#I used to read monster pulse back when it was still updating and I’ve read up to the most recent page of the golden boar

[millidew]

rereading monster pulse from the start is really fun except there’s this one person in the comments from over a decade ago who just HATESSSSSSS julie. like “She sees nothing further than the end of her own nose. Useless brat.” with Proper Grammar and everything bro she’s 12 and whimsical and has an awesome dragon dog. you wish you were her. AND SOMEONE CALLED HER KERA OUTFIT UGLY. L + RATIO + OBJECTIVELY WRONG + NEVER BE AROUND A CHILD + YOU’D BETTER BEEN ALSO 12 WHEN YOU LEFT THOSE COMMENTS AND NOW FEEL ASHAMED

[chasingpj]

𝐂𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐑𝐞𝐝-𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝

"Ehm, is this like a seven-minutes-in-heaven thing?”

pairing: percy jackson x child of hecate!reader

words: 5,236

warnings: none? pls let me know if i missed anything

timeline: post sea of monsters

if you want to be tagged every time I update this story click here

a/n: hi hi! i hope you guys like this chapter. i fell in a little bit of a rut about my writing so I've been holding off on posting but I think I'm pretty satisfied with how this came out. i'm so fried after editing this so if i happened to miss any typos, sorry, i tried haha.

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven

The heat and dimness from the cabin surround you like a warm hug making it challenging to stay awake. Your eyelids droop against your wishes to study, fatigue messing with your vision as it blurs the letters on the page you were trying to read. As you find yourself mindlessly reading words, you decide to give in, and soon you’re settled in an in-between state of consciousness.

Suddenly, you’re standing at the entryway of the kitchen in your home, the first thing you notice is the scent of your favorite meal as it fills your nostrils, and you smile sleepily as your father looks at you. He’s hovering over the stove, right hand stirring something in a saucepan, and he smiles widely at you.

“Stella, you’re home!” He announces as he pushes his round glasses up the bridge of his nose, “Go, sit! Dinner is almost ready.”

You smile at the nickname your father has called you since you were a child. He said that the first time you cried in his arms, your little body illuminated like a supernova, and since then, he’s called you Stella, the Latin word for star. You make your way past the kitchen island on your left, noticing the history channel playing on the small TV in the corner of the counter like always. A sense of nostalgia hits you in your core, and you sigh, feeling safe. As much as you loved the camp, homesickness was unavoidable.

You settle yourself at the black round table in the back of the kitchen, chin resting on your palm as you look outside of the window beside you. The small garden of herbs and flowers you have in the backyard is as you remember. Every summer, your father cultivates herbs and flowers in dedication to your mother. He uses most of the herbs for spells, and at the end of the summer, he would make a bouquet out of the brightest flowers in the garden and rest them on your mother’s alter.

The reminder of your mother made your stomach feel heavy, and you quickly push the thoughts of her away. You weren’t in the mood to deal with them, especially not in a dream like this. The thumping of Atticus’s footsteps coming down the stairs catches your attention, and soon your brother appears in the doorway with his usual wide smile.

“Hey! I thought you were making my favorite tonight.” His shoulders slump, and he playfully narrows his eyes at you. You shrug,

“What can I say? Must suck not being the favorite,” you joke, and Atticus gasps dramatically. The sound of your father’s laughter fills the room as he tilts his head back.

“I love you guys equally! That’s not nice to say,” he says as he points the spatula at you as he squints. You snort as Atticus joins you at the table,

“Yeah, Y/n, that’s not nice,” he repeats, poking his tongue out at you, and you return the action. You and your brother have a short competition of who can stick out their tongue harder as your father puts the food on the table. At the sight of your favorite meal, you let Atticus win, turning to put a portion on your plate.

Amidst your dinner conversation with your father and your brother, the deep growl rumbling in Ambrose’s chest makes its way into your dream. A soft hum leaves your lips, your neck relaxing against your will, and your head jolts forward as your cheek slips off your palm. You blink a few times, groaning since you’ve lost your dream.

“Ambrose, shush.” Your chin returns onto your hand, and you submit to your fatigue once again. The image of a ravenous bunny, cartoonishly stomping its way through a candy cane forest, filled your mind, projected on your eyelids like a movie in a theater. It’s too ridiculous to give much thought, and you were too busy relishing in the soothing feeling of sleep.

All of a sudden, Ambrose bursts into a series of short high pitched barks, jolting you awake. Your eyelids fly open, and you turn in your chair. Ambrose stands up tall, his fur contouring to his muscles as they flex. His ears are perched up; his focus fixed on the back wall. Whatever he was looking at, he didn’t dare to approach.

"What? What is it?"

The bunk beds obstructed your view, but you are sure you are alone. Everyone was out and about doing their normal camp activities; if anyone had entered the cabin, you would have heard them.

You groan in your hands as they rub your face to shake off the remaining fatigue, growing annoyed at Ambrose’s persistent barking that nips harshly at your eardrums.

“Ambros-”

A bitter breeze fills the room, and your breath gets caught in your throat at the feeling. Your arms wrap around your frame, failing to prevent goosebumps from forming on your arms. It was impossible. Today’s weather report called for a hot, humid day like it’s been all summer. As the hair at the back of your neck stands straight, and you have an idea of what’s happening, but you hoped you were wrong.

Ambrose abruptly ends his barking with a distressing whine. His ears sag low on the sides of his head as he retreats, his large body shrinking in fear. With cautious steps, you approach him in the middle of the cabin. The thumping of your pulse is loud in your ears, and for the first time in a while, a familiar pang strikes you in your gut. You’re being watched.

Despite his fear, Ambrose guards you finding the courage to stand tall and confident after cowering a few seconds ago. You let out a shaky breath, and warily, you finally catch sight of what has his attention.

A tall, dark figure stands still at the end of the room. The light that bleeds through the thin curtains behind it wasn’t enough to expose its face but instead illuminates the swirling black vapor that made up this human form.

From your years of experience, you learned how to deal with these kinds of things. Ghosts gravitated towards you like a moth to a lit flame. Most of the time, the spirits are harmless, looking for some company, and were eager to ask for favors you often couldn’t fulfill. Other times, they were more malevolent entities, existing to feed off your fears, and had the reputation of being stubborn guests.

From the way, the room turned impossibly cold in the middle of a sweltering summer afternoon and the heaviness in your gut, the shadow in front of you was definitely the latter.

"Who are you? How did you get here?" Your voice booms through the silence. "Why are you here-"

The cabin door slams open, the shadow dispersing the moment the sunlight bleeds through the room. You jump, gasping as your whole body turns around. The two figures at the doorway are dark, the sudden beams of light blinding you for a moment before you manage to recognize Connor and Travis.

“Why is it so damn dark in here? And cold? Jeez, Y/n, open the curtains at least,” Travis nags with a smirk on his lips.

“I don’t need light to see.” You groan, turning your face away, the sun shining right at you as Travis begins ripping open the curtains. “And I hate when the sun gets in my eyes,” you complain, stepping aside where sunlight doesn’t reach. Though you saw the shadow disperse, you glance at the back of the room, double-checking that what you saw was gone.

"You know... “

Your focus returns to the two boys standing side by side a few feet away from you. Both of them sporting the mischievous smirk that all the Hermes kids had when they’re about to stir up trouble. Connor only uttered two words, but it was clear they were up to something, and you were about to be involved.

"You've been locked up in here, in the dark, alone, for a while now. It's been like a week and a half since the incident, and we know you’re still a little down,” he trails off, swaying on his feet.

"... yeah?"

"And we think we have the perfect way to cheer you up!" Connor gives you a toothy grin, and as confident as he looked, you don’t quite believe him.

"And that is?"

"I think it's time we execute our bunny prank on the Ares cabin!"

You press your lips together in a thin line; head cocked to the side. "That's supposed to cheer me up?"

"Yeah!"

"How is putting my life in danger going to cheer me up?" Your gaze switches between the two as they exchange looks with each other.

“Um…” Connor says, lost for words.

"It'll be fun. We promise!" Travis insists, waving your comment off. He moves to sit in your chair, leaning back as he props his legs on your desk. "So, have you thought about how we're going to do this?"

You sigh softly, not bothering to protest. If you denied participating, Connor would be quick to remind you what’s at stake.

"I have," you admit. After your last interaction with Clarisse, the prank did come to mind.

The Stoll brother’s faces grew almost as bright as the sun outside. Connor takes a seat on the bed closest to you, leaned in with his elbows on his knees, "Tell us the details then,” he urges.

"Okay, so I found a shape-shifting potion in my spellbook. It's pretty simple. I have all the ingredients except for one. The only thing I need is the hair of a rabbit. Get that for me, and I'll make it." Connor and Travis nod eagerly, and you can already see the gears turning in their heads as they formulate a plan to catch a bunny.

"If you can get it to me in a few hours, we can sneak into their cabin while they're practicing in the arena. Then I can pour a few drops of the potion into their water cooler. The potion is potent; you only need a few drops for it to work."

"Sounds like a solid plan. They'll be thirsty after practicing, and boom, they’re all cute little bunnies,” Travis says, legs unmounting from your desk, and he hops onto his feet.

"So hurry and get me rabbit hair!”

A small, almost manic laugh comes from Connor’s lips, "This is gonna be epic!"

"Should we ask the nymphs for help?" Travis ponders out loud as he makes his way out of the dorm.

"Wait! We should get scissors! Do you have scissors?” Connor asks you, and you giggle. You grab a pair of scissors from your desk drawer, and Connor quickly swipes them from your hands the moment you present them to him.

"Thanks, Y/n!” Swiftly, he turns on his heels, trailing behind Travis.

"Be careful, please! Don't hurt the bunny!"

"We won't! The worse we'll do is give it a bald spot; they’ll be fine!" Travis shouts.

After the slamming of the front door and the ragged footsteps of Connor and Travis’s departure, your smile falters as the silence regresses. The figure you had seen comes to mind, and you frown, Ambrose whining as he sits close to your legs.

"That was weird, wasn't it?" You lean down, affectionately scratching the backs of his ears as Ambrose licks your wrists. The sight of his drooping eyes told you enough to know that this wasn’t the last time you’ll be seeing whatever that was.

"C'mon, let's not worry about that now. We have to make that potion." An uneasy grumble comes from Ambrose's chest as he nuzzles his snout in your hand.

"I know, I know," you whisper before standing up.

☆’.･.･:★:･.･.’☆

"Shh, they’re coming,” Travis announces in a whisper, silencing you and Connor’s conversation. The distanced chattering and footsteps of the Ares campers become louder as Clarisse pushes open the front door. The three of you duck lower in your place as they scatter to their beds, beginning to take off their armor. Travis slowly rises from his crouching position, peaking enough to see the inside. He gives you and Connor a nod, a silent okay to peek yourselves. Cautiously, you come up, watching the group now crowding around the water dispenser, playfully telling each other to hurry up.

Connor lightly pats your shoulder with excitement, and you scrunch your face, anticipation swirling in your stomach as one by one, they begin taking sips from their water bottles. Your jaw drops as Mark forms a snout, his hands flying up to his face.

"W-what?" He sputters, moving closer to his reflection in the mirror. "What is-"

The rest of his words became soft squeals, his whole body shrinking and shifting into a stark white bunny in the blink of an eye.

“Um? Did that just-?”

“How did-”

“You have bunny ears!” Ellis shouts, pointing at Clarisse while she formed a pair of her own. Clarisse didn’t have time to comment as Ellis joins her half-brother. One by one, they began shrinking, and small shrieks fill the room.

"What are you guys doing?" The three of you practically jump out of your skin, heads snapping in the direction of the voice.

Percy’s eyes are wide and curious, furrowing his eyebrows at the chaos breaking out in the Ares cabin. You open your mouth to say something but stop yourself, not wanting to blow your cover.

“It must have been the water!”

“When I see the Stoll Brother’s I’m going to-” Squeal.

Travis’s face was a tint of pink from holding in his laughter. He doesn’t respond, simply waving at Percy to come and see for himself. You and Percy exchange a smile before turning back to the window.

His chance at seeing the pool of white bunnies went down the drain; the four of you met with an angry Clarisse instead. To your dismay, she didn't completely transform. Her normally brown eyes are now crimson and her mouth transformed into a whiskered snout. White bunny ears peek through her brown hair, making it look like she was wearing one of those bunny ear headbands they sell at the pharmacy around Easter time. You’d be laughing as much as the Stoll Brothers if Clarisse’s stare wasn’t fixed on you and only you. You give her a nervous smile as you step away carefully, and the moment Clarisse moves to jump out the window, the four of you bolted.

“She’s gonna kill us!” You exclaim; Travis and Connor burst into laughter, hands over their stomach as they run beside you.

“Split up! She can’t kill all of us!” Travis suggests, already making a beeline into the forest with Connor.

“Yeah, cause she’s gonna go after me!”

“We’ll weave you a nice shroud!”

“WOW, THANKS!”

The cackles of the two made you roll your eyes, and you make a mental note never to help them with a prank ever again. You grunt as Percy grabs onto your wrist, and you stumble for a second until you catch up to his pace.

“You can’t run from me forever!” Clarisse shouts, running close behind. She was right, you couldn’t avoid her forever, but you just needed her to calm down. "When I catch you, I'm tying your necks like shoelaces!"

You cringe at the threat as you and Percy burst through the swinging doors of the Arts and Craft center, weaving your way through the campers.

“Sorry!” You shout over their groans as you’re pulled into one of the hallways. Seeing the closets along the walls of the hallway gave you an idea. You bite your lip, focusing on the door leading to the outside. Reaching your hand out, you flick your fingers forward, causing the door to burst open fast enough for it to lock in place.

The moment you approach the last door in the hallway, you grab the knob. A grunt leaves Percy’s lips as you drag him in the closet with you. He loses his footing from the change of direction, spinning hastily toward you, and the both of you stagger into the closet. You yelp, the weight of Percy’s body sending your back right against the wall, and the knob comes out of grip right as it slams closed.

Percy grunts, his hands push against the wall beside your frame, promptly lifting himself away from you.“Sor-”

“Shh.” Your index finger rests your lips as you look at the door. Your shoulders tense up, afraid that Clarisse had heard the slam. Soon, Clarrise’s pounding footsteps rise like a crescendo and, to your relief, gradually fades as she runs right out of the building. A shaky sigh leaves your lips before glancing at Percy, who’s directly in front of you. You smile sheepishly, foot moving to step back only to be met with the wall.

Percy’s heart beats loud in his chest, and he was hoping that you couldn’t hear it. He tried to step back as well, but Percy’s foot was met with the shelves behind him to his dismay. He scans your face in the dim lighting for a few seconds. Suddenly, he’s reminded of how he stumbled on top of you, making him too embarrassed to look at you any longer. His focus falters to the shelves beside him, forcing himself to find interest in the tubs of paint stacked on them.

“It’s your fault,” you accuse after some silence. Shock flashes across Percy’s face,

“Huh?”

“Because you were so nosey, you blew our cover.” You reach over, and you poke his shoulder. Percy’s peers down at where you poked him as if he was offended.

“At least I ran with you. Travis and Connor left you for dead!”

“Great friends, they are, huh?” You ask, your voice laced with playful sarcasm.

Percy laughs, "I think you've taken the trophy of being the most hated by Clarisse," he jokes.

"I don't think I can one-up you. You literally fought her dad and won," you point out. "I think if we split up, she'd definitely come after me. Imagine the last thing you see when you die is Clarisse looking like… that. "

Percy laughs and you laugh, too, feeling comfortable with making light of the situation now that you were out of harm's way.

"How did that even happen!?”

"I don't know!” You sigh, bummed that Clarisse had managed to be the only person who stayed human. “Maybe she didn’t drink enough water?”

“Wow, the only person you needed to transform into a bunny just didn’t,” Percy says as he crosses his arms over his chest, leaning against the shelves.

“Pretty much.”

“You have amazing luck, Y/n,” he says sarcastically.

“Whatever,” you mumble, eye faltering to the shelves beside you. Percy’s laughter fills the small space, making it hard to prevent the smile from creeping on your lips. The sound of footsteps interrupts you as you open your mouth to say something else and it brings Percy’s laughter to an end. Your shoulders are practically up to your ears as you look into Percy’s wide eyes before he mouths, “we’re dead.” If it is Clarisse, you guys are cornered, and you prepare to shadow travel even if it meant you might pass out, especially if you bring him with you.

You furrow your eyebrows as you hear two familiar voices, and soon the door opens, revealing you both to Beckendorf and Silena. There is a moment of silence, Silena blinking at the both of you, her head tilted slightly to the side as she observes the tension. Beckendorf’s right eyebrow raises, glancing between you and Percy’s face.

"Ehm, is this like a seven-minutes-in-heaven thing?" Your face gets hot, and you exchange a look with Percy, noticing the tips of his ears are bright red.

"No, we were hiding from Clarisse,” he stutters out, gaze snapping to the two, and you nod quickly,

"Because I turned her into a bunny and-"

"She didn't transform all the way-"

"It's okay. Charles and I would sneak around at first, too," Silena interrupts, her lips curled up in a satisfied smile.

"We were just talking!" You and Percy say in unison. The more defensive you got, the more suspicious you both came off. From the way Beckendorf and Silena smiled at each other, you knew they weren’t buying it.

Beckendorf shrugs, and he steps forward, reaching between the two of you to grab the box of beads from the shelf. He hums, “It’s clear we interrupted something. I just needed this. You guys can carry on,” he teases, amused at how embarrassed the both of you are.

“But- we-” you stutter, unable to finish your sentence, Beckendorf shutting the door, and Silena makes a sound between a giggle and a squeal as they walk away.

Percy clears his throat, interrupting the short silence that fell between the two of you, “Um, should we…?” His voice falters, not finishing his sentence, but you already knew what he was going to ask.

“Yeah,” you agree awkwardly, opening the closet. “Let’s go,” you mumble, stepping out with Percy close behind you.

"Where should we go now?" Percy asks, opening the door to the outside for you, and you smile, finding it sweet. You thank him shortly, and you shrug,

"I'm not sure, but I don't think Clarisse has calmed down yet…" you trail off, catching sight of a fuming Clarisse standing beside Chiron a few meters away. “Dammit.”

☆’.･.･:★:･.･.’☆

You shift on your feet, standing in Chiron’s office alongside Travis, Connor, and Percy. Clarisse’s crimson eyes are still narrowed at you as Chiron sighs, backing into his wheelchair before his backside disappears, allowing him to sit fully into it.

"I understand you guys are just having fun. However, I believe the Ares Cabin deserves a little break from the pranks, don't you think?" He asks as he looks at Connor and Travis.

You fiddle with your fingers, your shoulders slumped along with Connor and Travis’s shoulders. Travis nods, and he hums as if he considers it for a moment.

“We could prank the Apollo Cabin instead?" Connor suggests, and Chiron opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. You press your lips together in an attempt to refrain from smiling, discovering that Percy was doing the same. You became more amused at his face turning a little pink as he holds in his laughter, and you quickly look at your hands to recollect yourself.

“I’d prefer you tone down the pranking altogether,” Chiron clarifies. Connor frowns, and he nods slowly,

“Oh. Yeah, we could do that, I guess,” he mumbles, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. Chiron nods, shifting his gaze to you,

“Y/n, what did you used to transform them into rabbits?” You hum softly,

“It’s a shape-shifting potion from my spellbook,” you explain.

“How long will it take for them to transform back?” You look up for a second, trying to remember your notes. While recalling the day you went through Ernest’s potions book to jot the recipe in your Book of Shadows, you realize how many forms of the potion there were depending on the transformation length. Ernest had mentioned in passing something about reading his notes carefully. It wasn’t until now did you realize that the potion you had made was not the short-term one.

“About … 24 hours,” you admit, and Connor snorts beside you.

“What!?” Clarisse snaps, her fists clenching on her side. “You mean, they’re going to be like that until tomorrow afternoon?”

“Yes, that’s what 24 hours means,” you snap back; her presence was enough to annoy you. Clarisse’s glare burns into your face, and she moves to take a step, about to charge at you.

“Clarisse, please! They will be punished accordingly,” Chiron reassures her, making her halt in her place, and she groans, her arms crossing over her chest as she waits for Chiron’s verdict.

"Well, I was going to assign you four to clean the Pegasus stables, but now that it has come to my attention that the potion lasts 24 hours, your punishment is to feed and clean up after them while they’re under the spell."

“Ew, I’d rather clean the stables,” Connor mutters, and you furrow your eyebrows,

“But wouldn’t the pegasus stables be more work?” You ask, hoping to get him to change your punishment. The last thing you wanted to do was be surrounded by a bunch of angry bunnies. Sure they were small, but you did not doubt in your mind that you were going to be attacked by them.

“They are a big group; I think it is fair that Clarisse gets assistance in taking care of them,” He says calmly, his fingers intertwined as they rest on the desk in front of him. “Feed them before you go off to dinner, accommodate their sleeping arrangements and clean up after them before morning check-ins,” he decides. You sigh softly. At this point, as long as Clarisse wasn’t on the hunt to kill you, you were okay with it.

As Chiron dismisses you, you catch the satisfied smile Clarisse was sporting, and you felt your anger swirling in your chest. You grunt as you turn on your heels, Travis and Connor behind you as Percy walks by your side. You sigh, lazily trotting off the steps of the big house,

“This...”

“Sucks,” Percy finishes your sentence, and you nod, the both of you frowning.

☆’.･.･:★:･.･.’☆

“Stop biting me!” You complain, nudging off the crowd of bunnies from your arm. Percy laughs, seated on the floor beside you as he helps you make a nest of blankets big enough for the bunnies.

“They hate you,” he comments, amused. His smirk falls flat, and he hisses as one of them gets a good bite on his finger. “Ow!” He squints at the bunny before picking it up. It was your turn to laugh, and you watch curiously as he walks to one of the dressers and plopping it on top. “I don’t know who you are, but you’re in time-out,” he grumbles.

“Wait, that’s actually really smart!” You look down at the bunnies around you. “They can’t jump from that high!” As you reach for the closest bunny, they run out of your reach, squealing, and soon they were huddled under a bed.

Percy smiles as they disperse, “well, now they’ll leave us alone,” he says as he sits beside you to continue piling the extra blankets you found. “You should have let me play that rock-paper-scissors game with them,” Percy mentions.

The two of you were stuck making a makeshift bed for the Ares campers since Travis and Connor had to round up their cabin for curfew. Well, one of them could have done it, but they insisted that it was a two-person job. You said it was unfair if they skipped out and they offered to settle who will go with an intense rock-paper-scissors game; best of three. You had accepted the challenge and lost miserably.

"I should have known there was no point in trying with their luck."

"Yeah, you walked right into that."

You side-eye him, "anyways, you would have lost.”

“How are you so sure?”

"Because, you just would have," you say shortly, and you smile as he turns to you.

“Well, considering how lucky you've been all day," he says sarcastically, and you squint at him. "I would have had a better chance,” he gloats.

“You’ve been real sassy today,” you mumble, and he laughs. “It’s fine. There’s not that much to do anyway.” Carefully, you roll the sides of the blankets into a nest shape after Percy finishes piling them. You rise on your feet, “It’d sleep there if I were a bunny. What do you think?”

“I would too. It seems comfortable,” Percy smiles as he stands up.

"Are you losers done?" Clarisse walks into the cabin with bowls of water for her siblings, and you roll your eyes as she puts them on the ground.

"Yeah, is it to their liking?" You ask with fake politeness, straining a smile. Clarisse observes the bundle of blankets as her siblings get in to try it out. She furrows her eyebrows, listening attentively to the various squeals. She had inherited most of the bunny traits, and though she didn’t transform completely, she could understand what they were saying.

“Eh, it’s good enough,” she concludes after hearing all the complaints of her siblings. “I’m sick of seeing your faces; get out.” She didn’t have to tell you twice, and you don’t waste any time as you turn on your heels. You were sick of seeing her face too.

Walking down the steps of the Ares Cabin, Percy follows beside you. A slight hum comes from his lips, and you look over,

“I was wondering when you’d come back to sword fighting,” he mentions, and you nod, recalling that you had agreed to attend classes after sparing with him a couple of weeks ago. “Your brother has been coming more often; he’s gotten a lot better.”

“That’s why my body has been aching so much,” you mutter more to yourself. For the past week, you thought you were staining your body in your sleep.

“Huh?”

“Long story,” you wave your hand, and you think about his question.

If you were completely honest, you weren’t as depressed about what had happened anymore. After you talked with Percy, you had finally come to terms with many of the thoughts that were tormenting you. However, you still stayed locked up in the Hermes Cabin because in the past week or so, you’ve gotten so much studying done. You wanted to stay in and read, and you were planning on milking your excused absences for as long as you could. But now, you considered that maybe you should return to your normal activities. Connor and Travis were becoming more worried, so were Atticus and Lou Ellen.

“I could join tomorrow,” you say hesitantly, your heart fluttering as Percy’s face brightens up. “Are you that excited to beat me up?” You joke, and Percy laughs, shaking his head.

“No! It’s just… it’s weird not seeing you around.” He admits shyly as he looks away. The cool summer breeze blows on your warm cheeks, and you swallow,

“I’ll go tomorrow,” you confirm, sounding more sure of yourself this time. Once you approach the steps of the Hermes cabin, you turn to him. “Good night, Perce.”

The sides of Percy’s eyes crinkle as he nods, “Good night,” he says as he slowly backs away. “And try to wake up on time, yeah? I’m not feeding the Ares cabin alone tomorrow,” he teases. You did have a habit of being the last person to arrive at breakfast. He must have noticed.

“Yeah, yeah. Worry about yourself, waterboy.” You smile, hearing him scoff. Opening the door to the Hermes cabin, you look back at him one more time. You take in the wide grin on his face, and he nods,

“Got it. I’ll remember that when you’re being chased by Clarisse again.” Your mouth drops open, eyes glinting at his banter.

“You better go before the harpies eat you!” You shoo him away as he laughs, then with a short salute of his two fingers, he walks off to his cabin.

masterlist taglist: @xxyrr @nct127bee @mochabreezeee @minamisulemisa @yanfeisluvr @-thatgirloverthere- @sanovr @passionswift @nanskidoodle @Slytherclaw-kitten @zhethugisa

[silverlightqueen]

Filter

‘I can be whatever you want me to be, babe.’

fratboy/jock!Jimin x cheerleader!reader (bc apparently I don’t know how to not write university aus) - e2l, smut, angst, humour, a teensy bit of fluff if you squint

Part of ficswithluv’s Bulletproof Bingo!

Rating: 18 (graphic sex and mature themes)

Word Count: 14.9k+

Warnings - there’s a lot (because this is absolute filth) so please read carefully!  discussion of drugs and consumption of drugs, alcohol consumption, mention of rape, brief mention of murder and violence, brief mention of STDs, extremely bad language, extreme sexual tension (like on another level guys), brief mention of stripping, Jimin is a total dick, a lot of arguing and insulting, y/n has way too much pride for her own good, Jimin is too arrogant for his own good, mention of Namjoon being naked (you’ll understand when you read it), explicit sex, unprotected sex (use protection guys!), hate sex, (really) rough sex, very slight dubcon (she doesn’t explicitly say yes but she does give him consent), dom!Jimin and sub!y/n, y/n is the brattiest bratty stubbornest brattiest brat, very explicit dirty talk, asphyxiation, mention of spitting during sex, marking, y/n does a little striptease, nipple play, finger sucking, cum licking/swallowing, multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, edging, begging, spanking, hair pulling, punishment, pussy slapping, degradation, mild sadism and masochism,  very brief exhibitionism, fingering, oral sex (m receiving) and mention of oral sex (f receiving), face fucking, gagging,  thigh-riding, overstimulation, Jimin has a big fat huge monster cock, teasing, manhandling, slapping during sex, penetrative sex, squirting, cunnilingus, (I’m sure that’s it, but please let me know if you notice that I missed something!)

a/n: hey guys! please enjoy this absolute filth lmao (blame black haired Jimin for being the sexiest person in the world). the biggest thank you to the love of my life @silverlightprincess​ for proof-reading this two nights in a row and hyping it up so much, you’re the best and I love you.  lmk what you think and hmu if you’re interested in a part two x

silverlightqueen masterlist

‘Please come with me. I can’t go by myself,’ I whine at Jennie who sits on her bed, watching me in amusement like she’s watching a film or TV show. 

‘Nope, and I already told you why; I don’t want to see him, not after what happened,’ she says, and I roll my eyes as I order an Uber. ‘So you’re really gonna make me go by myself? What if I get drugged, or beaten up, or raped, or murdered, or-’ ‘y/n!’ she exclaims reproachfully, and I shrug, ‘it could happen.’ ‘Well, it won’t. Loads of our friends are there. Wendy and Irene and Seulgi, Yeri and Joy, loads of people,’ she lists off. ‘Yeah, and they’ll be there, too,’ I sigh. ‘Well, I mean, it is at their house,’ she says, holding back a laugh, and I stick my tongue out at her.

‘You know what I mean. I hate them – jocks are so unbearable. It’d be better if you were there,’ I say, pouting. ‘You’re a liar, you don’t hate them. Just him,’ she points out. ‘Well, what if he tries something? He’s so strong, he could literally lift a car if he wanted to-’ ‘Bit of an exaggeration, don’t you think?’ she says, and I roll my eyes again. ‘You know what I mean. The point still stands that he’s strong – you’re the one that saw him at the gym lifting more than your body weight. And remember when he knocked one of the players on their opposing team to the floor in that match last year, and he was literally twice his size. If that guy couldn’t take him on, how can I?’ ‘And you think I can? I’m smaller than you, you idiot.’ ‘But you’re scary.’ ‘You’re scarier than me,’ she says mildly, and I sigh. ‘Please, Jen. It’s not even that big of a deal, what happened. If anything, it’s more embarrassing for him than for you,’ I say, trying so hard to persuade her. ‘It is a big deal. It only happened yesterday – I at least need to give it a couple days before I can face him again.’ ‘Fine, I’ll go by myself. If I’m not home in the morning, it’s on your head,’ I say dramatically, pulling on my heels.

‘Don’t be like that,’ she reprimands before launching into a speech, ‘you look absolutely gorgeous and the boys will be all over you, so don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, and if you do, please use a condom. I don’t need you bringing an STD back with you. If there’s an emergency, or you need me to pick you up, call me. Make sure you keep me updated on what’s going on. Don’t drink anything anyone gives you – pour your own drinks. Make sure you’re always with one of the girls.’ ‘Okay, okay! I’ll see you later, mum!’ I exclaim, and she laughs, pulling me into a hug. ‘Be careful, y/n,’ she says gently, and I nod. ‘When am I not, Jen?’ I say, and she raises an eyebrow. I leave our dorm and head down the corridor, opting to take the lift instead of the stairs – these heels aren’t that high, but I don’t want to take any risks.

My Uber’s already there by the time I get outside, so I jump straight in. The journey there is short (not short enough to walk in heels, though) and within five minutes, we’re pulling up in front of the house. I climb out, the driver instantly zooming away, and I look up at the house in front of me. It’s much bigger than and further away from the rest of the houses on the street, and it has its own little pier out onto the university lake, perfect for drunken skinny-dippers at the end of the night. I head up to the porch, the Greek letters for Alpha Sigma Phi hanging above my head, and push through the slightly open door. The party is already in full swing, loud bass-heavy RnB pulsing through the house, people already drunk and dancing, the smell of drugs thick in the air. I push through the throng of my classmates into the kitchen where I know my friends will be. The lowered volume in the kitchen is brief; only the moment before my friends notice me is quiet. ‘y/n!’ they all shout, and I jump in surprise. ‘y/n, you made it!’ Wendy shrieks, throwing her arms around me. ‘Of course, I wouldn’t have missed it,’ I say, hugging her back. ‘y/n, you look good!’ Yeri exclaims, holding me out for her to admire. ‘Thank you, Yeri, but look at you! Absolutely gorg!’ I don’t get to hear her reply before the rest of my friends greet me, all of them dressed up and drinking. ‘Let me get you a drink. What do you want?’ Irene asks me, and I scrunch up my face in thought. ‘I’ll just have Diet Coke for now – I don’t want any alcohol,’ I say, and I feel a hand appear on my waist. ‘Lightweight,’ I hear his teasing voice, and I can’t stop the big sigh I let out, accompanied by my signature eye roll.

‘Where are your pom-poms today?’ he asks, and I turn to look at him, the smell of vodka strong on him. ‘I was wondering how long I’d have without you bothering me,’ I say, fixing him with a dirty look. I’ve always thought of him as tiny, but he really isn’t – I have to tilt my head back slightly to look at his annoying face because of how close to me he is (he most definitely has lifts in his shoes). And it’s not just his face, that’s annoying, let me tell you that. It’s everything about him. And shall I tell you why? Because it’s all perfect. Everything about him, physically, is infuriatingly perfect. His legs are long and toned, his waist cinched and his frame slim, with vascular hands adorned in silver rings, matching with the silver earrings hanging from his ears and the silver Chanel necklace around his neck (how he can afford Chanel jewellery whilst at university, I don’t know). His lips are plump and glossy, like a Bratz doll, and his eyes are a deep chocolaty brown, framed with dark lashes. His jaw is sharp, his cheeks chubby, and his black hair is soft and fluffy, swept back to reveal the tan skin of his forehead and dark, bold eyebrows. Long story short, he’s beautiful, on the outside. The inside is a whole other story.

‘Bothering you? More like gracing you with my presence. Remember, this is my party, and there are plenty of other, more… willing girls I could be spending my time with, but I chose you. You should be honoured,’ he says with a grin, and I scowl at him. ‘Honoured?’ I echo as Irene hands me a red solo cup with the Coke in it, ‘it’s not your party. It’s Alpha Sigma Phi’s party.’ ‘And what does everyone think of when they think of ASP? This handsome face and the perfect dick that comes with it,’ he says, preening, and I roll my eyes again. ‘Can you not be so annoying and full of yourself all the time?’ ‘I can be whatever you want me to be, babe,’ he says lowly, thumb swiping across his plump lips, and I blink, heart jumping which pisses me off – my own body betrays me when I’m with him. ‘Well, whatever. I don’t think of you when I think of ASP. I think of a bunch of douches,’ I shrug, changing the subject back, and he grins even wider, obviously amused that he managed to make me flustered. ‘Now, now. Is that any way to speak about your friends? I’m sure the other boys would be offended to hear you speak about them like that,’ he says, plucking the cup from my hand and taking a sip. ‘Well, let me correct myself. You’re the douche,’ I say tiredly, and he grins. ‘You won’t be saying that for long. You’ll be eating your words when you feel how good my cock is,’ he forebodes, handing me back my cup, completely empty. ‘I don’t think I’ll be able to feel anything,’ I mutter, throwing away the cup, and he chuckles. ‘Oh, y/n, you do amuse me,’ he grins. ‘Oh, Park, the feeling is most definitely not mutual,’ I say in a bright tone, a fake smile plastered on my face. ‘Good talk, y/n, I’ll see you later,’ he says distractedly as he moves away from me, watching a sophomore that’s just walked in with her friends, wearing a skimpy dress. She’s pretty and looks nice, but I can’t help but dislike her instantly, surprised at myself for being so bitchy.

‘Who are you shooting lasers at?’ Joy asks. ‘Park Jimin,’ I spit out, turning my dirty looks to him instead. Or rather, his back, as he’s now facing away from me, speaking to the sophomore. ‘Cradle robber,’ Joy observes, and I laugh. ‘I wouldn’t quite say cradle robber – we’re only a year older than her,’ I point out, and Joy waves my words away. ‘Still. Anyway, are you drinking?’ she asks. ‘Well, I did have a drink, but he took it and downed it,’ I say, motioning to Jimin who’s now got a hand on the girl’s arm. She looks up at him with a sweet smile, her eyes wide and big, and I almost want to go over and warn her away, knowing he’s just looking for someone to fill his bed for the night. ‘Well, Seulgi brought Malibu, and I know you like it, so here,’ she says, pushing an unopened bottle into my hand and disappearing back into the throng of people. ‘Thanks,’ I say to the spot where she was just stood, plucking a clean cup from the packet, pouring out some of the rum and mixing it with coke (an unopened bottle – I’m no rookie). I also find some straws and pick out a pink one, dropping it into the cup. Just as I begin to take a sip, a pair of big hands clap down onto my shoulders, making me jump and I choke on my drink.

‘Oh, shit, sorry. You okay, y/n?’ I hear Namjoon’s voice as I cough again and again. ‘Do I look okay?’ I ask once I’ve stopped choking, my eyes beginning to water and my face warm. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to,’ he says reproachfully, holding back laughter. ‘Idiot,’ I mutter, taking a seat on one of the stools around the kitchen island (these trashy dirty frat boys don’t deserve such a nice house). ‘Sorry. Anyways, how are you?’ ‘I was fine before you tried to kill me. What about you?’ ‘Um, good, yeah. I saw you speaking to Jimin,’ he says, triggering an eye roll. ‘He’s such a pain in the ass. I’m gonna file a restraining order.’ ‘Go for it, I’ll file one too. So, you, um… did you come by yourself?’ he asks, rubbing at the back of his neck, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘Don’t be a pussy – say it with your chest,’ I say in a bored tone, and he sighs. ‘Did Jennie come with you?’ he asks quietly. ‘No, she wasn’t feeling too well, so she stayed back at our apartment,’ I grin, and he puts a hand to his forehead. ‘She’s avoiding me, isn’t she? Urgh, I’m such an idiot.’ ‘I can’t argue with you there,’ I reply, and he scowls at me. ‘Sorry. But, it’s true, you are an idiot. I mean, what on earth were you thinking?’ I say, failing to hold back my laughter. ‘I didn’t know that she would be out there. If I’d known…’ he trails off. ‘You wouldn’t have run across the pitch butt naked?’ I ask, and he slaps a hand over my mouth, looking around to see if anyone heard. ‘Keep your voice down! I don’t want people knowing. I lost a bet, and I did it at night-time so no one would see. How was I supposed to know she’d be out there?’ he says defensively, and I shake my head at him in disgust. ‘You’re a mess. And, anyway, yes, of course she’s avoiding you. How can she look you in the face again properly having seen you completely naked?’ I say, struggling to hold back laughter as I think back to Jennie’s face when she walked into our apartment after going somewhere quiet to speak on the phone to her sister, Rose – there was a party going on in the apartment next door, so she went on a walk, conveniently running into (a naked) Namjoon. ‘Oh, go suck Jimin’s dick,’ he says half-heartedly. ‘Go flash Jennie again,’ I retort, and he flips me off before disappearing.

I stay in the kitchen the majority of the night, catching up with all my friends. It’s been a while since I had a chance to socialise; settling back into the Uni schedule after a long summer is tough, especially when you have an entire cheer team to lead. And cheering isn’t easy! People think we just run around in skimpy outfits, chanting and waving pom-poms, but there is so much more to it than that – I’d go as far to say that cheer is one of the hardest sports you can do. I spend so much of my time choreographing and working out to keep fit and planning routines and deciding positions for the team. It requires a lot of dedication and time to get everything done before the season starts. But obviously, a lot of my peers don’t have to dedicate their time to things like that and are used to partying, opting to get black out drunk at these frat parties instead of socialising with their friends. Only three hours after my arrival, there are people passed out all over the place, bedrooms occupied, and drunken students dirty dancing in the living room. Sat in the same stool as three hours ago, I watch Yeri flirt with a senior, feeling proud of my girl. She catches me watching and I put my thumbs up to her, giving her a big encouraging smile, and she quickly looks away for fear of laughing out loud.

‘Ah, y/n. Alone?’ I hear Jimin’s voice from behind me before he takes the seat beside me. ‘Yes, and I was enjoying it,’ I say pointedly, despite knowing he won’t go. ‘How have you been? Still dancing away?’ he asks with a grin, and I roll my eyes. ‘Cheer isn’t the same as dance.’ ‘I’ve seen you on the side-lines while we’re playing – sure looks like dance to me.’ ‘And anyway, why do you have to say it like that? I’m not a stripper,’ I say exasperatedly, completely ignoring his stupid interjection. ‘What’s wrong with being a stripper?’ ‘Nothing, I consider it at least nine times a day.’ ‘Let me know if you decide to pursue that as your career – I’d be more than happy to support you. Maybe even join you if football doesn’t work out for me.’ ‘Oh, I don’t doubt you’d support me, you pervert.’ ‘Now, you know that’s not true. I only flirt with girls that want me back. If they don’t, I leave them alone.’ ‘So why don’t you leave me alone?’ ‘Because it’s clear to me that you enjoy my flirting. You might act like you don’t, but not once have you ever explicitly told me to stop, or to go away,’ he says, and I struggle for a comeback, knowing it’s true. He might be a total dick and I might hate him, but the flirting and the attention, it makes me feel good. It’s a nice feeling, knowing that a boy who could have anyone… wants me. ‘See?’ he points out with a smirk, and I roll my eyes as he takes a sip of the vodka in his hand. ‘You need to deflate your ego a little.’ ‘You need to pull that stick out your arse.’ ‘It’s stuck up there, with your head.’ ‘Touché,’ he laughs, and I shake my head.

‘So, as I was asking before we got side-tracked, how have you been? How are you finding junior year?’ he asks, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘Why do you care, Park?’ I ask, and he grins. ‘Why wouldn’t I care?’ ‘Because we don’t like each other.’ ‘I like you,’ he smirks, head resting on his hand, arm leaning on the countertop. ‘No, you don’t, and I sure as hell don’t like you.’ ‘Why do you keep lying to me, and to yourself, y/n?’ ‘I’m not lying. Just because you’re attracted to someone, it doesn’t mean you like them,’ I say, regretting the words as soon as I see the mischievous light in his eyes. ‘You’re attracted to me?’ ‘That’s not what I said.’ ‘It pretty much is, y/n. But it’s okay, I knew that already. It’s just nice to hear it out loud. Well, I hope that’s what you were referring to, and not to me being attracted to you, because that certainly isn’t true,’ he says, my body going cold at hearing his words as my jaw drops. I turn to look at him, a shit-eating grin on his face, and I want to slap it off.

