares at the warm, peachy light from Steve's upstairs window as it shine on the drifts that gather and climb toward heaven. Billy thinks about that living room as if it were a vision from some other planet. A universe crafted in the image of virality.

Billy thinks about Steve and wishes he could be like that. 

Wide eyed. Free.

--

On the third day, Megan says Billy should begin preparing for spring.

"We're snowed in." Billy mutters, cleaning up the polish on his toes. A gorgeous matte eggplant color that proves--spring isn't on his radar. 

"You're getting bogged down with the ice and snow," Megan reiterates, pen scratching across the page so loudly that Billy can hear it with the phone on speaker. "Before long the flowers will bloom again. The sun will shine, it's something everyone has to prepare for. Rebirth, growth--"

"I don't have a garden."

"Don't be a shitter, Billy." Megan sighs, but he can hear the smile in her voice. "We can work with that. Would it do some good to plant one?"

Billy starts painting his other foot. "I don't want to stay in Hawkins forever."

"That's understandable."

"And I have plans this spring." Billy twists the cap onto the nail polish, swinging his foot around in the air as if that'll make things move faster. "Max and I want to go hiking back home. I'm supposed to help my mom get the boathouse ready for the summer, and I don't want to start something permanent in a place I can't see myself settling down in--"

"A couple marigold bushes are not permanent, you could kill 'em off with a single neglectful week in the summer and you know it." Megan falls silent, only the click of her pen left behind. "This move has been rough on you, and it's been rough on your body, and it's been hell on your space."

Billy shrugs. "It's been fine on my space."

"Have you even finished unpacking?" Megan demands, strictly business.

"I don't want to set down roots--"

"You've lived in Hawkins for two years, Billy, and you haven't finished unpacking."

A lump appears in his throat, just like that, just. Choking the air from his lungs. Megan must hear Billy swallow, or sense the shift in the air because her voice goes soft around the edges. Pliant. "It's a new cycle." 

Billy tries not to think about Max. "Alright."

"Time to blow the cobwebs away." 

"Dust the spider houses." Billy says to himself. He tries not to think about their garden back home, the fertile smell of fresh Earth somehow finding its way to Hawkins despite Billy's efforts. He misses Mammoth Lakes. He tries not to think about it. Then; "Max is coming down for my week off."

"That's not until March."

"So?"

Megan sighs, like Billy should get it by now. "That's way into the spring season, what you need this year is to get a head start." She scribbles something down on the page again. "We've been through this before. You're beyond me spelling out what you need. You've been my client long enough to know the type of person you are, Billy."

He smirks. "Yeah, and what kind of person is that?"

"Someone who likes to open his doors and let in the fresh air." She moves some papers around, voice firm. "Bright colored walls, and bird baths littering diverse lawns even though they turn to green slime when not filtered properly. The kind of man who likes to shop second hand because 'everything has a soul--'"

"Are you reading from my journal?"

"Need I go on?" Megan lets Billy mull it over for a moment. Lets him draw is own conclusions. When she speaks again it's like Billy already knows what she wants to say. Already believes it himself, but. That's never stopped her before. 

"We were just talking about Steve last week."

"We're always talking about Steve," Billy snaps. "Last week, and the week before that, and yesterday and tomorrow--"

"Perpetually." Megan teases. "I know. But you said you liked his house. That's what we discussed last time; not Steve or his hair or how embarrassed you are about the rats--" Billy wishes everyone would let that part go. "But his house. The way it made you feel."

He can see it in his minds eye--Megan leaning forward, legs uncrossed on her big hammock chair, blue and gray glasses catching the glint in her eye as she pokes through his spirit and lands at the root.

The bone.

"What is it you liked about Steve's place and what is it you hate about your own and where is the through line?"

She gives him homework. Student and teacher.

Billy hates homework, but. He jots the instructions down in his notebook anyway and wonders, distantly, if the skies will continue to open above his head and if he'll ever learn to accept it.

--

On the fourth day Billy's power goes out. 

Just like that. 

With no bang or whimper it's just there one moment and gone the next.

One minute he's watching Wayne's World, wrapped in five blankets and eating soup from one of those bowls with the built in straw, and the next he's submerged in darkness. Looking around the living room like a startled chicken, still slurping down tomato soup and hoping it's just a surge.

It's not. 

Billy finishes his soup.

He manages to keep the feeling in his toes even as he wanders around the house lighting every candle he can find, sticking towels over the cracks in his front door and remembering to turn the faucets on drip so the pipes won't freeze overnight.

Outside the storms keep raging.

Billy can't see the end of the front porch, so he grabs his blankets and heads to bed. Remembers to plug in his phone, on the off chance that the power will come back on while he's out, and Billy feels good about himself for a lot of reasons. For remembering his Midwestern Winter Survival Skills, and buying thermal socks when he went shopping last week, and as the temperature keeps dropping Billy feels himself drifting off.

Warm and safe in his cocoon of blankets, he wonders if the power has come back on when someone bangs on his bedroom window.

Billy sits bolt upright, hissing as cold air manages to snake in through an opening near his feet. The knock comes again, louder this time, and Billy thinks about what he read from that article in the Hawkins Post dated July 5th, 1985. 

"Billy?" 

Harrington is wrapped in a blanket. 

That's all, just a knitted monstrosity of orange and green draped across his shoulders, paired with a black hoodie and the care bears scarf that haunts Billy's dreams. He's got yellow gardening gloves on his fingers and, over his head of wavy brown hair, a pink beanie that reads, If I Die of Aids--Forget Burial--Drop My Body on the Steps of the FDA, in teal block letters.

Steve Harrington could break hearts.

Billy's heart is floating through the air, just. Decimated. As Steve smiles and taps on the window. "I tried the front but I figured you were asleep." He says.

And it takes Billy a minute to find his voice. He opens the window, grimacing at the snow on the ledge that topples in. "What are you doing?"

"I cleared a path. Around the house. By the propane tank." Steve says, gesturing with his stupid little gloves. "I took care of the driveway for you. And put some ice melt down, brought some firewood up to the door."

"Wait, what?"

"I just picked some up from Melvalds yesterday, it's no biggie--"

"The powers out." Billy grumbles, using the corner of his blanket to scrub at his face. "Shouldn't you be stock piling layers, like the rest of us?"

"'S not so bad at home."

"It's colder in here than it is outside."

Steve jabs a thumb over his shoulder. "Mr. Bane's auditioning to be a starfish on my mattress."

"Push that little fucker over the edge." 

Steve leans back, gripping the window ledge with an easy smile. "I could never do that. We have a system--I let him sleep on my bed every night on the condition that he doesn't shit in the hallway anymore." Steve lifts one hand and taps his forehead, pleased as punch. "Work smarter, not harder. Right?"

And that makes Billy blush. Either from the image of Steve's fat Mainecoon running the show or the fact that Steve lets it happen, even on the coldest night of the year. 

It's sweet. 

Steve's sweet. Like sun tea with extra sugar, just--

"So where does that leave you?" Billy muses, picking at a loose thread on his pillow case just to keep his heart from beating out of his chest. "It's too cold for the floor, and the living room's gotta be drafty, right?"

Steve shrugs, leaning against the window pane and looking over his shoulder, as if daring the ice to fall again. "I have an extra blanket or two, should be alright."

With his head turned that way Billy can see moles--dozens of little chocolate kisses sprinkled over Steve's skin, swirling and disappearing under the hood at his neck. 

He's beautiful.

Billy thinks the moles could taste like cinnamon or nutmeg. Hot chocolate with little drops of citrus enriching the flavor--

"You could sleep here." Billy's mouth says. 

Steve stares at him, eyes wide, but. Not surprised. Not mean. "Really?" He asks, folding his arms on the window pane and studying Billy's face. Forehead and eyelashes and back again, like maybe this is a joke. "You'd let me sleep on the couch?"

"Sure."

"What makes you think your places' gonna be any better?" Steve demands.

Light.

Teasing.

Billy shrugs again and his stupid blanket slips off one shoulder, revealing a strip of hoodie that may as well be his bare fucking skin, the way Steve's eyes track the movement. Filing it away for some unknown purpose even as Billy rights himself again. He feels every bit like the heroine in those shitty dieback erotica's his mom still reads every Saturday morning. The window lets in gust after gust of frigid air and Billy decides that he isn't going to beg.

"I'm not going to beg," Billy reiterates, though he doesn't sound convinced. "Come sleep at mine or don't, that's--"

"Unlock the front door," Steve says, and then he's gone, rainboots leaving a trail of footprints to show that this was real. 