‘You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,’ I say, and he just gives me an infuriating grin. Now, let me make something clear. Park Jimin isn’t that bad. Annoying, flirty, egotistic? Yes, exactly, and everyone loves him for being the star player on the team, which makes it worse. But I can deal with him. He’s not really… the bane of my existence, or anything like that. But he is the most irritating person I’ve ever met. He’s like a chipped nail on a fresh set, or a bird chirping outside your window at 4am when you have an exam. But this? This is on another level. How, how on earth, has he managed to turn the tables onto me like this? ‘What d’you mean?’ ‘What do I me- I mean that you flirt with me every opportunity you get!’ I say, voice getting a little louder with annoyance, and he raises an eyebrow, still looking annoyingly laidback, his smirk and my anger growing at the same rate. ‘So what?’ ‘So… if you’re flirting with me that often, you’re attracted to me. You’ve made it clear you’re attracted to me,’ I say slowly, starting to wonder if I’m missing something, and his grin grows impossibly wider. ‘Just a bit of fun, isn’t it? Doesn’t mean anything,’ he says with a little shrug, and I try to hide the way his words hurt.

‘Fine. Go have a bit of fun with someone else, then,’ I say savagely, facing away from him and crossing my arms over my chest, and yet, he seems nothing but amused. ‘Don’t be like that, babe,’ he says easily, reaching for me, and I slap his hands away, ignoring the pet name. ‘No, leave me alone,’ I say sulkily, and he raises an eyebrow at me as he rests a hand on my thigh, lips twitching when I don’t brush it off. ‘Come on, baby, I was just kidding,’ he smiles serenely, and I turn a scowl to him. ‘Well, I didn’t find it funny, so go find some other girls who will,’ I spit at him, and he’s holding back a laugh, which infuriates me even more. ‘But those girls are boring. You aren’t. So stop being bratty,’ he says, and my mouth falls open slightly, my eyes fixed on his stupidly handsome face. ‘Bratty? I’m being bratty?’ I demand, and he nods, lips slightly quirked up at the ends with amusement. ‘Yes, angel, you are.’ ‘Well… you’re being a dick.’ ‘Real mature,’ he says with a roll of his eyes, and I scowl. ‘Says you, you fucking manchild.’ ‘Wow, you really are a brat. I’ve apologised, like, twice. Get over it and stop being so stubborn.’ ‘I’m not being stubborn! ‘You are.’ ‘Am not.’ ‘Are too.’

‘Wow, you two are children,’ Jungkook’s voice comes from beside us, and we both turn to look at him. ‘How long have you been there?’ Jimin asks moodily, and Jungkook grins, dropping me a wink. ‘Long enough to see that you two need to stop fucking around and… fuck,’ Jungkook says, and I scrunch up my nose in disgust, leaning away from Jimin. ‘Don’t ever say that again. I hate him,’ I spit out, putting emphasis on the word so he understands that I truly mean it, and he rolls his eyes again, taking a sip of his drink. ‘You don’t have to love each other. Hell, you don’t even have to like each other,’ Jin’s voice comes from behind me, and I turn to him with a hard stare. ‘Seriously? Who fucks someone they don’t like?’ I say, both Jungkook and Jin laughing. ‘Lots of people, actually. Honestly, y/n, I promise you, it’s better when you don’t like each other. No strings attached, no obligations afterwards, and you don’t have to think about whether it feels good for them,’ Jungkook explains, and now my entire face is scrunched up in disgust. ‘That’s the worst thing I’ve ever heard anyone say. You men are disgusting,’ I say, giving Jimin a pointed look, and he gasps. ‘Don’t look at me! I’ve never done that!’ Jimin exclaims defensively, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘Yeah, right.’ ‘He’s telling the truth,’ Jin says, and I turn my raised eyebrows to him. ‘Sure.’ ‘No, seriously, he never has. Everyone Jimin fucks adores him, so he’s never known the joy that is hate sex,’ Jungkook says, he and Jin laughing as I give them a disgusted look, Jimin suspiciously silent. ‘Jin, Jungkook, Jimin, come dance with us,’ a high-pitched female voice calls from the living room, all four of us looking to see a group of skimpily dressed freshmen beckoning the boys over. Jin and Jungkook waste no time, practically leaving us in their dust as they rush to join the girls.

I look to Jimin, who hasn’t moved a muscle, still with a stormy expression on his face. ‘Well? Go dance with them,’ I prompt, and his features smooth out before a small smirk curls his lips up. ‘I’d rather stay here, babe, with you,’ he says, and I grit my teeth, trying not to swing for him. ‘You didn’t hesitate to leave me earlier for that sophomore,’ I say despite myself, knowing I sound petty, and he chuckles. ‘Jealous, baby?’ he asks, and I let out a sigh, having had enough. ‘If you’re not going to go, I’ll go,’ I sigh tiredly, getting up from my stool, and heading towards the living room. He grabs my hand as I pass him, turning me around to face him, and I want to pull my hand out of his grasp, but the second I turn to see those big brown eyes on me, I freeze. And I hate it. How can he be such a dick to me all the time, so flirty but then so cold, and I forgive him every time because he’s handsome? How? ‘What do you want me to say, y/n? That you’re prettier, way prettier than the sophomore girl, and those drunk freshmen dancing in the living room? That you���re prettier than every girl in this damn house? Is that what you want?’ he asks, actually sounding sincere for once, and my heart jumps at the compliment. I hate it. I hate him.

‘No. I want you to leave me alone,’ I spit, wrenching my arm from his grasp, and he lets out an amused chuckle. ‘Good, because I hate lying,’ he says with an easy grin, and that little voice in my mind just says, ‘oh’ as I stop still. ‘You know what? Fuck you,’ I whisper, feeling tears in my eyes as I turn away from him, ready to go home. ‘You should be more polite, angel,’ he calls after me, and I can’t help myself, turning to look at him. ‘What?’ ‘I said,’ he replies, getting up from his stool before downing his vodka (I hope it’s mixed with something because he doesn’t wince at all), making me wait until he says, ‘you should be more polite. A request like that? You could at least say please.’ My blood boils, anger actually consuming me as all I can see is red, and that stupid fucking smirk on his stupid fucking face. ‘You’re such a fucking dick, Park. I don’t know who the fuck you think you are,’ I rage, stepping closer to him, and he just carries on grinning at me. ‘Go on, babe,’ he says when I’m silent for a moment, jutting his chin out to prompt me, and I want to actually slam his head into the wall. ‘Just fuck off. I can’t deal with you right now, go find someone who adores you so you can stick your tiny dick down her throat,’ I spit at him, his face twisting with anger at me using his friends’ words against him (or at calling his dick tiny – I’m not sure which), and I stomp towards the back door.

I push open the door, storming through and narrowly avoiding colliding with a group of boys passing around a joint. ‘Oh, hey, y/n!’ Taehyung exclaims when he sees me, a big grin on his face. ‘Hi, Tae,’ I say quickly before rushing up towards the road, pulling my phone out of my pocket to order an Uber. ‘You’re leaving?’ I hear Jimin call after me, and I let out a scream of rage, whirling around to face him. ‘How many times do I have to tell you to leave me the fuck alone?’ I shriek, the few people outside watching us with interest, Jimin marching up towards me. ‘No, you don’t get to say your piece and leave,’ he spits out, jaw clenched in anger, and I look skywards, throwing my hands up in despair. ‘Say what you want to say, then. Go on,’ I prompt, voice shaking with anger.

‘You’re such an uptight little bitch, y/n. You fucking mope around in the kitchen at parties, don’t touch the drugs and barely drink, thinking you’re so high and mighty and above the rest of us. You can’t even take a fucking joke and you turn it into something serious by fucking insulting me!’ he shouts, and I’m a little shocked and a lot hurt, the people around letting out little noises of embarrassment on my behalf. ‘Are you kidding me? Just because I don’t turn into a messy fucking disgrace at parties, doesn’t mean I’m uptight!’ I shout back, taking a step towards him, and he lets out a humourless laugh. ‘See? There you go again! It’s called having fun, y/n, you should fucking try it some time!’ ‘I have fun, you dick!’ ‘Yeah, okay, sure you do. You were sat by yourself at a party. Do you know how sad that is? And me, being the nice guy I am, come to sit with you to talk, and you’re just fucking rude to me!’ ‘Nice guy? You have to be joking! You’re not a nice guy, and you never have been! You’re entitled and egotistic and can’t keep your dick in your pants! You can’t take a hint, and even when I tell you explicitly to leave me alone, you don’t!’ I shout, both of us moving closer and closer to one another. ‘I’m trying to be nice, for fuck’s sake! I don’t understand why you tell me to leave you alone!’ ‘I don’t understand why it is so hard for you to accept the fact that I. Don’t. Like. You,’ I say in his face, emphasising every word, hoping he finally gets the message.

‘You fucking liar,’ he says lowly, taking another step closer to me, centimetres apart from me. ‘Excuse me?’ ‘I said that you’re a liar. You do like me,’ he says, eyes dark as he looks at me, and I scoff, trying to ignore how tense I am now that he’s this close to me. ‘I promise you, I really fucking don’t,’ I laugh, our voices much quieter now, everyone around us still watching the exchange, straining to hear our words. They must be confused to see a girl not falling at the feet of great Park Jimin for once. ‘Stop lying, for once, y/n! Discard your pride, for fuck’s sake! You think I’m stupid?’ he asks, getting even closer to me, so close that his chest brushes against mine, my skin igniting at the touch, and I curse my body for betraying me. ‘You think I don’t see you literally fighting the smile off your face when I compliment you? You think I don’t feel the way you shudder when I touch you? You think I don’t notice how you lean towards me when we’re sat together? You think I don’t see the way your breath catches in your throat when I talk about the things I’d do to you? And it’s sexy, it’s really fucking sexy, and it’s so fucking hot when you play hard to get,’ he whispers, his tone harsh but his words making my entire body feel like it’s on fire because, yes, I fucking hate him, but God, he’s hot as hell. And then he makes me want to strangle him by saying, ‘but you ruin it by being so fucking uptight and taking a stupid little joke to heart.’

I let out a disappointed sigh, opening up the Uber app on my phone. ‘y/n. What the fuck are you doing?’ he asks, an edge to his tone, and I ignore him completely. ‘Are you ordering a fucking Uber?’ he demands, sounding incredulous, and I continue to ignore him, knowing it’ll piss him off even more. ‘I’m trying to fucking speak to you and you’re ordering an Uber? Can you stop being so fucking immature and, like… talk to me? Put down your fucking phone, y/n,’ he says slowly, and I can practically sense how he’s trying so hard to keep a hold of his temper – I can see him clenching and unclenching his fists, the vessels in his hands more visible than ever. And then he snatches my phone out of my hands. ‘Wha-’ I start to say, looking up at him, but I’m startled into silence when my eyes meet his. I’m good at riling him up from time to time, but I have never seen him this angry, not even when he’s playing football. His eyes are dark, cheeks flushed with rage, jaw and fists clenched so tight that I’m worried he might shatter a bone, and I actually feel scared. ‘Give me my phone back, Park,’ I say tiredly, and he lets out a mirthless laugh before turning away from me and heading back towards the house, tucking my phone into the back pocket of his tight black jeans.

‘For fuck’s sake,’ I say before following him – I’ve got too much pride to run after him, especially in heels because my clumsy ass will fall over. ‘Park, I swear to God,’ I call after him, the onlookers laughing. I’m glad they find it funny – I’m just tired, fed up and I want nothing more than to go to bed. He disappears into the house, and I speed up a little, knowing if I lose him, it could take ages to find him in that huge ass house, packed full of people. ‘y/n, babe, wait,’ I hear Yoongi say as I pass their group again, feeling him grab onto my hand. ‘Yoongi, not now. He’s got my phone.’ ‘I know. He told us to distract you,’ Yoongi admits, and I let out a noise of frustration as I pull my hand from his grasp, rushing into the house before another of them can grab me, narrowly escaping Tae’s reach. I see him disappearing into the living room, and rush through the kitchen, pushing through the few people stood around the counters, but I freeze when I reach the living room door. A load of ASP boys are lining up coke on the coffee table with their credit cards, Eric Nam who lives in our accommodation block is passed out at my feet, and a group of girls from the sorority up the road are grinding on each other in the middle of the room, Jungkook in the thick of the throng with his hands on Nayeon’s waist. My eyes scan the room, and I spot jet black hair disappearing into the front hall. I seriously consider just leaving my phone and getting Namjoon to call me an Uber, but my passcode is basic as hell (123456) and I don’t need Jimin snooping around my socials. Or worse – my camera roll.

I step over Eric, narrowly avoiding Momo’s hands stretched out to grab me and dance with me, and sidestep the table covered in coke, bursting into the front hallway where Seulgi stands with Kai, one of the spotters on our cheer team. ‘Hey, babe!’ Seulgi exclaims when she sees me, and I grin at her, momentarily distracted from Jimin. ‘Hey, Seulgi. Hi, Kai. Have you guys seen Jimin?’ I ask, both of them looking at me in confusion. ‘Park Jimin?’ Kai asks, and I nod, a little impatient. ‘He just went upstairs. Why?’ Seulgi asks as I begin to run up the stairs. ‘He stole my phone,’ I shout over my shoulder, ignoring Kai’s shout of, ‘Use protection!’ At the top of the stairs, more of my friends are sat in a circle on the landing, handing a bottle of vodka around. ‘Hey, y/n,’ Mina says when she spots me, the others all greeting me too. ‘Hi, guys. You seen Park Jimin?’ I ask, all of them exchanging a glance. ‘You two about to resolve the sexual tension?’ Dahyun asks with a wiggle of her eyebrows, and I roll my eyes. ‘No, he’s got my phone.’ ‘Ooh, worried he’ll find your nudes?’ Jackson asks with a smirk, and I fix him with a hard stare. ‘He’ll never guess the passcode for ‘My Eyes Only’ so I’m not worried,’ I say evenly, and I have to hold back a laugh when the boys all exchange a glance. ‘Anyway, did you see where he went?’ I ask, getting even more impatient now. ‘He went upstairs – his room’s up there. Second door on the left,’ Jeongyeon says, everyone’s eyes turning to her now. ‘How do you know?’ Jinyoung demands, and I take the moment of them being distracted to sprint up the stairs. With every step, I feel the anger inside me grow, all of the times he’s pissed me off over the past couple years building up within me. I hate him, really fucking hate him, and this is just the last fucking straw.

When I reach his room, I don’t even bother knocking, bursting in. And when my brain registers that he’s lying on his bed, with the pretty sophomore from earlier on top of him, all I can see is red, my hands shaking with fury. She looks up at me in surprise, Jimin completely ignoring my presence and continuing to press kisses to her jaw. ‘I swear to fucking God, Park, I’m going to murder you,’ I say slowly, voice wavering with anger, and the girl has enough sense to get off him. ‘I’m really sorry, I didn’t know he was in a relationship,’ she says, sounding truly apologetic, and I feel bad for her. ‘He’s not. You’re welcome to get back to your thing in a minute – I just want my phone,’ I demand, eyes flitting to the bed where he’s leaning back on his elbows, watching our exchange with amusement. None of us say anything for a few moments, the poor girl caught in between mine and Jimin’s feud.

‘I’m being serious, Park. Give me my fucking phone before I cut your dick off,’ I threaten, knowing I’d make good of it too, but he doesn’t move a muscle, just watching me with eyes sparkling with mirth. ‘You know what? I’m gonna leave you guys to resolve whatever the hell this is,’ the girl says, heading to the door. ‘I’m so sorry,’ I say, truly feeling bad, and she turns back to look at me, stood in the doorway. ‘Don’t be. I think you’ve helped me dodge a bullet. If anything, I’m sorry for you, being involved with him,’ she says quietly, making me laugh, and she laughs too. She really is a nice girl. ‘Thank you. I’ll see you around. I’m y/n, by the way,’ I say, and she nods. ‘I know. I’ve been thinking of trying out for cheer, and everyone I’ve spoken to said to go to you,’ she says, and I let out a little noise of excitement. ‘Oh, my God, you should! You look like you’d be a good flier, and we’re running short of fliers at the moment!’ I exclaim, completely distracted, and she grins. ‘I used to fly at high school, so I’d definitely like to give it a go.’ ‘That’s great. Try-outs are next Saturday, at 12, and I’ll keep an eye out for you. What’s your name?’ ‘Park Jiwon. Do I have to sign up or anything?’ ‘Well, you missed sign-ups, but I’ll put your name down. Just show up,’ I say with a grin, and she smiles back. ‘Thank you, y/n. I’ll see you on Saturday.’ ‘See you, Jiwon,’ I smile, the girl heading towards the stairs with a wave.

When I turn back to look at Jimin, he’s right there in front of me. He pushes the door shut and then slams me up against it, knocking the air out of me before pulling my shoulder bag off my arm and throwing it across the room, the chain strap making a loud clanking noise when it hits the wall. He’s so close that all I can smell is him – the vodka he’s been drinking, his expensive aftershave and… something that’s just him. ‘You’re so fucking hot when you’re jealous, and angry with me. Love getting you all worked up, baby,’ he spits out, voice so low it sounds like a growl, and I’m speechless, literally speechless, his words igniting a fire low in my stomach. ‘You had plenty to say earlier, babe – why so quiet now?’ he asks, eyes dancing with amusement, and I look to the side, unable to hold his heavy gaze. ‘Don’t even think of turning your head away,’ he spits out, my stomach turning when he raises a hand to my chin, moving my head back to face him so my eyes can’t escape his. He holds my head in place, and the feeling of his hand resting loosely around my neck sparks arousal deep within me, my mouth drying. But I have too much pride to submit to him. ‘Give me my phone,’ I demand, and he lets out a chuckle, dark eyes not leaving mine. ‘I don’t know about that, angel. What will you do for me in return?’ he asks, pressing his body against mine so I’m trapped up against the door, and my eyes widen. ‘Nothing. It’s my phone,’ I say slowly, unable to believe how entitled he is. ‘It’s mine now,’ he grins, my mouth falling open. ‘Close your mouth before I spit in it, baby,’ he says, my mouth falling open even more in shock, stomach churning, arousal burning hot in my veins. ‘Don’t tempt me,’ he growls, pushing my mouth closed.

‘Get on your knees for me and I’ll consider giving you your phone back,’ he grins, and I can’t even say anything because he’s holding my mouth closed. ‘Is that a yes?’ he asks teasingly, and I make a noise of frustration, looking down at his hand to try and get him to move it. With a sigh, he removes his hand, and I snap, ‘get your hand off my neck, and give me my fucking phone, Park.’ ‘I always thought you’d be into choking. You seem like a dirty little slut,’ he grins, hand still not moving, my underwear flooding at his words. ‘I swear, Park, I will fucking kill you.’ ‘So you really, truly want me to let go of you? You really want to just get your phone and go?’ he asks, words dripping with amusement, testing me. And I can’t, I just can’t discard my pride – it’s too painful for me to concede to him. ‘Yes,’ I spit out, and his face twists with anger.

‘What is wrong with you, y/n? Why can’t you just fucking let go of your pride for once? I know you want me, I’m not fucking stupid! We’re both attracted to each other so why can’t you just stop fucking around and let me fuck you? I’m not going to do anything without your fucking consent, y/n, I’m not a fucking rapist! Why are you making this so fucking hard for me?’ he demands, rage making his voice shake, and I don’t know what to say. ‘I…’ ‘You what? Go on, fucking speak,’ he prompts, jaw working overtime as he waits for me to answer, hand still resting around my neck, his silver rings cool against my burning hot skin. ‘I do like choking,’ I breathe out, giving the only form of consent to him that my pride will allow, his face blank for a moment. ‘What?’ ‘I said… I do like choking,’ I whisper, his eyes lighting up slightly. I hold a finger up against his lips to stop him explicitly asking, hoping he’ll understand from my gaze. ‘Sure?’ he asks, plump lips moving against my finger, my heart warming at him double checking, and I nod. ‘I’m sure,’ I whisper back, and that’s all he needs to hear.

His hand tightens at my neck as he leans down, lips landing on mine. He kisses me, harshly, forcefully, his tongue sliding into my mouth within moments, turning my mind to slush and emptying my head of any thoughts other than how good he is at kissing. His free hand grips my waist, bruisingly tight, as my hands run through his hair, the soft and fluffy black locks tangling between my fingers, and he tastes like the citrusy vodka he was drinking, with the sweet undertone of my coke (the soft drink – not the drug). ‘On your knees,’ he growls, and I laugh against his lips. ‘No.’ ‘No?’ he asks, sounding amused. ‘No.’ He breaks away from me, looking down at me, heavy breaths escaping through his swollen lips. ‘Wanna say that again, babe?’ he asks, his gaze intimidating, but I don’t let myself break. ‘I said ‘no’. I’m not getting on my knees,’ I say forcefully, matching his serious stare with one of my own, and he lets out a little chuckle. Hand still around my neck, he grabs my arm with his free hand and pushes me towards the middle of the room before letting go of me and sitting at the edge of the bed he was lying on a few minutes ago, another bed on the other side of the room empty. ‘Strip,’ he commands, and I cross my arms over my chest, raising an eyebrow. ‘I swear to God, y/n, do not fucking test me. Take off your fucking clothes,’ he spits out, the rage from earlier reappearing, and I decide to follow his instructions, but have a little fun while I do so.

I grin at him before I slide my hands across my torso, slipping my fingers beneath my top and pulling it up over my head, slowly as I possibly can, leaving me in just my black lace bralet (my top was too thin to wear a padded bra). Once it’s off, I throw it to him, and he deflects it with a quick hand, just about stopping it from hitting his face. He sends me a hard glare (though I can see that he’s trying to hold back a laugh behind it) but it disappears the second I flick open the button of my jeans, pulling down the zip too, his gaze darkening. He’s so intimidating that I can’t help but feel self-conscious at undressing in front of him, but then I spot the growing bulge in his jeans, and it makes me feel a little better. I turn away from him, kicking off my heels, pushing my jeans down my legs and bending over to give him a view of my ass, covered by my black lace pants, and I know there’s probably a slightly darker patch between my legs. I straighten up again, stepping out of the denim pooled at my feet, and turn back to face him. He runs a hand through his hair, a smirk on his lips as he beckons me over with the curl of a finger. I step towards him and he reaches out, grabbing me by one wrist and pulling me onto his lap. He tilts his head back to kiss me again, my fingers tangling into his hair and nails scraping against his scalp as he digs his hands into my back, our bodies pressed together almost painfully. He pulls my bottom lip between his teeth before laving his tongue over the sore skin, making me let out a whimper against his mouth.

‘Feels good?’ he asks cockily, and I want nothing more than to take him down a peg, so I ignore him, just continuing to kiss him. ‘I asked you if it felt good,’ he says against my lips, hand reaching behind me to gather up my hair and pull my head back, exposing my neck to him. ‘And I ignored you,’ I reply, voice shaky, as he kisses up and down my neck, pulling the skin beneath my jaw between his teeth, marking me. ‘Petty… stubborn… uptight… bratty… little bitch,’ he says between marking my neck and skin around my collarbones, shaky breaths and little whines falling from between my lips every few seconds at the feeling of his tongue laving over the bruises caused by his perfect teeth and plump lips. ‘I’ll break you, y/n. You’ll be begging for my cock by the time I’m done with you,’ he says, lips curled into a smirk against my skin, and I let out a laugh. I lean down, my lips against his ear, and whisper, ‘less likely than you scoring a goal in the first match of the season. Which we all know is very unlikely.’ He scoffs, lifting me up and putting me down over his lap, my ass sticking up the air.

‘Safe word?’ he growls, sounding almost reluctant, and I feel a thrill at the thought that he’s planning on doing enough to me that I might need a safe word. I think for a moment, and his grip on my thigh tightens before he spits out, ‘hurry up.’ ‘How about… small dick?’ I ask, biting my lip to hold back laughter (I really do find myself funny), but my amusement quickly disappears when his hand delivers a solid slap to my raised ass, making me let out a small squeal of pain, and I look back at him with a glare. ‘Small dick it is,’ he says cheerfully with a grin at me before reaching out to turn my head away from him. ‘You’re being punished, bitch, you don’t get to look at me,’ he spits out before his hand lands down heavily on my ass again, in the exact same spot as the previous slap, making me yelp in pain. I begin squirming in his lap – this spanking is not it, but he holds me firmly in place, landing another slap on the same cheek, and another, and another, and-

‘Park, cut it out!’ I shriek, my ass stinging with pain, and I just know he’s grinning. ‘Safe word?’ he asks, and I bite my tongue, knowing I can’t give in this easy. ‘That’s what I thought,’ he says cheerfully, before wrenching my pants down just past my ass, his hand, spread wide, to land across both cheeks with every slap. I squirm on his lap, still trying to escape, but he’s strong, holding me still and spanking again and again. And then the pain begins to ebb away into pleasure, my yelps of pain becoming desperate whimpers, my pussy practically drenched. With one slap, his skin is inches from the place I need him most, and I can’t stop the moan that escapes my lips. ‘Enjoying being spanked like a dirty little bitch?’ he asks, stopping the tirade of slaps on my ass, but I stay silent, too proud to admit to it. The spanks continue with my silence, my ass burning with the pleasurable pain, and when he’s finally deemed it enough, he rubs a hand over my cheeks, the metal of his rings providing relief for my stinging skin.

‘You okay, y/n?’ he asks, momentarily breaking from his hard demeanour, my heart warming despite myself. ‘Yeah, I’m fine,’ I reply, sounding breathless to my own ears, and he chuckles. ‘You took your punishment well, for a little brat. What do you want now, babe?’ he asks, and I’m silent, too proud to tell him. ‘Well, you’re obviously deciding to be a stubborn little bitch, so we can sit here like this all night,’ he says, and I look up to see him with his arms crossed over his chest, looking relaxed and smug. I let out an annoyed huff, looking back at the ground, and I wait a few moments to say, ‘touch me.’ ‘What was that, angel?’ he asks, hand beginning to rub over my sore ass again, reliving some of the pain, and I sigh. ‘Touch me.’ ‘I am, baby,’ he replies easily, hand continuing to skim over my stinging skin, and I let out a frustrated whine. ‘You know what I mean, Park!’ I exclaim angrily, and he chuckles. ‘I’m not sure I do, babe. Spell it out for me,’ he prompts, endlessly amused, and I clench my jaw in anger. ‘Can you touch my pussy?’ I snap, and he chuckles, making my blood boil. ‘Can I touch your pussy…?’ he asks, and I let out another angry noise, not wanting to be polite to him at all. But he’s completely silent, waiting for me to speak, and I give in, spitting out the word, ‘please.’ ‘Good girl,’ he compliments, voice soothing, but his hand doesn’t move from my ass. And then he says, ‘but it took too long.’

‘Are you fucking kidding me? If you’re not going to fuck me, Park, I’m leav- oh! Oh, God,’ I moan out, my angry tirade cut off when he pushes two thick fingers deep between my folds, stretching me out almost painfully. My walls clench around him as I whimper, my slick coating his hand. ‘So fucking wet for me, oh, my God. Does being a bitch to me turn you on, angel?’ he asks, but it seems he doesn’t require an answer, pushing one of my legs off his lap to give him better access to my pussy, my foot on the floor to stop me from sliding off him. He begins to thrust his fingers in and out of me, fast, and my head falls down as I let out a loud moan because, God, he’s good, better than I could’ve imagined. ‘So tight,’ he groans, as I throb around his thick fingers, my hips rolling back unconsciously to meet the thrusts of his hand. I can feel my high nearing quickly, the spanking and teasing making me desperate, and his fingers are so fucking good. And then his thumb begins to rub at my clit harshly, forcing a startled moan out of me, and I’m so close, twitching around him as my entire body tenses.

And then he pulls his fingers out. I let out a frustrated whine, eyes prickling with tears as he chuckles, leaning down and holding his slick covered fingers in front of my face. I refuse to take his fingers into my mouth, lips sealed shut, and he sighs, before his other hand lands a harsh slap onto my swollen pussy. I let out a shriek of pain, but he doesn’t relent, landing more heavy slaps onto my sensitive folds, pulling pained moans from my mouth. ‘Stop making this so hard for yourself,’ he says through gritted teeth, and I reluctantly open my mouth, his fingers instantly slipping between my lips, the slaps ceasing as I lick his fingers clean of my arousal. ‘Look at you, being a good little slut for me,’ he says with satisfaction, making my blood boil, and I can’t help but bite down on his fingers, not hard enough for it to hurt, but hard enough for it to shock him. He jumps, making me grin in satisfaction, before ramming his two fingers back between my folds. I let out a loud moan as he pumps in and out of my pussy, the pleasure rolling over me in waves. The rough pads of his fingers brush against my walls, thumb nudging at my clit as I let out moan after moan, feeling my orgasm build back up. I clench around him even tighter, twitching against his fingers, and it’s like he’s already managed to identify when I’m close, pulling his fingers away at the last second.

‘No, please,’ I whine pathetically, bucking my hips up in frustration, and he chuckles. ‘It’s a bit late for ‘please’ now, babe. You can beg better than that,’ he prompts, and I want to cry, so desperate for a release that I give in, swallowing my pride to force out some desperate words that might persuade him. ‘Please, Park, please make me cum. I need it, I need it so fucking bad, need your fingers or your mouth or your cock, anything. I just need to cum,’ I beg, and he’s silent for a moment. ‘God, that’s fucking hot, y/n. But…’ he says, making me tense at the thought he’s not going to give me what I want. ‘Your begging means nothing – you’re just saying what you think I want to hear. You need to earn it, angel,’ he says, making me whine in frustration and thrash on his lap. I’ve had enough now – my vibrator can probably do a better job than him, and Jennie will be fast asleep now (she could sleep through an earthquake). ‘Call me by my name,’ he says, breaking through my anger, and I freeze. ‘What?’ ‘I said to call me by my name. You’ve only ever called me Park. If you swallow your pride and call me ‘Jimin’… I’ll make you cum as many times as you want,’ he says, and it sounds simple enough, tempting enough.

But I’m not giving him what he wants.

‘No.’ ‘No?’ ‘No.’ ‘Okay,’ he says simply, his fingers sliding back in easily, making me shudder. His fingers pump in and out of me, furiously fast, as his thumb rubs against my clit, my mind numbing with pleasure as I let out moan after moan, unable to stop myself, and I know I must be so loud right now, loud enough for my friends on the floor below to hear, but I don’t care. He curls his thick fingers, brushing against the soft spongy spot inside me, and I let out a loud whine. ‘Listen to you being nice and loud for me, like a good little bitch. You’re so close, aren’t you? Can feel your tight pussy clenching around my fingers. You’re gonna cum soon, right?’ he murmurs, fingers fucking into me relentlessly. ‘Call me Jimin. Swallow your pride, call me my name, and I’ll let you cum all over my fingers, as many times as you want, baby. Just call me Jimin,’ he says, voice so soothing that I’m almost persuaded, but no. I’m too proud, too stubborn. I bite down on my lip to stop myself, and he sighs. ‘Such a stubborn little bitch,’ he says, almost disappointedly, pulling his fingers out from me, and I let out a shriek of frustration.

‘Fuck, please, Park! Please let me cum, please! I’m so fucking desperate, need to cum so bad!’ I cry out, words slurred as my eyes fill with tears, vision blurring. He’s silent, just listening to my desperate begging, before plunging his fingers back into me, making me moan. And then he stops, fingers stilling inside me. ‘Park, please, feels so fucking good, please!’ I beg, his fingers continuing to thrust into me when I begin to speak, but stilling when I stop. ‘Please, Park, I need it, need it so fucking bad,’ I whine, and it’s an endless cycle, his fingers only moving when I speak, and stilling when I fall silent. I fall into a repeated cry of ‘please’ again and again until my throat is hoarse, his fingers bringing me close to the edge before he pulls out, yet again. ‘Oh, my God, Park, please make me cum! Please, I need it so bad, need to cum so bad,’ I beg pathetically, and he chuckles. ‘Not until you break,’ he says, pushing his fingers into my swollen pussy again. And he’s ruthless, relentless, fingers fucking into me so fast, so hard that it hurts, hurts so good, and I’m moaning out, loud and desperate. ‘Say it, baby, swallow your pride and say my name like a good girl. I can make you feel so good, angel, so good. Fuck you all night, eat this pretty little pussy until you’re begging me to stop. Just say my name, swallow your pride. Come on, babe, say my name,’ he murmurs, soothing voice mixed with how good his fingers feel fucking into me and his thumb rubbing at my clit that the prospect of not finishing, makes my eyes fill with tears. And I’m so close to breaking, so close. But his fingers disappear.

He lifts me up, moving my weak body to straddle one of his strong thick thighs, the material of his jeans against my pussy making me whimper. My hands grip onto his shoulders to support myself, and when my eyes meet his, I nearly cum from that alone. His eyes are so dark, impossibly dark, blown wide with lust, his hair a mess from him running his fingers through it, his lips swollen and shining in the low lamplight, skin flushed and hot. He looks so fucking hot. ‘Ride my thigh,’ he whispers, and it takes every last bit of my willpower to shake my head, no. ‘Such a fucking brat,’ he spits before he begins bouncing his thigh. I let out a strangled moan when my pussy rubs against the sturdy denim of his jeans, head lolling back, and he quickly grabs my waist to stop me from falling off his leg. He doesn’t stop, and I’m bouncing on his thigh, moans falling from my lips with every jolt, his eyes latching on to my breasts which bounce right in front of his face. ‘Fuck. So fucking hot,’ he says, hand wrenching down the centre of my bralet so my breasts fall out, straps digging into my shoulders. His plump lips attach to one of my nipples, waves of bliss washing over me at the mixed sensations, heightened when he reaches a hand down to rub my clit slowly. ‘Look how good I’m being to you,’ he says against my nipple, his saliva sliding down my breast as he speaks, ‘making you feel so good, angel. And you can’t even say my name. It isn’t that hard.’

I ignore him, focusing on keeping my orgasm at bay – I’d rather feel the pleasure of now for hours than have one more orgasm denied. ‘Say it,’ he says, moving to the other nipple, flicking his tongue over the bud before sucking it. ‘Fuck, please, Park.’ ‘Say it, angel.’ ‘Oh, God, feels so- oh! Fuck.’ ‘Come on, y/n. Just say my name, baby, and I’ll make you feel so good. You’re so close, I know you are. You’re gushing all over my thigh, can feel it through my jeans. Just say it, babe, and I’ll let you soak my thigh with your cum. Say it, angel. Swallow your pride for me, baby, and I’ll make you feel so good, fuck you all night long if that’s what you want.’ And I feel my high nearing, feel the knot in my stomach tightening, and I’m so close, so fucking close that I just can’t, I can’t lose it.

And I break.

‘Fuck, Jimin, please, make me cum, I need it,’ I cry out, a shit-eating grin spreading across his lips as I moan his name again and again, unable to stop because of how fucking good he feels. ‘Cum for me, angel,’ he whispers, and the second I hear him give me permission, I’m falling over the edge, crying out his name as I cum all over his thigh, shuddering as he continues bouncing his leg, thumb rubbing at my clit to prolong my high. ‘Such a good girl, so fucking good for me, angel,’ he whispers soothing words as I come down, his hands on my back gentle and comforting. The exhaustion that comes after my orgasm is heavy, making me fall into him, and he chuckles, holding me as I try to get my breath back, hands on his shoulders.

‘Are you too tired? You wanna stop?’ he asks, and I push myself off him with effort, trying my hardest to stay upright when I land on my feet. I pull my pants back up, and my bralet too before dropping to my knees (I hate being naked while I’m sucking someone off – it’s weird, but I hate being… on display). His eyes darken the second I hit the floor, and he can’t stand up quick enough, unbuckling his belt in record time. I pull his black jeans down to his ankles and he steps out of them, and he pulls his white t-shirt up over his head, throwing it over his shoulder as he steps out of his jeans, kicking them away. And then I pull down his boxers, leaving them bunched up at the top of his thighs, and my heart skips a beat, my eyes widening and my mouth watering at how beautiful he is. His legs are long and toned and his skin is tan and clear, pulled over hard muscles and a full six pack, his abs rippling as his long, thick length stands up against them, rock hard and leaking with precum. I spit on his dick, his breath catching in his throat at the contact, before I use my palm to spread my saliva over his length, his hips bucking. He’s so sensitive, reacting to my every touch, and I almost feel sorry for him, thinking how long he must have been hard. And he’s so big, so thick, with a beautiful fucking curve, that I actually wonder how the hell I’m supposed to get more than just the head of his cock in.

Without wasting time, I lick the tip, revelling in the shaky breath that falls from his lips, his salty precum spread across my tongue. I decide to give him a taste of his own medicine, kitten licking his tip, occasionally swirling my tongue around the head, exhales and gentle groans escaping from his lips. He soon gets impatient, gathering my hair up in one hand and trying to push my head further down onto him, but I resist his force. ‘Stop fucking teasing, y/n,’ he spits out, making me grin to myself, and I don’t waste another second before sinking down onto his length until he hits the back of my throat, the boy letting out a strangled moan as I begin to bob my head up and down. I can’t get my lips to the base of his cock, and my jaw quickly begins to ache, because he’s just too damn big, gags being forced from my throat every few seconds. I take him out of my mouth, placing my tongue at the base, licking up to his tip against the vein on the underside of his cock to relieve myself of having him in my mouth, but he’s quickly bucking his hips, desperate to have my lips around him again. I look up at him through my lashes as I swirl my tongue around the tip before slowly taking him in as far as possible, gagging around him, and when he hits the back of my throat, his head falls back, a desperate moan of my name falling from his lips, the sound rushing straight to my core.

I slowly build up my pace, steadily bobbing my head up and down, taking him in further each time. ‘Fuck, y/n, you’re so fucking good at this, oh, my God. So fucking good, angel, such a good little cockslut for me,’ he groans, hips bucking and making my eyes water, not to mention how hard he’s tugging on my hair, but his moans spur me on through the pain. And I just as I’m beginning to adjust, nearly getting him into my throat, he loses his patience. He starts thrusting into my mouth, controlling my head movements with the hand he has fisted in my hair, and all I can do is grab onto his thighs as he fucks my mouth. ‘Fuck, you’re so good. My perfect little whore, letting me fuck your mouth, and taking it so well. Love hearing you gagging,’ he says, thrusting particularly hard and prompting a gag from me, the noise making him moan. ‘So sexy,’ he whispers, and I moan around him, the vibrations making him thrust faster. Tears stream down my face, saliva bubbling around my mouth and dripping down my chin and neck.

And then there’s a knock at the door, followed by, ‘Jimin, you in there?’ Jimin stills completely and opens his mouth to reply, but I get an idea, deciding to get my revenge for all the edging. I bob up and down on his length, furiously fast, hands playing with his balls, and a strangled groan falls from his lips, panic in his eyes when he looks down at me. ‘y/n,’ he says, almost pleadingly, and I look up at him innocently, as the door opens. I take his dick out of my mouth, looking around Jimin to see Hoseok stood in the doorway, eyes widening at the sight with Namjoon stood behind him, quickly clapping his hand over his eyes when he sees us. ‘I…’ Hoseok says, Jimin sighing before looking at him over his shoulder. ‘Yes?’ ‘Sorry. But I did ask if you were in here,’ Hoseok says, eyes flitting to me, and I can see him holding back a laugh when I grin at him mischievously. ‘Please, Hobi, just get what you need, and go,’ Jimin says tiredly, Hoseok nodding as he darts in, grabbing a charger from what must be the other bed which must be his, before darting back out, dropping a wink at me before he shuts the door.

And Jimin looks down at me, his gaze making my stomach turn. ‘Get up. Now,’ he spits out, and I rise up from the floor as slowly as possible as he pushes his boxers off, leaving him stood in all his glory. He’s so fucking beautiful, an absolutely Adonis – his body is perfect, like it’s been carved by the Gods. He rips my pants off as he reaches around me, unclasping my bralet with unmatched expertise, pulling it off my arms, and throwing both items over his shoulder. He grabs me by the neck, forceful but not violent, and walks me backwards to his bed, pushing me down and climbing over me. ‘You think you’re funny, huh?’ he demands, no regard for how tight he’s gripping my throat, and I grin, enjoying how pissed off he is. ‘We were doing well, and you just had to fucking ruin it,’ he spits out, entire weight on me, and I struggle for air, the lack of oxygen making my head spin pleasurably. ‘You like being caught in the act, huh? Like being a dirty little bitch and being on your knees for me in front of my friends? Or d’you just like pissing me off?’ he demands, eyes dark with anger, veins in his neck corded tight. ‘Like… pissing… you off. Thought… we could… try… hate… sex…’ I breathe out between deep inhales, desperately trying to take in enough air, and he smirks. ‘Thought you’d piss me off, so I’d hate you?’ he asks, and I grin as best as I can, eyes watering. He reaches down and grips his cock in one hand, running his length along my folds teasingly, sending little waves of pleasure through me. ‘Don’t make me beg,’ I whisper, my hoarse voice making him loosen his grip slightly, a smirk stretching his lips out. ‘That’d be mean, right? After how good you’ve been for me?’ he says sarcastically, eyebrow raised, and I fix him with a glare, his hand tightening again, rings digging into my skin. ‘Beg, bitch,’ he spits harshly, and I’m silent, our eyes locked together. ‘I could cum just like this,’ he says, still running his cock across my folds, and I sigh, the thought of him not fucking me making me snake my hand around the back of his neck, pulling him down to press my lips to his ear and whisper, ‘Fuck me, Jimin, so hard I can’t fucking walk, for as long as you fucking want. Fill me up with your big fat cock until I can’t breathe. Don’t care about me – I’m just a slut for you to use for your own pleasure, a whore for you to fill with your cum until your balls are empty.’ My words make him gulp, eyes blown wide with desire, and I press my lips to his, speaking against his mouth:

‘Fuck me like you hate me.’

He plunges all the way into me, both of us moaning, ‘fuck’, drawing the word out until he bottoms out, and it’s so fucking good. He’s so thick, the stretch burning deliciously, the curve of his cock having him fill me up perfectly, brushing up against my spongy spot without even meaning to. He doesn’t give me even a second to adjust, pulling all the way out before slamming back in, both of us letting out moans at the feeling. He sets a bruisingly fast pace, the bed hitting the wall with each strong thrust of his. ‘So fucking tight. Gonna stretch you out with my fat cock, gonna ruin you for everyone else,’ he growls, forcing the words out with effort, his energy being taken up by thrusting into me, and it’s euphoria, absolutely euphoria. ‘I’d… like to see you… try,’ I breathe out between moans, and he chuckles, hammering into me, heavy balls slapping against my skin. ‘I already broke you, angel – don’t make me embarrass you by doing it again,’ he growls, hand still tight around my neck, my hands on his back, nails digging into his skin, hard. He grabs one of my legs, lifting it to rest on his shoulder, and he goes even deeper than before, my eyes rolling back into my head at the feeling of his cock dragging against my walls.

Obscene squelching and the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room with my moans and whimpers, his groans and grunts, the smell of sex thick on the air as he abuses my pussy, pounding into me like there’s no tomorrow, and all I can think is, ‘why the fuck haven’t we done this already?’ ‘Fucking gushing around me, soaking my bed like a good little slut. Gonna smell like you for days – my other bitches will know I’ve had a cock-hungry whore in here,’ he moans against my ear, rage filling me at the mention of other girls, and I can’t help myself. I slap him around the face, and he just grins at me, cheek reddening, not ceasing his thrusting. ‘Jealous? Don’t worry, baby, you’re the best I’ve ever had. I’ll ruin you, but you’ve ruined me. Only want your pussy from now. Want you to be my good little bitch, my sex toy,’ he grunts, cock hammering into me relentlessly, my walls clenching around him. ‘Only if you eat my pussy with those pretty lips,’ I whisper with a grin, and he chuckles, smirking. ‘Can’t wait to taste your pussy, angel. But let me fill it with my cum first,’ he breathes out against my neck, making me moan, before he practically pushes me down into the mattress, cock pounding into me bruisingly hard.

‘So fucking tight around me, baby, like you’ve never been fucked. Your cunt was made for me, huh? Scream my name out, babe. Let everyone in the damn house hear how good my cock makes you feel,’ he prompts, and I can’t help but do as he says, head thrown back into the pillow as he repeatedly hits my g-spot, crying his name repeatedly like a mantra. And I can feel my orgasm approaching, my walls clenched around him, my nails raking down his back, moans falling from my mouth again and again. ‘You gonna cum for me, baby? Come on, want you to soak my cock like a good little slut. Cum for me, angel,’ he whispers against my ear, hand snaking down to rub at my clit, other hand still tight around my neck, pushing me down into the mattress, and I feel the knot in my stomach tightening, head full of bliss. And then he hits the spot inside me head-on, and I reach my high.

I scream out his name, so loud it feels like it’s being ripped out of throat, my own voice ringing in my ears as I cum around him, gushing out release, walls clamped around him so tight he can’t move, and so he rubs at my clit to prolong my orgasm. Never have I felt an orgasm this intense, never felt pleasure like this, and my vision becomes blurry as the tears run down my face, mouth hanging open, eyes rolling back into my head and nails raking down his back, breaking the skin. And when I begin coming down, my walls loosening around him, he starts chasing his own high, with no concern for me at all. He slams into me, again and again, the bed probably leaving dents in the wall every time it bumps against it, and the overstimulation is too much, making me sob. But he doesn’t care, one hand pressing into the mattress, the other one still around my neck as he fucks into me, grunts and groans falling from his lips, and when my vision clears, I nearly cum again at the sight of him.

His black hair is pasted to his head with sweat, his skin completely drenched and glistening with perspiration, mouth wide open and letting out whispers of my name, lips swollen and shining. His eyes are dark, impossibly dark, completely blown wide with lust, and his face is flushed and contorted with pleasure. His muscles ripple with the effort of fucking me, desperate whines escaping his lips as he chases his high, body tense and strong. He looks like sin incarnate.

And I can feel him nearing his orgasm, dick twitching inside me, and I tighten around him, digging my heel into his back to hold him place, his hips stuttering with erratic thrusts. ‘Fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum. Gonna cum in this tight little pussy. So good for me, so good,’ he moans loudly, making my lips curl in satisfaction before he lets out a cry of, ‘fuck, y/n, gonna cum!’ He buries himself deep inside me, head falling to rest in the crook of my neck, biting down on my skin as he cums, thick and hot ropes of his release painting my insides. And there’s so much of it, an endless amount of cum flooding me, and my sensitive walls fluttering around him prolongs his high, milking his cock for all he has.

Once he’s done, he pulls his softened cock out of me, moving down the bed with a grin, wanting to see his masterpiece. ‘You squirted, you know?’ he says nonchalantly, eyes momentarily flitting up from my pussy to meet mine, and I can’t mask the surprise quick enough, a satisfied smirk stretching across his lips. ‘Thought so. I’m the best you’ve ever had, right, babe?’ he asks, eyes trained on my folds, waiting for his cum to leak out of me, and I don’t reply. ‘God, after such a good fucking, you’re still a stubborn little bitch? Well, whatever. If it makes you feel better, that was the best I’ve ever had too,’ he says, and I’m silent, attempting to ignore the thrill that runs through me – he’s fucked that many girls, but I’m the best. ‘Your moans are so pretty, angel. My name sounds good on your lips,’ he grins, and I roll my eyes, dropping my head back to rest on the pillow – I’m absolutely exhausted, physically and mentally (and of him). ‘Do you always talk this much after sex?’ I ask, and he chuckles. ‘Nope. I usually give them a kiss on their cheek and send them on their way. You should be honoured you’re getting pillow talk,’ he says cockily, and I scoff. ‘Fuck you.’ ‘I just did,’ he says, voice dripping with mirth, and I roll my eyes.

And then I feel it. His cum beginning to drip out of me. ‘God, I really did cum deep, huh? Look how long it took,’ he says, words lined with fascination as he watches my pussy intently. ‘Remember when you said I’ve got a tiny dick?’ he laughs, and I let out an annoyed noise. ‘Shut up,’ I say half-heartedly, before he collects up some of his cum on his fingers, making me let out a shaky breath as I look down at him. He holds his fingers out to me, and I don’t bother waiting this time, licking them clean, and his cum is actually... not bad. Sweet and almost… fruity. But I’m knocked out of my thoughts about his semen when he licks a bold stripe up my pussy, a broken moan falling from my lips. ‘I… didn’t think my cum would taste this good. Or maybe it’s just your pussy,’ he says casually, as though discussing the taste of cocktails. ‘I think it’s your cum.’ ‘Let me test it,’ he says before delving back down for another taste of my juices, making me moan before I thread my fingers into his hair, pulling him away. ‘I’m too sensitive,’ I say gently, and he nods, moving to lie beside me. ‘It’s you, by the way. Your pussy tastes amazing. You gotta let me eat you out in the morning,’ he says, and I turn to look at him, raising an eyebrow and trying to ignore how handsome he is. ‘In the morning?’ ‘Well, if you wanna stay the night, that is,’ he offers indifferently, but I can see that he’s a little nervous underneath the casual demeanour, and so am I, panicking at the prospect of this… not being just sex.

‘Where’s my phone?’ I ask, and he laughs at the swift topic change, before reaching his hand under the pillow my head is on, pulling out my phone, and handing it to me as I thank him – though I shouldn’t have to say thanks for getting my phone back. But whatever. I start to get up, slowly sitting up and swinging my legs over the side of the bed. ‘Are you leaving?’ he asks, almost panicked, and I laugh. ‘I gotta clean myself up, and go to the toilet – I don’t want a UTI. Where’s the bathroom?’ I ask, and he pulls a face. ‘It’s the last door in the corridor,’ he says, sitting up to watch me as I collect up my clothes, legs shaky. ‘You’re not gonna put those tight ass clothes back on, are you?’ he asks, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘It’s not like I brought a spare change,’ I say, and he laughs, getting out of bed. He goes to his wardrobe, getting out a loose black long-sleeved top of his, and then to his chest of drawers, delving deep into one of the drawers and pulling out a pair of black Nike socks and a pair of black cotton pants, holding them out to me. And I look at him, looking back at the clothes, before looking back up at him, and then back at the clothes. ‘I hope to God you’re not expecting me to wear those random pants,’ I say with disgust, and he laughs. ‘They’re brand new, I promise. Rosie bought a pack to keep here for when… hers weren’t suitable to wear anymore, and these are from that pack – they’ve never been worn. I swear. And the top and socks are mine – freshly washed,’ he says, and I nod, still suspicious, sniffing the pants when he hands them to me. They smell clean, and I decide to give him the benefit of the doubt – I’d rather not be underwear-less in a frat house. So I pull the pants on, and then his top, trying to ignore how it smells exactly like him, the nice scent filling my senses, and it’s long enough that it covers my ass completely, hem brushing against my thighs. I pull on the socks, soft material nice against my tired feet (I don’t know why I wear heels – it’s literal torture).

‘Make sure you knock – there might be someone in there,’ he says meaningfully, and I scrunch my nose up in disgust. ‘Who fucks in the bathroom of a frat house?’ I ask, and he’s silent, looking a little sheepish. ‘That’s gross. Please, don’t. I don’t want to know,’ I say when he opens his mouth to explain, and he nods, holding back a laugh. I open the door, looking down the corridor to see if it’s empty before rushing towards the bathroom. Thankfully it’s empty, so I wee and clean myself up, trying to ignore how much of a state I look. Once I’m done, I look a little more presentable, but it’s clear I’ve just been fucked, my eyes a little heavy and lips swollen, and my skin glowing. My makeup (which was a full face) is minimal now, my mascara slightly smudged around my eyes and my foundation patchy around my mouth and chin, so I blend it out as best as I can, and it doesn’t actually look that bad. The most noticeable thing is the purpling marks from his mouth, his hand and his rings around my neck and under my jaw, the ones on my collarbones hidden by his top. I run my fingers through my hair, and have it hanging around my face, not really covering the marks, but it’s the best I can do. I head back into Jimin’s bedroom, and I stifle a laugh at seeing that he’s fast asleep. And he looks really fucking cute, lips pouted, hair messy and face relaxed with slumber. How can he go from being the most annoying person in the world, to being sin personified, to being adorable? It’s obvious he was expecting me to stay the night with him – he’s on one side of the bed, the other side with two pillows, my phone sat atop them with the blanket pulled down for me to climb in.

But I can’t. I can’t stay the night and pretend like everything’s okay. Yes, he just gave me the best fucking of my life, but I’m not sure if it makes up for all the times he’s been a dick to me over the past couple years. And now, he’s expecting me to climb into bed with him, to act like we’re more than just two people who hate each other, and acted on our sexual tension and attraction to one another. Because that is all we are. But then he said things like me being the best he’s had, and that he wants to eat me out in the morning, and he’s expecting me to stay the night when he never lets anyone stay the night – everyone knows that about him. So maybe he doesn’t hate me, which is terrifying, because I cannot deal with Park Jimin not hating me.

So I have to make him hate me.

Quietly, I grab my phone, and he moves in his sleep, stirring, making me panic and run out of the room, leaving behind my clothes and shoes. I venture to the end of the corridor, ordering my Uber before looking down the flight of stairs, spotting the group of my friends still sat on the landing, Chaeyoung sat closest. ‘Chaeng, I whisper, but she doesn’t hear me. ‘Chaeng!’ I hiss a little louder, and she looks around before spotting me, opening her mouth to speak before I hold a finger to my lips. She gets up, pretending she’s going to the bathroom before rushing up the stairs. ‘Are you okay?’ ‘Yeah, but I need to, like, escape. I’ve ordered an Uber, but I left my shoes in his room,’ I say, and she instantly slides off her sparkly silver sliders. ‘Don’t you need them?’ ‘Yoongi said I could stay the night,’ she says shyly, making me squeal with excitement for her, a little smile on her face. ‘You know there’s no way you’re gonna be able to leave without everyone seeing you?’ she says, and I sigh, slipping her shoes on. ‘I know, but I can’t stay. I can’t share a bed with him,’ I say, and she raises an eyebrow. ‘Girl, we heard everything. Everything. But staying the night is where you draw the line?’ she asks, and I nod, absolutely humiliated that they could hear. ‘Yes. I still hate him,’ I say as though it’s obvious, and she just nods, holding back a laugh. ‘Come on, then,’ she says, leading me down the stairs, and I’m so embarrassed when my friends spot me, jeering and laughing. ‘Walk of shame!’ Bambam shouts, before the boys all begin chanting it, and I cover my face in embarrassment. ‘Bye, girls!’ I call over the racket, the girls all bidding me goodbye before Chaeyoung leads me down the next flight of steps.

She turns the handle of the front door, pushing it open for me, and I quickly rush out before I can run into anyone else. ‘Thanks, Chaeng, you’re the best. I’ll drop these off tomorrow,’ I say, motioning to the shoes, and she waves my words off. ‘Just bring them to try-outs next weekend. Text me when you get home,’ she says, and I nod, my phone buzzing to let me know my Uber’s a minute away. ‘See you, Chaeng,’ I call over my shoulder, heading up to the pavement. My Uber pulls up, and I turn to wave at Chaeyoung, instead seeing her being pushed out of the way by Jin and Jungkook who are cheering and shouting at me, running over. I quickly jump into the Uber before they can reach me, telling the driver to go quickly, and he does so, leaving Dumb and Dumber in our dust. I’m silent the entire journey back, trying my hardest to stay awake, and I can feel him looking at me in the rear-view mirror, probably wondering why I’m dressed the way I am, getting into an Uber at 4am. Or maybe he knows exactly why.

When we pull up to my accommodation, the sky is already beginning to lighten with morning just around the corner, and I thank him, climbing out of the Uber and heading into the building, entire body aching. I take the lift, having to lean one hand against the wall as I walk down the corridor towards our door. And then I realise I left my bag, with my keys in them, in Jimin’s bedroom. I’d hoped to sneak in whilst Jennie was asleep, but I’ll definitely have to wake her up now. I knock on the door, not too loud because I don’t want to wake anyone in the neighbouring rooms up, but it works, Jennie instantly opening the door. And she doesn’t look like she’s been sleeping, wide awake and fixing me with a hard glare. She knows.

‘How the hell do you know?’ I ask tiredly as she moves to the side to let me in, looking me up and down. ‘Namjoon phoned me after your conversation with him, to clear the air. And halfway through our reconciliation, I can hear shouting in the background, and he kindly informs me that you and Jimin were having a screaming match on ASP’s front lawn. And then he texts me around an hour and a half later to say he’d just seen you on your knees in Jimin’s bedroom with his dick in your mouth,’ she says, voice harsh but eyes sparkling with amusement. ‘I know, I know, I’m an idiot. But I’m really fucking tired and achy so can I sleep first? I promise, I’ll let you lecture me all you want in the morning,’ I say as I collapse into my bed, and she just stares at me for a moment before nodding, a small grin on her face. ‘It’s about time you got laid.’ ‘Oh, thanks.’ ‘I want all the details in the morning.’ ‘I’m not sure you do.’ ‘Ew.’

[mystic-kitten-writer]

Limerence [M] ︳33

Pairing: Zuko x OC

Genre: Romance, mainly fluff with future smut, and if you squint hard enough - you’ll find some angst.

Rating: SFW

Words: 18300+

Notes: I’m finally finished! Thank you guys for being so patient with me - I can’t even begin to express my gratitude. I feel horrible for making you guys wait so long - so I’ll cut to the chase and tell you the good news! Due to the corona virus - my summer courses have been cancelled, so I’m no longer graduating this summer (no, this isn’t the good news) - but because of this, that means your beech gets to update more often! So I plan on dropping an update schedule for all my stories, and my goal is to update every week (alternating stories).

Next - I got an Ao3 account! A lot of people asked me to make one, so I did. I’m going to take this week to edit Limerence (the first few chapters min.) before posting my work on there. But now Tumblr and Ao3 will contain all Explicit chapters of Limerence! 

The next fun bit of news is the next update you’ll receive will be a double update for Limerence! I was going to end this chapter a bit differently, but my friends pointed out a few things - and they convinced me others wise. Because of that, I’m planning on doing a double update. I can’t go too in-depth with it without spoiling, but at least you guys have that to look forward to!

But regardless, please stay healthy and safe! Love you tons, take care~!

Masterlist ︳32 ︳ 34

❤ Buy me a coffee? ❤

Limerence: (English/n.) the state of being infatuated with another person.

The moment their eyes locked they knew - the flames within him twisted while the water within her turned. It was a connection, a connection that would lead to love, adventure, and drama.

“Eccedentesiast”

(Latin/n.) Someone who fakes or forces a smile when all they want to do is cry, disappear, or die.

~ Ying Yue Jiang ~

           There it laid, in my hands, glistening under the sunlight, the black onyx seemingly glowing. The dragon that was painted in gold looked beyond realistic; the red ruby protectively held in its grasp. The golden paint held pink reflections in the scales, each claw wrapped around the gem as if it were a newborn child – protecting it with its life.

           My finger trailed down the soulful image, feeling every ridge and divot engraved in the emblem. Anyone could feel the love, the power, in the illustration – how awe-inspiring it was. But I found myself stilling, the words engraved at the very bottom of the heavy seal mocking me.

           Imperial Consort of the Fire Lord.

           It was like a vice grip; someone squeezing my heart and causing my body to tremble. Since my official debut, and receiving this seal, I hadn’t once touched it. I was keeping it locked in my drawer for safekeeping. This mere chuck of mineral, the symbolism behind it, was beyond royal Fire Nation customs. My truest feelings…

           I could remember the butterflies in my stomach, the silly smile I bore as I took my oath that day. Zuko was delicately smudging the red paint on my forehead, the mark of the consort. A weak smile emerged on my face. Gosh, how flushed Zuko, and I was that day. Me unable to contain my nerves as we stood in front of thousands – declaring our devotion to each other.

           I already loved Zuko at that point; I was just too shy to tell him. Being near him, seeing Zuko happy and spending time with me was good enough. That day, I may have been nervous, but I was delighted - the happiest I had been in years.

           The seal slipped from my grip, falling onto the bed. My shoulder’s slumped, feet dangling over the edge, hands covering my face.

           I was selfish.

           I could still recall the way Zuko thrashed, his face twisted in pain, eyes teary as he clawed at his throat in desperation. I could feel the pain he was in, the fear, utterly helpless – a look I’ve only seen once, and that was when we were facing Yakone.

           Zuko was dying, right before my eyes, and I couldn’t deal with it.

           Everything happened so fast, and I could feel my hands starting to tremble. The image was still far too vivid, too fresh. I almost lost Zuko – no.

           I did lose him.

           “Yue…” a tender voice whispered out, a tone that could only belong to Aang. I swallowed back a sob, letting my hands fall from my face, trying to wipe all evidence that I was crying. Too weak to lift my head, my hands laid on my lap.

           Aang’s footsteps were soundless, and I could already visualize the way he was cleverly studying my sitting figure, trying urgently to read my mood. “Katara told me that Zuko is going to be okay; she induced him into a deep slumber to speed up his recovery, but…you saved him.” Aang spoke, and I noticed how clear his voice sounded, he was closer.

            “Thank you…” I muffled softly, running an unsteady hand through my tangled locks.

           Not even thirty minutes passed since everything went down, I hadn’t had time to change or clean my appearance, besides wiping my blood-stained fingertips. My hair fell in front of my face again, and I used the opportunity to wipe the rogue tear. I’m a complete disaster.

           “Yue…” Aang worried, but this time I felt his cool touch.

           His fingers caressed my face, tilting my head upwards to meet his sincere gaze. He was kneeling in front of me, the floor cleared of all the shards that once littered the bedroom floor. His face was pale, eyes round as he considered my figure. I saw the way his lips twitched, eyes shifting back and forth, trying to think of the right words.

           What to say, what to think, what to do.

           But what more could Aang say?

           What could be said about everything that managed to transpire in the last half hour that hasn’t been thought of already? My heart fastened in pace, mind spinning with the unknown. Why was the tea poisoned, who poisoned the drink– As if Aang could read my mind, a long exhale escaped him, pressing his forehead against mine.

           “I’m so sorry, Yue,” Aang breathed, his voice fragile – defeated.

           My bottom lip trembled, hearing the ache in Aang’s voice, his touch moving up my face so his thumbs could rub my temples. My body limped under his tender touches, head falling into his shoulder – a soundless cry leaving my lips.

           It was like he let loose to all of my thoughts, everything that tortured my mind manifesting into tears. I’m lost. I clawed at Aang’s mustard coloured robes, desperately seeking air. Every sharp gasp seemed to feed into the shivers, the anxieties and insecurities that haunted my mind, growing and swarming.

           Aang embraced my hunched body, bringing me closer to his own. “I-it’s my fault, Aang.” I sniffled, confessing the very thing that seemed to devour me. Aang cooed into my hair, his face pressed against my chaotic locks. “That’s not true, Yue-” he insisted, but I refuted his claim.

           “T-that tea was meant for me. If-if I had drunk it, if I had stopped Zuko-”

           “That would’ve been worse. You could save Zuko, but the reverse can’t happen.”

           “You don’t get it, Aang.” I wept, cowering away in frustration, to face him. His eyes were red and glossy as he stared back at me intently, mirroring the same pained expression that I wore.

           “You-you didn’t see the look on Zuko’s face. The moment he realized what I am.” I choked, struggling to string the words together. I wasn’t crying cause Zuko got hurt. Gosh, Zuko’s been through the spirit world and back – he knew pain.

           The tears that decorated my rose-coloured cheeks, they were tears of mourning.

           I may have saved Zuko, physically – but I lost him emotionally, mentally, symbolically. How could Zuko look at me, let alone love me? I was a monster – the very thing everyone was trying so hard to rid of.

           “You’re still you, Yue. Words can’t even begin to describe how much Zuko cares for you. How important you are to him, to us.” Aang blew, bringing me back to his shoulder to snuggle. I could feel his clothes dampening, but he didn’t complain once, preoccupied with easing my choked cries.

           I snivelled, pressing my eyes shut to stop the tears from overflowing - if only it were that easy. What about everybody else – Katara, Sokka, Suki, Toph? What are they going to think knowing what kind of monster I am? The words they lashed out the other day, they meant it, each and every word. It was only a matter of time they figured out what happened, what I had done if they hadn’t learned already.

           A Bloodbender – that is what I am, and there’s no running away from it anymore.

           Aang continued to rock me back and forth, dragging me out of the pits of my darkest thoughts, pulse slowing. He was buzzing softly as we swayed, feeling his lips sweeping my head. I found my body lazing in his embrace, nestling my head deeper in the crook of his neck.

           It was nothing like Zuko’s embrace, the sweet tune he often sung during our highs and lows. I bit my tongue to stop the wave of nostalgia from overwhelming me. I want Zuko, that’s all I want.

           I want us to be back in bed, laughing at our silly jokes, even if it meant accepting that terrible rate of two kisses per half hour.

           I snickered bitterly at the mere thought of our pointless banter from this morning. The banter that always rose whenever Zuko and I were left alone to our own devices. Meaningless talk that always had me bursting from happiness at the way Zuko managed to tease me mercilessly, a constant blush to paint my cheeks. The way he holds me close to his chest, our limbs intertwined – like two puzzle pieces coming together.

           Aang leaned back slightly, started by the sudden giggle.

           “What’s so funny?” He mumbled, and I drew away, wiping a tear with the back of my hand. Aang watched a tear escape my effort, the drop rolling down my stained cheeks. Without thinking twice, he tugged on his sleeve to dry it. “T-this morning.” I hiccuped, shaking my head with a sad smile, recalling the romantic moment that just took place.

           “Zuko said that I owe him two kisses per half-hour every time he keeps me warm.” I snorted, my gaze dropping to my lap, fingers twirling. “I-I told him no way, but now-but now I want nothing more but to give him those two kisses plus more.”

           Aang smiled sympathetically, hearing my confession, cupping my hands and bringing them to his chest. It was then I noticed how my hands trembled and the heat that Aang was radiating. It was nothing like the heat from Zuko, his natural, the fire within him.

           But regardless, feeling the warmth from Aang’s palms, spreading towards my own, had me mewling in delight. I was freezing, so used to having Zuko by my side, stealing his warmth like how Momo clung onto Appa for dear life. How did I survive in the Southern Water Tribe as long as I did without Zuko to warm me up?

           “I know I’m no Zuko…I don’t have the hard rock abs or long hair, or overall cranky attitude.” Aang spoke light-heartedly, testing the waters. And despite the tense mood, I couldn’t help but giggle at Aang’s words, a genuine giggle.

           Aang’s small smile shifted to a greater one knowing he enticed a laugh from me, letting his fingers intertwine with mine, placing them over his heart. “I’ll never be Zuko, Yue; no one could replace him. But he did teach me how to conduct heat, just in case, I have to warm you up for him whenever he can’t be beside you. Because trust me, Yue. There’s nowhere else Zuko would rather be than by your side.”

           A shy blush rose to my cheeks, hearing Aang say some of the sweetest yet cheesiest lines to date. Lines that only Zuko could manage to make somewhat non-cringe-able. But that was the magic of Aang; he always managed to change the mood in a flash.

           Wearing his emotions on his sleeves, Aang was never afraid to put himself in other people’s shoes, experience their pain, and empathize. This is why he’s the Avatar, and Katara is beyond lucky to land someone as sensitive and considerate as Aang.

           “Thank you, Aang…I-I-you accepted me the moment you saw me. You gave me a home, friends, a family. I owe you everything.” I said, voice cracking because it was true. If it weren’t for that faithful day, saving Aang, him insisting on a meal – I would've never been where I was now.

           But Aang merely shrugged his shoulders, letting my hands drop to my lap. “I lost my family, my Nation…I know how it feels to be alone. If it weren’t for Katara and Sokka, I don’t think I would’ve been able to grow, but now I have a place to call home.”

           “…Katara is home for you, isn’t she?” I timidly mumbled, and Aang smiled.

           “She’s my world.”

           “Zuko…he’s my home…but between you and me, he’s my universe.” I twinkled softly, and Aang chuckled. “You really had to try and one-up me?” he teased, his hand briefly scratching the top of my head.

           “I learned that from Sokka.” I peeped, a bit of playfulness arising from within me despite the melancholy that ran through my veins. “Of course, Sokka taught you that, make sure Katara doesn’t find out.” Aang muttered under his breath, trying to sound annoyed, but those were emotions seemingly foreign to Aang. He patted my head once more before dropping his touch.

           Our soft laughs died down, Aang letting his fingers trace over my own delicately as we sat in silence. Mimicking the way I usually outlined the natural lines or scars the littered Zuko’s palms and arms. Zuko…

           Zuko is okay; he’s in safe hands with Katara…and while I don’t know what was going to happen to us, I could get answers for something else. “Aang…umm…what did-what did the others say about, you know.” I whispered, shifting my gaze back to him.

           Aang’s easy-going expression flattered for a moment, letting out a conflicted sigh as he rubbed the back of his head. I spotted the look on his face, the same look when he was unsure as to what to say when he first entered. “It’s a …complicated.” He started, and I rose a brow at his words, not the words I was expecting to hear, let alone from him.

           “What does that mean, Aang?” I implored, clenching his hand anxiously. Aang’s mouth opened and closed, another great lament escaping him, fighting with himself. He doesn’t know whether or not he should spill.

           “Don’t worry about it, Yue. You have so much on your plate already-.”

           “But I do worry, Aang. I need to know. I’m tired of being left in the dark because people think I can’t handle the truth.” I pressured, and the look in my eyes must have spoken wonders because Aang broke.

           He pulled from my grip, scratching behind his head once again, a look of shame etched in his face. “I told them the truth. I told them that you used Waterbending to save Zuko.” Aang mumbled under his breath, his words nearly blending at how soft-spoken he was. My eyes narrowed, tilting my head in confusion. Told them…the truth?

           And that’s when it clicked.

           “You lied to them.” I gasped.

           “No, I told them the truth. Bloodbending is a form of Waterbending, is it not?” Aang stubbornly insisted, but even I spotted the doubt in his words. He didn’t even fully believe what he was saying to me. He sounded just like me, lying to himself about the truth – trying to convince himself more than me.

           I glowered, shaking my head as I twisted my fingers, “Omitting the truth is just another way of lying,”

           “But it keeps you safe.”

           I snorted, “They couldn’t possibly believe that, Aang. Waterbending wouldn’t have been enough to save Zuko. Katara should’ve figured that out by now-”

           “It’s easy to lie to the people who trust you the most.”

           It felt as if someone was twisting my stomach from the inside out – Aang doesn’t lie.

           Aang always tells the truth, but for me – he lied to everyone.

           My head hung low, biting my lips as I squeezed my eyes shut.“I’m so sorry, Aang-” I whimpered, the heaviness of the situation hitting me like a ton of bricks. He lied to not only his friends but the love of his life for me.

           He took advantage of Katara’s trust – all because of me.

           I was not only causing pain upon Zuko but now the people who I viewed as family.

           Aang cupped my face, forcing our gazes to meet. My amber coloured eyes met with his chocolate ones – a tenderness rooted deep in the stare. I found myself in utter awe, because despite it all, Aang still bore an amiable smile, dismissing my apologies with ease. “Some things must be done, and I know, in the long run, this is for the better.”

           I sniffled, “I trust you, Aang.”

           “Sokka, Suki, and Toph are working with the guards to figure out who did this to Zuko. We’re going to get through this together.”

           “Aang…what if-what if Zuko doesn’t forgive me?” I trembled.

           Just the thought of Zuko in the infirmary, hurt and in pain – at the mercy of the nurses and Katara made me feel sick. But the idea of this being the end of us after everything because of my greed. Because of my inability to be honest with Zuko took the cake.

           If only I were stronger if only I weren’t broken and a monster-

           Aang’s expression softened, ready to coddle me back to his chest, “Zuko loves you, Yue. Please don’t blame yourself-”

           A loud knock interpreted Aang’s speech, both us jumping at the noise.

           Whoever it was didn’t stop with a single blow, no – they were hasty and non-stop. Someone desperately wanted in. Who could it be? A guard, a maid? Aang tapped my cheeks appreciatively before rising to his feet.

           “I’ll get it.” He muttered, but I couldn’t help but notice how it failed to reach his eyes.

           There was a stiffness in Aang’s usual airy steps, much like when Toph used her seismic senses to feel. Aang wasn’t expecting anyone…he’s being cautious. I found my back straightening, brushing my hair as I observed the way Aang eased his way to the doors, the knocking lingering.

           His hand gripped the handle, leaning towards the entry and jarring it just a crack. My curiosity grew, slanting forward to see or catchword of who was so enthusiastically rapping away. Aang’s head popped out the room, and his body relaxed instantly, a surprised squeak leaving him.

           “Ursa-” Aang spoke, and I froze in my spot.

           Zuko’s mom?

           No-no-no-no- Ursa’s going to hate me, tear me to shreds-

           My face paled, eyes unable to stop staring at how Aang stepped back into the room, his lips moving as he spoke. It was as if everything was happening in slow-motion. Aang opening the door wide with a smile, the commotion of outside out of mind.

           All I could focus on was the rush of red that entered.

           My nails dug into my thighs, wincing at the impending fury Ursa was undoubtedly about to unleash upon me. It’s my fault, my fault-

           “Where is she?” Ursa gasped, urgency lingering in her words. Her voice sounded winded like she ran here with all her might. My eyes widen, hearing her, unable to utter a word as I studied Ursa. She looked frightened, her face white, body quivering.

           I’ve never seen Ursa look anything less than put-together, the definition of royalty and beauty.

           She was a kind woman, with a sassy tongue, two qualities that the people in the kingdom adored. It didn’t take long for me to realize that Ursa was the definition of strongminded, something I revered – and one could easily find such a trait in Zuko. His will was something that both drove me up the wall and admired.

           But the look that decorated her face – it wasn’t the typical appearance she maintained. It was different, a sight I’ve never seen before.

           Her lavish ruby robes were wrinkled, her raven coloured-hair slipping from the golden pins that kept her hair tidy. She frantically scanned every inch of the bedroom in a matter of seconds, and the moment her vibrant eyes fell over me, her shoulders slumped, a choked sob leaving her lips.

           “You’re okay!”

           Everything happened so fast.

           She threw her arms in the air, tossing herself at me, and the sweet scent of flowers flooded my scenes. My body weakened in her arms, letting myself tumble into her embrace. The overwhelming sense of familiarity had me flushing, something I thought I would never experience again – a mother’s hug.

           “You’re okay. My child is okay.” Ursa repeated like a song, hands running up and down my back, making sure I was indeed real and not a figment of her imagination. Her gestures were dramatic, yet without a second thought, my arms enveloped her – how I missed this.

           “I’m so sorry, Ursa. It’s my fault; the tea was for me-”

           “Don’t blame yourself for the actions of others. You’re safe, and Zuko’s safe, and that’s all that matters.” She happily blubbered, and I could feel my heart flutter.

           The cheerfulness in her tone, squeezing the life out of me as she planted kisses all over my forehead. How many times have I seen Ursa do the same with Kiyi? Even with Zuko, much to his dismay. But the feeling of her peppering quick, chaste kisses all over my face had me rosy – a gesture bursting with the purest form of love.

           “If Zuko doesn’t propose to you the moment he gets better, I’m going to kill that boy.” She muttered under her breath, and I smiled through tears; tears, I had no clue I was even shedding. “I wish I could’ve been better for Zuko, done more for him, Ursa. I’m sorry-”

           “You don’t know, my child…you don’t know how much you’ve changed him. You saved him in more ways than one.” She droned into my ear, feeling her lips tugging upwards the whole time.

           I spotted the way Aang beamed from a distance, that signature smile of his painting his face as he shot me a thumbs-up. His mouth was moving the whole time soundlessly, a prideful ‘told you so’ lingering under his breath.

           “Lady Ursa, Zuko is currently in the infirmary, you can go visit him with Ying Yue. He’s sleeping, but I know he’ll love your support…” Aang proposed, and Ursa pulled back, nodding eagerly. “Thank you, Avatar Aang. That sounds like a wonderful plan.” she hummed while cleaning up my appearance.

           Ursa brushed the black strands of hair that kept falling in front of my face, tugging at a few tangles before straightening out the nightwear I wore. Ursa’s pink lips puckered towards the end, her eyes scanning my body up and down before clasping over my cheeks, “You’re running a fever, my dear.”  

           I was running a fever?

           Aang frowned hearing those words leave Ursa, scratching his beard as he walked forward, “It seems you pushed yourself by bending, Yue. We should get your chi checked by Katara-”

           “I’m fine- I promise.” I stammered, fingers twisting. The last thing I wanted was to be a bother when people should prioritize Zuko. I already caused so much trouble- “Oh, I swear, there are many things you can learn from Zuko, but stubbornness will not be one of them.” Ursa grumbled under her breath, and I coloured.

           “I promise, Ursa, I feel fine, just tired.” I lied, trying to make my speech chirpy with each word. My body ached the more I focused, head throbbing, and I knew it was because of the bending I just unleashed.

           I reached my limit, pushed myself too far…but what choice did I have? Between my bending or Zuko – the answer was clear. It’s just a matter of accepting the consequences.

           Bloodbending wasn’t a skill for the weak; it took years of practicing with Mom, healing animals before people. Even Mom got tired at the end of a busy day of treating so many people, Dad sometimes picking her up and tucking her into bed.

           “This isn’t up for discussion, Ying Yue. If you’re not the slightest bit well, we’ll never hear the end of it from Zuko when he arises.”

           “I promise, Ursa! There’s no need to cause a fuss over me.” I exclaimed, and Ursa simply rolled her eyes with a tongue-in-cheek smile. “Tell that to Zuko.”

           “Ursa-” I pouted, but before I could continue, Aang spoke.

           “Umm…my apologizes but-uhh-”

           Both of us turned to face Aang, whose brows were pinched together, a frown of concentration on his face. His hands were outstretched along the door, focusing. What was he doing? It was like he was trying to pick up on something. What could have Aang so bothered?

           “Aang…” I voiced, scared to startle him out of his stance of awareness, “What’s wrong?”

           “I don’t know, but I think someone is coming-no; people are coming.” He alleged, uncertainty lingering in his tone.

           But boy was Aang right about people.

           The ground felt like it was vibrating once he pointed it out, the sound of heavy footsteps moving together, getting louder and louder – like a swarm of bees. How did we not notice before? We were all so caught up in the moment, expressing ourselves that we failed to take in the obvious.

           Ursa frowned, my hands slipping from her grasp as she studied the door.

           “They’re here-” Aang warned, and once again, the sound of knocking resonated in the bedroom.

           Heavy and harsh – three solid knocks. With much hesitance, Aang stretched forward, opening the door wide, and I saw the way his face twisted to that of a stern expression. Could it be who I think-

           “Council.”

           “Avatar Aang. We’re here to speak with Imperial Consort, Ying Yue if you please.”

           Aang moved aside, tilting his head towards me, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. I gulped, staggered by the hefty sound of their footsteps entering the room – a room that was vast in size, suddenly feeling small with the number of people inside.

           Eleven people stood, some young, some old – but I recognized most of their faces from my debut. There were so many people I had met; it was only a matter of time faces began combining, names forgotten, despite Zuko quizzing throughout the day.

           And while they were most certainly not dressed as majestic as that day, they maintained an appearance of high-status, hair orderly, hands in front of themselves as their eyes settled upon me. I couldn’t help but feel self-conscious, understanding how I appeared.

           Despite Ursa’s effort to clean up my appearance, I knew I was less than presentable. If I felt like poop before, now I feel even worse. But it was the two elders that stood upfront that had me rising from the comforts of my bed, their presence reminding me of Zuko’s.

           Both elders had grey hair, the woman’s hair kept in a bun while the man beside her had his partly up, similar to Zuko’s go-to hairstyle for a casual workday. But the look on the man’s face, eyes tapered as he scowled. There was a wave of unspoken anger in his expression, noting that his knuckles were white from his fingers pressing against his skin.

           “Imperial Consort Ying Yue.” He said, no, more so hissed.

           The way my title slipped from his thin lips – as if it were a struggle for him to utter those words. Zuko said that four people voted against me. I fired one of them, so could this mean-

           “H-how may I be of service, council?” I spoke carefully, my voice cracking from bawling minutes ago with Aang and Ursa.

           The man merely huffed, chest-puffing hearing my voice. The display of discontentment caused the shiny emblem that decorated his arm to glisten under the sunlight that seeped into the room. Reluctantly, he cleared his throat, getting to the point of their visit.

           “As per Fire Lord Zuko’s wish and via Fire Nation customs, should he be unable to rule, power shall temporarily fall into your hands until he is well enough to assume his role. This ruling applies immediately.”

           Shit. How did I let such a fact slip my mind-

           “You are expected to be in a meeting within the hour. I hope you are well-versed and educated in such political matters. It would be a shame for you to make a fool of yourself during a time like this.” He snickered. Embarrass myself? He thinks that because Zuko isn’t with me that he can just walk all over me-

           “My son is hurt. My future daughter in law, the future Queen, should be spending her time with him, not in some meeting that can be postponed-” Ursa voiced furiously, but the man rose his hand, shutting her up completely.

           “With all due respect, you have no authority here, Lady Ursa.”

           “But I do, and I expect you to treat Fire Lord Zuko’s mother with as much respect as you do towards him.” I demanded, channelling my inner Toph as I marched forward. My arm outstretched before Ursa as if it could protect her from the complete and utter disrespect this man was demonstrating.

           I saw Aang’s breath hitch, sensing the pressure rising in the room, moving towards our side. The man’s eyes narrowed before bitterly kissing his teeth, forcing the fakest smile I have seen to date, and at that moment, it hit me.

           I do know him; he was with the man from the other day. He was one of the people who greeted us, although greet would be a bit of a stretch, when we arrived from Ember Island. He was there when I dismissed the councilmember; he’s one of the people who voted against me.

           “My apologies, Lady Ursa.” He spat, and I glared, my guard, rising. I can’t trust him.

           “I’ll be ready in an hour. See you at said meeting.”

           He merely nodded.

           Not bothering to show any more respect than necessary, he gave me a poor excuse of a bow, before twisting his body. Parading his way out, the others followed suit, an uncomfortable silence falling over them as they shared conflicting glances amongst each other.

           Yet as everyone trailed behind, one by one, the room growing spacious, the older woman who stayed by his side the whole time stood still. She bore a soft smile, a smile of comfort. The wrinkles that decorated her face were prominent, her eyes glistening under the lighting.

           “I wish for a speedy recovery for Fire Lord Zuko, Imperial Consort.” She sang as the room emptied to no one else but us. Her tone was light, reminding me of Aang in many ways. I saw Ursa’s body lax from behind me, shooting the lady a smile – they knew each other.

           “Thank you, umm…” I drew, pitch dropping, realizing I was ignorant of her name.

           “Ming. I never got a chance to introduce myself during your party.” She voiced gently, but the way she gazed at me. It was like she was reminiscing. As if she saw something that I didn’t - knew something about me, but not something necessarily bad.

           Who was she really? Why do I feel like I should know her?

           “Councilmember, Ming. I’ll see you soon; it’s a pleasure to meet you.” I spoke cautiously, unable to push the feeling away that she was important somehow. I wonder if she was on proper terms with Zuko? Her aura, it was unlike the man who was speaking before. It was like she was happy to see me.

           “The pleasure is all mine, Imperial Consort. Until soon.”

           She slowly left the room, and Ursa huffed inwardly as soon as we heard the delicate clicking sound of the door shutting.

           “I can’t believe the audacity of some of these councilmembers, insisting on meetings at a time like this.” Ursa fumed, patting down her dress in tune with her rant. The slaps against her dress were rough, slapping the wrinkles out of her gown – but also her growing frustrations.

           I saw the way her lips pressed tight, eyes watery as she raged, “We should be more concerned about who tried to hurt Zuko and you, not this.”

           Every word she spoke, her hands were starting to shake; it was like the reality that her son was currently unconscious was hitting her. Aang glowered, sensing the crabbiness coursing through Ursa. She’s worried about Zuko, the genuine fear of a mother unable to protect her son.

           She felt helpless, and I couldn’t help but relate to her on so many levels. Helplessness, uselessness – feelings that kept bubbling up from time to time, especially now.

           “We have people looking into the case, Lady Ursa. We’re going to get to the bottom of this.” Aang reassured, talking to her as evenly as possible. Ursa sighed in defeat, nodding along because while she knew Aang was right, that didn’t change the fact that she was facing a whirlwind of emotions.

           “I just don’t understand why Iroh can’t take Ying Yue’s position. This must be such a difficult time for you, and they were completely unsympathetic to the whole situation.” Ursa puffed, and I didn’t even realize what I was doing until I saw Ursa’s expression change.

           My hand fell over her shoulder, shooting her a small smile as I squeezed her shoulder. “I’m fine, Ursa. I made a vow to this nation, to Zuko, and I don’t plan on breaking that. It’s the least I could do for him…”

           “Yue…” Aang whispered, knowing very well what I meant by my works.

           The truth was that Zuko was unconscious because of me.

           I was beyond selfish to think that I deserved him; that someone like me, a low-life Bloodbender, deserved the happiness that I experienced from these past months with him.

           Zuko almost died because of me, because of my inability to accept the fact that I didn’t deserve him – that he deserved better. I can’t sit around and do nothing anymore. The least I could do is make Zuko proud, be the Queen he always thought I could be – even for a moment.