That one night, with ice covering the trees and fields like a blanket of hope, Steve was real.

[theravencawsatmidnight]

Frostbitten. Pt 2

Kirishima brings home a rare Ice Element egg to his King Bakugo. The King is expecting another dragon to serve him but his plans for domination are halted when you hatch. A half dragon half female who can breath ice but cant turn into a dragon.

Drakno; a made up slang word for someone who cant turn into a dragon

“What the hell did you say to me?”

“Pa..pa?”

You fell back once Bakugo shook you off his leg to stomp away from the room. He was so angry, what a useless dragon.. No , not even a dragon, a drakaina.. Useless, worthless, not worth his time. He kicked a door open stalking around the room till he found his throne and threw himself down in it to sulk and be a brood while his leg turned back to its normal color and stopped freezing.

Kirishima was quick to help you back on your feet and crouched down to get a good look at you, He sighed with the biggest smile on his face. He was not the only one anymore, sure, other dragons were around but he did not know any of them personally and this was his chance to get to know one and even raise it. He had to be careful though, if he upset the King in anyway or if .. you did.. He shook his head and gave you a hug laughing.

“So cute! I cant wait to get to know you , you need a name though.. Hm..”

You sat down looking at your hands and wings pulling them to your front to inspect them, a pretty foggy white blue , very pretty. The white blue scales on your body shined bright in the sunlight too. Kirishima had never seen a ice dragon before, and since he was a fire element dragon he was very curious, you were the opposite of him pretty much,

He patted your head giggling at the goosebumps appearing on his hand. “Hm.. Chilly, Chilla, do you like that?”

“Chill..a..?”

“Yep!”

Your cheeks had a faint red on them and you gave him a slight nod. “Kay.”

“Okay! Chilla it is!” he picked you up in his arms to show you around the castle.

*

Bakugo was close by while Kirishima did his little tour , he had disgust written all over his face the entire time. What a useless thing to be doing, she will never leave this castle , better yet her room so why did she need to see everything in it huh?

You were very curious about everything you saw, it was a whole new experience for you since you had hatched not too long ago. Your body was adjusting to the sudden temperature drop and having this man carry you seemed to help. He felt really hot for some reason, it was cozy.. You leaned into him looking at everything with wide eyes. Kirishima rubbed your back while he showed you everything , the thought of the King changing everything unexpectedly hung in the back of his mind every second now though,,

“Uh..mm..” you tugged his red hair.

“Yeah?” Kiri looked down to see you looking a little sad. “Papa?” you pointed to Bakugo who was behind you a few feet away.

“Tch..” Bakugo turned his chin up walking away to his room and slamming the door,

Kiris smile faded from his face as he sat down in the nearby window looking out at the village that sat just at the end of the hill . “Chilla, papa is.. A little busy. But im fun too okay? I promise!”

You leaned into his arm nuzzling into it enjoying the warmth he gave off “wanna see.. When hes not busy..”

Kirishima got up with a long sigh falling off his mouth “ill see what i can do Chilla, are you tired?”

“Mmn..” you pulled a wing over your face and Kirishima started to walk to your room. “Okay, big brother Kirishima will see what he can do ..”

You were falling asleep by the time Kirishima got to your room, it was .. more of a closet than a room.

“I dont care, stick her in there” was what Bakugo told Kirishima, he tried his best to clean it up and make it look semi decent. He placed a bear fur stuffed with feathers in the corner along with some pelts and some pretty rocks that shined when put under the window. You liked it ..but..Kirishima did not.

He kneeled down to rub your head and move your bangs up with his thumb to see your pretty eyes. You were so cute.. Innocent .. . “Chilla… listen to me okay?”

“Sleepy..” you leaned into his arm and Kirishima had to sit down and place you on his leg .

“Hang on , you can sleep in a minute. “

“Ok…”

“When im… “ he leaned against the stone wall looking up at the small hole in the wall for a window. “When im not here, or i need to go take care of something. You have to stay in here okay? If i ever cant bring you here you need to go here yourself…” he was crushed. Absolutely crushed. Every single word broke his heart more and more. He wanted to teach you how to fly.. Show you the land.. Set sheep on fire.. Or well, freeze them. He knew you had high potential .. he just knew it..

“Stay .. here.. Or go here..”

“Yes Chilla..”

“Because .. papa.. Busy and Big Brother busy..”

That's what broke him. Completely broke his spirits. “Yes.. but i promise..” he hugged you trying not to cry. “Ill give you a good life -”

Snap

Kirishimas suddenly started to see red , his heart rate kicked up and his breathing got very heavy. His hands were starting to grow and his skin was turning red.

“Lock up the Drakno and go set something on fire. Bring back gold and food”

Kirishima put you on the animal fur bed and got up closing the door behind him. He went to the nearest window jumping out of it and turning into his dragon, flying off with only the orders from his King crossing his mind.

While Kirishima was out Bakugo tended to his castle and checked over everything. He wanted to conquer , winter was coming and he needed food and warmth. He needed to go with Kirishima before the first snow to gather everything he needed to survive the winter, and he needed too ..

The door to your room opened and Bakugo crouched down to see you rubbing the tired from your eyes. “Papa..” you sat up “papa not busy..?”

“Your coming with me, Drakno” he said, grabbing you and yanking you out of the bed and to the main room of the castle to the outside. It was chilly and very dark..

“Papa?” you asked him again , hugging his leg trying to get him to pick you up . “up.. Want up..”

“Freeze something , “

“Freeze?”

He flicked one of your horns . “these are going to be tough and rigid, great for headbutting castle doors open. And those wings are going to be even bigger … im going to train you to be a killing machine, so if you want my love, freeze. Something,”

You blinked a few times looking around then back up at him to see he had his arms crossed and not looking at you. “Just.. “ you exhaled seeing some ice fall to the ground. “More..” another big exhale , more ice.

You let go of Bakugos leg to take a few steps forward, eyeing a bee on a flower. You held your hands out to guide the ice onto the flower freezing it solid along with the bee.

“Good. now something bigger”

“Bigger?”

“Hurry up”

You scanned all around holding your bangs up to make it easier to see. Nothing was really around .. except for .. a stray falcon picking at some scraps. Your wings spread and you felt.. Different.. You just wanted Papas love..

A wicked grin slipped up bakugos face once he heard the screech of the bird.

*

[chaosciara]

where the arch meets

I have not read King of Scars so I do not know anything about the plot therefore some information about Nikolai could be outdated. This is also the first time I've ever written for this fandom so hopefully I did the characters justice. My friend and I watched S&B and were talking about ships and I said I wanted to see Kaz and Nikolai together which then prompted whatever the hell happened here, please enjoy!

CW: mentions of blood, mentions of gambling

There are no spoilers for the S&B show

masterlist; my links

[image has alt text]

Kaz stares out the window, a glum look on his usually stoic face. Ketterdam was alive, unusual joy spinning itself in the streets as the city busies itself for the arrival of the one and only King Nikolai Lantsov. The festivities of the "Peacekeeper" as he had been so lovingly named, had started three long days ago. Every day that Kaz wakes up to popping streamers, and the litany of ballads associated with the King's ever growing list accomplishments, is a day his stolen peace gets ripped from beneath him. He's not even sure why the King is so popular. He can't say he was anywhere near impressed enough at their brief meeting to warrant the five different ballads about those hazel eyes alone. Kaz looks down at the papers littering his desk, crow club books and bank statements for his various 'assets', communications between the various councils in Ravka and Ketterdam, and the most recent letter from Inej, smelling of the sea.

Their friendship is something of a mystery to the world but between them she is the rock that kept him steady. Even now, with her sailing the high seas content to her freedom, he can feel the unwavering quiet of her. Briefly, he wishes she were here. She would make him laugh, tell him to stop being so glum about the brown-eyed, blonde haired king if he insisted on doing nothing about it. He wouldn't let his amusement at her teasing show, but later in the safety of his room, this room, he'd let a rare smile show. He misses their quiet friendship most of all. But she is happy on her ship with her crew and he has shit to do. He always has shit to do.

The thought, stark and unwelcome, snaps him back to the present. A scowl replaces his faraway look as he shuts the window to the new round of baudy tunes drifting up and straight into the headache knocking at his skull. He sits back down harder than he intended, and winces at the pain that lances down his back and into his leg. He can hear Nina, chastising him for not putting on the salve, for not resting. But he doesn't have the time. He can't do something as normal as rest. He has a city to run. Or at least the underbelly of a city to run.