           “I can do this…I have to do this.” I mumbled under my breath, pushing back my self-destructive thoughts.

           Now was not the time to cry, nor to worry about the what-ifs of us. There were thousands upon thousands of people depending on me at the moment until Zuko can get back on his feet. I didn’t spend countless hours reading and studying for fun.

           Ursa smiled, her hand raising to caress my cheek. “I think I know what Zuko means when he says you have the spirit of a Firebender,” Ursa whispered, and I let out a small laugh.

           “I’m no Firebender, Ursa.”

           “You’re right; you’re even better. You’re a Queen, Ying Yue, Zuko’s Queen.”

           I can only try.

             “Are you sure, Yue? I can go into that meeting with you.” Aang insisted, matching my haste pace as we travelled through the long corridors.

           The sound of my heels clicking against the marble flooring, high-pitch ticks bouncing off the walls were crystal clear. A considerable contrast to Aang’s feather-like footsteps. Our pace was in sync with my pounding heart, head in pain as I struggled to focus on my steps. My trembling hands, fidgeting with the pins that decorated my hair, didn’t help.

           All the things that could go wrong in this meeting – where do I even start? I’ve never done a meeting this grand with Zuko by my side, let alone by myself. I wasn’t ready for something like this, not to this scale.

           Sure, I did meetings back at the Southern Water Tribe, but this was completely different. The sessions there were calm and lax – jokes and smiles present at all times. And Zuko never got a chance to teach me the current plans or developments he was working on because I was sick, I’m out of the loop entirely.

           My breathing quickened.

           Chest tightening, each breath a struggle.

           I can’t do this; I’m not ready. What was I thinking-

           ‘Just breathe, follow my lead’ I recalled Zuko whispering in my ear, his voice like dark chocolate. There was always a huskiness in Zuko’s tone, a raspiness that had me swooning, or in this case, giving me a sense of security. ‘That’s it, babe, slow and steady’ – I found my eyes fluttering shut, hands falling over my chest.

           The memory was vivid, his arms wrapped around my waist, chin resting on my shoulder. The way his chest rises and falls on my back whenever we embrace, greedily trying to recall every single moment in time where he hugged me. Completely engulfed by his presence, his firewood scent, warm touch.

           You always know what to say, Zuko, I want you here so bad.

           “Yue?” Aang worried, his hand resting over my shoulder, and I froze. We stopped walking, and I reddened realizing what I was doing. “S-sorry, Aang-”

           “Yue, you’re flushed. Ursa was right about your fever; you're burning up.” Aang sighed, letting his touch drop back to his side. I pressed a smile, fingers coiling in front of me as I tried to even out my breathing. “I don’t have a choice, Aang; I have to do this.”

           “No, you don’t. This isn’t right, Yue- we both know that. You’re not well, you pushed yourself, and the last thing we need is you passing out.”

           “Aang, this is my duty. I made a vow to Zuko. This is the least I could do for him. He depends on me for this.”

           Aang blew out exasperated, and for the first time in a while, I saw a look of pure fatigue sweeping. His shoulders were tense, gripping onto his staff, his hands turning white. He’s frustrated, not with me – but with everything.

           “Aang…” I whispered, letting my hand rest over his suffocating clutch. It was like he realized then how passionately he was grasping onto his staff, almost stopping his blood flow completely. “It’s only until Zuko gets better. After that, I’ll rest, I promise. But I need to do this.”

           “This isn’t fair, Yue. Why can’t you just be happy?”

           Happy. I shrugged my shoulders, “Because monsters don’t deserve to be happy, Aang.”

           “Yue-”

           “Imperial Consort Ying Yue! We wish Fire Lord Zuko a speedy recovery from his cold.” A bunch of maids chirped, causing me to pull back from Aang.

           My head whipped to the sound of their cheery voices, noticing all the huge smiles on their faces, the sunlight from the windows casting a heavenly glow around them. Cold- “T-thank you for your support.” I stuttered.

           Am I missing something?

           The maids giggled, nodding before bowing, “Take care of yourself as well, Imperial Consort, good day!” My mouth opened, to wish them a great day as well, but no sound left. What just happened…?

           “I forgot to tell you,” Aang muttered from behind, causing me to turn on my heel.

           I rose a brow, crossing my arms as I leaned forward. “Forgot to tell me what, Aang?” I asked, and I saw the way Aang’s gaze shifted back and forth as if he was fearful of other people eavesdropping. He linked his arm with mine, strolling towards the throne room up ahead.

           “Sokka said it would be better if we keep this assassination attempt under wraps.” Aang hushed, leaning towards my figure unsuspiciously. I tried to control my expression, hiding my look of surprise. That was not what I was expecting to hear.

           “You mean lie to the kingdom?”

           “We have to, Yue. If the kingdom finds out that someone tried to poison either you or Zuko, it’ll cause chaos. We need answers, and we can get those if the people who tried the assassination think they failed, which they did.”

           “So, everyone thinks Zuko has a cold.”

           “And I brought Katara here as a healer-”

           Brilliant, absolutely brilliant. Sokka, you genius.

           I shook my head, noticing the grand doors at the end of the hallway as clear as day. Two guards stood at their post, holding on to their weapons, still as a statue. The throne room. My teeth dug into my lips, fighting to urge to turn on my heel and run back into the securities of my bed.

           But a dry cough that echoed down the hallway had me squinting. The same grumpy councilmember from this morning was standing in front of the throne room, near the doors and just out of sight.

           His arms were crossed, a bitter smile on his face as he stared down at us.

           A cold chill ran up my spine, watching the way he held his head high.

           But, just like that, he turned on his heel, entering the room. Why does it feel like everyone hates me in this kingdom?

           “I can go into that meeting with you, Yue.” Aang mumbled into my ear, and I sighed. “I’m fine, Aang. It’s just a meeting, what’s the worse that can happen?”

           Aang frowned, leaning against his staff with a raised brow – as if I was really asking such a stupid question. “A lot. There’s a reason why Zuko didn’t want you to get involved. Even with most of the councilmembers hand-picked by him, there are still a few who he’s itching to dismiss; he just can’t without a proper reason. You managed to get rid of one.”

           “Only three more to go.”

           “Be careful, Yue. That’s all I ask.” I nodded, sharing a soundless stare. Aang bowed his head, and I took a deep breath – a mutual understanding.

           Let’s do this.  

           I patted my dress down, shaking out any creases in the gown I wore. I didn’t even have time to admire the beauty of the fabric, too anxious to appreciate the exquisiteness. With much reluctance, I turned my back to Aang, slowly inching my way to the throne room.

           Straight into the lion’s den.

           The doors appeared grander as I walked down the empty hallways alone  – taking in the deep coloured wood, floor to ceiling in height, an entrance fit for giants.

           Through the light that shined through the windows, I spotted the stunning decals carved into the doors. Swirls, mimicking those of flames, etched with unbelievable accuracy. They reminded me of Zuko’s flames; controlled and restrained.

           But whenever Zuko did let loose, letting his flames run wild like that one time during the rainstorm, it was breathtaking. My hand began delicately falling over the woodwork, the closest I would get to touching Zuko’s flames without burning myself ironically.

           “Do you wish to enter?” A guard from the side spoke.

           Taking a deep breath, I nodded, unable to delay the inevitable any longer.

           The doors moaned loudly as the guards pushed the doors, allowing me to step into the great abyss. I found myself speechless, realizing that this was the first time I ever entered the Throne room. The last time this room was used was during Kayto’s visit.

           Gosh, what a sight.

           Long, endless lines of pillars adorned the space, reaching the ceiling, and it felt like beyond.

           Each post was decorated to the spirits, carved dragons flying up the posts in a spectacular dance. It felt mystical, like a depiction straight from a children's tale. The amount of time and effort that must have been given to creating such masterpieces was unfathomable. How long did it take to build this room?

           Candles lit up the space through low-hung chandeliers and candle stands, the room omitting a dark-yellow hue. The fact that this was practically a fire hazard in the making out of mind by the utter beauty of the place. But my attention fell over the sizeable dark-coloured table positioned in the center of the room.

           There sat eleven councilmembers, their eyes glued to me as I unhurriedly entered. All their faces were stern, the flickering candles casting eerie shadows over their features. And suddenly, the magic of the room started fading, the sick feeling in my stomach returning.

           “You’re late, Imperial Consort Ying Yue.” A voice boomed, a man standing from his seat at the table.

           I frowned, tilting my head at the sound of his voice, realizing who it was – this grump again.

           “Due pardon, but if I do recall, the meeting starts in an hour. I am early, fifteen minutes, in fact.” I clarified, and the councilmembers all stripped their gazes from me, staring at the table at which they sat.

           “Did you not receive the notice of time change? The meeting was due to start fifteen minutes ago.” The man shot back, and I found myself trembling. The way the room was designed seemed to draw out every single noise – his cantankerous tone hitting me from all sides.

           He set me up – he wanted me to look bad for coming late. There wasn’t a single maid looking for me, telling me about the change of time. My mouth opened and closed before swallowing my pride.

           Don’t argue with him, Yue.

           He wants you to mess up – reasons as to why you shouldn’t be with Zuko.

            “Apologizes, it seems the message failed to be relayed to me,” I spoke, each word forced because I knew the truth. The rest of the councilmember’s eyes narrowed, hearing my apology, but not in reaction to me, but to the man who spoke. They didn’t like him either; it seems.

           “No need to apologize, Imperial Consort Ying Yue. Please, take a seat at the head table.” A honied voice spoke, Ming. She stood from her seat, her back straight while bowing her head. I followed her gesture, her small hands pointing to the space at the far end of the table.

           How did I not notice that before?

           Unlike the others who sat in their seat at the table, this was a platform. Three steps above the ground, at the head of the table, a golden throne lined with luxurious rogue fabric. Hesitatingly, I walked forward, eyeing the set-up.

           The Fire Lord’s seat – Zuko’s throne.

           The style alone was undoubtedly not Zuko’s, much too gaudy, but this must have been passed down from generation to generation. Could I even sit in this place? Is this appropriate? Sure, I’m in power at the moment, but I’m not the official ruler, just a placeholder.

           “Is there an issue, Imperial Consort?” Ming questioned, her voice sounding distant. How big is this table, this room? I let out a timid smile, shaking my head. “Nothing at all, it’s perfect.” Ming smiled at my words, urging me to take a seat. As if she was letting me know that it was okay.

           I tried to lax my body, hands balling up the fabric of my dress before collapsing into the throne. It felt like clouds, the chair beyond comfy, and it gave me a clear view of everyone before me, too clear.

           The sensation of being high-up, towering above all, felt foreign, not settling well in the slightest. Towering above everyone else like I was some godly figure, all alone. Is this why Zuko doesn’t conduct meetings here? It felt isolating, almost dictating.

           Zuko was confident, too confident; he didn’t need to sit high up in a throne to command power. People just had to hear Zuko speak; his actions and work ethic alone were enough to secure his right as Fire Lord.

           Having everyone's eyes looking up at me had me feeling self-conscious, fingers playing with my dress, and that’s when I noticed the tidy pile of documents off to the side, ‘Fire Lord.’

           “The documents you see there will assist you in today’s meeting.” Ming smiled, already taking her seat once again. I nodded, reaching forward.

           I opened the folder, eyes briefly scanning its contents - schooling.

           My brows pinched together, flipping through the papers swiftly, not at all expecting to see this topic come in play today. It was all about budgets and funding for upcoming schools around the Fire Nation. The possibility of new educational institutions, finances, job increases for the general public.

           Zuko was trying to build more schools for children. Decrease the student to teacher ratio to provide a more personalized education. I had no clue Zuko was working on this-

           “Let us get straight to the point.” A councilmember coughed, my head snapping upwards to gaze over them all. My new found enemy let his hands rest on the table, palms down as if he were trying to control his composure.

           “We’re here to discuss the funding for the new schools set to be built within the year.” A councilmember rose their hand, gazing at me before speaking, “For what reasons? We have already established and approved all their placements.”

           The man merely rolled his eyes, tapping the table impatiently, “We discussed placement, but not funding. The funding that we have discussed is not enough for certain zones. Let us examine Ember Island – the funding for schooling should not be less than that of Black Cliffs.”

           I frowned, eyes darting back to the front of the document.

           A simple map was drawn, and sure enough, all the schools that had been approved were drawn on the map in red. Black Cliffs…its in the middle of nowhere…why would he want less funding if that funding is critical-

           “I disagree. Black Cliffs is in a remote area; they require more funding and a larger space since it is expected that these two villages will use this school until another one is built in the future. Ember Island already has three established schools, the new school being built is merely an expansion.” I reasoned.

           Thank you, Zuko.

           It was moments like these; I was thankful for Zuko’s complete and utter control-freak tendencies. His pretty handwriting was clear to read, the tiny notes he made off to the sides of each document helpful. I never got a chance to look at these papers beforehand like I had planned originally. He had to go and change the time of this damn meeting.

           “Nonsense. Ember Island and other cities need an increase in funding.” He insisted.

           “And why’s that?” I huffed.

           His eyes met mine, shooting me a glare. “If it was not clear in the notes in your pile, it is not unusual for high-status locations to have greater funding compared to low-class villages.”

           The language of this man. “I highly doubt that.” I started, but he pointed at the papers in my hands, “Look, Imperial Consort.” My eyes fell back onto the documents, rapidly flipping through papers.

           Contract approvals, estimated government costs for building, funding- what?

           My mouth dropped, fingers running along with the black ink, Zuko’s signature.

           The documents were older; previous educational establishments built within two years. Each city that was known to cater to high-ranking socialites gained more money for their public schools. But Zuko wouldn’t do something like that; he would never give more money to the rich.

           Yet the handwriting at the bottom, his seal of approval. Zuko agreed to this. He gave more funding to already prosperous areas in previous years.

           Why would you do that-

           “Well, Imperial Consort – did you find your proof?” The man snickered, a sinister grin on his face the whole time. He knew that I found what he wanted me to see, leaning back in his chair smugly with raised brows.

           I swallowed, nodding as I studied the paperwork.

           The gut feeling in my stomach, my mind screaming at me that this was wrong, wouldn’t go away. Zuko wouldn’t do that- he wouldn’t do this.

           “Good. We can end this meeting swiftly then. Just sign this paper here – you approving an increase of funding for these cities, and we can be dismissed.” The man smirked, waving the ivory coloured paper in the air. The other councilmembers gazed at each other in horror, shaking their heads.

           “Impossible. Fire Lord Zuko never approved of such means; he overruled Fire Lord Ozai’s school curriculum and funding process for reasons.” A woman shouted, slamming her hands.

           The man sneered at her, chinning towards me, “It seems like Fire Lord Zuko had a change of heart after all. He understands the importance of the high-ranking people of this Nation, not these filthy low-lives.”

           My hands started getting sweaty, watching the way the councilmembers began bickering with each other. They were at the edge of their seats, dropping formalities as they rose their voices. Zuko wouldn’t do that to children, gosh he had a hard exterior, but he wasn’t heartless.

           “I wish to see these documents! He would never approve!”

           “But if Imperial Consort found his signature approving of the funding in previous years…”

           “There will be an uproar from these villages. They are important, our main source of food. If they learn that we cut their funding and gave it to developed cities-”

           “Nonsense, they should know better than to revolt. Now hurry up and sign the papers!” The man shouted, slamming his hand against the table, the paper wrinkling under his grasp. The slamming of the documents reverberated in the room – bouncing off the walls and had everyone shutting up.

           His face was red, his eyes not wavering from my own, “Sign. The. Document.”

           “This needs to be deliberated in more depth-” I insisted. Gosh, Zuko wouldn’t do this, he wouldn’t approve of this. He wouldn’t do this-

           “Nothing more has to be discussed, just approve it already. If these children do not have a school to attend to by the end of this year, the blame will fall over you for delaying the process, Imperial Consort. Can you live with yourself knowing that you are the reason children will not attend school this year because you could not make a decision?”

           Just sign it Yue – you have your proof. Clearly, Zuko is okay with this.

           But I’m not okay with this.

           But the proof- My fingers fell over the black ink again, where Zuko’s signature laid.

           It was his, I knew his handwriting, down to the way he flicked his wrist or dipped his pen for ink. These papers were proof that he was okay with this, and if he’s okay with this, this leaves me with only one choice-

           “I refuse to approve the funding. I will review the documents, and we can continue this meeting this evening with my final decision.” I spoke, trying to make my voice sound solid. A wave of relief washed over the majority of the council, and I could spot the three individuals who had the opposite reaction, furry etched in their faces.

           “You are wasting time.” The man grumbled, and I heaved a sigh. “Maybe so, but regardless if Fire Lord Zuko approved of this beforehand, I need time to review this information.”

           “You may be Imperial Consort, but you will never earn the respect of a Queen – you are nothing more but a Waterbender playing dress-up.”

           An eerie silence overcame us, and for the tenth time today; I could feel my heart shatter because he was right.

           I don’t deserve to be Queen, nor Zuko’s partner.

              Nothing was going right.

           It was as if the spirits decided that today wasn’t going wrong enough – let’s add more to my plate for their sick amusement.

           My hands ran through my hair in frustration, not caring in the slightest at the fact that the beautifully placed pins tumbled onto the rug underneath me. A string of curse words that would even have Zuko proud flew from my lips.

           Not even Zuko’s level of foul language would match my current state of self-destruction.

           The black ink pooled on the tabletop, some dripping on the red of my dress, like droplets of black blood. “Gosh, just my luck.” I fumed to myself, on the verge of just throwing every single bloody document on this table out the window. How does Zuko do this every day?

           Seeing the piles upon piles of paperwork that littered the floor, the words mashing together like a giant blob. My mind was spinning, face rosy from the stress and this fever that refused to back off for a second.

           I blew loudly, brushing my hair behind my ears before leaning over the study. My arm outstretched, fingers stretching to grasp the bundle of napkins placed off to the side.

           Utterly lost in my thoughts, I failed to take into account the vial of ink I had placed right in front of me, the draping of my sleeves knocking it over.

           My eyes widen, shoulders slumping in utter despair at the clacking sound of the glass vial hitting the wooden table, yet again – spilling the remaining ink.

           “Are you KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW!?” I cried, pulling back hastily, my long-sleeves dragging the ink with it. My voice cracked slightly, raising my tone as high as I did, not expressing such defeat in spirits knows how long.

           I watched helplessly as the ink settled into the natural indents of the wood, thankfully nowhere near the documents from the meeting this morning. And at that exact moment, a knock caught my attention, and I swallowed.

           Who could it possibly be now- Shutting my eyes before taking a deep breath, I bite my lip anxiously. Calm down, Yue. Count to ten.

           One…two…

           five…seven…

           nine…ten.

           “Yes?” I squealed, trying desperately to mask my frustration. The poor soul, on the other end of the door, didn’t need to experience my wrath when they did nothing wrong. I’m just an absolute idiot, that’s the problem.

           The study door jarred slightly at the sound of my voice, and to my shock, a guard popped his head in, free of his helmet. His long wavy hair swayed side to side as he bent over from his waist, up, a worried look on his face.

           “Is everything alright, Imperial Consort-oh, did you spill the ink, again?” He mused, a silly smile popping on the guard’s face almost instantly.

           My face flushed, “…Maybe.”

           The guard didn’t even have to step back outside. He lifted his arm from behind his back, a perfectly folded set of napkins in his grasp. “Fire Lord Zuko always asks me to keep some on hand; he says his Consort is a bit of clutz.” He chuckled, leaving me stunned.

           My mouth opened, ready to protest, but the current flood on the desk, my lap and sleeve filthy had me thinking twice.

           Why do you always have to be right, Zuko?

           “I’m sorry for causing so much trouble,” I whined, my shoulders dropping in fatigue as my hand fell over my face. I rubbed my eyes, fighting back the tears of frustration, before exhaling.

           It was embarrassing.

           Here I am, pretending to act like I have the slightest idea as to what I was doing.

           Acting as if I was totally fit for this role, which I wasn’t.

           The guard let himself in, kicking the door shut behind him with his heel. He walked forward with ease, his boots clicking louder the closer he got. The guard seemed at complete ease as if he has walked inside this room countless times over the years to help clean up ink spills.

           “Don’t be sorry, Imperial Consort. Everyone has those days, even Fire Lord Zuko.”

           I perked up at the mention of Zuko, the guard starting to section out the napkins to clean up the mess. “Fire Lord Zuko wouldn’t spill his ink two times in a row, in less than an hour time,” I mumbled under my breath, and the guard snorted at my statement.

           “Permission to speak freely?” The guard requested, and I tilted my head in surprise, nodding.

           “Please, do not tell him I told you this, but Fire Lord Zuko used to go through six vials a day after his coronation because he kept knocking it over. Six times a day, I would go to the supply room, and bring them to him. I learned after day two to just keep them on me at all times.”

           I laughed under my breath at the story, the guard laughing with me, his armour rumbling with joy recalling those times. He outstretched some napkins towards me, which I grabbed with a smile, the tension in my body easing.

           I could already picture it. Zuko getting all flustered, just like me, trying to clean up his mess just to do the whole process all over again. Six times exact.

            “Thank you…I needed to hear that.” I hummed, letting a towel soak up some of the ink I had just spilled. The guard nodded his head, shooting me a smile, “No problem, you know, Fire Lord Zuko would be proud of how much work you got done. It must be nice for him to know he can take a day off when he’s sick because he has you to trust.”

           I froze, looking at the pile the guard was referring to.

           A few papers were completed, my signature at the bottom of each document with the Fire Nation seal beside. But the papers weren’t anything grand in nature – simple stuff. Stuff I used to do all the time back at the Southern Water Tribe.

           The only difference was over here, there was a lot of more pointless rules and ‘expectations,’ down to the way you cross your t’s and dot your I’s.

           “I highly doubt that…Zuko would’ve finished all this way before lunchtime, and I’m not even close.” I huffed, and the guard shook his head. “You don’t give yourself enough credit, Imperial Consort. He talks about you all the time to me. Says he trust you with his life.”

           “He does?” I shyly questioned, accidentally dropping the napkin into a small puddle of ink, causing little droplets to fly over us. I apologized under my breath, but the guard looked entertained, not bothered in the slightest that black ink now stained his uniform.

           “Of course, in fact…I am a little guilty of taking advantage of it. Whenever he is in a sour mood, I point at you through the window, and he’s back to it.”

           I coloured, recalling Zuko admitting to me he sometimes catches my morning walks with Ursa and Kiyi in the gardens. But if he can see my morning walks, that means he also sees all the times I play with Kiyi out in the gardens, or when I read books to her beneath the cherry blossom trees. Yet he still asks me what I did during the day, listening as I rambled on and on…

           “Imperial Consort, do you wish for me to put these documents away in the reject folder?” The guard interjected, cutting my thoughts in half.

           My eyes narrowed, staring at the paperwork in question. I found myself jumbled. “The-the reject pile?” I repeated, making sure of the words the guards just spoke. He nodded his head, and I found myself stunned, “These papers were from this morning meeting, I need them still.” I spoke, and I noticed the way the guards face twisted in confusion, a look matching mine.

           He opened his mouth, almost afraid to talk, and I stopped wiping the table eagerly, more interested in the thoughts running through his mind

           “You may speak, don’t hold your tongue around me. I don’t bite.” I insisted, and the guard’s shoulders visibly eased, scratching his chin like Sokka or Aang.

           “It’s just that…I don’t see why you have these papers or how you got these. These are all rejected proposals; Fire Lord Zuko just keeps them for reference.”

           Rejects-

           “So, what you are saying is these papers, this funding – was never approved?” I gasped, running around the study to the guards’ side.

           The guard’s eyes widen in surprise, a pink blush coating his cheeks. Undoubtedly, taken aback by the way my hands fell over his arms. I didn’t even notice I did such an action, so caught up in the moment, it was a reflex.

           “N-no, Fire Lord Zuko would never approve of these figures. Taking money from smaller villages, he didn’t spend years fighting with the council to change those policies, just to go back on his promises.”

           That man- he set me up.

           “He-he tricked me. He wanted me to sign those papers.” I whispered under my breath, falling against the study in a state of shock.

           Zuko’s signature on these papers wasn’t for approvals, but his mark of denial.

           I knew Zuko would never approve of this, but the council didn’t think I knew Zuko well enough to know that. They think all I am to Zuko is a royal bedwarmer, that I don't know anything about him – the very thing Mai accused me of.

           “Imperial Consort, did I say something wrong?” the guard worried, his hands hovering over my body, unsure whether to support my resting figure. The poor guy thinks I almost passed out or something from this never-ending fever.

           I laughed under my breath, a wave of relief washing over me, “How can I be mad at someone who just saved me!” I enthused, and the guard looked more confused than ever. He looked around the room, scratching his chin as a low string of ‘uh’ and ‘oh’ left him.

           “I didn’t know you needed saving…I just offered to put away these documents.” The guard awkwardly said, and I rolled my eyes.

           “You don’t get it, this morning, a few members of the council wanted me to increase the funding for certain cities – and they fed me these papers. They tried to convince me that Zuko said okay to this in the past!”

           It was like someone lit a candle in the guard’s head, his eyes widening before he swore under his breath. “I can’t believe it- for years those greedy councilmembers tried to steal money. I’ve heard Fire Lord Zuko complain about this for months. They have this weird philosophy about the survival of the fittest – oppressing the weak and living off their ill-being.” The guard spat, huffing to himself in disgust.

           “They planted false papers to get their way, tried to take advantage of you. I can’t believe it- no wonder Ming told me to keep an eye out for you.”

           “Ming?” I repeated— the older woman from this morning and the meeting, the one with a warm smile. The guard nodded, walking back and forth in the office.

           “Yes, she told me this morning to keep an eye out. That she doesn’t trust some of the councilmembers. She can’t come here herself to help you – it’ll look suspicious on her end. I’ve known her for years; she’s a good woman. She spoke with Fire Lord Zuko a few days ago before he caught this cold, offered her help as well.”

           The warmth that enveloped in my heart, my hands falling over my chest in bliss.

           I knew it-

           I knew Zuko would never do such a thing. He may be a tough cookie, but he was still sweet, and his heart was in the right place. He didn’t spend every waking second in his life to turn against his Nation – his work was his source of pride and honour.

           “I don’t know how they got these papers, Imperial Consort, but you can’t approve of this funding. It goes against Fire Lord Zuko’s whole goal.” The guard pleaded, and I smiled, clasping my hands with his. “Don’t you worry, I never was going to approve of it. But knowing that I was right all along makes things a lot easier for me. Thank you for everything.” I gushed, and the guard nodded, before stifling in a laugh.

           “We still have a mess to clean.”

           “Gosh, I forgot about that…” I muttered under my breath, but a smile still sat on my face.

           A victory.

           Even if small, it was still a win in my books.

           For the first time today, I felt like I could breathe. Actually, enjoy the fresh air that came from the window and appreciate the sun that danced along my skin. I was no longer in a weird trance, entirely out of touch with the world around me.

           “I’ll be back; we let the ink settle into the wood. I think we need some heavy-duty cleaning stuff to help us.” The guard chuckled, and I bashfully nodded, realizing just how grand of a mess I made.

           I let my fingers dab and soak up the excess ink with whatever clean towels were left, the guard letting his used rags rest on the table. His suit jiggled as he lightly jogged towards the office door. He swung it open, but just as he stepped through the doorframe, I noticed the way he jumped back slightly, bowing deeply.

           I pouted, opening my mouth to speak up, but a rush a blue and green caught my eyes.

           “Yue!” The voices cried into my ears, their arms wrapping around my body, squeezing me between them. It took a few seconds to process the embrace, but more importantly, who it was.

           “S-Suki, Katara?” I gasped out in surprise, struggling to breathe between their hug.

           Katara pulled back, running her hands down my face with a large frown. “Ursa was right; you’re heating up. Aang, you should’ve dragged her to me!” She nagged, and right away, a voice of protest popped up from behind her. “I wanted to, but she insisted on working.”

           “Just as stubborn as Zuko.” I heard Toph grumble under her breath, although I failed to spot her, Katara and Suki taking up much of my view.

           “How are you feeling, Yue? You look like shit, no offence.” Suki proclaimed, poking my nose good-humouredly. Even though she wore her thick makeup, I spotted the way her eyes lit up, wrinkles forming around her eyes. That’s right, Aang lied to them. None of them have a single clue as to what I did.

           I swallowed hard, looking back and forth around the room, seeing Sokka and Aang sneak into the room. The door shut behind them, and while they talked and asked questions about my well-being, I couldn’t help but focus on their appearance.

           They all looked drained as if they were put through the wringer. But the look on Katara’s and Sokka’s face took the cake. I hadn’t seen any of them all day, only Katara in the morning when she rushed to Zuko’s side. Dark circles painted their tanned skin, their bright blue eyes not shining as bright as usual.

           I frowned, raising my hand to cup Katara’s face.

           She must have been healing this whole time, trying to help Zuko. If only I could be as great of a healer as Katara- “You look tired, Katara. Are you resting?” I whispered, and she scoffed.

           Her hand gripped mine, pushing it away as she once again pressed the back of her palm against my forehead. “I’m fine, Yue, we’re all fine. But you, not so much. Have you eaten lunch today?” I flushed under her gaze, shaking my head with a silent ‘no.’

           Sokka kissed his teeth, noticing he wandered from behind me, resting his hands on my shoulders. His touch had me wobbling, the weight of his hands on my shoulders feeling heavy. I felt weak – and I realized I was still leaning against the study as a form of support.

           “Princess, you look ill. We can talk later; I think you need to call it quits for today.”

           “Talk to me about what?” I asked, facing Sokka, Katara’s hand dropping from my face. He sighed, looking at the others for approval of some sort. “Sokka, let’s not do this now...” Katara warned, but Toph’s unamused tone triumphed them.

           “It’s about Zuko, Princess.”

           Katara twisted on her heel – anger flashing in her eyes at Toph’s nonchalant talking, but she wasn’t fazed at all. Toph’s blindness proved to work in her favour, already lounging on the office floor, resting her head on her palm, elbow on her knee.

           My heart started pounding, seeing the dark looks on everyone’s faces, “Is Zuko going to be okay? Aang told me he was going to be okay-” I panicked, and Suki quickly wrapped her arms around my shaking body, hushing into my ear.

           “Hey, he’s going to be just fine. It’s nothing bad, we promise.”

           A deep exhale left me, my eyes fluttering shut as I fell against Suki. “I just want him to be okay. That’s it.” I whimpered into her arms, and I felt Sokka rest his hand on my head, petting my hair. “Don’t worry, Princess, we got this. We just wanted to bring you up to speed.”

           “Did you learn anything new?” I questioned, pulling back from Suki’s embrace slightly. She still held me close to her frame, and Katara nodded. “Yue…did you know that Firebenders are resistant to poison?”

           My eyes narrowed, unable to form words. Resistant to poisons? How is that possible? “I-I had no clue-”

           “Me neither, I learned that today with the nurses. But that’s the thing, why try to kill the Fire Lord with poison, the very thing that Firebenders are immune? Sounds counter-intuitive, don’t you think?” I stared, trying to under what they were trying to get at.

           I saw the way Zuko struggled to breathe; he didn’t resist the poison at all. He was dying; I felt him slipping from right beneath my fingers. “I don’t get your point….”

           “Whoever did this was trying to target you, Princess,” Sokka said, and I faced him. “We know that already, Sokka. The tea was meant for me. But what does that have to do with Firebenders and poison? Zuko didn’t look like he was resisting the poison at all. He was gasping and struggling and-”

           Suki gripped my hands, noticing I was shaking, just picturing Zuko again. The mental image of Zuko in pain forever etched into my mind.

           “Exactly, Yue. Zuko wasn’t resisting the poison at first, and that got me curious.” Katara budded in, turning to face Aang. He walked forward, searching into his robe, before pulling out a tiny red pouch.

           “How is it possible, that Zuko, a powerful Firebender, almost died from poison, when Firebenders are supposedly resistant?” Katara spoke, taking the bag and tugging the strings. The contents of the pack fell into her palm, grounded bits of herbs, scattering her palm.

           I remember those herbs-

           “That was what was in the tea…” I gasped, and Katara nodded.

           “Zuko’s mom is a master botanist, a fact not too well-known in the kingdom. We asked her to look at these herbs and tell us what it was. And you know what she told us, Yue?” Aang spoke, and I shook my head.

           I loved plants, always wanted to be florist back when I lived in Earth Nation. Have my little flower garden with a family. But I lacked the resources to learn the technicalities of the field, let alone botany. “I-I don’t know…”

           “Ursa said the same thing.” Aang started, poking at the herbs with his pointer finger. “This – isn’t something we know. Someone created this herb, Ursa said it’s called cross-pollination. It’s an advanced technique; not even Ursa is comfortable with it anymore. But whoever did this, did so with the sole purpose of creating a poison so potent that it could kill a person in seconds, or disable a Firebender.”

           “Someone wanted you to die, Princess, and if given a chance, kill Zuko too. A two for one combo.” Toph snorted, blowing upwards and causing her bangs to fly upwards.

           Katara dumped the contents inside the pouch again, passing it back to Aang. “You were their main target, Zuko was just an after-thought.”

           “So, what you’re trying to tell me is the person in question is a botanist?”

           “It seems so, but when we interviewed the gardeners and florists, everyone came back clean. They don’t fit the bill.” Sokka exclaimed, “Suki and I went through every registered gardener and florist assigned to the kingdom, everyone had an alibi.”

           “Does this…does this have something to do with Yakone and Azula?” I whispered. Everyone’s looks darkened, Aang meeting my gaze. “We don’t know for certain...we don’t even know what their goal is besides destroying the United Nations. But if that was the case, wouldn’t it be easier to attack me?”

           Katara visibly tensed, looking back at Aang with a frown, “Don’t say that…”

           “But it’s true; their motives are unclear and-”

           “Sokka.” I budded, cutting off Aang. Everyone perked up at my voice, stepping forward as I paced back and forth. “You said you checked every gardener and florist registered with the kingdom, right,” I questioned, looking straight at Sokka.

           He nodded, watching how I stomped up and down the room. Katara sighed trying to reach forward, “Yue, you need to sit down, you look like you’re going to pass out-”

           “What about Mai?” I blurted.

           The looks on everyone’s faces dropped.

           I stopped pacing, a hand falling over my head the more and more I thought about it. “Mai’s sister, owns a flower shop, right? Zuko said she works for her sister, not for the kingdom. She isn’t a botanist, but she could’ve easily tricked her sister into creating something this deadly.”

           “Yue. I know Mai is Zuko’s ex-girlfriend, and you already think she’s guilty beforehand-” Sokka spoke, and my face turned red.

           “I’m not accusing her of something because she’s Zuko’s ex, Sokka! I’m saying it because we know she’s the snitch, and if we know she’s working with Azula, why would she be innocent of this?”

           Aang took a deep breath, shaking his head as he took a step back. The room was growing in tension, and I didn’t even notice the way Toph stood. “Princess is right. You guys let your personal feelings get in the way – yet again. She’s a prime suspect first, before a friend. She has all the tools, easy access in and out of the kingdom. She would’ve known that Princess gave Kima and Lia the morning off.”

           My face twisted to confusion, stepping forward, “Give Kima and Lia the morning off?” I repeated, and this time they all gazed at me like I was crazy. “I was told that Kima and Lia took the day off because something came up.” I blurted.

           “No…we have paperwork saying you gave them the morning off. You sent a guard with a note; we just asked Kima and Lia a few minutes ago when they arrived-”

           “Imperial Consort Ying Yue did not send me to deliver such a letter.” A voice spoke up, causing us all to jump.

           The guard who was helping me from before was holding some cleaning supplies, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed deeply. “S-sorry for interrupting, but Imperial Consort Ying Yue did not request me to send the letter.”

           “You sent the letter?” I asked, and the guard nodded.

           “Yes, last night, before they left. Countess Mai asked me to deliver that letter to your maids in your place.” His cheeks flushed slightly, uncomfortable by the number of stares he was receiving, but he maintained eye contact with myself.

           “I-I knew about the rumours about you and Countess Mai, b-budding heads, so I was surprised. But she said you two had some afternoon tea and worked your differences. That she will be your aid, as a symbol of goodwill. I’m sorry, what is this all about-”

           “Goodwill, my fucking ass.” I snarled, and just like that, I bolted.

           “Yue~!” Aang shouted, “Where are you going!?”

           “Nobody hurts Zuko and gets away with it.”

           I ignored their cries, shoving past the guard, the cleaning supplies spilling onto the ground. My hand gripped the door handle, swinging the door wide.

           Red, all I saw was red.

           My hands turned into fists, not caring about the stares I was receiving from the guards and servants. My hair was a mess, dress dirty from the ink stains from earlier today. I wasn’t even wearing my heels anymore, opting for a more comfortable footwear the moment I went into the study – proving useful at the moment.

           The gang’s voices seemed distant, as I ran down the red-coloured hallways. The sun was starting to set, blood pumping loudly in my ears.

           Mai.

           How I tried to be friends with you.

           How I tried to think well of you despite all the trash you spoke about me.

           You can hurt me as much as you like, but don’t you dare hurt the people I love.

           I turned the corner, noticing that the rooms of the kingdom were changing. The artwork was less grand, the doors no longer as tall – I’m in the noble’s quarters. A few people dressed in regal clothing stared at me, eyes narrowing in confusion as they saw the way I scanned the area like a madwoman.

           “Is there something you need, Imperial Consort Ying Yue?” a woman asked prudently, her eyes judging my appearance.

           I glared, stepping forward, “Where is Countess Mai.” I hissed.

           Her eyes widened, the people around her looking panicked, hearing my manic tone. She took a step back, her body trembling with fear as she watched the way my fingers twitched with anger. “I-I’ll call for her, um- MAI!”

           A scene started to unfold, more and more people leaving the comforts of their quarters to look at the commotion happening outside. But it was that sound. That bored, mono-toned voice that had chills running up my spine

           “What do you want?” Mai hissed, turning the corner of the hallway, a look of displeasure written on her face. Her cat-like eyes met mine, her figure stilling, and I forced a smile.

           “Your nose healed nicely.” I spat, and without a moment to spare, she ran.

           My knees bent, chasing at full speed.

           The way Mai moved with ease, turning the corner she just came from as I hastily struggled to catch up. The long gown I wore kept slowing me down, the guards reaching out for me hearing my heavy footsteps.

           “Imperial Consort, what are you doing-”

           “Give me this,” I shouted, grabbing the dagger attached to their hips as I ran past them.

           They couldn’t react fast enough, slipping through them like water in a desperate effort to not lose track of Mai. She knew the kingdom better than me, and she was taking full advantage of it.

           Her light-weight but fitted clothing gave her an edge, looking over her shoulder with a glare as she saw I was on her tail. Mai wasn’t stupid; she was a trained fighter – her lean physique and quick steps were the proof.

           I reached down hurriedly, yanking a large chunk of my dress in my hands, slicing the extra material off. The sound of expensive fabric being ripped to shreds would’ve had the royals crying. But the dead fabric dropping from my hands had me sighing in relief.

           My legs felt free, no longer under the tight constraints, or weighted down. Now I can fight. My pace quickened, pushing myself off the wall as she turned another sharp corner.

           “Give up; already, you think you can catch me?” Mai snarled, and my eyes widened. Her hands snuck up her sleeves for a brief moment, before flicking her wrist towards me.

           I gasped, the glistening look of the setting sun reflecting off metal had me darting to the side. I twisted my body and bumped ungracefully against the hallway wall. The feeling of a sharp piece of metal cutting my cheek had me flinching, noticing that Mai stood still for a moment with a broad grin.

           “You don’t know how good that felt.”

           “You poisoned the tea, didn’t you?” I shouted. Mai shrugged her shoulders, “I didn’t do anything. I just gave the tools necessary. That’s all.”

           “You almost killed Zuko.”

           Her eyes narrowed at my words, snickering under her breath, “If he died, it would’ve been your fault. I told you the moment you came here. You made a mistake.” She turned on her heel, picking up the pace, and I huffed.

           I flung myself forward, disregarding the pain that radiated up my body. I can’t go on for much longer; I’m too weak from this morning. But I have to do this- A large red door was at the end of the hallway, and I spotted the way Mai’s hand stretched forward.

           Oh no, you don’t- I twirled the small dagger in my hand, and with a grunt, rocked my arm forward.

           Mai’s fingers grazed the knob before the sound of metal slicing through wood had her swearing. Pieces of timber sparked, splinters flying in the air at the sheer impact of the dagger piercing the exit. Mai flinched, realizing what I had done – the door was jammed.

           “Fuck,” Mai swore under her breath, before jumping on her toes, the look of absolute anger evident. She looked to her side, and with an irritated grunt, dashed towards the only hallway available.

           It’s a dead-end, she’s going to have nowhere to go.

           My pace slowed, almost running into the blocked door, praying that no one was on the other side, because they were going to be stuck in there for a bit. I looked towards the hallway Mai ran down, half expecting her to be throwing a temper tantrum, realizing she has nowhere to go, another part anticipating her to put up a fight.

           But to my absolute horror and confusion - Mai was still running at full speed. My mouth dropped, face paling. It’s a dead-end besides a window, we’re on the second floor; she couldn’t possibly be thinking-

           The sound of glass shattering had people screaming in their rooms.

           It bounced off the wooden floors, tiny pieces flying in the hallway – some even cutting the paintings that hung nearby. The small shards created streams of rainbows throughout the corridor- as I watched in utter awe.

           Mai’s crazy.

           And if Mai weren’t the reason that Zuko was currently in the nurses' station, unconscious, I would’ve saluted her. A part of me had to scoff at the idea of Zuko and her in a relationship. No wonder they didn’t work out – you had two ruthless, stubborn warriors, neither of them willing to submit or show weakness no matter what.

           ‘Too many cooks in the kitchen’ – wise words Iroh.

           I groaned under my breath, forcing my legs to trek forward, flinching as my feet were still sore from the small cuts I received from early in the day. My hands reached out, leaning out the window, the smell of fresh air filling my nostrils.

           Where the fuck could she have gone?

           My eyes desperately scanned the area, the waterfall that Toph just fixed in full view. Glass littered the grass below, servants causing a ruckus about the mess, but I pushed back the random shrieks of shock because I couldn’t find the very thing I wanted.

           Where is she? I turned my head to the side, only to have my body lax for a moment,  a sarcastic laugh leaving my lips.

           This sneaky bitch.

           Mai smirked, realizing that I spotted her, running along the roof before sliding her way down to the garden below. The red shingles on the rooftop shook and dislodged with every step she took, despite her light actions, landing onto the soft grass with ease.

           I looked at the distance between me and the roof. I don’t have the momentum; I won’t make the jump. But…I do have this-

           Taking a deep breath, I raised my hands, feeling the movement of the water from the waterfall.

           The servants quickly adverted their attention from the glass to the low rumbling coming from the waterfall, realizing that the waterfall was no long sprouting water – but coming at full speed towards me. They moved to the side in fear, and I found myself stepping off the window sill, flinging myself over the edge.

           The feeling of weightlessness hit me, still very much swinging my arms above my head in a frantic effort for the water to come to me. Black spots started filling my vision at a higher intensity than ever before, a cold numbness overcoming my senses as my body begged for rest – even for a second.

           I’m using too much chi, but I don’t have much choice at the moment.

           My gestures became more agitated, and right before I hit the ground, my body was immersed by water. Shielding me from the fall, I tightened my hands into fists, the water around me conforming around my body as a thin sheet of ice, rolling along the grass.

           Mai’s eyes widened in astonishment, seeing me jump back to my feet, before making a mad break through the unmarked zone of the gardens. That zone was supposed to be blocked entirely - Zuko saying it was still under renovation at the moment, a summer project of his.

           I swallowed deeply, taking note of how substantial my breathing has gotten. No matter how profound I inhaled, I could feel my lungs screaming for air. I need a breather; I can’t go on for much longer. Hot sweat layered over my skin, body clammy from over-exhaustion, the beating sun not making matters any better. But I need to catch her – I can’t stop now.

           With a deep gulp, I willed myself to push forward through the greenery in search of Mai.

           The sound of grass crunching under our feet, our hands hysterically pushing the overgrown tree branches and bushes to the side as we struggled to see in front of us. The area was dark, the sunlight barely making it past the greenery, the air crisp.

           “Stop running, Mai!” I shouted in a pathetic attempt to stop this mad chase. Just maybe, maybe, she would listen. Spots started to fill my vision once again, the gaps between what was in front of me and the dark spots making it difficult to focus. I bit my lip as a means to center myself.

           I’m running out of time-

           My arm raised in front of me, the sound of metal lodging itself into my ice, stopping dead in my tracks. Ice shreds flattered off my arm at the impact, and I let out a sigh of relief, realizing I got her weapon in time. Her daggers can’t pierce my ice-

           I gasped out in pain, her long fingers yanking my hair from the side and jerking me towards her. It all happened so fast, not even realizing that she was already beside me in seconds, my hair in her grip.

           She pivoted on her heel, using all her force to raise her knee straight into my stomach. My eyes widened, ice melting temporarily at the sheer disbelief of the attack. The pain was unbelievable, a dry heave escaping me as I cried.

           The way Mai moved – it reminds me of Azula so much. And if that’s the case-

           I shrieked in agony as the grip on my locks didn’t loosen, feeling each strand pulling from my scalp, using it as a leash to pull me back towards her for another attack. My feet stumbled forward as I doubled over in pain, watching as she rose her free hand into the air with a dagger in hand.

           “This is your fault.” Mai hissed, and at that moment, I dug my shoulder into her stomach.

           I grabbed her hips with a low grunt, lifting her off her feet and throwing onto the ground. The hold on my hair loosened, the dagger Mai held in her hand, falling onto the grass beside us.

           Her head hit the dirt, with a loud thud, and I swirled my hands around me, sitting on her waist as I pinned her wrists. The water slithered onto her skin, freezing over her hands and solidifying itself with the dirt. Her eyes widen, trying to kick upwards, but the water caught her feet, forcing her back to the ground.

           “I caught you.” I panted in pain, sweat dripping off my forehead as a cold shiver ran up my body.

           My body was shaking, losing focus rapidly as I forced myself to continue bending. The need to have Mai pinned underneath me, unable to move an inch, was the only motivation keeping me alive.

           Mai’s face twisted in anger, struggling against her bonds, “You’re a fucking fool.”

           “Says the one who almost killed her ex-boyfriend after proclaiming that you love him.” I breathlessly criticized, causing her to roll those dark eyes.

           “You don’t get it, do you? The only reason Zuko almost died was because of you.” I narrowed my eyes at her words. Let it go, Yue, don’t entertain her.

           But-

           “What does that mean, Mai.”

           “It means if you want Zuko to be happy, to be safe, you’ll pack up your things and leave.”

           “You just want me out of the picture.”

           “Think whatever you want to. All this started the moment you arrived here. Zuko’s life wasn’t in danger until you showed up.”

           I froze at her words, and Mai laughed bitterly, seeing the expression on my face. Because despite all the bullshit she put me through, she was right. Zuko was safe before I entered the picture – everything seemingly ties back to me somehow.

           Could she-could Mai be telling me the truth?

           “Think about it. All this drama happened because of you. Everything ties back to you being a Bloodbender.” She spat.

           My eyes widened, fingers digging into her skin under the cast of ice wrapped around her joints. But she didn’t seem the slightest bit fazed by the pain.

           “You know nothing, Mai.” I heaved, struggling to keep myself up at this point. My body was screaming in pain, my eyes shutting close as I tried to keep awake. “But I do. That poison, the only way to save him would be through Bloodbending. Aren’t you the tiniest bit curious who Yakone is? Why he’s so interested in you – why he reminds you of your precious Mom?”

           “Shut up.” I cracked, fighting back the tears of frustration. Don’t let her get to you, Yue. She’s trying to mess you up, keep it together. A few more seconds before the gang finds you-

           “Admit it. It all comes down to you. If anyone gets hurt, it’s all your fault.”

           “N-no, I would never hurt the people I love-” I gulped.

           “But you already did. You almost killed Zuko- he would never love you.”

           “Zuko loves me-”

           “Loved you. Zuko would never love a monster like yourself. Not after everything you’ve done.”

           The sound of crackling made my eyes open wide and head twist to the side.

           A blue flash caught my attention, energy sizzling and buzzing loudly through the empty garden space. I saw the movement of fingers through the low-rise tree branches, amber eyes staring back at me. Shit-

           I melted the ice instantly, much to my relief, jumping off Mai as I dodged for cover. The wicked sound of electricity cutting through the air, hitting the trees behind me, setting them ablaze. The heat that emitted from the foliage was intense, my skin feeling sunburned even through my dress.

           “A-Azula.” I gasped in pain, unable to get off the ground.

           Mai effortlessly rolled her body, skipping back onto her feet as she breezed towards Azula. “I’m wet.” She grumbled under her breath, waving her long sleeves to emphasize her point. Azula snorted, at her friends' gesture, flicking her long black hair behind her shoulder.

           “You’re lucky I came to save you. It seemed that this wrench overpowered you.”

           “She got lucky,” Mai groused back, kicking her feet into the dirt in front of her. Her dagger flew into the air, her hand reaching forward and snapping it up effortlessly. “Well, might as well leave then. No point causing any more of a scene than we already have.”

           Mai nodded at Azula’s words.

           I tried to stand up, forcing my feet to move, but my body refused to listen. I can’t let them leave; I need to stop them.

           “Wait-” I whimpered under my breath, trying to reach out. My hands dug into the dirt, driving myself to stand on my feet once again, but my knees buckled, crashing back onto the ground. Azula didn’t bat an eye to my cry, ignoring my weak protest as she twisted on her heel and blended in with her surroundings.

           But I saw the way Mai stilled for a second.

           She gazed over her shoulder with a look that had me holding my breath. For the first time since I met her, she let down her tough exterior, her eyes no longer containing that spark of feistiness. All that was left was a look of sadness, hurt…and pain.

           So much pain.

           I tilted my head to the side, unable to utter a word seeing the expression on her face – and as if Mai realized that she revealing too much of herself to me, a scowl painted her pretty face.

           “Remember, Yue,” Mai whispered breathlessly. “If you really love Zuko – want the best for him. You know what to do.”

           She whipped her gaze away from mine, sprinting off into the greenery around us – and there I sat – forced to bask in Mai’s words in a pile of mud.

           Sitting alone, with nothing but the sounds of trees rustling, birds chirping, flames crackling I found my eyes fluttering shut. An endless pit of loneliness emerging from deep within.

           My fingers dug into the filth as I cried because I knew what I have to do.

              “Does my baby want some attention?”

           “Maybe…” I giggled, smiling naughtily as I let my hands play with the ends of Zuko’s hair. My legs were wrapped perfectly around Zuko’s waist, currently straddling him as he rested on the couch in our bedroom – in his reading corner.

           I could hear the book he was reading shut with a soft thud from behind me, tossing the novel onto the coffee table with all the other stories I stocked. Stories I knew Zuko would love to read during his spare time.

           Feeling his warm hands caress my hips, running up my back before finally falling on my jaw had my skin tingling. Butterflies in my stomach as I enjoyed his tender touches. The whole time Zuko bore a soft smile, his eyes in a dreamy daze as he studied my figure up and down.

           “You’re beautiful, you know that…” he mumbled under his breath, and I blushed at his words.

           He continued letting his fingers roam, thumb brushing my lips, rubbing my cheeks, and I couldn’t help but purr like a kitten. How I loved this. Zuko always took his time, never rushing, each touch, each caress, done with a particular intent.

           I didn’t even notice my eyes had fluttered shut until I heard Zuko’s deep chuckle once again, cheeks turning a dark hue of red. “S-sorry.” I blurted, realizing I was practically leaned into Zuko, our noses touching. But Zuko merely grinned, shaking his head, “You're needy.”

           “Just one kiss?” I pouted, and I saw the way Zuko rolled his eyes – trying his hardest to seem indifferent to the idea. But I still saw the way he licked his lips in delight, his eyes settling over my own.

           “What if I want two kisses, love?” Zuko teased, and I smiled, “Then I’ll give you three.”

           “And if I want four?”

           “Then you’ll get five.”

           “How about…a hundred kisses?”

           “Then you’ll get a hundred and one kisses.” I smugly retorted, and Zuko laughed.

           His chest rumbled underneath me, eyes squinting in delight at my silliness. His laugh was contagious, unable to stop my giggles from tumbling, our cheerfulness mixing.

           I’m so happy-

           “Yue, let me put a bandage on your cheek. It should heal within a day or two.” Katara hummed softly, leaning over my figure with outstretched fingers – pulling me out of my fantasy.

           Her touch was gentle, the stickiness of the bandage causing a slight itch on my skin where it stuck, reminding me of the dressing I had to wear on my jaw for a bit. “Thank you…” I muttered out tiredly, running a hand through my chaotic hair.

           I could hear the ruckus happening outside in the gardens through the opened window, already imagining everyone turning over every single pebble in that garden for any traces or clues. ‘Mai had all her shit packed, she was going to leave tonight,’ Sokka said before leaving Zuko’s study to help the others.

           A tired groan left my lips, rolling my head side to side to ease the tension in my shoulders. My eyes struggled to stay open, wanting nothing more but to slide into my warm bed, Zuko hugging me from behind-

           “Hey, did you ever find out what the Earth King wrote that was so important for Zuko to read?” Katara asked, catching my attention.

           My tired eyes opened a bit more, trying to appear alert as I saw the olive-green document in Katara’s hands. I shook my head, leaning over to take the neatly pre-opened envelope from her touch. Zuko never finished reading this letter; he decided to take me out for dinner instead.

           “I figured you would’ve read it; it seemed urgent,” Katara added.

           “You’re right; I should probably give it a read…” I whispered, letting the paper fall on my lap as I propped against the desk. A silence fell over us, both us trying to wrap our heads around what was happening.

           Mai set up the whole thing, and I saw the way the news hurt the team.

           They all looked wounded, their greatest fears coming alive. They knew Mai was the snitch, but seeing her running away, actually admitting guilt, was rubbing salt in the wound at this point. Why would you do this, Mai?

           Everyone says this is unlike you, yet here you are, doing exactly what you wouldn’t ever do.

           “Um, do you want to visit Zuko?” Katara said again, almost rushed, trying to fill the void with some sound. My body stiffened at the mention of Zuko, looking up at Katara like a lost child.

           “I-I-”

           “You haven’t seen him all day. I know it must be hard for you.”

           “I-It’s fine; I’ll-I’ll visit him tomorrow.” I blurted, shaking my head as I pushed myself off the table. I let my fingers play with the edges of the envelope in my hands, trying to look busy and distract myself from Mai’s haunting words.

           Zuko doesn’t love me anymore…

           She’s just trying to mess with you, Yue.

           But Mai has known Zuko her whole life. She probably knows Zuko better than I will ever. I’m an idiot for thinking that I was actually important-

           “You can visit Zuko now, Yue. I know you want to-”

           “I’m fine, Katara. I-” I stilled, no longer playing with the green folder in my hands to distract myself from my dark thoughts. Feeling the paper slide between my hands, grazing the Earth Nation wax seal jogged a whole new can of worms into my mind.

           My eyes widened, feeling my skin crawl- “Shit, I forgot! I have a meeting!” I gasped.

           My gut dropped, letting out a worn-out whine as I ran a hand through my hair.

           I looked out the window, noticing that the sun was starting to hide behind the tree-line, the moon ready to make an appearance in due time. But that means it must have started already, and now I’m going to be late, again.

           And that grumpy man is going to use that against me and say how useless I am and-

           “Yue. You can’t be serious?” Katara exclaimed, watching me bolt upwards and towards the study. I gave a mental thanks to the guard from early in the day, realizing he cleaned the desk despite me leaving the way I did. I need to thank him-

           “Ying Yue,” Katara growled, her hand yanking my shoulder back.

           I jumped at the aggressive shove, forcing me to face Katara. Her face was warped with fury, watching me as if I had eight heads. “What about Zuko?” Katara breathed, emphasizing each word.

           “What about him, Katara?” I snapped, swinging the documents in my hands into the air. “He’s out cold, because of me. Everything that happened today is because of me. Everything. The reason why Zuko almost died, the reason all this drama is happening, the reason why Zuko is drowning with all this council bullshit every day - it all leads back to me!” I cried in frustration.

           Katara’s face softened immediately, trying to reach forward to cradle me, but I stepped back. “You’re punishing yourself-” Katara realized, and I swallowed back a sob. “No, I’m doing Zuko a favour. He doesn’t want to see me, Katara. How could he after everything I’ve done?” I cried, pushing the folder tightly to my chest.

           Katara shook her head, her own eyes tearing, “Yue, Zuko loves you-”

           “Zuko loved me. Just-just drop it; I need to go.”

           “Yue, forget about the meeting-”

           “I can’t, Katara! It’s the only thing going somewhat right – the only thing I can give to Zuko when he wakes up. The least I could do for him.”

           “Yue-” I walked forward, the office door opening wide as I dashed out of the room.

           I ignored the cries of Katara behind me, blood rushing in my ears as I stormed down the hallway. The documents in my hands were crumbling under my death grip, furiously wiping the tears on my cheeks.

           This is the only thing I could do for Zuko – the only thing I managed to get right.

           The guards up ahead, safeguarding the throne room, saw my approaching figure, looks of disbelief etched into their faces. “Imperial Consort – the meeting was set almost an hour ago-”

           “Are they still in there, waiting?” I asked, and I saw the way the guard took in my appearance, mud stuck in my hair.

           “Y-yes-” they stuttered, and I nodded, “Good.”

           Not bothering to wait for the guards to open the door for me, I stormed inside.

           The doors swung open, slamming against the walls and catching the attention of the council in seconds. They all stood tall, eyes wide as they took in my appearance. “Oh my- Imperial Consort, are you alright?” A councilmember gulped in shock, and I ignored their inquiry, my eyes meeting that asshole.

           His face was stern, kissing his teeth as he studied my figure up and down in disgust. “You’re almost an hour late – and you come in looking like that.” He laughed bitterly; his two stupid minions amused by his joke. The councilmembers all shut their mouths, noticing the annoyance in my posture.

           “How about you take a seat, Imperial Consort?” A member politely suggested, and I shook my head, forcing myself to smile at them.

           “I’m perfectly fine because I plan on making this meeting short. Increase of funding – denied.”

           The man's eyes widen at my statement, crashing his hands on the table. For a moment, I thought he was going to jump over the counter, lunging at my throat. “Bullshit. Why is it denied, you know Fire Lord Zuko approved of the documents previous years, you saw his signature-”

           “No. What I saw was three councilmembers manipulating and falsifying classified documents to trick myself, and the council, to believing that Fire Lord Zuko approved of such funding.”

           The colour drained from their faces, but more importantly, the grumpy man who started all of this.

           His mouth opened and closed, unable to utter a word in response, and the rest of the members looked at them in horror. I raised the papers in the air, tossing them onto the table, seeing the documents glide into messy piles.

           “What’s wrong, you thought that because I’m Imperial Consort that I just have to sleep with Fire Lord Zuko, like some glorified concubine? That I don’t have a backbone? A mind of my own?” I spat, and I saw the bead of sweat build on his brow.

           “Only a concubine would speak with such vulgar language.” He scowled.

           “Maybe so, but it seems to be the only way for your small brain to understand. Which leads me to my next point - you, and your accomplices, will be charged with treason.”

           “Y-you have no evidence-” I rolled my eyes, hands falling over my hips, “You sure about that? Because I currently have eight others who can vouch for me. So, let the real joy of this situation come to light.”

           Out of the corner of my eye, I saw smug smiles on everyone's faces, hearing me put these fools in their place. But more importantly, I noticed that warm smile on Ming’s face, a smile filled with pride.

           My back straightened, holding the Earth Nation document to my chest, “You were so eager to get rid of me. But you will not lose your roles as councilmembers until Fire Lord Zuko comes in power once again. So rather than waking up tomorrow, eager for Fire Lord Zuko to awake – you’re going to wish he doesn’t. Because as long as I’m in this position, you still have your job – you’re going to want me to be in charge from this point on.”

           All the didn’t bother trying to hide their growing grins, watching as three of the most hated members get scolded like school children – stripped of all power and authority.

           I raised my head high, clearing my throat, “Now that’s settled, meetings dismissed.”

           Turning on my heel, trying to look as confident as I possibly could with twigs in my hair, dress ripped in half and covered in mud and ink, I walked out of that room with my chin up. I could hear chairs being pushed back at my words, my lips tugging upwards.

           A few claps could be heard from behind me as I made my way out, and a tired laugh left me. The guards before me amusingly opened the door, sporting prideful grins as the light from the grand hallway flooded my vision.

           And the moment I stepped outside, ready to celebrate my victory – tears streamed down my face.

           I kept on marching forward, my sobs growing in intensity, eyes blood-shot as my shoulders shook every time I tried to hold back another cry. I couldn’t stop it, the way my legs wobbled, a hand covering my mouth to muffle the small whimpers that left my lips as I ran towards my bedroom.

           I hope I made Zuko proud for once.

           I hope that when Zuko wakes up, he smiles at me. I want him to hug me, pepper kisses all over my face, saying how well I did.

           But no matter what.

           Above all things - “I just want to keep you safe, make you happy.” I cried into my hands, “even if its not with me.”

Copyright © 2019 Mystic-Kitten, inc. all rights reserved. No reposting, modifying, or translations of any kind allowed. Thank you for your cooperation.

Disclaimer: I do not own any Avatar characters portrayed in this story besides Ying Yue Jiang, Lia, Kima, and any future creations.

❤ Buy me a coffee? ❤

[alexseanchai]

Fanfic 2020 in Review

I got tagged by @kasienda @noirshitsuji and @marvelousmsmol and I am tagging whoever wants to play!

1) List of fics completed this year in the order they were finished:

*filters own works to complete and updated in 2020*

1 - 20 of 57 Works by AlexSeanchai

nope. *adds filter to include only works of at least 1000 words*

unless otherwise indicated, these are all Miraculous Ladybug:

“don’t bake it lying down”, post-reveal Marichat vs Felix Graham de Vanily

“veracity”, canon divergence from “Ladybug” featuring Mister Bug and Verity Queen (so also Marichat, I guess)

“(no request is too extreme, if) your heart is in your dream”, in which Hawkmoth wins, for the thirty seconds or so before Emilie saves Ladybug and Chat Noir’s lives

“tell me you love me and make me believe it”, in which trans girl Chatonne Noire ropes Ladybug into helping plan her civilian self’s escape slash social transition

“kingmaker, oathbreaker”, in which Hawkmoth wins and Emilie watches her son remove himself from the family

“stay and let me watch you break it down” (Twelve Dancing Princesses), a modern setting

“set a course for winds of fortune”, in which trans girl Chatonne Noire has already escaped and Gabriel and Nathalie are trying to bring Gabriel’s son home

“we ground love in a hopeless place”, in which post-reveal Marinette’s attempt to remain resolutely not in love with her partner dissolves like sugar in coffee when they start a pun war

“ring the bells that still can ring”, in which Alya is deeply confused about why Adrien and Marinette are planning a wedding when last night both were single

“burning wishes at both ends (the cold wind and long loud wail remix)”, in which Gabriel made a monkey’s paw wish and Emilie makes another

“words cannot espresso”, in which Marinette’s OC roommate is justifiably worried for Marinette’s safety, and meanwhile Adrien takes care of Marinette

“the compromise of truth” (the chronologically second-earliest part posted to date of nine lives, snake’s eyes), in which Adrien tells his friends how he won some freedom and respect from his father

“At The Present Time”, the Ladrien/Ladynoir marriage proposal follow-up to @art-deco-shrimp‘s  “Your Presents Required”

“j'ai rêvé (so I don't have to dream alone)”, in which the events of canon must just have been a series of dream sequences, Marinette and Adrien both think, until they both arrive at Chloe’s Halloween masquerade dressed as themselves from the dreams

2) Number of words written:

ahahaha no. I am not counting all my scattered fic drafts and trying to figure out what I did and didn’t write in 2020. I refuse.

AO3 says I posted 162K in 2020. it is counting all of keeps you guessing (like any real love), which (a) I started posting in 2019 (b) is co-written by @galahadwilder​; it is counting all of my meta snippets collection, much of which was written in 2019; it is counting the Vimeo passwords for my vids. but I probably cleared 150K by a safe margin.

3) Your most popular fic:

“veracity” has a four-digit kudos count, wow, when’d that happen? this is also the 2020 work with the most hits and the most bookmarks, but “tell me you love me” has four-thirds as many comments as its nearest competitor.

4) Your personal fav:

“cannot break us, not with a thousand swords”, no question about it. this is the one in which Ladybug proposes marriage to Chat Noir via Princess Bride meme on Tumblr. (if you intend to download the work or otherwise to consume it with creator style off, you want the accessible version instead of the primary version.)

5) Your fav scene:

aaaaaaaaa

—okay so this is cheating and I know it, since Uncertain Humors (the one where Marinette/Adrien is both Orpheus/Eurydice and Theseus/Ariadne) is nowhere near finished, never mind posted (maybe I'll get “Sanguine” done to post on my birthday?)

but it is still my favorite of the year. as you might guess from that description of the story, this scene has content notes for character death:

Hell is a maze. Marinette walks.

This acrid passage has little to see but damp stone, seeming blood-stained in the dim carmine light. At about the height of her heart, the faintly glowing thread cuts through the not-clammy air; it ought to be pulsing at the same rate as the heart it's bound to. She might be able to see her own reflection if she looked down at the open sewage pipe, or at one of the puddles that now and again she splashes through, dampening the canvas of her shoes. She might see reflected what's behind her.

She remembers Mme. Mendeleiev lecturing on human physiology. In healthy humans old enough to have learned how, urination is a voluntary action: one may not know which muscles one tenses and relaxes in order to do so, and probably isn't paying attention to those details when one is doing, but one has conscious control over whether one does. Usually. Stress and anxiety mean some people are unable to relax the relevant sphincter muscle and others are unable to stop themselves. It's voluntary for cats, too: it's one way they mark their territories. Cat-boys have other ways.

There is a moment in every human life when all one's muscles relax at once. Some Parisians have had several such moments.

The thread is braided with itself around her left fourth finger, rows of tiny red half-hitch knots, and falls loosely over the back of her hand to loop twice around her wrist. She holds it wrapped between the fingers of her right hand to keep it at a constant tension, as though knitting with this insubstantial thread, so fragile for something two (two dozen, two million) lives hang from—too thin to sew with, no thicker than one strand of his hair. As she walks, she winds it around and around and around her wrist.

Between her ring finger and her right hand, it loops twice.

Marinette's shoe lands in a puddle she didn't see. The rainwater splashes soundlessly onto her bare ankle and on the stone.

(With cat-like tread, upon our prey we steal— It's a very loud song.)

She walks on.

6) A fic or scene that challenged you:

where the firelight fades, no contest. this is the second story I’ve ever been able to stick with more than a couple hundred words past the 20K mark, but it’s easily the twentieth novel-length I’ve begun. (though also, you know that kedreeva post? well, 90K later, I’m less than 15K from completing this 10K fic! I think.) and I have been learning so much about long-form fiction.

there has also been a lot of weeping and tearing my hair. case in point: I just trashed the chapter 15 draft because I figured out the reason it wasn’t going anywhere! I can probably keep the first few hundred words of that draft without any editing, and another few hundred with some revision...

7) A line of writing you’re proud of:

from “j'ai rêvé (so I don't have to dream alone)”:

Everything about their partnership is fragments of sentences in the dream diary Adrien writes in ultraviolet pen. Disjointed flickers of thought even when examined under the black light he hides in the snack cabinet under packets of Super Yoyo sandwich cookies and bags of cheesy Monster Munch potato chips and boxes of petit écolier butter cookies (chocolat noir)—none of which explains the gym-socks smell. All fleeting incoherent flashes, invisible between the mundane lines of La Modification shelved at his bedside between Leroux and Dumas. None of it is solid. Adrien has more proof his room's haunted.

okay let me break this down for you!

* Adrien started a dream diary to make sense of the memories

* in invisible ink, in a book that (according to Wikipedia) is thematically appropriate and won’t (if Gabriel sees it) look like anything other than Adrien developing an interest in French literature

* shelved between Phantom of the Opera and The Three Musketeers

* look I didn’t come up with the name “black light”

* or “chocolat noir” for what English speakers call “dark chocolate”, or “petit écolier” (that is, “little schoolboy”) for that sort of butter cookie

* also not my fault that “chocolat noir” sounds remarkably like “Chat Noir”, which, attentive readers may have noticed, is not a name that appears in the story after the header and before Miraculous Cure

* I found the website of a store in Boston, Massachusetts that caters to French expats, and the yo-yo cookies and the monster chips were right there in the photos, y’all

* the snack stash and the black light live in the cabinet where, in canon, the Camembert lives; yes, that cheese smells in the real world like gym socks

* this story’s akuma was not able to affect anything but squishy human memory: nobody affected remembers anything about Ladybug or Chat Noir or Hawkmoth, not in any solid way, not even when they read news articles about the subject, and this includes Marinette and Adrien not being able to see or hear or remember their own kwamis—but you know what Adrien’s Insta post about his poltergeist and Adrien’s Insta post with the floating sock don’t show and don’t explicitly refer to?

* I love this paragraph so much (my housemates may have been lovingly mocking me over it)

8) A comment that touched you:

there are people (y’all know who you are) who said y’all are studying my style. I ded of blush.

9) Something that inspired your writing:

by volume of fic drafts that can be blamed on any particular person, the winner is probably @norakwami​

10) Your proudest accomplishment (that one scene; finally finishing that one fic; posting your first fic; etc):

so that longest-story-ever-written record I set in 2007 with the 89.5K story that, till where the firelight fades, was the only story I’d gotten much past 20K?

I broke that fucking record!

and then I deleted the draft of firelight chapter 15 😭

11) Do you have any writing goals for the next year?

I’m starting work on a fantasy novel, a Sleeping Beauty retelling in which I explore (among other things) the economic consequences of the king’s ordering all the spinning wheels burned, and I want to make significant progress on that. and I want to not make my hands any worse; I kind of need those!

(breaking news alert: bodies fucking suck. so does giving yourself repetitive stress injuries in doing one and a half to two people’s worth of work for an organization that was never ever going to pay you more than one person’s worth of pay.)

[kylorengarbagedump]

Little Bird: Chapter 35

Read on AO3. Part 34 here. Part 36 here.

Summary: So, like, at least we're all in a graveyard already?

Words: 3400

Warnings: gratuitous violence... again

Characters: Kylo Ren x Handmaid!Reader

A/N: Another early update? Can't help myself--I've been quarantined myself (I'm usually working all THREE of my jobs lmfao), this week, so I've had a little extra time to write. Sometimes I worry how self-indulgent this fic is, but then I remember that it's for fun and who cares.

Y'all's comments seriously make my life better, and I can't thank you enough for your kind words and for letting me know what you think. It's so encouraging to know people are enjoying my indulgence LMFAO. Please stay safe, and I love you so much! <3

If looks could kill, Kylo Ren’s gaze was genocide.

Like lightning itself, he caught you and dove behind one of the tombs, more bullets pinging off the marble. His face was tight, chin quaking while he shoved your back to the grave, staring into your wound as if it were a canyon. Pain still dulled by adrenaline, you watched him, fighting to focus on your breath--you’d started shaking, too, mind hijacked by shock and terror. You didn’t know how much you were bleeding. You didn’t want to look.

Kylo glanced up--his eyes caught something, or someone--and he turned back to you, swallowing as he snagged the bottom of your nightgown and rended it with bare fists. He shredded a thin strip of cloth from your skirt and lifted your arm, wrapping it above your wound. You whimpered, heaving with panic, but he was quick, his makeshift tourniquet halting the frightened ache as it stymied the bloodflow.

“Is it bad?” you asked.

His gaze flicked beyond you again. “Quiet.”

While crouched, his hand snuck into his jacket, clicking the safety of his gun and cocking the hammer. He stilled, tracking his target--you held your breath--before rising and popping off a single shot. Behind you, a cry of pain, and Kylo lunged, jumping the tomb, stalking through the grass. You spun to watch, clutching your arm to your side.

The gunman had fallen to the ground, groaning as Kylo approached, a hunter seeking his spoils. Though he was meters away, collapsed at the edge of the clearing--perhaps that meant, mercifully, he’d missed the desecration of the dead--you could tell he was wearing an Angel’s uniform. Your Commander snatched the intruder by the helmet and tore it off, wrenching him up, and slammed his skull against a headstone, gun at his head.

“Talk.”

The man wheezed, wriggling in Kylo’s grip, who whacked his temple on the grave, sneering, his self-control whittling by the nanomoment.

“Two seconds.”

“I’m a scout!” He seethed, trying to twist to meet Kylo’s eyes. “I’m a scout, I’m--please don’t kill me--”

Kylo bashed him with the butt of the pistol. “Who.”

“Enric Pryde!” His hands went up in deference. “It’s a bunch of his men coming. They said you’d be here with a Handmaid.” He gasped, shaking his head. “It’s a coup, they want you dead or alive!”

A pause. Your Commander was still, frozen in rage.

“Please, let me go, I’m only a scout, I was told to find you!” The soldier was still turning, pleading for mercy. “I, I mean, personally, I would never try to hurt you, sir, but I saw th-the Handmaid, and I didn’t think you’d, you’d care, she’s just a Handmaid and we were told to kill her anyway--”

Kylo swiveled the man’s head, drove his teeth against the edge of the grave and snarled, stomping his skull into the stone. A sharp crack as his jaw snapped, brain crushed to the granite, limbs limp and eyes bulging from their sockets. Face blank, Kylo ground his heel into the man’s scalp, splintering the bones and spilling blood onto the dirt before throwing the body to the side like trash.

Your hand clapped your mouth, jaw dropped, and he marched over, a silhouette of death in the storm, lodging your heart in your throat. When he reached you, he squatted, examining your arm, raising it in his hand and eliciting a wince while he monitored your movement. His jaw stiffened, his eyes met yours, so furious that the air fled your lungs, and before you could speak, he gathered you and threw you over his shoulder.

“They’re coming,” he said. “Don’t move.”

Trembling, you nodded. “O-okay.”

His body was solid, and you let yourself hang, at first lifting your head to watch your surroundings, then rejecting the neck strain. If this man wasn’t the same one who had just coddled you in the downpour, the same one who’d whispered angel into your ear when he made you cum, you would’ve been horrified, striving to escape. But as he strode forward, and you watched his parents’ gravesite grow distant, you felt like a child--one who, instead of fearing the monster under her bed, had invited him inside of it and sought safety in his embrace.

An intake of breath, he tensed--pop, pop, pop, pop--you screamed, scratching at his back, and he jostled you in his grip.

“Don’t move,” he growled.

You grimaced. “What was that?”

“Vermin.”

He said nothing more, changing course, and when he turned, you saw four bodies piled at the bottom of a hill, swallowed by the grown, wet grass. You exhaled, swaying with him while he crossed to what you knew to be the forest. When you entered the understory, damp leaves flooded your nose, the canopy draping you both in clouded darkness. Thankfully, adrenaline was still coursing through your system--the pain at your arm was numbed, though it felt like a lead weight, and your senses were heightened. The world sharpened in your eyes, storm booming in your ears. Kylo was a predator, moving in long, careful steps, creeping through the trees, muscles rolling like stone underneath you.

Your brain spun, trying to process what you’d heard; you remembered the name Enric from the Council meeting, he’d been that silver-haired sycophant who’d mentioned all of his concerns. Though you’d known Kylo to have enemies in Gilead, you hadn’t realized just how many there were--or how serious they seemed about righting his errors (errors, you noted silently, he’d made for the benefit of you).

The squelch of boots in puddles--he stopped, spun toward the perimeter. Yards away, you heard it too: hushed voices, a group of men squeaking through the plot of tall graves adjacent to the forest. Your pulse quickened, you tapped his back.

“We can just leave them,” you whispered. “We don’t have to--”

With a shrug of his shoulder, he rolled you down his arm and plopped you against a tree, not bothering to offer a glance before he trudged forward, hunched, his pistol gripped in both hands. You shifted, free arm assisting as you scooted around the trunk, your Commander skulking through the shadows, a panther electrified with bloodlust. As he approached, you could count four--no, five men, two posted together, peering around a giant slab decorated with three metal crosses, two behind them, each hiding behind big graves, and one at the back, peeking above a short, fat headstone. They were all Angels in military gear, all armed with bayonet-knife rifles, all whispering in panic.

“Split up. Two of us push forward, other three take the clearing--”

Kylo sidled up to a tree trunk, spying beyond it.

“All of Bravo just got killed in the clearing.”

He swooped low, darting behind another tree, his footfalls muffled by the storm.

“We can’t just stand here, we’re sitting ducks! He could be in the forest right now!”

Thunder rumbled, masking him as he emerged from the woods, bearing down from behind his prey.

“I mean, it’s one guy with one gun, how deadly can he really be?”

That was the Angel closest to you--and now, especially, to Kylo, who was only feet away, back against a tall, engraved dedication, neck craning to analyze.

“You don’t know anything about Commander Ren, do you?”

That same Commander Ren stepped from the stone, pistol pointed at the closest man’s head, at the base of where his helmet met his neck.

“No.” Lightning snapped. “Why?”

Thunder cracked, the muzzle flashed--blood spat the air and the soldier fell, forehead smacking the granite as he crumpled to the ground.

The Angels in front of him spun in a string of curses; at Kylo’s left, the man shot from the hip, but Kylo side-stepped, spinning on his heel with his gun raised--pop, pop. That Angel ducked, tackling the ground, while the one to Kylo’s right ran with a roar, bayonet brandished like a spear. Kylo scowled, caught the barrel in his massive hand, and jerked it up, throwing the man from his feet and slamming him into the muck.

The two from the front had vaulted the big grave; Kylo’s head cocked, and he snarled, plugging each of them with a bullet. One wilted, back breaking when he hit the stone behind him, and the other toppled to his knees, clutching his chest, blood spewing from his mouth. Behind your Commander, the two he’d laid to the ground were standing, stumbling toward him. He leapt the corpse and headstone, wrenched a metal cross from the display, and whirled. The two men stalled, raised their weapons, but Kylo dipped, sneering as he drove his pistol into the mouth of one Angel and the cross’s edge into the throat of the other. A pull of a trigger--brain matter burst through the soldier’s helmet, he dropped; the other quaked, gargling fountains of blood, his carotid cleaved in two.

Spattered in scarlet, Kylo twisted the cross in the man’s neck and shoved him to the mud, failing to see the last Angel, still sputtering, struggling to stand. He wobbled, fumbling for his rifle, his hands slipping on the muddy grip. Forgoing that, he floundered and ran, flinging onto your Commander’s back with a howl. You squealed, covering your mouth--every instinct told you to try and help, every reality kept you chained to the tree. Teeth bared, Kylo wavered, thrashing as he wedged the man’s arm from his neck and pitched forward, throwing him over his shoulders and smashing him into a puddle.

He coughed a fat wad of blood onto Kylo’s face--Kylo seethed, pinned the Angel’s neck with his heel and blew his skull open. The body twitched with death, and Kylo exhaled. He wiped his face with the back of his hand and turned to the forest, marching through the thickets, heading to where he’d left you.

Up close, he smelled of iron, red spackling his face and hair and hands. He squatted and examined your arm again, testing its tension, watching your face for pain. It was a way of checking, you knew, that you could still feel it, that you hadn’t drifted into shock.

A muscle under his nose fluttered. “Say your name.”

You blinked--another test--and said it.

Kylo stood and tossed you over his shoulder, clutching you close while he trekked through the woods and into the graveyard. Though you couldn’t see, you’d remembered how you’d arrived--beyond the valley before him was a handful of mausoleums punctuating the long-neglected cemetery grounds. You could only whimper as he tread forth, the dead-see grass trampled to mud under his terrible stride.

Behind you (and in front of him) you heard the screeching of vehicles. Kylo went rigid, dashing right; it was only split seconds before bullets whizzed by you and you screamed, burying your face in his sopping coat. He spanked you--spanked you?--in admonishment, sliding through the sludge at the back of a vine-entombed mausoleum, only to carry you behind a large, marble headstone. You splashed in the warm rain, and sought his gaze; his eyes were glittering with excitement, his chest swelling. He was as you’d seen him in Snoke’s mansion: an animal crazed, thirsty to kill. You shivered.

Kylo offered only silence when he dumped you behind the grave, lightning shattering the sky--you poked your head above the stone, flinching when your arm throbbed with latent pain. As he slunk to the mausoleum, two Angels rushed the right corner; he ended them both with single shots to the head.

Back pressed to the wall, Kylo waited. To his left, two more soldiers breached his sight--he yanked the rifle around the corner and wrestled its owner to the dirt. The man behind him barreled forth, weapon raised; Kylo surged toward him and clobbered him across the face with his pistol. He seethed--your Commander holstered his own gun, yanked the rifle free from the Angel’s hands, and riddled them both with bullets. They toppled, a bloody pile at his feet.

You felt your wound, at this point, pulsing and hot in your flesh--you thanked whatever power above you was keeping your system pumped full of epinephrine, as you had the sneaking suspicion that once it wore off, hot would fail to begin to describe it. More gunshots, you looked up; an Angel on the right was shooting blind, aiming around the corner of the mausoleum. His bullets went wide, missing Kylo by yards, and Kylo swept forward, jerking the man from the corner and jabbing his bayonet into his throat.

He gurgled, a red waterfall pouring down his neck, the knife abandoned inside as he crumbled to the ground. His partner appeared, stabbing past the wall--Kylo dodged, wrenched the rifle forward and wrangled him into the crook of his elbow. The man yelped, flailed under his strength, and Kylo tugged him back, tearing his weapon from his hands. Two more Angels approached from the right; your Commander flipped the rifle into the air and caught it by the grip, mashing the man’s throat in the headlock. He pivoted, stiff arm pointed over his shoulder, and sprayed hail through their heads--they slumped into the other and tumbled, lifeless, to the ground. Hearing them fall, Kylo curled his long fingers around his current victim’s helmet, gripped it, and snapped his spine; the soldier flopped and Kylo released him with a sigh.

To the right and left, you saw two sets of three men approaching, each taking a side of the mausoleum. Perhaps sensing this, Kylo confiscated another rifle, peered around the side; bullets whizzed by, and he cursed, looking between you and the wall at his back. He leered at you--you knew that meant get down--and you did, only catching the start of your Commander snagging a fistful of vines and clambering the wall.

A blink of lightning, rumble of thunder, the slosh of boots in rain. Waiting in silence was near-impossible, given the burgeoning burn in your arm, but the thought of being discovered tempered your pain response. Hoping to keep your heart pumping, you scooted, peeking from the ground, seeing Kylo atop the mausoleum, a frenzied fiend, poised to pounce. The two sets of men turned the corner at once, rifles ready, only to meet each other, halting in confusion.

One of the men whipped his head around. “Where’d he--”

To your unfortunate luck, he spotted you.

“Hey!” He aimed his rifle and spun, losing balance in the muck.

The others noticed you, whirling weapons in your direction. Your heart skipped. You forgot to breathe.

The men aimed, and Kylo Ren launched from the roof, flipping into a pirouette, lightning wings exploding from his shadow. He slammed between you with a thunderclap, unleashing a torrent of death into the line of soldiers, bodies splattering like a gruesome glissando against the mausoleum. They scraped the stone, slouching sacks revealing a rainbow, oozing rusty rivers to the ground.

Your Commander exhaled, kneeling in the storm for several breaths before climbing to his feet, rounding on you, eyes aflame--as he did, a persistent Angel scrambled to stand. Bayonet-first, he barreled toward Kylo.

Kylo pivoted with a growl, grappling his own rifle and charging the soldier; with his superior reach, his bayonet pierced the man’s chest, and he drove him back, howling with fury, until the soldier slammed the wall. Sneering, he ripped the knife free, letting him collapse, leaving behind a bloody blot in the center of the crimson cascade painting the wall.

The wind wailed. Kylo’s shoulders fell, the only physical evidence of his exhaustion, water racing over his frame. After an empty moment, he turned and crossed over to you, face still etched with wrath. Whimpering, you cowered. You knew you’d fucked up.

“Do you listen?” he said through clenched teeth. “I gave you one order.”

You nodded, shame heating your cheeks. Kylo crouched, seized your chin, pinching your jaw in his thick fingers, smearing the scent of copper over your skin.

“Move without my permission again,” he said, “and I’ll make that bullet the last of your worries.”

You gulped. “I understand.”

He released you, glancing at your arm. Something flashed behind his eyes, and he leaned forward, easing you over his shoulder before standing.

“What is it?” you asked. “What’s wrong?”