The statements stare at him but the numbers swirl like melting ice-cream in a bowl, and he wants to throw the pages in the fire in frustration. But he has never acted on emotion, and he will not start now. So he pushes away from his desk, cane already cool under his fingertips, and makes his way to the floors of the crow club.

The passage muffles the sounds of chips cluttering on a table, and glasses set down hard on the wood, and shouting when someone wins, loses, almost gets decked for supposed cheating. But as soon as he steps past the doors, nodding at the two guards he'd posted at this entrance, all of that chaos surrounds him. There is no hush as he steps into the room, no blanket of fear or anger or anything. They don't even know he is there. They won't until he makes himself known. Spending years with his Wraith had taught him some things, even with the click of his cane. He looks to the corner expecting to spot Jesper; his heart, as it had done every day since they had all parted ways, clenched upon seeing the empty space where his sharpshooter was supposed to be. The disappointment doesn't stop his eyes from travelling to the table closest to the kitchens— or as the Nina lovingly called it, the muck hut— where Wylan was usually hunched over notebooks or losing to just about everyone, except maybe Inej, in a game of cards.

He misses them. He'd never tell them, would never let it so much as flash across his face, but he couldn't stop his heart from the same onslaught. He felt it every day. Every time he looked to his window and Inej wasn't perched atop it. Every time he walked to the gambling tables and Jesper wasn't leaning over it, brown eyes shining with hope. Every time he wandered the corridors of the club hearing Wylan's flute. When he decides to put salve on it's because he hears Nina's voice, sees her frown, as she tries so hard to heal them. He even misses Matthias but that is a road he doesn't allow himself to go down. A failure he cannot yet acknowledge. His trip down memory lane ends abruptly when a man with a hood over his eyes, shadowing his face, steps up to him.

"You Kaz, Kaz Brekker?" The voice is rough, almost too rough, but the lilting accent is familiar. Before he can place it the man is talking again.

"I want to speak with you, about a deal."

Kaz tilts his head, resting gloved hands on his cane as he takes the figure in. "Liar."

The man sputters jerking back, and just briefly he catches a glimpse of golden skin and something shiny pinned to his coat. "It's urgent!" The man's voice is not so rough, and that accent, charming in a way, bleeds through more and more.

"I'm not available for deals." It is not true, but he wants to see how they'll react, what they're capable of if he says no.

"You'll like this one." The roughness has been replaced by arrogance. And the world opens wide for Kaz.

"Come," He turns, already limping towards the doors and his rooms beyond. "Don't say anything until we're behind closed doors"

It takes them exactly one minute and twelve seconds to get to his study. As soon as he hears the door click behind him, he lifts his cane and with brutal precision he rips through the clasp at the man's chest and watches the coat land in a heap on his wooden floor. Letting the crows head of his cane fall back into his hand he finally looks up. "What are you doing here King?" The question holds more exhaustion than he's willing to admit.

"What?" The King of Ravka grins, beautiful and bright and full of arrogance, "You aren't happy to see me?"

And Kaz wants to tell him no and piss off and leave me alone, but his heart is pounding and there is blood rushing between his ears and he doesn't really remember what breathing does, how it works. Because this is the first time he's ever seen Nikolai. When they met all those years ago he was Sturmhond, the privateer. Since then Kaz has only seen posters, and art. But none of them, not a single one, has ever done the king justice. He is........ he is magic.

"Oh come on," The blonde is laughing. It sounds like water. It sounds like peace. "You can't expect me to act like a stranger after all the letters we've sent." Yes, the letters. The updates King Nikolai had requested about Ketterdam, about the barrel, about the illegal smuggling of grisha to work as slaves. Those letters. "What?" The King looks at him speculatively, amusement sparking in his hazel eyes— they suit him so much better than the green of Sturmhond. "Volcra got your tongue?"

“Didn't know you would be in town," Kaz manages to grind out. He hopes it sounds like irritation and not infatuation.

"The six million posters and seven ballads about my adventures aboard the Kingfisher were not notice enough?" That grin is back. It is ruining him. "Oh dear, next time I'll be sure to add floating parades to the mix."

"That's tomorrow." He glowers. He doesn't think the blonde could get anymore insufferable. He is wrong.

"Do you have plans to attend then?"

He ignores the question, the tease. "What are you doing here Lantsov?"

"I'm here for the festival Mr, Brekker."

"I mean here." He motions to the room, to him. "What are you doing in the Barrel, in my club—" He wants to say 'in my room'. He catches himself.

"I came," Nikolai steps a little closer. There's still do much distance between them, practically an ocean, but Kaz can feel the tension wrapping around his lungs. He wants out. He wants closer. He wants, he wants, he wants....... "To visit a friend Mr Brekker. I don't exchange letters detailing my failed attempt at diving through the sky with just anyone." Oh saints he's going to die. He's never going to survive this. His face is a brick wall, a crack where his frown breaks through.

"You are a busy man King, busier even, than i am." He wants to applaud himself for the steadiness of his voice. "I doubt that you had time to just pop by. So what do you want, Nikolai?"

There is a flash of something in those beautiful eyes, and he wants to chase it to the ends of the earth. "Must we always have an ulterior motive?" The voice is quiet, but it is filled with curiosity and emotions Kaz doesn't have the ability to unpack. "Is it not good enough that I wanted to see you Kaz."

The Underboss of Ketterdam becomes a rain, becomes wind, and earth, and gold. He sits down on his desk, uninterested in the groan of the wood as it tries to carry his weight. Nikolai looks at him, soft and open, all that charm hidden- packed away for a moment far removed from this one. Somehow the distance has shrunk between them until there is only two steps, maybe three before their bodies can collide. He knows Nikolai would not come closer, but some part of him wants the king to try. Wants to see what would happen. He shoves that part so far down it got to hell before him.

"Say something," The blonde whispers.

"How long till they realize you've snuck off?" The bark of laughter that escapes the king is like jurda straight into his bloodstream.

"We have an hour tops."

"Let's go." He throws a new hood, midnight blue and embellished with golden thread, at him. It's his own. He doesn't have time to find another. Nikolai puts it on, fastening the small gold clasp at his front, and Kaz has to remind himself to breathe when he sees how beautiful those colours are against that golden skin. It looks a thousand times better on Nikolai than it ever had in him.

"Where are we off to then?" The blonde asks, his familiar charm steady through his features once more. "You're not intending to kidnap me and sell me to the highest bidder are you?" Before he can even start to ignore the question Nikolai is carrying on. "I have to tell you I won't make a very high bid. I seem to have botched myself a little when I turned into one of the Darkling's little pets. I think my di—"

"Shut up will you," He snaps, black eyes scanning the club as they walk through it.

"A little tense Mr Brekker," He can hear the grin. He doesn't know whether he wants to slap it or stare at it. He keeps walking.

They're outside and it's just started to drizzle and he has the brief thought that maybe he shouldn't be making the king of Ravka gallivant in the rain. But then he catches a glimpse of Nikolai's expression, full of wonder and glinting with excitement and he can't turn back even if he wants to.

"Kaz," Saints he loves the way the blonde says his name. "I really think it's better if I know where we're going, sake of safety and all that."

"We're going to the docks."

"You're not intending to drown me, are you?" There is no concern hidden behind the question, only delighted amusement.

"If I had intended to be rid of you Nikolai," Kaz turns his head, stares at the man, "I would have done it the second you walked into my club."

"Even though you didn't know it was me?"

It's his turn to smirk, and he revels in it. "I know everyone that comes into my club, King." The title reverberates in his throat. He catches the flash in the royal's eye.

"Why are you taking us to the docks?"

"I want to show you something, privateer." The strangled noise he hears in answer makes him force down the smile threatening to erupt.

The rain is at that awkward stage where it's more than a drizzle but less than a downpour. The kind that seeps into your clothes, makes your bones wet before you can even feel it on your skin. But they're almost there, he can see their destination clear in front of him. They are quiet, a rare thing for Nikolai he thinks, as they walk. Every now and then he glances to his companion who is always staring at the world in wonder. Like every corner produces a new kind of thrill. Like he'll be able to collect them all and bottle them for his journey home.

"Why are you staring at my pretty face?" The subject of his hidden amazement asks. "You've never been one to appreciate beauty Mr Brekker. If you did you'd have commented on my lovely violet wax seals at least once." He fights the urge to roll his eyes at that. The wax seals were the least interesting thing about the letters. He usually ripped them open like a mad man, clawing for the content inside and reading it as if it were going to disappear before he could get to the, 'fondly, Nikolai Lantsov' at the end.

"I have more interest in the contents inside."

At that the King does roll his eyes, "Oh yes, the ever so interesting reports about dock lookouts and safe grisha arrivals."

"It's my business."

"Mhm" Is all the blonde has to say.

They step onto the docks, and the tap of his cane, louder, more prominent on the wood, rings slightly in his ears. It's a comforting sound. One he has come to rely on to keep him steady. Especially when there's a king walking in stride with him, a king who kind of looks like the sun just before it disappears over the horizon. A king who scents his letters with lavender because he wants people to know calmness. A king who has never touched him but always stands close enough that he can feel the heat of him.

He recognizes the marker that tells him they're in the right place and then he motions for Nikolai to stay behind him. "Its small so we'll have to be close together." He says quietly.

"Are you okay with that?" The question is so gentle, so full of worry it almost buckles his knees.

"I'll manage."

"Kaz," He sounds hesitant, he sounds worried. "You don't have to force yourself to do something for me."

"I'm not, now come on before it disappears." And then they're stepping into an alcove only slightly bigger than a coffin and they're so close and there's so little air. But still Nikolai is not touching him and the leather of Kaz's gloves is warm against his skin. There is no part if him exposed to the elements, except his face. He takes one breath, takes two. The king is looking at him with concern, it is swimming in his features.

"Look up." Together they tilt their heads, and as the weak sunlight, bogged by rain, sinks to the floor the gems buried in the stones of the roof above them come ablaze. Crimson reds, and sapphire blues, and forest greens, and golden yellows. The light fractures and morphs and dances around them, like coloured stars.

He had discovered this wonder in a burning rage, trailing blood down the docks. He'd beaten up a man who betrayed their gang- dirty work for the boss- but half way down the docks he'd thought he was being followed and he slipped into this little alcove. He comes back every chance he gets.

"This is—" For once King Nikolai Lantsov is speechless. "How did you even find such a thing?" The hood had fallen off his head when he looked up so every angle of his face is on sharp display. The miserable lighting only made him more golden as if he was defying the weather simply by existing. And the gemstones reflected in his eyes, turning them every shade of rare rainbow. One of three Kaz had ever seen in Ketterdam.

He just raises a brow. "We should be getting back, I'm sure they've already sounded the alarm."

The blonde snorts, "They're used to it by now."

"Oh you sneak off to visit all your friends?" They step out carefully, making sure not to disturb the structure or get caught in the act.

"Feeling less special?"

"Wondering if maybe you should pay your guards more."

They bicker all the way back, about everything, trading wit and meaningless insults in equal measure. Kaz insists on dropping Nikolai off at his lodgings and Nikolai insists he doesn't have to despite leading them towards the building he's staying in. When they finally arrive, it is with a sense of longing for more that settles between them. More time, more laughter, more traded quips, just more.

"Goodbye Mr Brekker." The King bows his head.

"Nikolai." He nods.

"Come visit me in Ravka soon." It's the line he prints in every letter, no matter how far apart their replies are, or how many other things they have going on. Kaz never acknowledges it. He won't put that kind of hope into them. He must stay here. He must work.

But today, with happiness bubbling under his skin, he cant help but let loose a small smile and a dangerous promise. "I'll try."

And fading under the bustle of people is a small golden plaque on the floor of the alcove. "To those we love, and love unconditionally." A bigger promise, one that has lasted through time itself.

"That's all we can do Kaz," Nikolai smiles. "We try."

[emmaannaelisabeth]

so, like i don't know why i've started to get so emotional writing the parts on this. but like.. on this episode of sailor-wife!kaz we can cry together. here's PART 12

wylan presses his lips into a thin line, looks up as jesper comes out from the guest room. blue eyes sweep over him, over the anxious frown on his face, and the stiffness of his otherwise so smooth movements. he looks at jesper's hands. his beautiful hands.

how can these hands have the power to rip the life out of a man's chest with just one simple twitch of a finger, just one squeeze on the trigger, and still be the hands that held melinda so carefully when she was only a baby? how can these hands make blood rush out through torn-apart skin, and still make wylan's heart flutter every time he lays eyes on them?

these are the hands that hold wylan's heart, that hold his soul, hold his life. they know all of him, they know the deepest corner of his heart, and every single spot of bare skin; they know his most secret desires and they know his greatest fears. these are the hands that hold him when the world comes crashing down, these are the hands that are steady when his own are not.

these are the hands that now twist in each other, with tremors running up from his fingers to his arms, deepening the frown on his face.

without a word, wylan walks up to jesper and closes his own hands around jesper's. he bows his golden head, looks at how their fingers entwine and close around each other. jesper's dark skin feels so cold against wylan's, and he lifts jesper's hands to his lips, presses a kiss on jesper's knuckles. blue eyes meet grey, as wylan lowers their hands again, and suddenly that warm light grey he loves so dearly, has turned dark.

wylan lifts his right hand to jesper's cheek, cups his jaw gently. and jesper closes his eyes for a moment, leans onto wylan's hand. just by looking, wylan can feel the weight pressing on jesper's heart, and he would do anything to lift it off. he takes a step closer and gently pulls jesper in. at first, jesper doesn't move, but then he draws in a sharp breath and falls into wylan's embrace.

wylan wraps his arms around jesper and holds him, feels his trembling chest against his own, feels jesper lean his head against wylan’s neck, feels him close his arms tightly around him.

what the hell happened?

a wave of anxiety washes over him, makes his guts twist and his heart flip. he’d seen inej upset many times, but this… seeing her like this… blue eyes close and he tries not to think about what he’d do if it was him. if it was melinda, or jesper.

saints, thank you. he feels guilty for thinking that, but he can’t stop his mind. he thanks everything alive and dead and holy and unholy that jesper is right here, and that melinda is playing in her room. that his husband is holding him, that his heart is beating, and that their daughter smiles just like she did yesterday.

saints know what happened to kaz and jordie. wylan’s heart feels like it’s being turned inside out. they way inej wheezed their names, the way she reached out even though they weren’t there, the way she asked where her son was. wylan’s mind spirals. anything could have happened. he sees blood. sees burnt socks. sees a broken cane.

he sees a lifeless jordie beside an already gone kaz.

and wylan feels his heart shatter and his eyes burn with tears; he buries his face in jesper’s shoulder. they can’t be dead, he thinks. my brother can’t be dead. kaz can’t be, he always made it out, he always made it, he always…

please.

and then wylan’s heart freezes to ice, and for a second he can’t breathe. jordie. what about jordie? saints, please no. the world almost starts spinning round wylan, and he clutches jesper tighter, desperately trying to shove the picture of jordie’s limp body out of his mind. but he can’t fight it, jordie’s blue eyes shine bright in front of his inner gaze, and the tears spill from wylan’s eyes.

what if it was melinda? what if she was… what if my girl was…

and then it’s her. in his head, it's her. her eyes empty, drained of that beautiful glittering that was her. her golden hair stained by crimson, her small body cold, her mouth open, her neck twisted-

wylan detangles himself from jesper, turns his head towards the corridor that leads to melinda’s room, feels his soul want to run to her, just to check, just to make sure... “what happened?” he then whispers, looks back at jesper, forces himself to stay.

jesper bites his lip - another day, another time, wylan would’ve grinned and kissed him - and meets wylan’s gaze, his grey eyes black with pain. “all i got out of her was that someone took them”, he says. “and kaz got... shot.” wylan shudders, swallows hard. “perhaps jordie too.” jesper’s voice breaks at the end.

“do we know if they’re…” alive?

jesper shakes his head, tears prick in his eyes. if this was fifteen years ago, their eyes would have lightened up with the flames of determination and they’d breathed the smoke of vengeance, gazes hungry for blood. but now, only terror pulses through their veins, only anguish rules their hearts.

they’re not the teenagers they were. it’s not only their own lives at stake now, all of them have smaller ones to care for. wylan and jesper have melinda. kaz and inej have jordie (yes, wylan burns the present tense of have into his mind, as if he could make it stay that way by sheer power of will). and nina and matthias have the twins.

they’ve all got so much more to lose now. so much neither of them can afford to lose. so much that would kill them all if it got ripped from their side.

“i don’t know anything”, jesper says. “not more than that.” it’s not enough, wylan wants to yell. jesper shakes his head slowly. “she just kept saying the same things over and over when i helped her get into bed, and i-” he stops, sighs. “-i don’t know. and it kills me.”

wylan nods. i know. it's not like kaz uses to say, not at all actually. it's not shame that eats men whole. it's love.