But he said nothing, choosing instead to push through the rain. The ache at your arm was ballooning into a bubbling pain, streaking through your nerves, stealing your focus. Kylo cleared the final yards of the cemetery, carrying you to the parking lot. When you heard his boots hit clover-crusted pavement, he stopped, tense. He was silent, not even a breath drawn into his lungs. You didn’t speak. Or move.

Kylo lifted you from his shoulder, stepping behind one of the large black vans that had apparently shuttled the squads he’d obliterated, and planted you behind it. You stumbled, slightly dizzy, grabbing the side view mirror for balance. He observed your stability before blazing you with a glare and stalking toward the Audi.

Lightning flared, you saw Kylo circle the hood, head toward the passenger side--and then he snagged something behind the car, wrested it forward. Another Angel appeared, arm screwed in your Commander’s clutches, and with a single rough jerk, his pistol fell from his hand. Kylo caught it, wormed the soldier’s arm behind his back, and slammed him chest-first into the hood of the car. Another flicker of lightning, and his helmet was gone, the gun at his temple.

“One chance. Where’s Pryde. How many work for him.”

The man whinged. “I-I swear, I don’t--”

Kylo blew his brains over the Audi, chucked the pistol, and beat the man’s head into the hood. Heaving, he adjusted his grip, and struck it again, and again, and again, snarling as he bludgeoned a crater in the car with the bleeding skull. You watched, heart careening, shuddering with a reel of pain when he cast the body to the side and turned to face you, wracked with dying desperation. The storm had doused him watercolor crimson--a morbid, melting candle dripping red wet wax.

Perhaps it was conditioning, or perhaps it was the amplifying agony, eroding your rationality. Whatever it was, you found yourself utterly breathless at Kylo Ren’s brutality--yet only out of gratitude, out of knowledge that it was borne, bred within the very same hollow where he sheltered and nursed his affection for you.

With an exhale, he searched around the Audi, checking the undercarriage and examining the beneath the hood and trunk--scanning them, you supposed, for tampering. Apparently satisfied, he returned to you, and swung an arm under your knees, supporting your shoulders, cradling you to his powerful frame. You winced, letting your arm dangle, and he hustled you to the car, popping the back door open and stooping to lie you across the seats. Grimacing, you inched back--heat flushed your flesh in memory of the last time you’d been splayed over them. If Kylo remembered too, he didn’t show it; he waited until your feet were clear of the threshold before shutting the door and hopping in the driver’s seat.

“Stay still.”

He cranked the engine, gunned the gas--the car bounced as it flattened the Angel’s body to the asphalt--and peeled out of the parking lot. You groaned, squirming as fire seared your veins. The hurt had grown an angry heartbeat, now evident in the wake of dissipating adrenaline. Shivering, you drew in air through your nose, looping your free arm through the loose seatbelt in an attempt to anchor yourself.

“Where are we going?” Your voice was soft under the churning motor--he was flying down the streets.

“Quiet.”

Silence filled the car, and you released a slow, scared breath. Kylo glimpsed you for a blink, gaze glinting with fear. His throat bobbed.

“Home.”

You nodded, and allowed your eyes to close.

[voltrontranscript]

VLD S8E6: Genesis

Season 8 Episode 6: Genesis

Transcript by @dragonofyang

Summary: The Voltron Coalition has found Honerva’s base of operations on Oriande and prepares to take her down before she can use the siphoned quintessence to do untold damage, but they find her goals are not so simple, and every reality will pay the price for her ambitions.

[Google Doc]

Coran: We have confirmation that Honerva’s beasts have touched down on planets Sanook, VeXilum, Siiz, and we continue to receive more transmissions.

Veronica: This is consistent with the reports I’m receiving as well.

Pidge: The wormhole signatures we discovered on Olkarion, they were a map to where the robeasts were headed. They must have been waiting this entire time.

Keith: They’re targeting multiple fronts simultaneously.

Hunk: What do we do?

Shiro: We keep our calm. Coran, continue to mark the planets where the beasts have landed. Veronica, give us any real-time updates as they come in.

Veronica: Copy that. Just got another report from Sanook. The robeasts are covered in some type of shield like a particle barrier.

Allura: They’re not attacking the planet?

Veronica: Not yet.

[Scene change to the colony Alteans standing on Oriande.]

Honerva: For eons our people have suffered, cast out from our home, driven mad by the cursed Galra. We have sacrificed much. You have sacrificed much. But Lotor gave more than any of us. And today, his ultimate wish will be fulfilled. The Galra will pay for what they have done to the Alteans. The end for anyone that dares oppose us is near. It is time to begin. May Lotor’s light guide you.

[Cut to the meeting room of the IGF-Atlas.]

Veronica: The planets are reporting activity. The robeasts are siphoning quintessence.

Iverson: We need to engage them all, save as many people as we can. We’re talking about triage here.

Keith: We could split up the Lions.

Hunk: One Lion can’t handle a robeast on its own.

Keith: No, but it could slow them down, buy us some time.

Shiro: I say we attack them with the totality of our forces and wormhole from target to target.

Allura: No, we must attack Oriande directly. I think I know what Honerva’s doing. We know Honerva has the ability to create wormholes and that these wormholes are emanating from Oriande. She used a robeast to steal the Olkari cubes, which can mimic and intensify energy at a distance. And those robeasts are essentially armed with Komars, able to drain and transmit massive amounts of quintessence. Honerva is going to concentrate energy from across the universe to Oriande. She is making a Komar magnitudes larger than anything we’ve ever seen, something that could drain quintessence from an entire galaxy.

Sam: No.

Coran: That monster.

Pidge: What could she possibly need that much energy for?

Allura: I don’t know, but we need to act immediately. The only way for us to stop them is by going directly to Oriande.

Keith: And that’s what Voltron is gonna do.

Shiro: The Atlas will accompany you. We don’t have time to wait for the rest of the Coalition.

Keith: Contact Matt, let him know the rebels are gonna be in charge of the evacuation efforts for the occupied planets. They shouldn’t expect assistance.

Allura: Then we are in agreement. It is time to begin our assault on Oriande.

[Cut to Olia preparing to launch.]

Allura: Is everyone ready?

Shiro: We’re in position.

Allura: The universe is facing the gravest threat it has ever seen. Honerva has exploited a vulnerable people, my people, and bent them to her will. She convinced them to pilot her abominations and commit heinous acts. And now she has built a weapon that can destroy an entire galaxy. Today, we risk our lives for the greater good. We are the only thing that can stop her and defend the universe. It is time to end this war.

[Cut between Allura and Honerva powering up their respective teludavs, and then the robeasts shooting pink quintessence out from the planets they’ve occupied into deep space.]

Matt: Is everyone else seeing this?

N-7: Matt, what is happening?

Matt: I don’t know, but we’re going to save as many people as we can.

[Cut to the IGF-Atlas wormholing to the Petrulian Zone.]

Shiro: Sam, we’re experiencing interference. Can you lock that down?

Sam: I’m on it. This interference is multi-phasal. What could cause something like this?

Slav: Wait, what color socks are you wearing?

Sam: What? Why does that matter?

Slav: You didn’t answer me. Why didn’t you answer me? There’s a ninety-nine and three-fifths chance the multi-phasal interference is from a reality-ending event!

Sam: Because of my socks?

Slav: We need to modify the dichromate resonance chamber to a super position.

Sam: Good thinking. That will isolate the mutated antimatter isotopes.

Slav: And please put on some green socks!

Coran: The Atlas can’t go much further due to the Petrulian Zone’s radiation. There they are! The Olkari cubes!

Iverson: I’m not picking up any energy signatures. They must not be active.

Veronica: I’m picking something up. It’s coming from the white hole.

Allura: The Guardian. No! Where is the Guardian?

Keith: We don’t have time to engage these robeasts. Can you clear a path?

Shiro: We’ll get you through. Atlas crew, prepare for transformation sequence. Okay, Voltron, engaging now. Good luck out there.

Keith: Good luck to you as well. I’m deferring command to Allura. 

Veronica: Voltron is clear.

Shiro: We need to first focus on neutralizing those robeasts. Then we can attack those cubes to try and halt the process.

[Cut to Honerva on Oriande, then to the rebels evacuating the occupied planets, and once more to the IGF-Atlas fighting the robeasts in the Petrulian Zone as the beams of quintessence reach the Olkari cubes as Voltron flies through the white hole.]

Lance: Look out! Behind us!

Keith: We gotta move!

Allura: The Guardian! She’s draining its quintessence! No! She’s destroyed the Guardian! We have to stop that witch immediately!

Merla: It’s Voltron. Defend our goddess!

Pidge: Two robeasts, incoming!

Keith: Form swords!

[Cut to the IGF-Atlas fighting the robeasts.]

Veronica: Shield energy at forty-three percent. Thirty-six.

Shiro: We’re not going to make it through their blockade.

Iverson: What’s the plan?

Shiro: Scramble the MFEs. We need their precise striking ability. Pilots, attack the weak spot on their chest plate when their cannon fires.

Pilots: Copy.

Shiro: Stay safe out there. Give them heavy covering fire so they can get in close.

[Cut to Zethrid, Ezor, and the Olkari Technician in a holding cell.]

Olkari Technician: I think we’re in the middle of a battle.

Zethrid: We need to get out of here.

Ezor: No! 

Zethrid: Trust me.

[Cut to the bridge of the IGF-Atlas.]

Veronica: We’ve got a security breach reported in cell block two one four. Zethrid and the Olkari have escaped their cells. It looks like they’re on their way to the bridge.

Shiro: We don’t have time for this.

Coran: Performing evasive maneuvers!

Iverson: We have an overload in munitions bay three.

Veronica: Sir, Zethrid’s almost here.

Shiro: Prepare for a breach!

Zethrid: We’re here to help!

Shiro: What? How did you even escape?

Olkari Technician: I’m an Olkari. Your security is childlike.

Zethrid: Look, I know you don’t trust me, but we are facing certain death. Let my tech help!

Shiro: Fine.

Olkari Technician: Excellent job fusing Earth technology with Altean magic.

[Cut to the MFE pilots fighting the robeasts.]

Rizavi: I’m hit! Repeat, I’m hit! Recovering all systems.

Shiro: It worked! Pilots, we’ve got you covered. Kinkade, get Rizavi back to the Atlas safely. Griffin and Leifsdottir, use this opportunity to hone in on the robeast’s crystal.

Griffin: Copy!

Shiro: MFEs, on my count. Three… Two… One!

Iverson: Yes!

Shiro: Outstanding.

Veronica: Yeah!

[Cut to Voltron fighting the robeasts on Oriande.]

Lance: Huh? Wha… What is going on?

Hunk: Are those people down there?

Pidge: According to my readings, we’re seeing into other realities.

Lance: What?!

Pidge: There must be some kind of rip in the fabric of time. The essence of realities is leaking out. Honerva is tearing apart timelines. She could cause irreparable damage to reality itself.

Allura: Hunk!

Hunk: I feel it.

Allura: Let’s move!

[Cut to the IGF-Atlas as the white hole emits a blast and forces it to revert to ship form.]

Sam: What just happened?

Slav: I don’t know. I’ve never seen anything like this before.

Sam: I’m attempting a reboot of the thera-magnetic oscillator.

Slav: Wait, did you change your socks?

Sam: What? I thought you were kidding.

Slav: Oh, no! I think we were just hit with time spillage.

Sam: Time spillage?

Slav: It’s a rip in the fabric of this reality. Pulses of quintessence are disassociating the synchronized molecules in the ship’s power crystal.

Sam: How do we fix it?

Slav: For starters, you have to take off your socks!

[Cut to the rebels as the robeast collapses and the energy beam dies.]

Matt: Everyone’s safely on board. Let’s get out of here.

[Cut back to Oriande, where Honerva screams and collapses as a bright flash of light reveals the Sincline mech kneeling in the center of the alchemical circle.]

Keith: This was Honerva’s plan all along.

Allura: No. He’s back. I can’t… No!

Keith: Paladins, attack!

Merla: Lotor!

Altean Acolyte: Lotor has returned!

Allura: No.

Merla: Something’s not right.

Allura: We need to move. Does anyone copy? Blue, please respond. Time to end this.

Lance: Allura!

Altean Acolyte: The Red Lion is moving.

Merla: Wait! Stay back! Get out of there now!

Altean Acolyte: Lotor?

Merla: No.

Honerva: Still… Altea’s wayward daughter.

Allura: Don’t you dare mention Altea to me.

Honerva: This is just the beginning. Join me and our people. Together we will go back to Altea.

Allura: We cannot go back. It is destroyed because of you.

Honerva: Think of your father. I knew Alfor well. This is what he would have wanted. Join me and the Alteans.

Allura: Never! You cannot keep me here forever. And the moment you release your hold, I will end you.

Honerva: Then you will end your friends as well. I am the only thing keeping my son at bay. Join the right side of this war.

[Cut to the IGF-Atlas as power returns to it.]

Veronica: Captain, Commander Holt got the Atlas back online.

Shiro: Get the MFEs on board.

[Cut back to Oriande as pink lightning begins to spark.]

Allura: Paladins, are you there? Paladins, respond. We must get out of here or we will all perish.

Lance: Allura.

Keith: I’m moving again. Pidge, Hunk?

Pidge: I’m here.

Hunk: Yellow’s back online.

Allura: Let’s move.

Pidge: The white hole is closing. If we don’t get out, we’ll be trapped here forever.

[Cut to the bridge of the IGF-Atlas.]

Veronica: The white hole’s energy is collapsing into a gravity surge. There’s no way we’ll hit escape velocity.

Coran: At this point, our only hope of escape is via wormhole.

Shiro: How long do we have?

Veronica: Minutes? Seconds? It’s impossible to be sure with these surges.

Shiro: Coran, move us into position to intercept.

Coran: Adjusting heading.

Shiro: Sam, I need every ounce of power you can give us.

Sam: Pulling energy from all systems.

Shiro: They’ll come.

Veronica: The white hole’s about to collapse.

Coran: They’re here!

Shiro: Coran, we need a wormhole, now!

Hunk: What the heck just happened?

Allura: We failed. And every reality will pay the price.

End.

[ofsvnlightt]

it’s been a while since i’ve done one of these! update for jester

her memories were up through episode 130 but now they’ll be from 136! instead of doing an in character self para, i’m just going to do bullet points this time. it’s still going to be a very long post though. 🤷‍♀️ 

also, a quick note, i loved using amanda arcuri as jester’s fc because of her blue hair but she had minimal resources and she looked too young for how i picture jester. so now she’s back to laura harrier, who i’ve used previously. and despite her being brunette, jester still has blue hair!! :)

jester’s updated memories, aka a walk through 6 episodes of critical role:

short version:

currently ahead of the tomb takers, the mighy nein arrive at a secret entrance lucien had mentioned and begin their way into another section of the aeoran ruins. setting a trap, they successfully ambush the tomb takers, killing 3 of the 5. lucien and cree get away and now they’re chasing them...again, instead of being ahead like they were.  finally catching up, lucien opens a portal to the astral sea. him and cree jump in, threshold crests in hand, and begin floating toward the cognoza ward. beginning to fight but ultimately avoiding a huge water elemental, the nein also make it through the portal in pursuit of the two remaining members of the tomb takers. they need to stop them from bringing this section of aeor back to the material plane.

loooong version: numbers in parentheses are the ep numbers  

so, where we last left off, the nein were bedding down for the night in caduceus’ home, the blooming grove. (130)

the next morning, caleb teleports the nein to eiselcross. magic is tricky here due to the ruins of aeor, but luckily, they’re only about two days away from their target, the vurmas outpost, where essek is located. (131)

they make it there without issue, and recruit essek for their trip into some of the ruins as well as their eventual fight against lucien and the tomb takers. 

making it to lucien’s secret entrance (thanks to the wildmother) the nein begin their trek into the depths of aeor to try to beat lucien to whatever he’s planning to do to bring the cognoza ward back.

 they almost immediately get attacked by 3 undead ice giants. (132) but they make it out alive, killing two and turning one into a sloth.

as they continue their journey and after some yasha/veth hijinks, they’re still down hp but run into some more monsters, behirs. they defeat them too though. (132/133)

continuing, they come upon a portion of the city. with invisibility from veth and flight from caleb, caduceus checks it out.

finding it safe, the rest of the nein make their way to the center of this ruin, an amphitheater. there, they find a blue dome, with people on the inside, still. frozen in time.

there’s nothing they can do, unable to find the root of the spell or whatever made the dome, so they continue on their way. after a lot of discussion of how to ambush the tomb takers since they’re ahead of them, they back track a little and set a bunch of traps. juster casts the symbol spell halfway down a cliffside, and just below, caleb, beau, and essek set 3 intuit charges.

they then go into caleb’s tower and jester prepares a hero’s feast so they’re ready for the tomb taker’s arrival. caleb takes watch (through frumpkin) outside of the tower but out of range of the intuit charges; everyone else sleeps in the tower, but in the foyer together instead of in their rooms. 

about 5 hours into their night’s rest though, essek gets word from the rangers hidden outside the ruins that there are 5 figures approaching - the tomb takers.

fjord orders to engage, hoping to slow them down a little so the nein can get a full rest. they don’t however. caleb is notified via frumpkin disappearing that the intuit charges went off so he dispels the tower, popping everyone out and waking them up.

they all rush to the location of the charges seeing 3/5 tomb takers unconscious, lucien and cree the only ones standing.

out of frustration and self preservation, cree dimension doors the two of them away.

fjord, yasha, and veth take final blows on the 3 unconscious tomb takers to super make sure they’re dead and can’t come back. veth shoots one through the mouth with her crossbow, yasha and fjord decapitate the other two. (133/134)

the nein then make their way back to the ruin from the day before, following a blood trail left by cree. 

when the trail runs dry momentarily, they continue on their way through the destroyed city. beau and veth scout ahead, coming back to report that they saw bodies of some strange aeoran creatures.

they all backtrack once again, checking out the amphitheater. essek is unable to ascertain anything about the dome as well. finding a somewhat still put together body, caduceus casts speak with dead on an aeor citizen. (ooc: they gain some important information but nothing necessary for how i’m playing jester.)

veth then inspects an automaton that was near the dome. using a scavenged gem from much earlier in the nein’s explorations of the aeoran ruins, she inserts it into the robot, bringing him to life. he’s very damaged and can’t walk, but can speak. jester offers to carry him on her back. caduceus names him charlie.

the group making it to where veth and beau were before, they all see the carnage of the battle that was done here, most likely by lucien and cree. 

stealthily going past it, they continue down the thoroughfare before coming to a wall or giant sheet of rock. following it to the left, beau finds an opening. walking through, they find more spatterings of blood, cree’s most likely. the tunnel opens into a chamber, with a pulsing spire in the middle of it. electrical. 

realizing they’ve been followed by a creature similar to the ones they’d seen earlier, that’d been killed by lucien and cree - an aeoran reverser, they run into the electric chamber and caleb casts globe of invulnerability.  from one of the other hallways, they’re greeted by another experiment, an aeoran absorber. 

they fight the creatures and slay them all, making it out alive. coming to some doors that charlie believes is to the genesis ward, the group lay outside them and take a much needed rest.

before going to sleep, jester scrys on cree. her and lucien are patching themselves up. she curls into a ball (as a cat does, she’s a tabaxi) and rests while lucien, who doesn’t need sleep, takes watch.

waking up, beau and caleb both have a third eye marking - beau’s on her chest, caleb’s on his left palm. (135)

approaching the doors, veth and fjord try to open one but a hinge snaps and it gets stuck. yasha and jester then try, successfully getting the door open. entering, the nein see before them, a wide open area, much like previous places within the ruins they’ve seen. 

however, in the center, this section of the city curves upward, as if there was an explosion of some sort from underground.

beau climbs the crater and looks down, seeing partially ruined and sheered off remnants of a subterranean city.

they all climb up to be with beau and looking down, jester sees a room just a few levels down that looks familiar from her scry.

using rope to climb down into the crater, everyone stops on the first level where there is a records room. caleb is in heaven. yasha and essek stay behind with him while the rest move on.

jester leading the way, they rest begin to climb down to the room she recognizes, but they stop on the next floor down as the rope begins to fray.

when the other three finish, caleb begins to climb down the rope, not knowing it’s somewhat compromised, and it snaps. he casts polymorph, turning himself into a bird, thus making it the rest of the way fine. essek floats down (that’s like his thing), and yasha bamfs out her wings, flying herself down. she then carries everyone down to the third level, the one they want to be on, as said by jester.

they walk down the hallway and come to a chamber where there are three rooms. one reads repair terminal. they take charlie there to fix him, setting him inside a tube. it closes and when it opens, what was once a damaged, half-robot, is now a fully functional one. he introduces himself as devexian.

fjord asks about threshold crests, mentioning the astral sea, and he tells them to go to b9. within the immensus gate, that’s where the planar tethers are. he leaves, wanting to try to recover any allies

exiting the repair terminal, the nein head into the rejuvenation experimentation room. there, they find two tubes, one is damaged. fjord goes into the undamaged one and as a gem glows at the bottom of the tube, he gains the benefits of a long rest. essek ascertains that dunamancy is at work here and takes the gem from the damaged tube and gives it to caleb, for later use.

going back into the central chamber, they are crossed with another creature - this one an aeoran nullifier. a battle begins.

another creature shows up mid fight, but caduceus banishes it. finishing off the nullifier, the nein run back to the entrance (the crater) and since they have no rope, some use fly and others feather fall  (via veth) to float down to level b9, hot on the trail of lucien and cree.

coming to b9, they all land into rushing water. something from far ahead is causing this stream of sorts. (136)

beginning to move forward, beau notices that the shadows aren’t as intense as they used to be. one of the eye markings has given her (and caleb) darkvision. they also now have true sight (can see through illusions) and can speak to others and each other telepathically. 

caleb also reveals that during jester’s scry the night before, sprinkle was chittering in her ear. during this ritual, artagan usually appears to help her out, but this time, even though he was, only sprinkle could be seen. this means that sprinkle has been artagan (almost) the whole time!!!! he’s been inhabiting him. artie then appears and explains that he wanted to be close to jester ever since the iron shepherds incident. (ep 26)

continuing down the hall they come to a closed door labeled t-dock project. opening the door, jester, yasha, and caleb walk down the lead-lined hallway into a small room. investigating it for a little bit, yasha grabs essek, and him and caleb check out the runic circle in the middle of the room. the symbols are a combination of both transmutation and dunamancy. they deduce (with help from journals in the room) that it was used for temporal alteration - aka, time travel.

while the group is semi-split up with some in this chamber, the connecting hallway, and the main hallway, veth and fjord hear (and fjord can see) a monster jump down to their level. after some chaotic planning, the group decides to just walk away and not engage with the monster. 

continuing down the main hallway, stealthily now as to not alert to monster, they come to two more rooms. beau investigates. one in labeled kitchen, the other common area. she sees two aeoran absorbers napping in the kitchen, so she let’s the others know and they head toward the common area. entering, caleb approaches a plaque that reads immensus hall, but gets too close to an unseen intuit charge, setting it off. a trap set by lucien and a taste of their own medicine.

the blast also injures and awakens the absorbers. deciding to run instead of fight, the nein enter the immensus hall and caleb puts up a wall of force to keep the two absorbers and the other monster out. it works to their benefit and the creatures fight each other instead.

descending down some stairs, the water has gotten deeper and underneath, beau spots two more intuit charges. caleb uses dispel magic to disarm them.

seeing another threshold into another room, veth invisibly stealths ahead. entering the room, she sees a ring pillar on a raised platform and two figures darting around the pillar. within the ring is a crackling blue line - the source of the water. she returns to everyone else and tells them.

beau and caleb hear lucien in their minds (he can speak telepathically too....he has nine eyes, where as beau and caleb have 3) saying that he’s set up precautions (intuit charges) but he’d like to chat first.

[enter villain monologue]

cree inserts a tuning rod, lucien lifts a lever, and the thin crackling line opens enough to let out a mass of water. she switches out the rods and lifts the lever once more, the new portal fully opening to the astral sea.

lucien invites them to follow, but as they begin chase, a huge water elemental forms from the last rush of water lucien let out. the group fights a little bit but ultimately circumvents the elemental and jumps through the portal

jester’s the last one and as she jumps through, the elemental grabs her, but with a clutch mage hand move by veth, she pulls the lever on the other side of the portal, closing it and severing the hold the elemental had on jester.

and now they begin/continue their pursuit of cree and lucien, now floating in the astral sea. next stop: the cognoza ward, to stop the two remaining members of the tomb takers in setting the threshold crests and bringing it to the material plane.

and that’s where episode 136 ends! i could’ve/should’ve just gone to 138 to have her memories fully caught up, but we’re close to the climax of this current arc and so much is going to happen in the coming week(s), that i didn’t want to do that. and look at how long this is!!! it’s 52 bullet points and it would be at least 20 more if i added two more episodes.... so i think this is okay for now. :)

if you read all this, snaps and hats off to you. ily

[aliceslantern]

Give/Take, a Kingdom Hearts fanfic, chapter 2

Ienzo has been too busy since the war to be overwhelmed by the past. But with little progress to be made in his work with Kairi, old nightmares start to invade.

Riku is a glorified housesitter. Lonely and faced with no choice but to wait for a way to find his friends, he eagerly accepts when Ienzo asks him to help do repairs around the castle. Before long, the two strike up an unlikely friendship, united by their dark pasts and their attempts to be better people.

But just as they begin to consider something more... Kairi wakes up.

Ienzoku (Ienzo/Riku), post-Melody of Memory, slow burn. Updates Thursdays until it's done.

Chapter summary:  Ienzo and Ansem have an honest conversation about his time as Zexion. Riku is restless.

Read it on FF.net/on AO3

---

Ienzo thought often about sleep. Most of his days were preoccupied with sleep, and hearts, and trying to remember what he had studied years ago. In the intervening years in the Organization, he had cared less about hearts and more about Kingdom Hearts.

Hearts. Sleep. Old men passive-aggressively jabbing at each other.

His hands were on the keyboard, and he saw code slowly and steadily ticking in. Code he should subsequently be de coding. But he… felt…

Ansem’s hand on his shoulder startled him, making him gasp aloud like a startled animal. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Ienzo shook the fuzz out of his eyes, his heart still pounding in his chest, adrenaline making him shaky. All of these human reactions were so sensorily intense . “It’s… it’s alright. I was the one far away.”

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. I’m fine.” He stood, feeling woozy. “I’m…” He pressed two fingers to his brow, trying to hide the dizziness.

“How long have you been here?” Ansem asked softly.

Ienzo blinked, and realized, “I don’t know.”

“Why don’t you go get some rest?”

“I don’t need rest, I need to keep working through this.” He scowled. “It doesn’t help that my memory of coding is hazy at best--”

“Then why don’t you let me help you? I can give you a refresher on the basics.” He smiled kindly, and Ienzo felt an unexpected stab of memory--sitting as a small child on Ansem’s lap as he taught him the very basics of HTML, his eyes gleaming with pride at Ienzo’s first project (a page that simply said “HELLO!”).

But then, equally… his eyes flicked over to the closed door to the lab, the one he’d begged Ansem to finalize. And he was reminded for the millionth time that this was his fault.

“Would that help?” Ansem prompted.

He shook his head to dismiss the memories. “Yes. Yes, that would be prudent.”

“When was the last time you slept?” Ansem asked.

“I’m fine.”

He frowned.

“Really. I’m fine.”

There was a pause. Ansem knotted his hands together. “Naminé once told me that Nobodies do not need sleep. Is that true?”

Ienzo’s eyebrows shot up. Ansem hadn’t brought up the reality of their pasts--namely, the ten years he and Even had been Nobodies. “Yes, it’s true,” he said. “One physiologically can , of course, but it is not necessary to live.”

Ansem pursed his lips. “Does it feel… odd, to return to those needs, then?”

Ienzo considered, woozily. “Yes, it does,” he admitted. “I feel like I’m losing a lot of time from my day.”

He opened his mouth, closed it, then finally said, “do you like being human again?���

“Well, I had no say in the matter,” he said, “but it is… better than being the monster I was. I…” He rested his hand on his chest, feeling the pound of his heart. “I like having choice.”

Ansem smiled. “I’m sure you must.”

Ienzo exhaled. “I’ve done a great many awful things,” he said. “I wasn’t… a passive captive. Were it not for Saїx’s machinations, I likely would’ve been second in command. I… cared for their goals. I wanted it.”

Ansem cocked his head. “To be whole?”

“I don’t think so.” Ienzo squinted, trying to remember how it had felt to be Zexion. “In pursuit of… knowledge. Of growth of the Organization. I’m… I’m sorry.” Guilt hardened into a sour seed in his stomach, making him nauseous. “I’m so sorry.”

Ansem digested this, his eyes going somewhere distant and sad. “It says a lot about who you truly are, that the moment you were whole again, you chose the path of light,” he said gently.

“It does not feel that way.”

“I’m sure,” he said. “But we’ve all done things we regret. There’s no changing the past, as paltry as that sounds. Helping Kairi, and ergo, Sora and Riku… is a good first step.”

“I’m not sure it will ever be enough.”

“You can’t help how you grew up,” Ansem said. “In darkness, in nothing, manipulated, I’m sure, by them. You were just a boy. You said so yourself. How old were you, Ienzo?”

“Just shy of nine,” he said, not wanting to make eye contact.

“Precisely. A brilliant child… but still a child.”

“But what of--when I grew older? When I should have known better?”

Ansem squeezed his shoulder a second time. “By then you already believed.”

“I’m not innocent. I… the things I’ve done…” He exhaled. “I cannot simply absolve myself of guilt. I… I don’t want to.”

“I do hope that someday you can forgive yourself,” Ansem said. “You’re too young to live with such a heavy heart.”

“I think it is earned,” Ienzo said.

Ansem sighed.

“I’m going to go try to sleep for a few hours,” he said. “I’m sorry to leave this all in your lap.”

“It’s quite alright. I don’t mind.”

Ienzo wasn’t sure what else to say, so he started walking back to his room. He thought about what Ansem had said. His heart did feel heavy--quite literally. But how could he just… move on and have a normal life after everything he’d done? He didn’t know of anyone who’d messed up as colossally as he had. Wouldn’t it be wrong ? Masturbatory, so to speak? Where was his karmic payback? Why had he gotten this wholeness so many craved so dearly? He didn’t even want --

There had to be some way to silence the noise in his head.

Ienzo took a quick shower, put on some pajamas, and climbed into bed. His bedroom felt more cluttered and cramped than he remembered, the window by his double bed drafty. The overburdened bookcase was packed two and three deep, the rolltop desk flooded with yet more papers. He should clean and organize, remove the very last of his childhood things; there was still kid’s clothing in some of his dresser’s drawers.

His mind was swimming hopelessly with memories of the Organization’s plans to take down worlds--

Somehow, Ienzo fell into a restless sleep.

He recognized this dream, this nightmare. The tight, dark corners of the basement of Castle Oblivion. A redheaded demon, a boy in a black-and purple jumpsuit. A sharp glove at his throat, the tight heat of darkness swallowing him, and he couldn’t breathe couldn’t breathe--

Ienzo sat up. Slowly. He touched the scar at the base of his throat, thick and ridged. It was the darkness, not the replica’s sharp gloves, that had left this mark on him. Tears burned his eyes. He felt pathetic, weak, for being in the grip of this memory. It was over with. It was the least of what he’d deserved.

Human.

He thought of the dizzy spin of those first few moments after he’d woken, on the cold lab floor, bleeding from the marks around his throat. How the swelling had made it feel like he couldn’t breathe, still, how everything felt like it was echoing loudly around him, his heart like a weight in his chest. Trying to push himself up, seeing Even and Dilan’s brutalized forms, Aeleus trying not to show how much pain he, too, was in. Being the least injured, it had been up to Ienzo to try and tend to their wounds. At least he’d had the foresight to study medicine in the Organization.

And truthfully, even though it had been nearly two months back in this body, with this heart, Ienzo… still was not used to humanity, the pulse and pound of unexpected emotions. Once he couldn’t get open a jar of peanut butter for his breakfast toast and the anger he felt when he struggled was so overwhelming he’d just thrown the damn thing. But more than anything he felt a guilt so thick it was like lead, and an anxiety he could never fully set this right.

He looked at the clock. He’d slept about five hours, which he supposed after that nightmare was all he’d get. He was feeling nauseous and achy again, shaky with low blood sugar. So much time I must spend doing maintenance on this body. It seemed almost like a waste.

But he needed to stay alive. To help, to atone.

Ienzo got up and went to the kitchen.

---

Riku couldn’t take the silence anymore. It was almost making him jumpy, and after so long without human interaction, he thought he was starting to hear sounds that weren’t there. The dizzy nightmares of that city didn't help. He wondered if he should tell Ienzo and the others about it; but every time he tried to remember fine details, all he could recall was the deep blue color of the sky. Not helpful.

If not for the gummiphone, Riku would’ve lost track of time, too. Ienzo had told him how to use it, but he still struggled a bit with the interface. But, he figured, if Sora , who had nearly failed their high school computer literacy course, could grasp it, so could he.

Sora.

Riku felt something like a stab of pain. It felt like it had been a long time since he’d seen him, since they’d gotten to do more than chat for a few minutes. Kairi, too, he’d barely gotten to speak with at the beach during their brief victory party. At least he knew she was--physically--okay.

He felt so… alone.

He took a deep breath in and let it out, slowly. I’m not alone, he forced himself to think. Even if it feels that way. Our hearts are connected.

That didn’t make the silence any less piercing.

Riku got up. He had to go get some laundry, make himself something to eat. At least this was something he could do.

He wondered if it were too soon to go back to Radiant Garden. He knew Ienzo said he’d call the moment something came up, but maybe Cid had something new, or maybe there were even some Heartless to fight. Something. Someone.

“Oh god, I’m losing my mind,” he said out loud. He took out the gummiphone and looked down at its screen. It was still set to the generic background it came with, mostly because he didn’t know how to change it. With clumsy thumbs, he opened the text messaging app and started to write. The keyboard felt awkward in his hands.

Mickey,

I hope your journey with Donald and Goofy is going well. I’m guessing it must be good to spend time with them again. How’s the Queen?

I’ve been staying in the Land of Departure. Terra asked me to, but I think it’s partially because he wanted me to feel like I had an official duty as a Keyblade master. Mostly it’s just housesitting. If you ever have time, you three should come by. It’s a lot prettier than Castle Oblivion. It feels more alive.

The Radiant Garden guys are still hard at work studying Kairi’s heart, so she’s been asleep. They warned me it might take a long time. I still wish there was something I could do, but the power of waking won’t help in this case. So they say, anyway. I don’t really understand it fully myself.

If there’s anything I can do to make your journey any easier, let me know. Take care of yourselves out there.

--Riku

This written, it didn’t make Riku feel any less alone. More like he was speaking out into nowhere. He went and finished his chores, worked out for a little while. When he came back there was a response.

Howdy Riku!

Great to hear from ya! The Queen and Daisy are both doing great. We actually got to talk to them last night--love these nifty gadgets! If only we’d had them years ago… can you thank Ienzo for them the next time you see him? Chip and Dale also say hello to you both.

So far we’re doing our best to find more information about Sora, but so far there are no leads that I can tell, anyway, and you know how sharp Goofy is looking for these things. This all got so complicated… but I have hope that we’ll all be together soon!

I hope you’re not getting too stir crazy up in there. If you like, the Queen says you’re welcome to visit any time. And if we’re in the area I’m sure we’ll drop by! I hope staying there isn’t too hard on you.

Thanks for writing! Speak soon.

--Mickey.

Riku exhaled. He was positive he was reading too much into the tone of the letter. Mickey was never condescending towards him. Every word he’d written, he’d meant.

Maybe Riku should get out of here. He could thank Ienzo, for one thing, maybe help with some Heartless there, or the restoration committee was always working on some project or another. Get his hands dirty, like the work he used to do on the play island--

He was used to the accompanying stab of pain he got when he thought of them, but it didn’t make it any easier. Yes. Riku very much needed to get out of here.

---

It was raining in Radiant Garden when Riku got in. It washed away the rest of the gel in his hair, making it fall hopelessly into his eyes, and he kept trying to blow it out of his face. The haircut had been a spur-of-the-moment decision, something to get rid of that old self, but this current in-between length was unbearable. He didn’t want to think about spikes or spiky hair. (The fact that he’d run out of hair gel was also besides the point.) He wandered the streets for a time. Just seeing other people was nice, made him remember he was real.

The slope up to the entrance of the castle was muddy in the deluge. At least I’ll have an excuse to do laundry when I get back, he thought. One of the guards--he didn’t remember their names yet, and decided he really should--waved him in. “Try not to track mud all over the place,” he said, rolling his eyes.

Riku washed off his shoes with a water spell and kept walking. The place was always dank and damp in the best of circumstances, but today it was downright cold. He shivered and wished he knew air magic, something to dry himself off. Oh well. He’d had worse recently than being a little cold and wet.

The path up to the lab was very much familiar now. He saw places where the people here were trying to repair all the structural issues; the moldy carpeting torn up, the fallen pipes cleared away. The circular office before the lab had been cleaned up too; the bits of broken glass were finally gone.

Riku saw them before they saw him. He observed them for a few minutes, in their long white coats and oddly formal scarves. He tried not to audibly shiver, his hair sending droplets onto the floor.

“All looks… very much ordinary , from what we’ve been able to decipher,” the one formerly known as Vexen was saying. “Would help if I could understand your shorthand.”

Riku saw a scowl cross Ienzo’s face, the first mean expression he’d seen on the young man since they’d met again. He thought of Zexion, all claws and cruelness and teeth. “My shorthand is up-to-date. It’s not my fault your knowledge of coding has fallen by the wayside.”

“Boy, I have more important things to do--”

“Like what? Is this not our priority?”

“ She is our priority. Keeping up with some language is not.”

“Your sniping does not help either,” Ansem the Wise added. He went over to the console computer, punched some things in, and shook his head. “Though I agree with Ienzo that we should all at the very least be on the same page.”

Ienzo’s smirk became a hesitant smile.

Then, “I think we can all use a crash course.”

The smile became a scowl again. Riku chuckled despite himself. So the politeness was partially an act. Good to know. He crossed over into the hallway, letting his footsteps make more noise than earlier. Their heads snapped up; Even seemed to struggle to get his expression to be neutral, while Ansem offered a kindly smile. Ienzo’s face simply went blank, and Riku felt an odd surge of jealousy for his control over his emotion. “Oh, hello, Riku. We weren’t expecting you,” he said.

“I’m sorry just to drop by like this,” he said, feeling a blush color his face. “But I was wondering if--” Seeing their faces fall just slightly, “there’s… no news, is there?”

Ienzo took a few steps closer to him. He always seemed to be a little… cautious, in the way he moved around Riku. Could this really be about the bad blood in their past? “I’m very sorry, but no. No significant change.”

He glanced over towards Kairi, still fast asleep in the chair. He noted that at least they’d given her a blanket. “How’s she doing?”

“She’s being kept very comfortable, I assure you,” Ienzo said. “Neurological functioning is the way it should be.”

He crossed his arms, trying to suppress the shivering; it was even colder in here. “Could I… can I go up to her? It won’t interrupt anything, will it?”

Ienzo shook his head. “She’s too deeply asleep to be disturbed by our voices. Though perhaps--” Looking him over and wrinkling his nose. “You might like a towel?”

Riku looked at his palms. His wrist braces were awkwardly wet, and he knew they’d take hours to dry out. “Sorry. It’s, uh, raining.”

He nodded. “Come with me.”

He followed Ienzo. He was only the slightest bit taller than Riku now, but his strides seemed long, quick and precise, the white coat flaring out. “If you’d like, I can get you something dry to wear,” he said. “We’re probably about the same size.”

The idea of dry clothes was appealing, but the idea of wearing something of Ienzo’s made him feel, well, pretty weird. “No, that’s okay, thanks,” he said. “I’m probably gonna head out before too long anyway.”

“I imagine you must be quite busy.” Ienzo opened a door to a very average linen closet and pulled out a white towel. Riku did feel much better with it around his shoulders.

He just shrugged in response. They started walking back.

“If you’re worried about her health, she’s in quite good hands,” Ienzo said. “I… understand why you might be hesitant.”

“It’s… not that.” Not entirely. “I just…”

“Worry about your friends?” Ienzo prompted. “I can imagine. Yes, it’s been… a rather tectonic year or so.”

“We’ve all been separated on and off since our world fell,” he said, feeling a stab of guilt. “Though that was… kind of my fault. Not kind of. It was .”

Ienzo’s eyebrows shot up. “Is that so?”

“I know, I know. Some hero, right?” he forced himself to laugh.

“I… know that feeling exactly.” Ienzo cleared his throat. “Were it not for all we’ve done here… well.” He sighed. “We cannot… change the past. Not without a lot of nonsense.”

Riku smiled a little despite the heaviness of the conversation. “It almost feels… fake, how all this happened. When I heard about the… vessels, and the time travel, I was just like… are you kidding me? ”

Ienzo chuckled. “I think we all had that reaction. Even I cannot comprehend what exactly he was planning to do--and I was part of some of it.”

Riku thought about that laugh for a moment, how different it sounded than Zexion’s. More human, softer. Then again, the boy next to him was human. Trying to be better. Aren’t we all, he thought, wryly.

Back in the lab, he crossed over to Kairi and took her hand, hoping his wasn’t too cold. Her breathing was deep and even, and she looked peaceful. He wondered if she actually felt that way, what the “examination” made her feel. He almost asked, but Ansem and Even seemed to be deep into some conversation he couldn’t understand, and Ienzo seemed distracted, his brows furrowed. “So, uh,” he began slowly. “How’s the Heartless population around here?”

He looked up, startled. “The claymore defense system manages it quite well,” he said, with a touch of defensiveness. “Though I guess there might be a few hanging around the edges of town.”

“Gotcha,” he said. “Well. I’m going to go check in with the committee. But before I go. Um. The King said thank you for the gummiphone. And that Chip and Dale said hello.”

“Of course,” he said, his expression again quite neutral. “That was kind of them.”

Riku took off his damp towel and folded it. He left the castle and went back out into the rain. If anything, the deluge had gotten heavier, to the point where his left wrist (which had never quite healed correctly) was throbbing. Ienzo had been right about the Heartless; the few ones in the center of town were easily dispatched without him even having to draw his Keyblade. Riku found himself scowling. Logically, he knew that the system was fantastic for the civilians here. But it took from him the only thing he could do to be of use. As it grew darker, he wandered farther and farther into the fissures surrounding town, where he finally found something worth fighting.