“but i’m gonna go down to the harbour just to check for myself”, jesper says, places a kiss on wylan’s temple. wylan closes his eyes as jesper’s soft lips brush his skin, as his nose touches his red locks, just like so many other times. the action carries only grief now though, grief and struggling hope. like a small light in the storm, the flame of hope in their hearts fight to survive.

because they both know that every second that passes pulls them further away from a reality where jordie can play with melinda again, where kaz can sit with them at the table and smile smugly as he places out his last card, winning the game, like always.

there are far too many who hate the man kaz no longer is, for kaz to get out alive from this without their help. and they’re already running out of time.

“can you watch the girls?” jesper takes his lips of wylan’s temple and looks into his eyes. wylan nods.

“be safe”, he says. i don’t know what i’ll do if you don’t come home.

jesper huffs, forces a smile. “of course”, he says. “it’s my jesper talent, remember?”

wylan feels his lips curl into a smile - it feels foreign in a sad moment like this. “i remember”, he says, nods at jesper to go, watches as he turns his back to wylan and walks out the door.

as soon as jesper has left, that smile is gone, and wylan pulls both hands through his hair, draws in a trembling breath. he shuts his eyes, tries to keep the tears from spilling out of his eyes. he leans onto the wall for support, as his legs suddenly seem too weak to bear him up. they're too weak to bear him and his heart, heavy with worry. this isn’t like me, he thinks. but then again, he is only wylan. wylan fahey.

[dedskul]

A Quilt of Souls

Would you ever sell your soul?

I did once

Well, I mean it is a thing you can only do once, right?

I sold of all of my soul to someone who didn't deserve it

They consumed it right in front of me and I shook and screamed in horror when they selfishly spat out the leftovers on the ground with a grimace

Leaving naught but tiny crumbs of me to be picked over by rats

There was nothing left

Where my soul used to be was nothing but a deep, dark hole

The pain was immeasurable

It felt like I was suffocating while being burned alive, just without the release of death

My blood was boiling

My skin liquefying and falling off the bones

My body was ablaze but my chest was cold

My heart frozen still

My lungs held ice-sickles and snow

It was so excruciating I forgot how to cry

I reared my head back to the heavens, closed my eyes, and let myself be hollowed out

When I awoke the rats had come for my body

They covered me head to toe with their fat, greedy bellies

But all I could feel was the emptiness

The hole in me that I needed to fill

I grabbed one of the rats

I viciously ripped off its head with my teeth and drank

My lips wrapped around the still wiggling neck as I sucked out its guts in desperation

There had to be some of me left, somewhere

I would behead and eat a room full of rats, even if it only meant I retrieved a fraction of what I once was

I'm regretful to admit that wasn't the case

That when I finally crawled away with fresh vermin blood still dripping off my chin

Not a single shred of my soul was retrieved

I couldn't live like that

I couldn't go on with a frozen heart and a blizzard in my chest

I couldn't continue to live without a soul

I had to do something!

I'm not the villain I was made out to be!

I'm not the bad guy!

I did what I had to do to survive

I had to make a new soul

I could have chosen the easiest route

I could have just stolen someone elses

But like I said, I'm not the bad guy

I would never put another person though the fresh hell that I went though

NO

I would be careful

Methodical

Gentle even

I would simply just take a piece and start a collection

Just a tiny little pinch

That's all I would need

I would set my sights, looking for people who were bright and warm

Bubbly people full of happiness and light

That big vacant hole in me was drawn to them like a moth to a flame

I would befriend them and simply wait for the right moment

When their guard was down, when I had met all the requirements for their trust

I would go in and yank a piece of them away

A piece of them to keep with me

A piece of them to add to my project

For years I slaved away, taking pieces of other peoples souls

I don't think I hurt them

I don't think most of them even noticed my petty crime

When my collection grew heavy I retreated back to my hideaway

My little rat cave where I was devoured in front of God

I scattered all of my little pieces on the bare dirt floor and started my work

With a smile painted on my face I started sowing the pieces together

Using the fur of those damned little rodents as my thread, I sowed the souls into a patchwork

A messy conglomerate of every person who crossed my path

When I finally finished I held up the quilt of souls with both hands

I watched, mesmerized by my own creation

In the dank darkness of the cave the quilt shined

It shimmered within its own light

The rats ran across the room, squeaking in fear as I laughed for what felt like the first time in centuries

I cracked open my ice-box chest and carefully started folding the blanket inside

I wrapped it around my still frosty heart and tucked it in around my glacial lungs

I could feel the warmth as soon as I closed my chest

I could feel my heart thawing out

I could feel the sleet storm in my lungs turn into a soft, warm rain

I could feel again

I stumbled out of the cave, like Jesus Himself, I reemerged from my own death

With God like confidence I ran to the nearest body of water

Not to walk across, but to fall to my knees and stare at my reflection in the waves

And that's exactly what I saw

A refection

A refection of every soul I had gathered stared back at me

For a moment fear struck me

A primal fear in knowing that I would never be the same

That no matter how hard I tired

No matter how many souls I reaped

I would never be me again

I tell you this story, not to scare you

No

I have no interest in such trivial things

I tell you this as a warning

A cautionary tale

For when you compliment me

For when you speak highly of me

When you go to your friends and family and exclaim that you've made a new friend

For when I smile at you

For when my eyes shine in tune to yours

I ask you to remember the quilt of souls keeping me alive

I ask you to look at me and then back at yourself

I ask you to note the stark differences that make me more of a person but less of a human

I ask you, would you ever sell your soul?

How about just a piece?

Just a piece

For me?

Please?

[zero-rider]

A grim truth

This wasn't supposed to happen

His original idea was to face Salem as much as he could so his friends could leave Atlas before it fell in Mantle, which it was okay with him, since all the civilians were evacuated from both Atlas and Mantle and were being staying in many Atlas ships by the order of the new general of Atlas; Winter Schnee, they were also being protected by what remains of the Ace-ops and Penny with her still newly winter maiden powers. He also planned to fall along with Atlas and Salem if he didn't make it, but if his Aura and semblance could take the fall, then he would be more than fine in his book, it also would be more than fine if she just struggle to get out of the debris of Atlas while they escape,

But in just some minutes, his plan failed. His Aura could only took 5 hits form her magic, 4 if you didn't count an ice stalactite that was tanked by his semblance and reduced his Aura to 1%. Atlas was falling faster than he though and he just got a call from Ruby that everyone of his friends were searching for him, so the idea of them leaving Atlas in one piece was a colossal no right now. There was also the factor that three Seers were keeping him in the ground with his face on the dirt and in front of the queen of the Grimm, he was still panting and searching for an opportunity to escape from the Seers tight hold

"don't fight it, they will tighten their hold on you the more you fight" Salem smiled while holding and inspecting Jaune's sword, the same shining and sharp metal that cut her head four minutes ago "an excellent blade for an incompetent huntsmen, looks like Ozma has been lowering his standards about his soldiers"

"funny you say that, because i remember this incompetent huntsmen cutting your head minutes ago. With that said, i think i'm a pretty good huntsman" smugly replied the blond before he was kicked in the face by the pale woman

"you bragging about that little mistake? oh my, Ozma really has really lower his standards. I'll admit, you lasted longer than the previous Ozma pawn who faced me, i'll give you that" she chuckle, then she walked slowly to the almost broken shield from Jaune, just a short distance away from him

"why, thank you. i would have last longer, but i wasn't prepared to face a magical old hag" the blond said, before he was slapped by one of the seers and caused a little cut on his right cheek

"do you have a death wish or something?" she shook her head in disapproval, holding the faced-downd shield "youngsters these days. anyway, i know from two certain agent of mine, that you are quite close to that silver-eyes spawn, so i believe that i can ask a certain question. how do you activate the Relic of Knowledge"

"you have to say immas ucke-uuughh!" the seers tighten their hold on Jaune and he was lifted to the same level as Salem's face, whose red and black eyes were looking straight at him

"wrong answer, i will say it one more time and slowly so you could understand. How. do. you. activate. the Relic. of Knowledge" Salem took the shield and inspectione it, it surprised her the weight a little, but the Arc family emblem was what took her attention. It was like certain emblem in that tower she used to live, but inverted, before she was what it was now. Sadly for her, her blond prisoner still had enough energy to insult her again and suffer the consequences, and took her away from her memories momentarily

"fine, i think it was ligma-AAAAAAAHHHHH!!" this time he was meet with a little (in her words) thunder from her. She didn't even looked at him when she fire it, she just looked again to his shield and with some hand moves, a diamond was put in his shield, in the middle of the inverted emblem

Something hit her in that moment, it was a still existing pain in her chest that was later replaced with joy for a few moments, then sadness took the joy's place. If what she thought was true, then her daughters (or at least one) could have lived after that explosion of magic that take them from her. Many thoughts came to her mind about what could had happened so one or all her daughters could have survived in that moment, many were about Ozma hiding their daughters from her. Just a few were about none of them knowing that their children were alive, and they left them before checking if they were alive. But that could take her mind another time, right now it was about her descendant and how she was torturing him

She droped the shield, and the Seers released a confused jaune, who touched his jaw to feel any other damage apart from the kick from her and kneeled to recover from the still fresh thunder he received. Salem, on her part, was having an internal struggle. She was just looking at him, the way his eyes and body were showing fear for the first time, the way he was trying to comprehend what was happening and why Salem didn't used a Grimm to turn him in nothing more than just a pile of flesh, and how he was screaming mentally at himself to run. It got worse when she began to cry

"my family... i'm trying to kill my family again... just like thousands of years ago" tears leaked from her eyes, just as her bloody red eyes looked deep at his sapphire blue ones. Nostalgia came, it was like watching at her youngest daughter again, only turned into a boy, but the resemblance was evident

"your... family? what. what are you talking about?" his question was not answered, for something worse than a truth was now to take place

"it can't be... Ozma, he... Ozma!" hell broke loose, she released all kind of spells destroying constructions and even creating more craters in the destroyed streets of Atlas "HOW DARE YOU USE OUR CHILDREN AGAINST ME, OZMA?!!" what she did was like a light spectacle. Fire, thunder, ice, earth, wind and any other elements where shooted to all directions from her hands, mouth and eyes, she didn't even spare one of her Seers, but strangely, not a single hair was touched from him, but that didn't took the possibility of a stray attack coming his way, after all, he didn't had Aura and an attack with that kind of magnitude would kill him immediately

After what it felt like an eternity, she calmed herself enough to give a mental order to her seers to leave them alone or dissapear, which they did the second with out an objection and left after their labour was complete. Jaune for his part, was still scared and on his knees, the sovereign of the grimm used all her power to vent for her anger at Ozpin in front of his face, she decimated an entire block of Atlas in her anger with just one of her spells, the other only did craters deeper than the previous one in erratic shoots of magic. All that show of her power made him understand a little the ex-headmaster of Heaven academy, if her power scared him for almost destroyed Atlas in her irrational anger, then what a rational Salem could do with all that magic made him tremble

and suddenly, his worries and fears were lost after a single question from her part "what's your name, my child? i need, no... i must know the name of my family"

"fa... family?" he was lost of words, scared of the implications and he was hyperbelint

"yes, my child. You are my family" Salem, for the first time in millenia, truly smiled, a bright smile showed and more tears filled her eyes, this times were tears of happiness

"that, that's impossible. Ruby and, Ozpin said-" he was cut from his rambling, as his belief were being proven by Salem, who was now walking with her arms spread, waiting for a hug he didn't wanted, but was too shocked to even try to fight it

"oh please, Ozma always liked to keep his secrets well hidden. Just look at me, if people knew about my existence, do you think we would had this conversation? Would you be alive or would you be dead?. Who knows? Maybe you could have had a good life if it wasn't for Ozma's silence, but not anymore" she broked the hug and stroked his hair, like his mother used to when he was a younger and more tiny, now he recieved from his many-greats grandmother "your name, darling, tell me you name"

"Jaune... Arc" certain memories inside him made sense in that moment, why he was admitted in Beacon even with his fake transcripts in first place, why was he named team leader and why Tyrian was interested in him. Was he there because Ozpin wanted? Did Ozpin made him team leader for a master plan he had in the moment? he didn't knew it, but... a part of him told him that he did

"then, Jaune Arc, accept this gift from me" her ivory hand came to his chestplate and without much effort, she tear it from his body, then she put the same hand in his chest "AWAKE!"

His chest began to hurt and some weird black liquid enraptured his body, he felt good, it was relaxing and for some reason, he forgot why he was afraid, so his mind just sleep, he was safe, he was fine and he would obey. Then, the black liquid over his body become a black under suit, his white and gold gloves changed to a white and red armored gloves that covered all his arm and with sharp nails that resembled claws on his fingers. His foots also got white and red armored protection that covered all his legs and toe caps that looked like feets of a beast, with a white armored belt over his waist with the Salem/Arc emblem in the middle painted black instead of yellow. His chestplate came next, this one was more stylish than his previous one, the area of the pectorals were bulky and had red pattern over them that looked like roots and a yellow gem bellow the pectorals

Just when he was about to receive his helmet, a well known voice for him came to his ears "JAUNE!" it was Ruby, who first looked at her friend with a worried look, then she looked at the Grimm queen with hate "leave him alone!!" the red tipped haired girl sayed before she deployed Crescent Rose and taked a shoot at Salem's head, who recieved with a smile

"a silver-eyed girl descendant of Ozpin trying to save my descendant. Ironic" she said, still with her hand in the armored chest of her descendant, whose look was in the floor

"desc- Jaune's your descendant!?" Ruby lowered her weapon a little, shocked but not fully believing the words of her enemy

"that's right, silver eyes, your beloved... friend, i guess? is my family. Please, show her, my child" Salem patted his armored shoulder and stood from her previous posture, letting Jaune stood

"yes, mother" Ruby gasped at his face, his previous saphire eyes were now blood red eyes with black sclera and black veins coming from his eyes. there was also some white hairs in his previous blond hair and his hair was the same when she meet him for the first time, long and messy, instead of his spiky short hair

Before she could even mutter a word, his face was covered by white helmet with sharp fangs, long wolf like ears, some simulated fur made with the same white metal coming from the sides, it was practically a wolf helmet showing his fangs with yellow eyes.

He would later took his sword from the floor and gave it a new form with the black liquid, it was more longer, had black root like patterns in the blade and the guard of the sword was replaced with what it looked like bat wings

This wasn't Jaune anymore, not the one who was always for her when she feeled down, the one who cried when they meet again in Argus and not the same vomit boy she was falling for. this was... as much it broke her heart, another Grimm, one she didn't and hoped never to face. His sword was lifted in order for a horizontal strike, but his target moved faster than him and avoided his attack to recover the shield of Jaune, with the diamond shape thing out of the arcs of his emblem. She hugged the shield and gived the armored man a last look, before the tears could leak from her eyes and used her semblance to get away

"Ru...by..." his distortioned voice was the last she heard before flee from there at the max of her speed, with Jaune's previous shield in her hands and her heart breaking on her chest

[plush-rabbit]

Bloody Knuckles

Word Count: 2.3K

A/N: Gets a bit scar-phobic under the cut. If you have scars, you’re super cool and valid!! Plus we get to be scar buddies! Also a bit of blood mention! 

You two walk together, hand in hand, while he talks about upcoming meetings and you listen, offering the occasional hum or nod. If you were to be honest, you had stopped listening some time ago, only half tuning in. You much preferred to hear his voice, he could be reading the back of a cereal box and you’d still find it enjoyable only because it came out of his mouth. 

“You aren’t listening,” he accuses, not even sparing you a glance.

You shrug, a nervous smiling appearing. “Eh. I am hearing your voice though and I think that makes up for it.”

“I could have been planning a date and trying to get your opinions on it.”

You snort. “Cute lie. First of all we literally can’t go anywhere public. Second, you never plan dates. Third, even if you did, you like to surprise me.”

He sighs. “I could still have food brought over and all of that ambiance shit.”

“Wow ambiance shit,” you sigh in a mock lovingly way, “you really know how to woo me.”

“Shut up,” he tells you and you stick your tongue out at him.

You both start to turn the corner, only to be pulled back. You look at him, mouth parted open, ready to question him, when you notice his jaw twitch and his eyes narrow. You turn to the corner, brows furrowed and that’s when you hear the voices. They make no attempt to keep their voices hushed, speaking out loud and brazen.

“Look I know he’s out boss and stuff but-” a gruff voice starts.

“No, no! I get it!” That one sounds a bit more flustered, rushed and shaky. “I mean, he isn’t totally awful looking but all his scars? Geez, get some moisturizer or somethin’,” the voice laughs. “I just feel sorry for his partner.”

“You think they had to fuck their way to the top?” The first voice snorts. “They were there since they were the League of Villains, right?”

“Lots of fucking then,” the second one breathes out. “He’d actually be cute if he had less scars but ugh,” they laugh, “thinking about it gives me the chills.”