He tried to vent his frustration into these Heartless, especially at his own uselessness. He was a Keyblade master , and all he could do was beat up a few mooks, was wait around for things to happen. He hated feeling like this; it was so like the old days on the island. At least this time he wouldn’t do something so off-the-walls stupid like let a creep in a robe persuade him to do what they wanted.

No, instead he was fighting Heartless. Alone. In the rain.

By the time he’d fought the last one in the vicinity, it was dark, and he could no longer suppress the shaking. “Idiot,” he said out loud. The clothes might protect him from darkness, but they wouldn’t protect him from the common cold. He should go back to the Land of Departure, take a hot bath, make himself some soup, and go to bed.

Riku went deeper into the fissures.

[sariahsue]

The Open Line

Ladybug knows that if it weren’t for Adrien, she would have fallen for Cat Noir, hard and fast. And when Oblivio takes her memory, she does just that. Able to keep her memory after the Oblivio incident but still unaware of Cat Noir’s real identity, Ladybug must deal with her growing feelings for her partner, who is desperately trying to win her over. (Rated PG.)

…

Chapter Two - Akuma (900 words)

Read chapter one here

Ladybug didn't even know her own real name, but she did know a few things:

1) Having super powers was great.

2) Being a superhero with no memory while a monster was chasing you was terrifying.

3) This Cat Noir guy was a total sweetheart. (And quite good-looking.)

Try as she might to not trip over her own clumisness, or figure out her powers, or not stutter over her words, she perpetually failed. And what did he do every time? Smiled kindly and told her to try again. Even though they were running for their lives from a giant monster, not once did he lose his patience or make her feel like a burden.

"We aren't getting anywhere just running away," she said, stopping at the end of what felt like the 500th hallway they'd run through.

"Got any other ideas in that wonderful brain of yours?" he asked. Even though she had no clue what she should be doing, and she was sure he was fully capable of comping up with a plan himself, he valued her input. She tried not to blush at the praise. (Judging by the smile creeping across his face, she was not successful.)

"I... I think I do," she finally said, pretending to study the skyline through a window that stretched from floor to ceiling and not her partner out of the corner of her eye. She could tell anyone who asked that Cat Noir's eyes were green, that the tip of his mask went juuuuust past the tip of his nose, and that a tiny crease appeared between his eyebrows when he was concerned. The weather outside the window she'd been staring at for thirty seconds? No clue.

Misinterpreting her silence as self-doubt, Cat Noir threw an arm around her and squeezed her shoulders comfortingly. She didn't correct his mistake.

"I'm sure it's a great idea," he said. "So let's hear it!"

Still not looking at him directly, Ladybug mumbled something about luring Oblivio out. "We know it's after us, so... I think it's time to set a trap? There's lots of smaller rooms that would work." Only when she finished did she realize that it had been quiet on their floor for too long. The monster was no longer following them. It had probably left the building to terrorize some innocents already. Her idea wouldn't work. And Cat Noir had been silent too, probably trying to figure out how to nicely tell her that her idea was stupid.

"We get to pick the playing field and set the rules," he said, one clawed finger tapping his chin. "I like it."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I knew you'd think of something! Just tell me what you want me to do. I'll help however I can."

Ladybug stood there like an idiot as she listened to her heart thumping. How was he having this much of an effect on her? Technically, she barely knew him.

"LB?" The crease appeared between his eyebrows.

"Right!" she squeaked. "F-first, we should find a good spot. Right. Yeah."

"A good... spot?" He lightly touched the middle of her mask, right over her middle ladybug dot. It was one of the worst jokes she'd ever heard (she didn't even need her memory to know that), but she almost giggled anyway. Honestly, how smitten was she?

Determined not to think about feelings she may or may not have for her partner, Ladybug turned and was about to dash down the hallway to start looking, but Cat Noir stopped her with two words.

"Oh, no."

"What?" Ladybug twisted back to him so quickly she almost lost her balance. She caught herself on the window, then leaned close against it for a better look at what Cat Noir had seen.

"So that's why it's been so quiet," she whispered. Oblivio had made its way back to the roof. A gigantic, pulsing ball of purple and black light hovered above the building, the edges just visible in the tall window. A threat. No, an ultimatum.

"Well," Cat Noir said cheerfully. "Now you can prove to Hawk Moth that you don't even need your memory to be amazing, huh?" He bumped her shoulder, trying to get her attention, but she couldn't look away from the light.

"My Lady?"

She shook her head slightly, continuing to stare.

Sensing her fear, he took a step closer. "We can do this," he said.

"We couldn't do it the first time. I had my memory-" and her knowledge of how to use her powers, her skills, her confidence- "and I was still hit. We failed."

"Hey." His hand gripped hers and gently led her away from the window, breaking her horrified gaze. "We haven't failed yet. Oblivio hasn't hurt anyone or taken our miraculouses. There's no reason we can't still win." He put both hands on her shoulders, forcing her to look him full in the face while he spoke earnestly. Something about it seemed familiar. "If you can't trust yourself yet, please trust me. I've seen you beat odds way worse than this, even on our first day. You can do this, okay?"

Ladybug took a deep breath, letting his reassurances and the warmth of his hands seep into her.

"Okay."

***

Read Chapter Three here!

Author's note: And so, after Ladynoir July ends, we finally get chapter two. I had valid excuses, though. The rest of the ride should be smoother, update-wise.

[xpouii]

Tentacletober Day 19

Yes it’s late! Yes I skipped Day 18! Yes I’m very tired lol. This day is a sequel to Day 12--which is a sequel to Day 9. SO if you want to read the full series from the start, 9 then 12 then 19!

Prompt: Protective Tentacles

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Characters: Logan, Roman, Virgil, Remus

Warnings/Tags: SFW, Swearing, sleep issues, sleep deprivation, mentioned bulimia, mentioned seizures, mentioned hallucinations, mentioned sleepwalking, drug use, prescription medicine abuse, kissing, fainting, brief mentions of therapy, hospital stay and psychiatric evaluation. General apathy and sympathetic Remus

               Logan grabbed the doorknob and heard the maid shout his name; he winced and turned, “Sarah, I really don’t have time to-“

               She held up the dropper with a look of longsuffering. Logan opened his mouth and took the drops of CBD oil under his tongue before rushing out the door. He spat into the bushes, taking a sip of water and rinsing out his mouth as he crossed the large lawn, punching in the code to open the gate as he spat again. He climbed onto the bus and sat down, taking out his phone and checking the school’s portal. Mr. Stevenson still hadn’t graded the Calculus exams, and Logan grit his teeth, shoving his phone into his pocket. Even though his parents would never ask, Logan liked to have his grades updated and ready to show them when they came in on Wednesdays for dinner. He was starting to feel slowed, and he checked the time, firing off a text to Roman as he swallowed his last stashed Adderall, hoping his friend would have more today.

               Logan had a schedule, just enough Adderall to last him until Wednesday, then he’d leave his new batch in his locked cello case until Thursday when his parents would no longer be home all evening and search his room. Then he hauled the cello home for his weekend lessons and used the school loaner on Friday. His mother would bring him on Monday mornings so he could bring the cello back and store it in the band room. Or Tuesday, if his mother was busy with meetings, like this week. Anytime Roman didn’t manage to palm enough Adderall—which was often—Logan would turn to the three other rich kids with prescriptions that were willing to sell—or trade for pot; Logan would take several pills a day, as many as it took to keep withdrawals at bay, unless he actually managed to run out. Logan’s parents were scientists, but his mother had gone on a natural medicine kick when the therapists had given up. So now he had a weed card, and a mother obsessed with monitoring his sleep—very unnecessarily. Logan had done plenty of research on the best ways to skip sleep, and other than days when his parents—or the maid—would watch him to make sure he didn’t spit out his treatments, or when his mother decided to try some new pot baked goods or when his father would smoke with him in some odd attempt to make Logan feel like they were bonding as men.

               As infuriating as that was, it didn’t hold a candle to the way his mother would wail and beg him to sleep on the weekends. Ever since his first seizure she had been insufferable, unbearable in her smothering. Logan tried to be more careful now, keeping track of the Adderall and the CBD and the caffeine and the sleep he’d actually given in to. The seizures had been the first symptom of critical systems failure, but certainly not the worst. The hallucinations were bad, auditory worse than visual because Logan had a harder time dismissing them. Worst of all were the episodes where he’d black out, but his body would keep going. He’d broken through his bedroom window and rolled off the roof, falling down and cracking his left shoulder. Thank god for your mom’s azalea bushes! Sarah had shouted at him, watching him writhe in pain in the grass. The time he’d managed to scare her had been his most frightening time as well.

              Logan had come to in the kitchen with a knife in his hand. Sarah was curled on the floor between the island and the oven, screaming for him to stop with the kitchen phone in her hand. He dropped the knife and started crying. He wanted to go to her for comfort. Sarah had raised him, after all, and Logan was six before he’d finally learned not to call her mommy. He was the monster, though, the bad thing he was scared of—and she was even more scared than he was. So, he turned around and went to his room, crying at his desk until the police and paramedics showed up. He’d spent a week in the hospital under strict psychiatric observation then. Logan had slept for 36 hours straight, and woken up with tears in his eyes. Both of his parents had been there, the whole time, and even now Logan’s heart would tighten at the warmth of the memory, waking up to their hugs and kisses and smiles.

              Logan was pulled out of his nostalgia when his phone pinged. His mother’s contact photo popped up on his phone over the text Have a good day, sweetie! See you tonight! I’m making dessert!

              Logan’s lip curled and he quickly checked his homework schedule, moving things around. His mother would definitely dose him tonight, which meant he’d sleep, and run behind. He would have exactly three hours from arriving home until his parents came in for dinner at 7 pm sharp. He could finish almost all of his homework, but the extra credit for Calculus 3 would have to wait until Thursday evening, pushing back his homework he planned to finish early in order to take a few hours off to watch Nasa’s livestream of the upcoming meteor shower. He swore under his breath. He hated missing the livestreams, especially when his parents would be bothering him about watching it. He wanted to, but he couldn’t fathom it now.

              He jumped when the bus stopped short and he had to throw out his hand to save his face from hitting the seat in front of him. He straightened his glasses and scowled up at the man in the mirror. Behind him a rowdy pair of girls started shouting obscenities, blaming the driver for interrupting their impromptu makeup session. Logan rolled his eyes, reminded of Roman and Virgil. The thought of his friends brought a genuine smile to his face. Although Logan was put on edge by the mere thought of sex, romance or—god forbid—love, he did wonder when his friends would admit their feelings for one another. Even his own mother had noticed their shameless heart eyes for one another during their last concert. Logan had tried to stop her from calling Virgil’s dads, but the woman never listened to him no matter how loudly he shouted. It was one of the biggest reasons Logan didn’t bother getting angry anymore, especially with his parents; it accomplished nothing and it wasted precious energy.

              A jab to the back of his head made him turn around, that well-hidden anger bubbling to the surface, but it dulled when he saw two of his usual suppliers had moved to the seat behind him. He glanced back to the usually inattentive driver and then dug in his backpack, producing the small parcels he usually divided his stash into for economical reasons. He set two between his feet and nudged them backwards, his eyes glued on the driver. A second later, the parcels were replaced with a pill bottle and he grabbed it, taking visual inventory of the total pills inside before shoving it into his backpack and zipping it. The two boys did the same, disappearing back into the proverbial crowd. The school was two stops away, and Logan had already gone back to calculating his homework time, and whether it would be worth skipping lunch or not. He decided against it—Roman probably wouldn’t eat, and Logan usually tried to get extra food for him at lunch, passing it to him during band and hoping Roman could end up trapped long enough to actually absorb some nutrients before purging everything again. It usually didn’t work, but sometimes the director was in a bad mood and he’d make Roman wait. Logan knew manipulating friends was technically wrong, but guilt wasn’t really something he participated in.

                 The hours went by fairly quickly until lunch; Roman had another Adderall for him and he saved it, swallowing it during third period Calculus when he decided to try and cram his extra credit in between taking lecture notes. Unlike the day before, Roman and Virgil attended lunch rather than smoking in the parking lot. Roman got a salad and a water while Virgil and Logan went for the cheeseburgers that were probably not made from actual meat, but they tasted brown, and they had cheese on them, and that was enough. They sat down at their table—avoided by most of the other students due to Logan’s snippiness. He was halfway through his food when Virgil choked on a bite, “Jesus L! Is that your heartbeat?”

               Logan looked down where his heartbeat was causing his shirt to tremble in time, a bit elevated, but not that bad for him. He scowled and moved his drink—a large canned energy drink—in front of him, “What about-what are you doing?!”

               Virgil had stood and pressed two fingers to the pulse point on Logan’s neck, “Hold still and be quiet.” He watched his phone timer until it beeped, “Two hundred bpm!”

               “No it isn’t,” Roman said, standing up to check.

               Logan sat sullenly as they double and then triple-checked their results, “It really is two hundred. Logan that’s too fast!” Virgil said. “When’s the last time you had an Adderall?”

               Logan opened his mouth, but he couldn’t remember, so he scoffed, “Stop overreacting. It’s no big deal anyway.”

               His throat was dry, and he tried to clear it, taking a slow swallow of his energy drink and waving them off. “Logan maybe you shouldn’t be-“

               “Just shut up, Roman!” Logan sniped, then he closed his mouth and pinched his nose shut, trying to force air out of his lungs. After twenty seconds, Logan moved his hand and let out a long, slow breath, smiling, “There, nothing a vagal maneuver can’t fix. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve lost my appetite.”

               Logan stood up and—without any warning—fainted.

                 Logan winced against the bright overhead lights, trying to blink away the blurriness, but he didn’t have his glasses. He could hear voices, distant and muddled. ”…-es, ma’am. His two friends are beside themselves. If it’s going to be a while would you mind if th… alright. Yes ma’am he’s asleep now, but unfortunately I can’t administer anything you haven’t given me here… CBD oil? No Mrs. Berry we don’t… yes ma’am I’ll tell him.”

              Logan squeezed his eyes closed as the curtain around his cot rustled and the nurse checked on him. “I know you’re awake, Mr. Berry. Your mother said your friends could come and sit with you until she gets here. The band director already gave them a pass. Feel like visitors?”

              Logan nodded, “’s bright.”

              “That’s what happens when you do whatever shit you’re doing and then wake up with a hangover in the nurse’s office,” the nurse said. “But, I’ll turn half the lights off. Just try not to get rowdy some of us still have to work.”

              Logan sighed, but he did smile a bit when the lights went out, only to jump as Virgil and Roman crowded in beside him, “Fuck, Logan you scared the shit out of me!” Virgil scolded.

              “How are you feeling?” Roman asked.

               “Mom’s on the way,” he rasped.

               “I got it,” Roman said. “I already took it all out of your bag.”

               Logan looked to see the nurse, but her desk was empty and she was standing in the hallway. Virgil glanced over, “She didn’t hear y-“

               “Give me one,” Logan said.

               Virgil shook his head, “Logan no fucking way! You just fainted!”

               Logan squeezed his eyes shut, “Please, I’m gonna have to go all week… maybe longer, please! Roman? Please?”

               Roman glanced at the nurse, then pulled the curtain, fumbling in his jacket pocket.

               “No!” Virgil hissed as Roman pulled out the bottle and offered it to Logan.

               “I c-can’t swallow it,” Logan said thickly. “Not whole.”

               Roman met Virgil’s eyes and ignored his expression of horrified disappointment. He popped two of the pills into his mouth and chewed it, wincing at the taste—though it was nothing compared to the things that he tasted on any given day. He gathered as much saliva as he could and then bent over Logan, pressing their lips together. Logan wrapped his arms around Roman’s neck to hold him in place, and he licked the Adderall out of Roman’s mouth like a dying man. The kiss was slow at first, mechanical, but it became something else as they stayed close, and soon Virgil was checking the nurse’s whereabouts again as the other two made out, Roman letting out little pleasant moans against Logan’s lips.

               Virgil cleared his throat loudly when the nurse returned, and Roman straightened, fixing his shirt. Logan closed his eyes again and waited for the meds to kick in a bit more. “How long til she gets here?”

               “Nurse said an hour,” Logan said. “Or that’s what I think she said. Mom’s got clinical trials today so it’s not something she can just leave.”

               “They should have sent you to a hospital, not left you here with your dealer,” Virgil growled, glaring daggers at Roman.

               Roman sighed as he pocketed the pills, “Look, I’ll keep these in my bag until I get to come see you, ok? Then I’ll leave them behind that loose siding under your window. Just don’t be stupid. Maybe this is a good opportunity to quit.”

               Logan wanted to argue, but his lips were still kiss swollen and the taste of Adderall soothed him, so he just nodded. “I’ll think about it.”

               “I love you,” Roman said, lifting Logan’s hand to kiss it, then he ducked out.

               “He’s just as bad as you are,” Virgil said. “For enabling you like that. I can’t stand it, Logan. I can’t stand what you two do to each other.”

               “Are you jealous?” Logan asked; his words were cold, but so was he, and the last thing he needed was a lecture.

               Virgil winced, “Fuck this,” he muttered. He turned and pushed the curtain out of the way, leaving the office—and Logan—in buzzing silence.

                 Logan woke up on Friday, late in the evening. His parents were home, judging from the voices downstairs, and he could remember faded scenes with them over the past two days. He’d missed school, missed band practice, missed the meteor shower and—judging from the raging head and body ache—enough Adderall to start withdrawal. He sighed and slid to the edge of the bed, sneaking over to his window. He’d just reached to open it when something grabbed his ankle in the dark, pulling him. He hit the carpet and was dragged, scrabbling uselessly at the carpet until suddenly he was on his stomach on smooth, cold stone. He squinted in the low light as he stumbled to his feet, until someone—or something—handed him his glasses. He quickly put them on and found himself standing in front of a stranger, “Hello?”

               “He was finally awake!”

               Virgil and Roman stepped out into the light and Logan took half a step back, “I’ve never hallucinated these two before,” he muttered to himself.

               “We aren’t hallucinations, Logan,” Roman said. “We’ve been waiting for you to wake up all week.”

               “I didn’t really get the chance to tell you about Remus because you fainted at school and… well I took off. But he’s my friend.”

               “Our friend,” Roman said. “He’s been keeping us up all night pretty regularly. You should love him.”

               “By the way,” Remus said. “Whatever they have you on, those brownies are delicious. I stole five while waiting for you to wake up.”

               Virgil rolled his eyes but it was an affectionate gesture, “Glad to see you again, L. I’m… sorry I… whatever, I’m sorry.”

               Logan opened his mouth but Virgil stepped forward and hugged him, and as soon as Logan felt him, he knew he wasn’t hallucinating. “Virgil… I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have-“

               “Yeah what did you say to him?” Roman asked. “He was mad the whole night!”

               “Mind your business,” Logan said when Virgil’s cheeks turned red. “So um… Remus, huh? What is he?”

               “No idea,” Virgil said. “A monster from under my bed, but he said he can get us into the amusement park through the staff emergency sleeping quarters.”

               “Theoretically,” Roman reminded.

               “Close enough!” Remus said, clapping his hands together. “So, Logan, would you like to come on some potentially life threatening rides with us, without any security or safety measures taken?”

               Logan smiled when Virgil nudged him, “I guess so, as long as I don’t break my glasses.”

[feferipeixes]

Jay’s Brother (3/?)

Jay has been working in the cobalt mines her entire life. Against all odds, she’s still alive when so many others have fallen. It’s been decades since she’s had anyone she could call family. And then, out of nowhere, a demon shows up and says he’s her brother.

Naturally, she’s upset.

Chapter 3: Hope Against Hope (link to chapter 1) (2)

Shout out to my awesome beta reader, @toothpastecanyon!

(See the most updated version on AO3!)

===

Chunk.

The girl slammed her axe into the blue rock in front of her. The rock resisted -- gaining an ugly scratch but otherwise surviving unharmed. It seemed to sneer at her, seemed to say, “What, having a hard time? Getting too old for this?”

She groaned in response. Dropping her pickaxe, she straightened up, and heard a creak as something shifted in her back. She nearly doubled over again, but caught herself by resting a hand on the cavern wall. She breathed in through her nose and tried to swallow the hacking cough that she felt wriggling its way out of her. Everything was okay. She could do this. She did it every day.

Still… it seemed harder that day than usual. She glanced down at her pickaxe -- an old rusty tool that seemed to be aging before her eyes -- and then peered out at the other workers around her. They all raised their axes in unison -- brought them high above their heads before each clicking a button that shot beams of energy into their respective hunks of cobalt.

“Hey, wait a minute.” She could barely recognize her voice when it came out. It sounded about as bad as her pickaxe looked. “What’s the big setup? Why do you all have quantum axes and I’ve got this piece of junk?”

Every worker turned to look at her. “Because you’re obsolete, Miss Du,” they said together, their collective voice echoing through the cave like it was a scream in her ear.

“And junk like you doesn’t deserve more than junk in turn,” came a voice from behind her.

The girl tried to gasp, but what came out instead was an awful, spluttering cough. She whipped around to find her shift manager looming over her, staring down with a wicked grin.

“Tick-tock,” he purred, pulling up a clock display on the wall panel and thrumming his fingers against it. “You’re slowing down. If you don’t increase your output we’ll have no choice but to -”

Knock knock knock.

Her manager’s mouth was still moving, but no sound was coming out. Instead, there was a steady knocking coming from behind her. Confused, she glanced back to see a door standing freely in the middle of the room. She could see it rattle in time with the knocking, and there was a soft, white glow pouring in from the edges of the frame.

The girl stepped toward it. Her manager tried to stop her -- jumped in her path with fire in his eyes and snakes pouring out of his mouth -- but she ignored him. He wasn’t a threat anymore. All she could hear was the knocking.

She brushed her fingers along the access pad, and it slid open. A brilliant, blinding light stood on the other side. He was much brighter than Prima, but she had no trouble looking at him.

He stepped across the doorframe and extended a hand to her. “Let’s get out of here.”

She went to grab his hand, but hesitated. “I don’t know. Why should I trust you?”

His smile flickered, plunging her momentarily back into darkness. “What?”

“I don’t know you.” She sensed her manager reaching over her shoulder with a slimy tentacle, and she slapped it away. “But I know this. I know how to survive this.”

“But... this is awful. Why would you want to stay here? What happened to your dreams of exploring the cosmos?”

The girl looked up and saw the night sky projected onto the cave ceiling, semi-transparent like a hologram. It was beautiful, but it made her feel emptier than ever.

“Could I really do it? Could you actually take me there?”

“Anywhere,” he breathed. “Anywhere you want.”

She sighed. “I need some time to think about it, alright? Give me some time.”

The star nodded. “Of course. Just… let me know, alright? It’s lonely in here.”

She tried to respond, but her throat fought against her. She shuddered with pain, clutched her stomach, and a rough, stuttering cough heaved its way out of her. She looked up at him, his hand still extended out to her, his smile weak but there nonetheless. Cautiously, she reached up and accepted his invitation.

Quick as a whistle, he pulled her up to her feet. The pain was gone, her breathing once again simple, and she could swear the air around her was sparkling. She stared at her hands, which suddenly felt so strong and capable, and gulped.

“Thanks,” she said.

He only bowed in response. He spun around to leave, filling the room with a brilliant display of colors for a brief moment. Then he vanished, and it was dark again. She was holding a pickaxe again. Her manager was behind her, fury radiating out of his empty eye sockets. The world was her burden once more.

And yet it was so pointless. So insignificant.

Gritting her teeth, she turned around to face her manager. Before he could say a word, she reached out and grabbed his head with both hands. She felt the power pulsing through her, felt the fear radiating off him in her grasp. She smiled, because for once, she was in control.

She smiled, and she squeezed his skull as hard as she could, letting the slime ooze over her fingers and waiting for the moment when it would POP -

---

Jay gasped and opened her eyes.

It was a dream. It was a dream and she was awake now and she definitely hadn’t snapped at work and killed her manager. She let out a sigh of relief. Everything was fine. It was just another one of those weird dreams she’d been having for the past couple of days. No matter how much she hated Kanif and her job, physically attacking him would do her far more harm than good.

Although -- she had to admit that it felt really good to take her frustrations out on Kanif. Maybe the dreams weren’t so bad, as long as she never really acted on them.

As she gradually returned to consciousness, Jay began to realize that she wasn’t in her bed. The pillow she was using was flat and rough. Her glasses were already on, and the room was bright. She wasn’t at home at all -- she was at the library.

She jolted upright. There was a tearing noise -- a page of the book she’d been sleeping and apparently drooling on had stuck to her face. She pulled it off and examined it.

In folklore, a deer is a mythical beast that is believed to appear in times of need to guide lost souls to safety. It is often depicted as tall, furry, hoofed, quadrupedal, and antlered. According to the Encyclopedia of Ancient Creature Lore, a deer is an ordinary pony that has been touched by a divine being and granted immortality.

Jay grimaced. None of that made sense. She picked up the book she’d been resting on and read the cover -- A History of Magical Creatures. Why was she reading… Oh yeah.

It had been three days since she’d met Alcor on the way home from work. Since then, the candles and magic circle he’d left her had remained untouched in the corner of her room as she wracked her brain for reasons to contact him again. There was so much about him that didn’t make sense -- a normal person would’ve dismissed him entirely at this point -- but some part of her was curious. Some part of her wanted to believe him.

One of the things that continued to confuse her was his claim that he was a demon. She’d been combing both the library and the Interweb for any information on what a demon was, and after three days she still had nothing to show for it. She’d woken up early that morning so she could go to the library again before work, but apparently her lack of sleep had caught up with her and…

Jay jumped out of her chair. Work. She checked her phone and -- heck, it was 12th trentile. She was very late for work. Panicking, she dropped the book and darted out of the building. The torn page she’d slept on fluttered slowly to the ground behind her.

It was 12:25 when she made it to the lobby of the mine, hoping against hope that no one had missed her. She already knew her pay would be docked, but if Kanif saw how late she was she'd surely get fired, and she couldn’t let that happen. He'd been mysteriously absent the past couple of days so maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't be there -

Her hope vanished quickly when she breached the double doors and saw Kanif staring up at her with a furious look on his face.

“I’msosorryI’mlateKanifsir!” Jay blurted, out of breath from running. “It won’t happen again, I -”

“Rhysti-Du!” Kanif barked, cutting her off. “I thought I made it very clear to you what would happen if you were late again! Tick-tock!”

“Sir, please, I can’t lose this job. I’ll work late again!”

Kanif grinned at her, words starting to form on his lips, and then -- something happened.

Jay’s vision flickered. The air suddenly felt very thick, like they were standing in honey. She refocused her eyes to see Kanif’s smile dead on the ground, replaced with a look of abject horror. He took a step back and hit the wall behind him. Jay could’ve sworn he was trembling. He looked so weak and puny -- kind of like in her dream. Her dream, when her hands had felt so full of power. Her dream -- or was it real life? -- where something inside of her had whispered go… do it… do it now…

Then the moment passed. The pressure in the air was gone, and Jay couldn’t remember what she’d been thinking about a moment ago. But Kanif was still backed into the wall looking as scared as if he’d just seen a monster.

“Mr. Kanif… sir?” she asked nervously. “Are you alright?”

He didn’t respond at first, just looked both ways a few times. “Yes, I’m fine, Jay!” he choked out eventually. His words were studded with nervous laughter and he could barely keep his eyes on her. “Everything is up to code. About being late today -- we can just pretend that didn’t happen, do you hear me? That’d be exemplary! Get along to work now, there’s mining to do.”

“Uhh…” She looked behind her to make sure there wasn’t some other person there named Jay that Kanif might’ve been talking to. “Alright…?”

“Great! Off you go!”

He then scampered out of the room more quickly than she’d ever seen him move. For a few minutes she could only gape at the space where he’d stood. Never in the decade that he’d been her manager had he ever shown her any mercy for lateness or mistakes of any kind. It was baffling.

Something had happened -- she thought to herself as she collected her mining equipment and set off to her post -- something had happened a few days ago and since then her life had gotten weird. She wanted answers, and she was beginning to think there was only one person who had them.

---

There was an electronic chime as Jay pushed open the door to the diner. A cheaply decorated room greeted her on the other side. The atmosphere was sleepy -- most people were eating silently, with the odd couple sitting together in a booth and whispering in each other’s ears. None of this was out of the ordinary.

Jay stepped over to the counter and sat down on a stool. A couple of people sitting nearby glanced at her -- people she’d never met but must have seen countless times before -- but they returned quickly to their food. She looked around for the waitress -- they really needed more than one, but for some reason couldn’t seem to afford another -- before spotting her at the other end of the room, taking someone’s order. She gave her a little wave, and turned to look out the window while she waited.

The world outside was still lit, thanks to Jay getting out of work a trentile earlier than she had the previous day. The view out of the diner’s front window was mostly occluded by the shops on the other side of the street, but there was a small alley between the laundromat and the convenience store through which she could appreciate the setting star. The sky was awash with color -- the greenish-blue of day replaced by a brilliant orange, soon to fade away into the saddest pink.

It was beautiful, the small slice of the sky she could see while waiting to order her food. It was beautiful and it was filled with so many memories of lying in the grass watching the sky, hand-in-hand with Akko or Sunil or Evan. These days, she never really got to watch Prima set. She wondered if maybe she should try waiting a bit before grabbing food after work, so she could spend some time outside just letting the colors swirl around her, just thinking and dreaming and hoping and -

“Jay?”

The sound of snapping fingers brought Jay back to the present. The waitress -- Gnern or Gnert or something -- was staring at her with a weird expression on her face.

Jay grimaced. “What?”

“I said, can I take your order?”

“Oh. Yes. Of course.” She shook her head. “Sorry about that. I’ll have… uh… the usual. Slashnorts with umbrella broccoli. Actually, no, wait. Make that umbrella pipsqueaks instead.”

The waitress nodded and made a complicated gesture at the notepad she was holding, which responded by dinging. Then she cocked her head at Jay. “How are you doing, pip? Holding in there?”

Jay blinked. “Uh. What does that mean?”

“You just looked distracted, is all. I don’t mind it, I mean. They say that’s supposed to happen to old folks, right?”

“I…” Jay paused. “I think I read that once.”

She tilted her head slightly to catch view of herself in the mirror behind the waitress. She studied her wavy grey locks -- once a deep brown, the color had started draining out of them years ago and they were almost white at this point. Her skin was wrinkled where it had once been smooth. She hadn’t needed glasses when she started working in the mines, but at some point everything had started getting blurry, and before she knew it, she was in the convenience store buying a cheap pair of rectangular frames.

She knew that these were things that happened when you got old, but it still felt like she was changing somehow -- like the person she had been was being squeezed from her and soon she’d become something else entirely. It was one thing knowing theoretically that people changed when they got old and it was another to actually become an old person herself. And the idea that her mind could be changing too as a part of it was very stressful.

“Yeah…” she continued. “Maybe all of... this... is because I’m getting old.”

The waitress snorted. “Pip, I’m old, and you’re twice my age. I think you borrowed the kilter on ‘getting’ old a few decades ago.”

Jay frowned. “Yeah, yeah. Are you here to take my order or gawk at me?”

“I wasn’t -” she started, but hesitated at the annoyed expression on Jay’s face. “Your order, I guess. I’ll be right back hun.”

She quickly turned away and walked into the kitchen. Jay winced at how hurt she’d sounded -- she hadn’t meant to come off so brusque but the few days of confusion and frustration must’ve taken a toll on her. She didn’t want to take that out on anyone else. The waitress stepped back into the room a moment later, carrying a couple of plates of food on her arm. She started placing them down in front of other customers sitting at the counter.

Jay cleared her throat. “Hey, Gnern.” The waitress glanced up, looking nonplussed. “I’m sorry I was being rude. I’ve had a long few days, and I might’ve been kind of annoyed because I was trying to research something earlier and was coming up with nothing, blah blah blah.”

The waitress put down the last plate she was carrying and cocked her head at Jay. “Well, pip, my name’s Gnert, not Gnern,” (DARN IT), “but I accept your apology. What’s eating at you?”

Jay stared at her blankly until what she’d said clicked in her brain. “Wait. You’re asking me about my day?”

“Yeah. You’re in here a lot and you don’t really speak up much. What’s eating at you?”

“Uh…” Jay mentally juggled images of all the weird stuff that had been happening to her. There was no way she could even begin to explain most of it. “Well, this’ll sound strange, but… Have you ever heard of a demon?”

“Oh, yeah. Is that all?”

Jay felt like she’d been kicked in the gut. “What? You- how- how do you know? I spent so much time in the library and I found nothing!”

Gnert shrugged. “Mom told me when I was young. It’s an old story for kids, you know? You wouldn’t find anything like that in the library.”

When Jay could only wordlessly flap her mouth open and shut like a fish, Gnert laughed and leaned over the counter. “Alright, pip. Here’s the story. I don’t remember any names or morals or nothin’ but I remember the basics. They say a demon is a star that fell out of the sky and has to live on the ground like a person.”

Jay felt a tingly sensation creep up across her neck. She nodded at Gnert. “Go on.”

“Well, the star is lonely down on the ground. It can’t ever go back where it came from. It misses its family in the sky so bad that it turns to wickedness.”

Jay furrowed her brow. “Wickedness? Really?”

Gnert shrugged. “It’s a story for kids. There’s always a good guy and a bad guy.”

Jay remembered Alcor telling her that most demons weren’t as nice as him. The tingling feeling spread from her neck to her torso. “Okay. Go on.”

“You know how you can go wish on a star? They say that’s because stars are made out of magic. And that means demons are too.”

Jay saw herself turning around and around and finding Alcor in front of her no matter what she did. Her arms were tingling now.

“The demons try to trick people by giving them nice things and doing favors with their magic.”

His words rang in Jay’s ears. I can’t really do magic for free.

“And then right when you’re not expecting it… BAM!” Gnert slammed her hands on the counter. “They gobble you right up!”

Gnert started laughing, but it felt very far away. The tingling had spread across Jay’s entire body at this point, and with the tingling came a thought. A memory. An image floated into her brain of Alcor crouching down next to her, her hand in his, his tongue lapping away at her cut -- lick, lick, lick -- and there was blood on his teeth. Her blood.

Something in her brain flipped over. She jumped out of her stool, and banged her hip against the underside of the counter. “Frick- agh!” she yelled, barely avoiding falling over in pain.

Half of the diner looked up at her shout. Gnert dashed around the counter to her with a panicked expression on her face. “Jay, I’m sorry, I got too excited about that story. Let me help you.”

“No, stop, I’m fine,” Jay grunted. She grabbed the edge of the counter to pull herself up. “It wasn’t the story. I’m just old, haha, remember? I’m fine.”

Gnert seemed torn between offering her more help and leaving her be. Deflating, she returned to the other side of the counter, and started fiddling with cooking instruments, all without taking her eyes off of Jay.

It took a minute for Jay’s breath to go back to normal. Her hip should’ve hurt quite a bit, but it was barely registering to her in her mind. She was too preoccupied with Gnert’s story. Her thoughts were circling around and around like a swarm of ringwats. She knew it had only been a fairytale, but at least some of it had to be true because she really had met a strange man that could do magical favors. And if some of it was true, she couldn’t help but wonder…

The star is lonely down on the ground. It can’t ever go back where it came from.

She wanted to go home. “Is my order almost done?” she asked.

Gnert flinched, almost dropping the pot of coffee she was refilling. “Sorry. Let me check on that for you.”

Jay watched her go, and felt a funny tickle in her mind. “Actually,” she added, almost absentmindedly, “can you throw in a bar of candy with my order?”

Gnert looked surprised. “I can definitely do that. What kind would you like?”

“Uh…” Jay looked at the pile of candy against the far wall, and realized that she hadn’t eaten candy in a really long time. “Wow, I don’t know. Surprise me?”

Gnert nodded, and rushed off to gather Jay’s food. She was back a minute later, and Jay quickly paid for the meal and left. She could still feel the whole diner’s eyes on her as she walked out the door and down the street.

It wasn’t until she was a couple of blocks away that Jay realized what she’d done. She looked at the candy bar in her bag -- a Sneakers bar -- and slapped her forehead. What was she doing, spending hard-earned money on candy so she could call a guy she barely knew and wasn’t sure she could trust? What was she doing spending money on the chance... to have... a family again?

Jay stopped in her tracks. Was that really what this was? The chance to have a family again? She’d gone so long without anyone she could call family. Everyone she’d ever loved was dead -- or at least, in the case of her sister, probably dead. From what he’d told her, it sounded like he was in the same situation. If she was his chance to have a family again, maybe he was hers too.

Feeling her resolve strengthen, Jay rushed the rest of the way home. She dropped her meal onto her bed and clapped her hands in front of her computer. Her computer seemed to struggle to turn on, but eventually the screen illuminated and displayed the poem she’d started writing a few days. She felt like the breath was being squeezed out of her as she reread it.

Harsh cold nights in the recesses of space Plucked right out, leaving me without a trace Death defied, now she’s on her way back home One last hope that I won’t be so alone

She’d had her sister in mind when she’d written it, but as she turned Alcor’s words over in her head, she wondered if maybe it wasn’t about him instead. Maybe he was the family that she’d been hoping against hope for all of this time.

Jay took a deep breath, and made a decision.

There wasn’t very much space on the floor, but she managed to find a spot big enough for her to completely unfold the magic circle picture Alcor had given her. She arranged the candles so that they sat on the symbols that went around the edge. She activated the lighter on her phone and lit the candles one by one. Almost done. She looked around for the bag from the diner -- it was still on her bed. She reached in and grabbed the candy bar. It was light, but she felt out of breath anyway. She unwrapped it and dropped it into the center of the circle.

“Hey, Alcor,” she said, trying to sound confident. “I’ve thought about it. I want to give this a try.”

Instantly, all of the lights in the room went out. The candles lit up by themselves shortly after, but their flames were blue instead of yellow. A prickly presence came over her -- the fuzzy feeling she’d been having on and off for the past few days. And finally, a smile appeared in the middle of the room.

“Jay!” Alcor exclaimed. He hopped over the candles and wrapped her in a vice grip hug. “You mean it?”

The light gradually returned to the room, and in the light she was reminded of everything that was wrong. His positively ancient clothing, his pointed ears, his wings like windows into the sky. How was it possible that this was her brother? It didn’t make sense. This was madness. She couldn’t be doing this.

“Yeah,” she breathed. She hesitated for a moment, and then hugged him back. “Yeah, I mean it.”

(AO3 link)

[ckret2]

Liberty Island’s Decisive Battle: Godzilla vs. Trypticon!

Fandom: Transformers Prime, Godzilla, Rescue Bots Characters: Godzilla, Trypticon; also featuring, in order of descending importance, Ratchet, Starscream, Fowler, Miko, Blades, Dani, Heatwave, Soundwave, Knock Out, Raf, and Jack. Words: 5400 Summary: The Nemesis has been revived by dark energon, and reactivates its cloaking field just before Ratchet can send human infiltrators on board to retrieve the Iacon database and see where it’s headed. After a scouting mission, they discover that the Nemesis has transformed itself back into Trypticon, and is heading toward New York City. Fortunately, Agent Fowler’s got an asset in Japan that might just be able to take it on... Notes: What’s up I’ve seen 3.1 Godzilla movies and read way too many wiki pages today. This is unproofed because I wanted to 1) post this immediately, and 2) surprise my usual beta with it. Enjoy the typos.

UPDATE AUGUST 17 2019: We are now proofread. Huzzah.

###

The good news was the Nemesis's cloaking field was down.

The bad news was the Nemesis was alive, speaking, decoding the Iacon database at a ludicrous pace, stasis locking any Cybertronian that came in range of it, and blazing across the Atlantic toward what seemed to be the northeast coast of the United States.

So, basically everything else was bad news.

Fowler said, "But it status locked—"

"Stasis locked," Ratchet snapped.

"—Stasis locked the Decepticons too, right? I think that's another bit of good news."

"Hardly," Ratchet grumbled, not looking down as he locked onto the Decepticon ship's ground bridge coordinates. "As it is right now, the Nemesis is more dangerous than the Decepticons are. I'd rather have them."

"Sure, but, less dangerous than the Nemesis and the Decepticons working together would be, right?"

Ratchet gave Fowler an exasperated look. He shrugged. "I'm just saying. It could be worse."

Ratchet shook his head and turned back to his console. Then swore under his breath. "It just got worse."

The kids, waiting for the bridge to open for them, looked up at Ratchet. "Why, what happened?" Jack asked.

Ratchet gestured angrily at the screen. "The Nemesis figured out how to reactivate its cloaking," he said. "As if we needed more bad news."

Miko groaned, throwing her hands up. "Great!"

"Can you calculate where it's going to be based on its path?" Raf asked, walking closer to Ratchet. "We know where it was a moment ago. We could figure out its speed and direction based on those records and open a bridge—"

"If the ship figured out it needed to start cloaking, it probably also figured out we might have been tracking it and altered its trajectory. If I tried to ground bridge you now, you would plummet from mid-air into the ocean."

The solemn declaration was met with silence.

Miko asked, "What if you bridged us through with like, jetpacks or something?"

Ratchet scoffed. "Absurd. We don't have..." And then he fell silent, thoughtful. He moved to the comm console and started typing.

"Are we getting jetpacks?!" Miko asked.

"No. Hush."

Raf climbed the mezzanine stairs so he wouldn't have to keep looking up at Ratchet. "Who are you calling?"

"The only flying Cybertronian left on Earth."

Jack grimaced. "Starscream?"

"Of course not Starscream. Anyway, he doesn't have his t-cog, he's not—" The line connected, and Ratchet focused on the comm. "Heatwave. We have an emergency. Can you put Blades on?"

###

"I really, really, really don't like this," Blades squeaked. "There is so. Much. Water."

"Relax," Dani said. "We've done flights over the ocean hundreds of times."

"But not like this! Over the deepest, darkest part of the ocean, hundreds of miles from shore in every direction..."

Half standing with her forehead pressed to Blades's window so she could see the ocean below, Miko continued for him, "One seagull stuck in your rotor away from a watery grave."

Blades whined. Dani shot Miko an exasperated look. "I'm beginning to understand why Ratchet warned me not to let you come along." Miko turned to give her a mischievous grin. "Try not to make my partner faint, okay? Then we're all in trouble."

"Focus," Heatwave said over the comm. "You're scouting for a rogue Decepticon warship, remember."

Somehow managing to sound even more terrified, Blades said, "Oh. Right."

"Nothing visible so far," Dani said. "We're following along the Nemesis's last known flight path. We'll let you know if we spot anything."

"Miko, could you stop drumming your fingers on me?" Blades asked. "It's making me more nervous."