“At least he looks scary. I’ll give him that. Intimdatin’ and shit.”

You face scrunches and you release your hand from Tomura’s ready to step in and give those two a piece of your mind when Tomura grabs onto the bottom of your shirt. You turn around and soften your features. 

“Tom-”

“I have to go do something,” his voice is a tad tighter and he leans forward to kiss you, only to pull away and peck your cheek. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

You watch him walk away, shoulders squared and steps rushed. Your shoulders slump and your hand lifts a bit, daring to reach out for him but by the time it’s stretched in front of you, he’s already turned at another corner.

You click your tongue and tighten your jaw. You strain to hear if the voices are still mindlessly talking and when they are, you turn the corner, a dark intent in your eyes.

-

You’re in the shared bedroom, holding a melting ice pack against your chin as you examine your hand. You turn it over and blow cool air on it, wishing away the sting that the fresh wounds bring. You aren’t too badly damaged, just bits of cut on both your knuckles and a dark bruise already forming on your jaw.

The pain has mostly faded, all that remains are a dull throbbing and a slight sting. Your only real worry is when you take a shower and the water will sting your wounds.You lay in bed, already feeling spent after your little brawl with the two shit talkers. You smile at the memory of the fight. You had gotten the jump on them so they were scattered and surprised when you attacked. A nasty trick, they spat but you didn't see it that way. A part of you actually swells in pride, proud at the cracking of bones and rush of blood. Your little attack should shut them both up for the time being.

The door opens to the room, swinging wide and colliding with the door stopper. You wince and rise, raising your brows at Tomura who glowers at you.

“You know if you break the door we won’t have any more privacy.” 

“What the fuck happened?” You open your mouth to speak and he cuts you off. “I get a fcking call about how you and two other people fought in the hallways like a bunch of high schoolers,” the door slams behind and he walks briskly towards the bed.  “What the hell,” he seethes.

You swallow and press the ice pack closer to your face. “I uh- I’m fine by the way,” he rolls his eyes. “I’m sorry?”

“Try again.”

“I’m not sorry.” he gives you a look and you throw your legs over the bed and pat the space next to you. “I didn’t like how they were talking about you so I got into a fight.” His eyes narrow and his hand clenches into a fist. “I won! Aren’t you proud?”

He’s silent for a moment. His eyes glaze over to the ice pack that reddens your skin and stains with water. The bruise is barely visible beneath the bunched up paper towels. His eyes dip to your hands that are marred with cuts and scrapes. They shine a bright red with hints of pinks.

He runs a hand through his hair and gives out an irritated sigh. He plops down next to you, and glances over to you, with a tired look in his eyes. He reaches over and grabs your hand. "Tch. You're a dumbass, you know," he mutters quietly, holding your hand in his. "I have to clean up your mess now."

You scoff and hold the ice pack against your jaw. "That's what I like about you," you speak softly. He looks at you quizzly and you lower your eyes to stare at his hand which holds your tenderly. "You act like things are a bother- connection, relationships and all- but in the end, you really care about those close to you," you shrug and reach over to peck his scar, "it's nice."

His fingers jump in your hand and he can feel his cheeks heat in admiration? Embarrassment? He doesn't know, he's never been one for these types of emotions but you always manage to bring it out in him. He swallows and he suddenly wishes that he had water with him.

"Why? You aren't usually the confrontational type." His fingers brush over the tears in your knuckles. Bright red stained out against your skin and he finds it endearing, a type of admiration where even the most delicate can still bare its claws and fight. But when you flinch and hiss through your teeth, he frowns. You're still injured. A cold ice pack freezing your skin and dripping water onto the bed.

You take a sharp breath through your nose and turn your head away from him. "I don't know."

"Wrong answer," he mutters.

You shift uncomfortably, your palms growing clammy and when you try to pull away, he holds your hand tighter. His eyes stare at you expectantly.

"Tomura," you bounce in your seat, squeezing your eyes shut, refusing to look at him.

"Come on. Out with it. I don't have all day. I'm busy- especially after your little stunt." 

"I already told you-" you puff out yours cheeks- "they were saying mean things about you."

"The comments from earlier?" You nod. "They don't bother me."

"Yes they do!" He startles but you continue on, now wrapping your hand around his and holding it tight. "Its okay if they do Tomura. You're still human and people- it's fine if the words bother you Tomura.” You inch closer to him, placing the ice pack down on the bed, the paper towel that covers it, is translucent and the condensation spreads and starts to stain the bed. “I don’t- You already went through so many things alone Tomura,” you squeeze his hand, “but you don’t have to anymore.” 

He doesn’t know what to make of your words. He knows that you speak the truth, that all your words to him at this moment are genuine. They are soaked in your love and comfort, a desperate plea in your voice to get him to understand, and to listen to you.

He tries to find his own words, to come up with some sentence that will put an end to this discussion, to just let him get off your grasp and go somewhere and hide under the covers like a child. The thought makes him flush in embarrassment. He doesn’t want to feel like a child, to feel so small and hopeless but you make him feel that way. No, that’s not the proper wording for it. You make him crave the sweet words that you tell him, you make him want to curl up and rest his head, you make him covet your warmth- to be protected. Every delicate word that you’ve told him made him believe that he was worth loving, that he was worth something. He understands why heroes say that they have a reason to go to, why families mourn the death or injury of someone. You make him believe that he has something worth fighting for. You make him want to survive and strive for the future. 

He startles when he feels your cold hand on his face. You mumble an apology and he shakes his head. Your hand slides away and it leaves him colder than before. His hand covers yours, ring and pinky finger, tapping against yours gently. “It’s fine.”

“I don’t think it is,” you mumble. Ah, you’re still on the previous topic. He opens his mouth to speak but you press forward. “You’re getting glassy eyed Shiggy.” Your voice cracks and his eyes widen a fraction when he notices your own eyes are glassy. 

“Shiggy, huh?” He hasn’t heard that nickname in forever. After you two started dating, you always referred to him as his first name or a variation of the sorts- even a sweet pet name. 

“I thought you might like some nostalgia,” you sigh, a gentle smile pulling on your lips.

“Feels like forever since I heard that nickname,” he replies.

“You don’t like it?” you smile apologetically. “Should I go back to Tomura? Tomu-kun?” You inch closer to him with every nickname, pressing yourself flush against him. “Love? Dear? Honey? Sweetheart? Cutie-pie?” 

He chuckles softly and shakes his head. “You’re being insufferable.”

“Yeah, but you love it.” You press your lips against his jaw and your hand slides down to his neck, curving around him. Your voice takens on a lower tone and you move to wrap your arms around him, moving one to the back of his head and making him rest on your shoulder. He buries himself into the crook of your neck, his hands pressed next to you, scratching at the plum color duvet. “They’re wrong, you know that right? You aren’t gross because of your scars. Plus, even if you do look intimidating- which you don’t- you’re still cute with that little pout and your very cute smile.” You stroke his hair, parting his snow colored hair through your fingers, ridding of any entanglement while you hold him in your arms. “You’re you and that’s perfect. It’s more than enough for me- it’ll always be more than enough. Your scars are just like marking points where I can kiss you. Your eyes are bright and full of love and filled with passion. Your hands fit into mine perfectly.” He can feel his face begin to heat up and he wonders if you can feel it too. “You can change the world, but for the time being, let me protect you. I’ll kick anyone’s ass if they say something mean. We can both protect each other.”

“You don’t have to protect me,” he whispers against your neck.

“No, I know that. But I want to.” Tears burn in his eyes and he closes them slowly, careful to not let any slip. “You might not believe it Tomura, but I want to protect you. I want to be by your side. And if that means getting bloody knuckles, then so be it.”

He buries himself deeper into your neck, his hands having risen to clutch at the back of your shirt, fabric straining and he swallows tightly, finding the simple task to be harder than usual. He lets out a shaky breath and feels burning tears prick the corner of his eyes.

“I’m always going to be here for you Tomura. You’re- You mean a lot to me. I’m following you because you mean something and I know that whatever happens, we can face it together. I’m not going to leave you Tomura. Not ever.” You tighten your hold on him and he does the same. 

“Okay,” he mutters- it’s broken and inaudible, his lips ghost over your neck, the tingling sensation remaining far after his lips have stopped moving. You hold him tight in your arms, not moving an inch when he scoots closer to you, not daring to make a noise or move a fraction of an inch when you can feel tears meet your neck. You rub his back and you hold tight in your arms. And when he pulls away with a slightly red nose and red rimmed eyes with a hoarse voice and trembling lips, you only press a kiss against him and offer to take a nap. He nods mutely and collapses onto the bed. You follow suit and open your arms. He snuggles into your chest and you brush your fingers through his hair as his breathing slows into an even pace and he eventually drifts into sleep.

[jaskierswolf]

The Howling of Wolves pt.2/3

TW for the whole story: Angst with happy ending, kidnapping, mentioned previous child abuse, mentioned torture (but off page), Major character injury and recovery, canon typical violence

Previous

Jaskier gasped awake as a bucket of ice cold water was dumped over his head. “Oh bloody hell, fuck that’s cold.” He spluttered through mouthfuls of water.

His hands were bound in cuffs that were chained to the wall. The metal almost burnt his skin meaning they were laced with dimeritium. He was all too familiar with dimeritium handcuffs, they had been a staple of his childhood during the experiments of his youth. Just to be sure he tried to let out his magic and shift. It would be idiotic not to try, but sure enough he barely felt a ghost of his magic over his skin.

At least who ever had taken him had allowed him to keep his clothes.

There was an unsettling itch just below his skin which he hadn’t felt in months which was bothering him.

How long had it been since he shifted? Not since before Geralt had gone off on his werewolf hunt, perhaps even a few days before that. Not long enough for him to be feeling like this though. It was normally at least a couple of weeks before he started to feel cramped in his own skin.

Fuck. How long had he been unconscious…

Unless whatever was in that dart had messed with his magic more than he thought.

“Geralt?” It was a long shot but he had to ask, at the very least he could work out whether his boyfriend was in danger.

“Your witcher isn’t here, petal.”

Jaskier’s heart sank and he felt a dizzy panic hit him like a giant.

“No.” He whispered.

He couldn’t be here. Not now, not again.

“Now, is that anyway to greet your mother, Julian?” His mother stepped out of shadows, and people wondered where he got his flare for the dramatics.

“Well, I would say it’s lovely to see you, mother, but I am currently chained to the wall.” He held up his bound hands as if to prove his point. “So really I’d rather be on my way and out of your hair, if you don’t mind.”

She laughed. “Oh dear boy, the cuffs are for your own good.”

He snorted. “Oh yeah, heard that one before.” He muttered.

“If we can just work out how to cure you then everything will be ok. You don’t need to be a monster.” She cooed, the same shit that she’d been spewing for years before his escape.

“I am not a monster!” He snapped. “Geralt knows that.”

“That witcher is no better than the beasts he slays!” His mother shrieked. “I only ever loved you, darling. Why must you fight me?”

“Loved me?” Jaskier scoffed. “You hate my very existence, or do you just hate the reminder that you cheated on your husband, that you’re stuck in a loveless marriage?”

“Gag him!” His mother ordered and Jaskier’s chains were yanked hard. He fell back against the floor.

“Hmmph!” He protested as one of the servants tied something around his head.

“Now, shall we begin?” His mother knelt down and cupped his cheeks. He saw his own eyes reflected back at him. There had never been any doubt of who his mother had been. His eyes were the spitting image of hers.

It had taken him a long time to learn to love his eyes.

“Hmmph.” He grumbled and rolled his eyes at her, shaking the cuffs on his hands. He’d never been very good at keeping his hands still.

She stroked a finger along his cheek and he tried to turn away.

How had he ended back in this hell?

He just hoped Geralt would find him soon.

___________________________________

The witchers of Kaer Morhen had gathered in a dingy looking cave. Geralt was pacing irritably across the entrance of the cave. It had been weeks since Jaskier’s disappearance. He’d tried to track his partner on his own but whoever had taken him had been too good so he’d sent messages to his pack and waited, impatiently for them to arrive at a fairly central location.

Lambert had been the last to arrive. He’d turned up with another witcher in tow, a blond blue-eyed witcher from the School of Cat. On any other day Geralt would have teased his redheaded brother about finally finding a friend who could tolerate him… but today his focus was on Jaskier.

“Wolf, you are making us all seasick with all that pacing.” Vesemir said in a calm voice.

Geralt snarled at the oldest witcher. How could he be so calm when Jaskier was missing?

“Jaskier is missing, possibly dead, and you are worried about getting seasick!” Geralt snapped.

“Hey.” Eskel punched his arm. “You’re not finding anyone like this. Getting pissed at Vesemir won’t help Jaskier, Geralt.”

Geralt groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I need to find him.”

Eskel pulled him into a hug and he buried his face in his brother’s shoulder. “We’ll find him. They’ll regret taking one of our pack. I promise you.”

“I’m gonna fucking murder them all.” Lambert agreed.

Geralt looked at Lambert over Eskel’s shoulder and scowled. “No. Whoever did this, they are mine.”

Lambert laughed darkly and nodded. “Alright, White Wolf. You have a deal.”

“No.” Vesemir said firmly. “We do not take revenge. We get the pup and we get out.”

“But Vesemir!” Lambert whined.

“We kill to defend ourselves, nothing more.” Vesemir’s voice left no room for arguments.

Geralt scowled and picked up his swords. “Let’s get moving.”

“Do we actually know where we’re going?” The blond witcher drawled as he pushed himself off of the wall. “Because it seems like not one of you actually has a plan?”

Geralt glared at the newcomer and his fingers itched to reach for his sword. He wouldn’t hurt Lambert’s friend but normally they would greet new witchers by sparring or wrestling, especially if they were being welcomed into the pack of wolf school witchers. Jaskier had gotten a pass, partly because he wasn’t a witcher and partly because he could turn into a fucking dragon. It also helped that Geralt had vouched for him.

Lambert had vouched for Aiden but Lambert didn’t have a good history of choosing friends, and Geralt didn’t trust Aiden yet.

“Don’t even think about it, you bastard.” Lambert snarled.

“You gave Jaskier concussion.” Geralt pointed out.

Lambert had the audacity to laugh. “Fair point, sorry Aiden, he gets a free hit when all this is over.”

“Idiots.” The cat witcher muttered. “All of you. Remind me again why we’re friends?”

“Because I’m pretty?” Lambert suggest.

Eskel snorted.

“Oi!” Lambert growled.

“Can we please focus!” Geralt snapped. “Jaskier is missing! I don’t care if Lambert’s pretty or not.”

“Yeah but…” Lambert protested.

“You’re gorgeous, darling, but the White Wolf has a point.” Aiden winked at Lambert who spluttered and went bright red.

“Right. Yup. Ok.” He muttered and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“What did you say that man called him?” Aiden asked, peering at Geralt with cool blue eyes.

Geralt frowned. “Julian.”

Aiden nodded. “Then I think I can help you, if you’re willing to trust me, dog?”

Geralt glanced at Lambert. His cheeks still matched the colour of his hair and he was scowling angrily at the world, but he nodded. The nod was barely perceptible even to Geralt but it was enough. Lambert trusted this new witcher and he was Geralt’s only hope right now to finding Jaskier.

He reached out his hand and Aiden grasped it tightly as they shook on it. “Help me.” Geralt all but pleaded.

“Alright, listen up dogs.” Aiden grinned, his fangs shining in the firelight.

____________________

Jaskier groaned as he was pulled to his feet. How long had he been here now, stuck in his old bedroom as if he’d been sucked into one of his nightmares?

His skin itched, his bones ached and he felt like he was on fire. The metal cuffs cut into his skin and his once cream shirt was now yellow and covered in splatters of blood.

The last time he’d been here, his family’s attempts at ‘curing’ him had been based on working out the limits of his abilities and where they had come from. This time his mother, without the help of mages, had decided to starve his magic instead. He  woke up shivering each morning and it was instinctive to him to try and shift but every morning he let out a pitiful cry and fell to the ground sobbing.

He was stuck.

He couldn’t breathe.

He had begged his mother to take off the cuffs, to allow him to shift. He’d promised he wouldn’t shift into anything dangerous or try to escape but he needed.

Gods he needed.

He ached.

But his mother just pulled him to her chest and stroked his hair, whispering that it would pass and that he was just experiencing withdrawal following his time with the witchers.

The witchers.

Geralt.

Where was Geralt?

Why hadn’t he come?

He’d been sure that Geralt would find him.

And it all hurt so damned much.

“F-fuck!” He stammered and curled up into a ball on the floor.

At least before his room had at least tried to resemble a bedroom. Now it was just a stone cold prison.

He felt sick to his stomach. He wasn’t sure how much more of this he could survive. He needed to shift. They knew that. They knew they were killing him in this crazy plan to cure him.

But he needed to survive.

He had to.

For Geralt.

For his pack. His family. His heart.

He had to survive.

____

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