She sighed, flopped back in her seat, and crossed her arms and legs. "There's nothing out there," she grumbled. "I thought we'd have found it by now."

"We've only been at this a few minutes," Dani assured here. "And this thing is huge, right? As long as we keep headed along its last known trajectory, we're bound to find—" She fell silent, leaning forward and squinting. "Blades, are you seeing what I'm seeing?"

"I think I am. I wish I wasn't."

"What?" Miko leaped back to her feet, leaning forward again.

On the horizon, a black speck appeared, as if rising out of the water. "That can't be it," Dani muttered. "The Nemesis is a ship—like, a space ship, right? Shouldn't it be flying?"

"Maybe it crashed again?" Miko suggested. "It was grounded earlier today. Before it started paralyzing 'bots and talking to us."

"It doesn't look like a ship, though," Blades said.

They fell silent as they slowly drew up on the black form protruding from the water. Quietly, as though afraid it might hear, Dani said, "We're seeing something, Heatwave. But I don't think it's the Nemesis."

"What is it?" Heatwave asked.

"Well, it's— it looks like..."

Blades cut in, "It looks like Trex, but way bigger and eviler."

"Well—yeah. That."

Heatwave was silent for a moment. "... Blades, have you ever heard of Trypticon?"

Blades squeaked.

"I'll take that as a yes."

"What's Trypticon?" Miko whispered. Dani shrugged.

"But I thought Trypticon died, like, a zillion years ago!" Blades said.

"It did," Heatwave said.

"Then how..."

"I don't know."

Miko sucked in a breath. "Hold on. If this Trypticon dude is from your planet, then it can turn into something else, right? Like... a ship? A Decepticon ship?"

"Yep," Heatwave said. "Just like a ship. But it's been dead. It shouldn't be able to transform."

Miko said quickly, "The Decepticons have been throwing around dark energon like cheap rock candy."

"'Dark energon'?" Dani echoed.

"It raises the dead. If they used it to try to fix their ship when it crashed—"

"Hold on," Heatwave said, "exactly how much dark energon do the Decepticons have?"

Blades shouted, "You mean that Trypticon is a zombie?!"

"So, hold on, back up," Dani said, eyes fixed on the machine growing ever larger before them. "You're telling me that the Decepticon warship we've been looking for is also a giant zombie dinosaur?"

Unable to contain her mounting excitement, Miko pumped her fists in the air with a shrill cheer. "This is awesome! This is the coolest thing ever!"

"I think it sees us!" Blades shouted. Slowly, laboriously, the monster was turning its head, glancing back over its shoulder. Blades stopped in mid-air so quickly that Miko stumbled and landed on the floor, and then he started flying backwards. "Bridge us back, bridge us back, bridge us back—"

Two pulsing purple plasma beams shot out of its optics toward Blades. They only barely backed through a ground bridge in time to avoid them, and crashed, rotors still spinning, in the Autobot base.

###

Ratchet paced, mouth set in a grim line. "At the height of his strength, Trypticon was almost two miles high. We don't have anything that could compare to..."

"I can't say whether or not he's really this Trypticon, but, rough estimate? I would put the guy we saw at only five hundred feet or so," Dani said.

Huddled up under a massive blue tarp, staring into the distance, Blades mumbled, "Five hundred scary, scary feet."

"The Decepticons probably hollowed out most of his internals back when they reformatted his corpse into their flagship," Heatwave said. "If he transformed back to his original height, his armor would be paper thin and he'd be mostly hollow. Maybe he had to reformat his robot mode to compact himself."

"What if it's heading toward Griffin Rock," Blades mumbled, mostly to himself. "It's gonna squash the island."

"It's not going to squash the island," Heatwave said firmly, although it wasn't clear whether Blades heard him through his terror. "We'll just—figure something out."

"Will we really?" Ratchet snapped. "Something that can stop a threat that big? Without Optimus?"

"Without Optimus. My team's been managing for years with only occasional contact with Optimus and the rest of your team—"

"Managing to rescue cats from trees, Heatwave. Handling even the average Decepticon threat, much less this, is far outside your—"

"Everyone be quiet a moment!" Fowler shouted. Ratchet and Heatwave turned to look at him. He waved his phone, "I've gotta make a call. I might just have something that can take on this thing."

The room stared at him. "You've got to be joking," Ratchet said. "The United States government has something that can take on a five-hundred-foot monster?"

"First, technically, the Japanese government's got it," Fowler said, "and second, it's more like three hundred something, but it's very good at punching above its weight class. Now pipe down, I've gotta be able to hear." He punched in a number, held his phone up, put a finger over his over ear, and turned around. There were a few seconds of silence; and then he said, "Hey, Pete! It's Bill. Listen, I— Hold on, I'd love to catch up, but we've got a developing situation in the Atlantic, and we need a heavy hitter. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. The heaviest. Listen, do you or your aunt still have that little box, or—? ... Ah." He sounded disappointed. "Do you think she might know—? Okay, give me her number, I'll see what she knows. Thanks. Hey, call me in a few days, we should get caught up."

He hung up, punched in another number, and held the phone back up to his head. Turning back to the Autobots, who were looking at him quizzically, he explained, "Me and Pete were Rangers together. His aunt got my foot in the door with Unit: E, she was working with them because of— Oh, hi, Dr. Darian. Bill Fowler. Yeah, years, I know. Listen—I've got a budding national emergency out in the Atlantic, I was wo— oh, I wish I could tell you more, but it's five hundred feet of classified information. Do you still have that little box you—? Yeah, it's going on right now. Thing could make landfall on the east coast in under five hours. ... Ah. Do you know who does? ... Sure, call him. Just put me on hold, I'll wait." Fowler covered the mouthpiece. "This box could take a while to get—if we can get it. Do we have anything that can slow Trypticon down? I'm not talking about fighting it—just distracting it. Something that can annoy it for a while."

"This is ridiculous," Ratchet said. "What can any humans come up with that can take on Trypticon? What's this 'box'? What's it for?"

Fowler opened his mouth, froze, and stared at Ratchet a moment. Then he said, "That's classified."

Ratchet threw up his hands with a disgusted noise.

"Look," Heatwave said. "In my experience, even if humans can't match us with the sheer strength of their firepower, they're more than our equal in inventiveness and ingenuity. I trust Agent Fowler if he says he's got something that can take on a five hundred foot walking warship. So if there's any way we can buy him some time, I'm all for it. What've we got?"

Ratchet glanced between Heatwave and Fowler; and then grimaced. "Unfortunately, I've got just the thing." He headed over to the comm station. "This is Ratchet to... Starscream. I wanna make a bargain. I can get you a t-cog—if you can show off your aerial acrobatics to a runaway warship."

###

"Primus below, look at him," Starscream said, circling in the sky above Trypticon. "He's mangled himself in order to transform. You can see several shattered decks sticking out of his back."

Over the comm, Dani said, "When we saw them, I sort of thought those were—you know—spines."

Haughtily, Starscream said, "Well, you would think that, you're only human. But no. They're clearly broken. If he transforms back—and I don't know if he can, at this point—he'll have a gut full of splintered structures."

"That's good news, right?" Raf asked. "It means he's stuck in one mode. He can't just fly off."

"I can certainly confirm that being confined to bipedal mode greatly restricts one's mobility." Starscream did an aileron roll, just for the sheer relief that he could, and dove down. "All right. I'm going in—to heroically risk my life for the sake of the people of your miserable little planet. And as we agreed, doctor—"

"Yes, yes," Ratchet snapped. "The Autobots will owe you a favor for this."

"Although we shouldn't have to," Heatwave grumbled. "As long as this thing is rampaging, your entire army is in stasis lock. You're helping yourself as much as you are us—that should be favor enough."

"Perhaps," Starscream said lightly. "But the Decepticons and I aren't exactly on speaking terms lately. So I do appreciate the extra incentive to do this."

"Oh, I'm sure that you do."

Faintly in the background of the comm, Starscream could hear Miko ask, "Hey Heatwave, did you know that when you get sarcastic, you and Starscream sound exactly alike?"

"Excuse me—"

"All right!" Starscream shouted venomously, and Trypticon laboriously lifted his head to look at him. "Listen up, you overgrown undead Dinobot. I don't care what you, Megatron, or anyone else thinks—you were my ship to command and you remain my ship still. And as your commander, I demand that you halt at once! If you want to go another step forward, you'll have to get through me."

Watching Starscream, Trypticon actually slowed to a stop.

"Huh. I didn't think that would actually—"

And Trypticon's optics started glowing brighter.

"Ah. Well. It was a long shot. Consider Trypticon sufficiently distracted, Autobots. I'll do what I can to slow him down." And with that grim but heroic declaration, Starscream closed the comm line.

Thirty seconds later, he was shrieking in terror and babbling apologies as he barrel rolled and looped to dodge Trypticon's stasis locking laser optics.

###

Miko and Fowler huddled cheek-to-cheek with Fowler's phone between their ears. They perked up when the phone was answered. Fowler hissed to Miko, "Tell her hi—"

Miko waved him off, and brightly said, "Moshi moshi! Gojo-sensei desu ka? Hai. Mi—"

"Is it her?" Fowler hissed.

Miko hissed back, "Yeah, it's her. Sumimasen. Miko da, hajimemashite. Agent Fowler no yakusha da. Watashi-tachi ga Gojira no—"

"Ask her about the box," Fowler hissed.

"I'm trying!" Miko shoved his shoulder. "Back off, I don't have room to talk."

"I can't hear if I back off."

"I can't believe you don't have speaker phone. Why do you need to hear, you don't speak Japanese. Aa—sumimasen, Gojo-sensei. Gojira no bokkusu—"

"Is that 'box'?"

"Shhh!"

"What's taking so long?" Ratchet asked. "Does she have what you need, or—"

"Damare!" Miko snapped at them, so loud they involuntarily leaned back. Miko took the opportunity to snatch the phone from Fowler and continue her conversation sweetly, "Sumimasen, Fowler-san wa chotto urusai. Gojira no bokkusu wa—"

Fowler sighed, backed off, and crossed his arms.

A couple minutes later, Miko gave him a wink and a thumbs up. Fowler rushed up to her again. "Ask for the coordinates," he hissed. "We can ground bridge it where it's needed in seconds."

"Okay, but when we pick it up, I'm doing the talking," Miko whispered, before returning to her conversation.

Fowler trudged away and groaned. "I hope she's not giving away any classified information."

"She's just given Dr. Gojo a thirty second summary of our entire conflict on Earth," Ratchet said.

"You understood Japanese this whole time?!" Fowler demanded, followed shortly by, "You let her give out a summary?!"

Ratchet shrugged. "I thought she was talking to an ally."

Fowler groaned again.

###

"I think it's headed toward New York," Raf said into Jack's phone, looking at the map on his laptop. "It's slowed down a lot, but that's still where its trajectory is pointing."

Blades, still huddled under his tarp blanket but leaning over Raf's shoulder, said, "Everything always goes for New York."

"Then that's where we'll take the box," Fowler said. They were, at the moment, in Japan, picking up "the box" from Dr. Gojo. In the background, Raf could hear Miko saying, "I can't believe I'm going to get to see Gojira, he hasn't made landfall in, like, forever—"

"What's Gojira?" Raf asked.

Fowler snapped, "Classified! Miko, stop talking about the classified asset."

"Come on! It's not like everyone in New York won't be taking a billion pictures when he gets there—"

"Good point, we might have to arrange a media blackout. Thanks for the info, Raf."

"Hold on," Raf said. "Where is this 'asset' coming from?"

"That's classif—"

"I know but—it's important. I'm worried about whether it will get to New York before Trypticon."

Fowler hesitated. "We don't know where it is right now. But, it lives a few hundred miles south of Japan."

Raf zoomed out his map. "Can it fly?"

"Nnno."

In the back of the call, Miko piped up, "But I hear he can swim super fast!"

Raf looked at the map scale and mentally measured the distance from Japan to New York. "I sure hope so."

###

Miko and Fowler bridged to New York City. The box—a small metal cube with a single button—was turned on; and an undetectable signal began playing.

Undetectable to humans, at least.

Thousands of miles away, the beast it was designed to summon stirred.

###

Night was falling on Panama.

Slowly, from the Pacific Ocean, just south of Panama City, something monstrous rose from the sea. Water ran off of its head around scales the size of cars.

It waded into the entrance of the Panama Canal and narrowly passed beneath the Bridge of Americas, ducking low to avoid hitting the bridge two hundred feet above water.

With little difficulty, it simply stepped over the Miraflores locks, at one time climbing up onto the bank beside the canal to get around a cargo ship. It was heedless of the ever increasing number of helicopters drawn to its location, shining spotlights down on it, as though it were used to drawing the attention of such illuminated gnats and considered them no more important than a human would consider a field full of fireflies.

On it went, navigating the rest of the canal the same way—over more locks, through artificial lakes, under more bridges—with the eyes of Panama trained breathlessly upon it, terrified of what it might decide to do but even more terrified at the thought of aggravating it—until it made it to the Atlantic Ocean.

It sank peacefully beneath the waves, and was gone.

###

"Don't lean so far outside the windows," Fowler said. "Lady Liberty's going to see enough tonight without having to add a kid falling to death from her crown."

"But I don't want to miss a thing!" Miko said, borrowed binoculars trained on the horizon. "This battle is going to be a once-in-a-lifetime show and I am going to see every single detail!"

"A show," Fowler said indignantly. "That thing out there could completely destroy New York City!"

"Which would totally blow," Miko said, "but, if it does happen, I'm not going to not watch it." She leaned a bit further out the window—then started. "Hey! I think I see him on the horizon!"

"Which one?" Fowler leaned out the window next to Miko. "Trypticon or Godzilla?" He pulled the box out of his pocket for the dozenth time, checking again to make sure the button was still glowing.

"Dude. It's pronounced 'Gojira.'"

"It's Godzilla when he's in the Atlantic Ocean. It's like typhoons versus hurricanes."

"Whatever. Anyway, unless Gojira grew a bunch of glowing purple lights since the last time anyone saw him, I'm pretty sure it's Trypticon."

"Let me see." Fowler held out a hand, and Miko passed over the binoculars. He focused them on the shape on the horizon. Every once in a while, beams of light crackled from its eyes like distant lightning. "He's—he's huge."

"Five hundred feet, dude."

"Yeah, but, seeing it... Sweet mother of..."

From the sea in front of Trypticon, a second form rose up, a black silhouette in the bottom half of the binocular's view. Fowler lowered them to watch Godzilla rising from the ocean. Water surged away from him in a wave as he stood. Lights from the city dully illuminated his scales. He reared his head, roared, and turned toward the monster on the horizon.

Trypticon's jaw dropped, and a horrible metal screech answered Godzilla.

Slowly, relentlessly, legs churning the water, Godzilla waded out into New York Bay, charging toward Trypticon. Godzilla's dorsal fins lit up an icy blue, and he blasted a bright, cold light toward Trypticon.

Fowler's jaw dropped. Miko simply whispered, "Whoa."

For a moment, they watched in silence, as the two massive monsters collided.

Finally, Miko said, "Isn't Gojira's breath laser, like, radioactive?"

"Oh, yeah. We're both gonna get cancer."

###

Starscream sighed in relief as Trypticon switched his attention to... whatever in the world this undersized organic Trypticon was.

He had narrowly dodged hundreds of stasis beams from Trypticon's optics. As well as far too many bellowed taunts at him about how he was a pest, a nuisance, unworthy of Unicron's power and thus rejected for his weakness. Which sounded like a whole bunch of nonsense to Starscream (who, it should be noted, had been AWOL during the Decepticons' entire encounter with Unicron and hadn't had an opportunity to catch up on the news while he was on the run). But if Ratchet's report that Trypticon was hopped up on dark energon was anything to go by, the taunts said a lot about why the dark energon crystal hadn't taken in Starscream's spark as it had in Megatron's, and about whether or not "blood of Unicron" was just a fancy metaphorical name for dark energon. Apparently it wasn't as metaphorical as Starscream had assumed. Good thing it hadn't taken, then.

Now. What was he to do while Trypticon was fighting its new target and Starscream no longer had to serve as a distraction?

He circled above a couple of times, watching the battle, deciding what to do; and then dove down to Trypticon's back. He waited until Trypticon was grappling with the new monster and temporarily held in place; and then he transformed, dropped down onto the broken decks sticking out of its back, and slid down and inside.

###

Godzilla was three-fifths Trypticon's height.

That put him at the perfect height to blast his chest with a radioactive breath and dig his claws deep into his gut.

Trypticon slashed at Godzilla's face; his metal claws sank far deeper than any of the creatures Godzilla typically fought could reach. Godzilla seized the arm in his jaws before Trypticon could draw back, and cracked three teeth on the metal. That was fine. Godzilla's teeth would grow back. Based on Godzilla's experience, Trypticon's mangled right arm probably wouldn't.

This was far from the first metal doppelgänger Godzilla had fought. He hadn't lost to the others; he wasn't going to lose to this one, either. And this one had something that the others had lacked: a reactor core heart brimming with energy, much like Godzilla's own.

He planned to consume it or die trying.

###

"It's like a maze in here!" Starscream yelled. He was balanced precariously on one foot in a hallway that had turned into a nearly vertical incline, kicking at a damaged piece of wall. "This is ridiculous! I should have found the bridge ages ago!" Finally, the wall gave way, and Starscream climbed through it into a dark, cramped cavity. Trypticon had remained distracted enough by his new sparring partner that he hadn't reactivated his internal defenses; although Starscream had passed dozens of stasis locked or dead Vehicons, all in crumpled piles where they'd landed when Trypticon had transformed, no stasis beams had yet been aimed in Starscream's direction. All the same, he was glad to be out of a hallway and in the empty space between walls. It was less likely that there would be functional stasis beams in a gap like this. Right?

Eventually—after being unceremoniously slammed into a few hard surfaces as Trypticon rocked back and forth—Starscream managed to locate the bridge. None of the consoles responded to his inputs, curses, or heel kicks. Well, that was just fantastic, wasn't it? Perhaps he could try somewhere else. The engine room, maybe?

As he headed out of the bridge, he noticed Soundwave slumped on the floor, and paused. Hmm. Well, the Autobots were already in debt to Starscream. It wouldn't hurt to pick up a few Decepticon debts too, now would it? Besides, the Decepticons would fall apart within days without Soundwave—and then what army would Starscream have to lead?

He maneuvered one of Soundwave's arms over his shoulder, put his arm around Soundwave's waist, and dragged him out of the bridge toward the nearest escape to open air.

###

Over and over, Trypticon blasted Godzilla with his laser eyes. He didn't seem to notice that Godzilla was simply absorbing the power—like strange lightning, electrifying him. His whole body crackled with electric energy like he'd rarely had a chance to use before. It would be temporary, but it would be a huge advantage for this battle.

Godzilla had torn gashes in Trypticon's side and throat. Inside were little hallways and rooms, with square corners and lighting fixtures, just like the inside of a building. As it so happened, Godzilla was extremely proficient at destroying buildings.

Trypticon seemed to have figured out he was losing. He spun, his stubby tail slamming Godzilla and knocking him over into the water, and turned, trying to escape. Godzilla lurched back to his feet, eyes locked furiously on his prey. Reactor core heart thrumming, pulsing its energy through his blood—Godzilla's electrified body called to the metal in Trypticon. Behind him, ships in New York Harbor groaned and tilted in his direction. Trypticon's feet lost purchase on the bottom of the bay, as he was magnetically pulled backwards, into Godzilla's arms. Godzilla wrapped his arms around Trypticon, digging his claws into the neck and side wounds he'd already left, and released all the electricity his body had been holding as a single charged blast back into Trypticon. Trypticon seized, blue electricity arcing between his joints and across his open wounds, then sagged against Godzilla, stunned.

###

"Look," Fowler yelled down from the Statue of Liberty's crown at Starscream, "I don't care if you've gotta fly all the way to Canada, you are not dropping a shipload of Decepticon soldiers at Lady Liberty's feet!"

"And why not?!"

"This is—this is sovereign American land, not a Decepticon base! In fact, this island is probably the most American land you'll find!"

"Oh, oh is it now! Is it! What's so great about it that I can't drop a few unconscious soldiers here? All I see is a big green statue!"

"That 'big green statue' is Lady Liberty! She's, she's the symbol of everything good about America! You know— 'Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore'—"

Starscream gestured frantically at Soundwave, Knock Out, and the half dozen Vehicons he'd hauled back so far, and hysterically demanded, "Do we not look like wretched refuse to you?! They're not even conscious!"

Fowler considered that. "... Dang it." He pulled in the window, and shrugged at Miko. "He's right. There's no way I can kick him out."

Miko shook her head.

At the the sound of a thunder crack, Starscream turned toward the battling behemoths, just in time to see the Trypticon thrash with what looked like an electrical overload in the organic beast's arms. At the same time, the stasis locked Decepticons on the ground shuddered, groaned, and went slack. Soundwave sat up first, holding a hand to his head and shaking it.

"It broke the stasis?" Starscream looked between the soldiers, and then back at the monsters. "Trypticon must have been sending out a signal to maintain the stasis... Soundwave! Are you flightworthy?"

Soundwave looked up, a question mark flashing on his visor, and asked in two different voices, "'Starscream'—'what?'"

"Never mind what I'm doing here! Can you fly?" He pointed back toward the battle. "That thing is crushing soldiers with every swipe, and if we still want to have an army in the morning, we've got to evacuate as many as we can!"

Soundwave hesitated, nodded, and transformed.

Starscream transformed as well and turned, hovering. "Knock Out!"

"Whaaahah? What? Who?"

"You're in charge until we get back!"

"Of what?" But Starscream and Soundwave had already taken off, heading back toward Trypticon.

Knock Out stood, sat down, uncertainly stood again in an attempt to look in charge, and finally sat for good. "... What's going on?"

###

Little metal gnats flew around Trypticon, and more began pouring out of his back and wounds, dropping into the water. Godzilla ignored them; they weren't attacking him. In fact, they were using little lasers to punch even more holes in Trypticon's hide, holes that even more purple gnats to poured out of.

Trypticon was weak, tottering on his feet. Godzilla tore into his chest with claws and teeth, ripping through his thickest armor in search of his radioactive heart. Trypticon could only feebly fight back.

At last, with a triumphant roar, Godzilla tore out Trypticon's glowing mechanical heart and began to chew.

###

Several hundred bedraggled Vehicons were packed shoulder-to-shoulder on Liberty Island. More arrived by the minute, swimming and flying, obeying Starscream and Soundwave's commed orders to abandon ship by any means necessary and make way northwest to the small island with the giant green human. Knock Out, despite Fowler's protests, was now sitting on the Statue of Liberty's pedestal at Lady Liberty's feet, to keep himself above the crowd and therefore maintain the illusion that he had any sort of command over the stranded Vehicons.

Starscream and Soundwave landed at the base of the pedestal just in time to see the shorter monster use its teeth to rip Trypticon's power core—complete with a glowing, swirling purple mass that appeared to be an unnaturally resurrected spark—and, after a few seconds of chewing, swallow it near-whole. With another victorious bellow, it spewed a geyser of purple light from its mouth into the night sky.

"Ohhhh daaaang." Miko leaned out her window. "Hey, Doc Knock! Is dark energon radioactive?"

"Uhh, obviously?"

"Wow. No wonder Big G wanted Trypticon's spark so bad."

"What, does it..." Knock Out pointed shakily at the organic monster, "does it eat radioactive things?"

"Uh, obviously?"

Knock Out stared.

"This is so bad," Miko said giddily.

Starscream was pointing at the Vehicons in the crowd one by one, mouth moving as he tried to count them. "This is impos— Everybody, STOP MOVING!" A few Vehicons froze. Most kept fidgeting and jostling, trying to get into positions from which they could more comfortably obey the order. A small cluster knocked themselves over, which started a domino effect. Starscream threw up his hands with a noise of frustration. "Whatever. We'll count you later." He watched in disapproval as a third of the surviving army toppled over in slow motion.

Soundwave tapped Starscream's shoulder. "'Lord Megatron?'"

"I didn't see him," Starscream snapped. At Soundwave's stare, he said defensively, "I didn't! Anyway, if I had, what was I supposed to do? Carry him out myself?"

Soundwave gave Starscream a slow, patronizing nod.

Starscream flung out his spindly arms for Soundwave to observe. "With these?!"

Knock Out cut in, "The last I heard from Megatron, he was heading to the power core to extract the dark energon from the Nemesis."

Starscream said, "You mean the one that beast—"

"Its name is Big G," Knock Out said.

"The one Big G just swallowed?"

"Yeah, that one." Knock Out paused. "Oh."

The three officers looked forlornly at Trypticon, slumping slowly and ignobly into the water. Godzilla, meal finished, was trudging off into the ocean, slowly disappearing into deeper water.

Soundwave began playing "Taps."

"Oh, stuff it," Starscream muttered. Soundwave played "Taps" louder.

Raising his voice, Starscream said, "Of course, this does bring up the question of chain of command. With Megatron gone—and, obviously, with my own triumphant return to the Decepticons..."

"Taps" immediately cut off, and Soundwave played Starscream's voice: "'Decepticons, it is with deep sorrow that I note for the log, Megatron's spark has been extinguished. All. Hail.'—'Soundwave.'"

Starscream had begun smirking, but it immediately twisted into a scowl. "Excuse me?! After I single-handedly saved the army? And personally hauled you from the bowels of Trypticon, you ungrateful—"

Soundwave whipped out his feelers. Starscream skittered several steps back. "We can, of course, discuss chain of command later."

"Technically," Knock Out said, "Dreadwing is still the second in command. Has anyone seen him?"

Starscream and Soundwave looked at each other, and then out at the crowd. Soundwave lifted his feelers to look around like periscopes.

Knock Out shrugged. "Meh. I didn't like him much anyway."

Fowler yelled down, "Maybe you should worry less about who's in charge and more about what you're going to do now. Seeing as you're stranded on an island. Without a ship. And surrounded."

"Surrounded?!" Starscream demanded. "What do you mean, surro—" He looked around, and froze. Helicopters and ships were edging in on the island on three sides, and were quickly closing the gap to the southeast between Liberty Island and Trypticon. The shore of New York City behind them was lined with tanks wherever they fit. Starscream stared. Then looked up at Fowler. "Perhaps it's time to discuss a... meeting of minds with the Autobots, to productively combine our resources."

"Uh-huh," Fowler said, smirking.

Soundwave dropped into a battle stance, feelers reeling back like snakes about to strike Starscream. Starscream skittered farther away again. "Don't do that! I'm not talking about surrender! Just a—a—coming to an agreement! The Autobots owe me a favor for all this, after all!" Tone growing more indignant, he went on, "You owe me a favor, too! You all do! You owe it to me to do what I say! I basically single-handedly saved the Cybertronian population on Earth, so if I think it's time to make overtures of peace the least you can do is hear me out—"

In the distance, Godzilla's dorsal fins disappeared beneath the water. With a mere ripple in the ocean, he was gone.

###

Comments/reblogs are welcome! If you want to leave a tip or like the fic on AO3, the links are in my description!

[brittysaucefanfic]

A Fate Unclaimed

Part 22

(First)(Previous)(Next)(Last)(AU 1)(AU 2)(AO3) 

Yoooo I just realized I didn't post the new update on this story on tumblr and I am very ashamed. On the bright side I actually updated something! When I go through to fix this tomorrow I'll add an under the cut and the links but I'm lazy and tired. Lmao I won't keep you guys any longer. Let's go!

******

Lance stirs as the sun begins to set, and Keith is the first to notice. They had set up camp, which pretty much meant they just walked until they found a small plateau and hunkered down in an overhang. Shiro and Keith are the only ones awake, whereas Pidge and Hunk had passed out as soon it was clear they were all safe for the time being. They huddle close to Lance, one of his hands in each of theirs.

Shiro stands on watch at the edge of the overhang, a good few feet away, a sword pierced into the ground, hands settled over the hilt. He looks like a sentry, and Keith actually wishes for once he had some sort of artistic talent so that he could draw Shiro. Sadly, all of his skills lay with battle. Lance’s head shifts to the side to look at Keith, eyes still closed, tear tracks stained on his dirt covered face.

His eyes open to reveal a brilliant blue.

Keith and Lance have a tenuous friendship at best, but with the nonstop action the past two days, they haven’t had a chance to figure out which side of the scale they tilt towards. Friends or enemies. Even then though, a crushing relief surges into Keith’s chest. He’s lost a lot already, he won’t lose Lance, friend or enemy, doesn’t matter.

“Welcome to the land of the living sleeping beauty,” is the first thing out of Keith’s mouth. It doesn’t come out smooth whatsoever, and he feels his ears burn at the blurted pet name. He has never said anything like that. Not once in his life. There’s a silence for a moment, then Lance smiles, something slow that makes Keith’s pulse race just a little.

“Perhaps I’m still asleep if you’re using pet names now Samurai.” Lance mutters, he goes to sit up, but stops mid way when he realizes his hands are trapped. A soft look crosses his face as he eases free his hands, careful not to wake the demigods clutching onto him in their sleep.

“Lance, you’re awake.” Shiro says, easing over to the two of them, his shoulders losing some of the tension they had been holding as he stood guard. Shiro moves to sit beside the bundle of demigods so that he may look out for dangers.

“So it seems,” Lance muses quietly, smile slipping into a disturbed frown. The change is confusing to Keith, why does Lance seem so troubled? “How long was I out?” There is nothing in the way he asks it that seems out of place, but Keith still frowns when he senses something off.

“Only a day, thanks to Apollo.” Shiro says, and Keith is reminded that the wait wasn’t as long as it had seemed. To Keith it seemed like days. He’s never been the best when it came to patience, one of the many things Shiro bemoans about him.

“Apollo to the rescue? Did he,” Lance pauses. “Say anything?” It’s Shiro’s turn to look troubled. Keith realizes with a jolt that it’s so easy to read Lance’s facial expressions because they look almost identical to Shiro’s. Not his face, just the faces he makes. Perhaps if he imagined everyone to make the same expressions as Shiro, it would help Keith in his ‘social awkwardness’ as Shiro calls it.

“Yeah, Pidge asked why you weren’t claimed,” Shiro starts. “He said something about you not being for the Gods to claim yet."

The look on Lance's face tightens considerably, darkening. The conversation seems to have woken up the two sleeping beauties. Hunk stirs first, sitting up and rubbing his eyes with a yawn. Before he even opens his eyes, the first thing he does is straighten his slightly crooked orange headband, tightening it, then he reaches over to Pidge and goes to wake her up.

What's interesting to Keith is the fact that he doesn't shake her shoulder like one would expect. Instead he reaches underneath her chin and lightly runs his nail back and forth on her chin like she's a cat. Pidge scrunches her nose, then like lightning, she snaps her teeth at Hunk's hand. He pulls away like he was expecting it. This all happens with neither of them opening their eyes, and Pidge sits up grumbling.

"That's still unnerving you know." Lance says casually.

"Hey if it works it works." Hunk mumbles, still rubbing his eyes with continuous yawns.

"Lance can you hand me my glasses?" Pidge says as she stretches her arms above her head. Lance silently hands her the pair of glasses that are too big for her small face. Pidge is midway between slipping on her glasses when both Pidge and Hunk freeze and tense. Their eyes snap open almost simultaneously, and just as simultaneously they both screech Lance's name. Again, nearly simultaneously, they lunge at Lance and take him to the ground in a pile of limbs. Lance's breath rushes from him in an audible huff.

"Lance!" They yell, then Pidge's voice takes over Hunk's briefly.

"We thought you were a goner!"

Hunk then takes over the screeching. "Don't scare us like that!"

Lance laughs breathily, patting both of their backs with a groan and a wince. As they lean back away from him Lance rubs his once injured shoulder. There are still a few prominent black veins around where the wound originated, the last vestiges of the poison in his veins. The hole itself has closed, though ungracefully, looking more like a knot in a tree than skin.

It doesn't bulge prominently, but it's obvious that the skin healed far faster than it should have, leaving being a small raised knot. The skin twists around almost in a full circle, and with the black veins still prominent it isn't the nicest sight to look at. Keith looks away from the wound to Lance's face, locking eyes with a piercing pair of blue eyes. Lance offers him a small, tight smile and they break eye contact like it never happened.

"Yeah, I don't exactly plan on doing anything like nearly dying again." Lance says, then his lips form a grin that Keith might imagine to be a leer. "At least not until I've had sex first."

"Ugh!" Pidge cries out in disgust, shoving Lance back onto the ground as he cracks up laughing like a maniac. "You're deplorable!"

"Ooh that's a big word Pidgey. Good job! Such a smart girl you are!" Lance mocks, baby voice and all. She picks up a small rock and aims it at his head. Lance dodges with hardly a blink of surprise. Her face slowly drops the playful glare, and turns somber.

"We were really scared Lance. I-" she cuts herself off with a shaky inhale. "I've already lost my brother, but there's still a chance to find Matt. You- you nearly died. There is no return from death." She stops, not saying anything more, but the tears welling up in her eyes say everything. Lance gathers her in his arms and strokes her head, Pidge clinging onto him. Hunk, not one to be left out of an emotional hug, gathers them both into his arms, thick fat tears rolling down his cheeks. He cries silently though, nothing to hear but sniffles.

There's a moment of silence as Keith watches the three of them.

Something wells up in his chest, making him look away with a lump in his throat. Shiro's hand settles on Keith's shoulder, and Keith doesn't have to look up to know that Shiro is smiling at him in that big brother kind of way that he does.

"Okay that's enough!" Pidge snaps, squirming out of the group hug and settling herself on the ground with huff. She straightens her glasses and wipes at her eyes. "So, now that Lance is better do we need to start moving on to whatever it is we were sent on this quest to do?"

Suddenly it's business?

"Actually," Hunk chimes, wiping at his own eyes but still sitting with an arm around Lance. Pidge scoots quietly closer, so that Lance's knees and hers touch but nothing more. Lance and Pidge both hide their hands behind the touching knees for some reason. Are they a couple maybe? For some reason that image makes Keith want to separate them two with his own body. He doesn't, though, because that would be weird.

"What are we supposed to be doing?" Hunk asks. "Like we have a map, but no clue on what the quest is actually about? Are we stopping a bunch of monsters? Killing some ancient evil entity? Fighting rogue demigods?"

"Rogue demigods?" Lance repeats, one eyebrow arched high into his hairline. Hunk shrugs defensively.

"Maybe something Macaria talked to you about will give us a clue?" Shiro hints at Lance, his usually top notch subtlety somehow not being put to good use. Lance looks away, at the ground, the hand not hidden behind his knee picking at the torn up jeans he wears. He shivers as a breeze picks up suddenly, and Keith realizes Lance is still completely shirtless.

Keith pointedly does not look away from Lance's face as he slips off his dark red leather jacket and hands it to Lance. He takes it gratefully and slips it on. Keith ignores the chill that racks his spine when another cool breeze passes. Lance is the one who almost died, Keith can suffer a little chill. Not that he hasn't done so before anyways.

"We talked about a few things, but not much about the quest. Though," Lance trails off. "I have a decent idea of what's going on."

"You do?" Shiro asks, surprised. It seems he never expected Lance to answer.

"I had a dream while I was," Lance swallows thickly, Adam's apple bobbing at his throat. For some reason Keith is enthralled with the movement. "Dying. A nightmare more like actually." They're silent as they wait for Lance to elaborate. "I was in Camp, and it was empty. Then a strange man spoke to me like he knew who I was. He said-" Lance pauses, hesitates.

"Well it doesn't matter what he said, but I think he plans to overthrow the gods. He showed me the camp in ruins, flames, and the camp looking like some Disney villain army encampment. The same thing with the Roman camp. As well as two others I don't recognize, but I'm fairly positive they were demigod camps. Of some kind." Lance explains. His face turns twisted like he's in pain.

"Do you have any idea who it is?" Hunk asks. Lance shrugs unevenly, one shoulder higher than the other.

"I don't know, I've never seen the man before but Coran gave me a- the journal!" Lance bursts out in panic surging to his feet, wobbling, then rummaging through all of the packs and supplies. The sudden burst of movement makes Keith flinch unintentionally.

"Journal?" Hunk asks. "What journal?"

Lance finishes off one pack, the contents strewn across the ground haphazardly, and moves onto the next in much the same manner. Lance mutters frantically underneath his breath. He forgoes taking everything out one at a time and just dumps the pack upside down. This one is clearly Hunk's pack as a bunch of random gadgets and mechanical pieces crash to the ground.

"Hey!" Hunk whines, though he doesn't sound that upset about the mess. More like he's concerned. Or worried. Or scared. Or a lot of things actually. Keith needs to learn how to read people better.

"Coran gave me a journal that seemed really important and necessary and I need to find it!" Lance says. Pidge is the one to cry out indignantly when it's her pack being turned over.

"Geez lance be careful! And have you thought to look in your pack first?" Pidge huffs. Lance pauses in his rummaging and looks for his pack, as if he had suddenly remembered he had one of his own. He dives for it like a volleyball player diving to save the ball from touching the ground. Soon Lance's stuff joins the mess.

His stuff isn't quite so unique compared to the gadgets in Hunk's pack and the computer and stuff in Pidge's. In actuality his pack almost resembles Shiro's, the first pack to be rummaged through. Shiro seems to have no concern over Lance going wildly through their stuff as he watches out into the darkness of night.

The flames of the small fire cast flickering shadows on the wall of the overhang, coating the entire group in an eerie glow. Once again Keith wishes he could draw, to capture the moment on paper. The way the fire dancing across Shiro's face makes his scar almost dance with it, his metal arm shimmering with the light. The way Pidge is cast in Hunk's shadows, and how Hunk looks looming and dangerous with the flames touching his dark brown eyes.

And Lance.

The way Lance moves so frantically through his pack, the flickering light making Lance's movements seem like he's moving through water. Like he is water. A form barely held together as a whole. It's makes his tan skin glow gold like Apollo's. His blue eyes nearly glow, white teeth gnawing at his lower lip. Dark hair twisting around his head in flashes of flame and flashes of darkness. Keith's red jacket like their own flames engulfing Lance's body.

Keith swallows thickly and looks away.

Somehow his eyes land on the very thing Lance is looking for. It's hidden beneath his jacket, now torn at the shoulder where Lance was injured, a dark red stain surrounding the hole. It makes sense that no one thought to look there. The jacket is pushed up against the wall in a heap, dark enough that it blends with the dark dirt and far enough away that the flames don't cast light upon it. The journal that peeks out from beneath is dark too, but the pale cream of the pages on the side is a bright spot against so much dark.

Keith eases up slowly, not wanting to cause any unwanted attention. Everyone's eyes are on Lance as he gives a short shout of frustration. Keith grabs the book before Lance can start making a mess of his pack too and stops Lance from going after it with a hand on his shoulder. He holds the journal out delicately, looking Lance in the eyes. His pretty blues are misty with tears that haven't fallen.

"Is this it?" Keith asks near silently. The misty look disappears from his eyes and he goes to grab the book from Keith. The movement at first is violent, reaching to grab the book and yank it from Keith's hands. Then as Lance settles his long fingers around the spine, their fingertips touching just barely, his movement slows to a crawl. He slowly takes the book from Keith's grasp. The brief contact wasn't a lot but it still sent hot tingles up his wrist.

"Thank you." Lance says. And then the charged moment snaps as their eyes look away from each other. Lance settles on the ground with a heavy thump and an even heavier sigh.

Keith returns to his place on the other side of the fire. The seating is no longer one sided though, the four of them no longer on one side and he on the other. Shiro, Pidge and Hunk still sit across from Keith, facing out into the openness beyond. But now Keith and Lance sit on the other side, next to each other, knees almost touching.

Keith is not a thinking type of person.

He doesn't think about his actions most of the time, he just goes for it and damned be the consequences. It's gotten him kicked out of many schools, thrown out of many foster homes, and unintentionally made him a bully or a victim. Sometimes (most times) he was the stronger one, making Keith the bully even though the other kids started it. Other times he was the smaller one and the other kids had the advantage so Keith became the victim.

So he's no philosopher, and he's no ponderer.

But it seems even Keith can make an exception. He knows he's not the brightest when it comes to other people. It's hard to understand the emotions and feelings on their faces, and the intentions behind their actions. He's not even used to being so thoughtful about what he isn't.

He's never before lamented he was a fighter and not an artist. He's never lamented that he sometimes can't understand other people unless they explain it to him in clear words. He's never lamented the fact that he's technically only ever had one friend, and that's Shiro. But now? Now he wants it all with a burning passion.

He wants to understand jokes so he can laugh with other people. He wants to understand facial expressions and body language so he can be the one to comfort someone else for once. He wants to have friends other than Shiro who won't just disappear when he gets too much of a burden.

There's always been a metaphorical line that separates him from other people. One that he tries desperately to cross but he can't see it. Only those on the other side know where the line is and refuse to let him cross into their world. Up until now Shiro was the only one who ever crossed the line to Keith. Now, just as Lance sits beside him on one side of the fire, so might he stand beside him on Keith's side of the line.

Or perhaps Lance has one foot on either side, ready to cross either which way but not decided on which side he would choose yet. Keith vainly hopes Lance leans to Keith's side, but he won't know until Lance crosses completely.

"So," Shiro finally speaks up, drawing the word out with a faint southern drawl. Shiro isn't southern, but Keith is. It makes Keith wonder if maybe Shiro picked up on Keith's barely there southern accent. If that's even possible. "What's so important about the journal?" Shiro asks.

"I don't know yet. I haven't read anything from it but something about the man in the dream made me think of Coran and subsequently the journal." Lance explains. He cuts himself off with a yawn before continuing. "Whoever he was though he was good at controlling my dream. He had me paralyzed, barely able to speak, let alone move. And he said something along the lines of him seeing my impending death on my soul."

"Huh." Pidge says, a hand on her chin in thought. "A son of Hypnos maybe? Since he could control dreams?"

"No," Lance says as he shakes his head. "He's too powerful. If he's a demigod, which is still unclear, I'd say he rivals the power of Shiro and Allura. I could see it."

That makes Keith curious, the way he said that. As if the power coming off of the strange man in the dream was something he could actually see. Something corporeal, something he could touch. His mouth is speaking before Keith has a chance to realize he's doing it.

"What do you mean by you can 'see it'?" Keith asks. Lance snaps his head to the side to stare at Keith with wide eyes, then stares at the journal in his lap, picking at the leather cord binding the pages closed.

"Uh, well." Lance stammers. "Okay so, you can't laugh at me. I swear I'm telling you the truth."

"Lance." Shiro says in a calming voice, finally looking away from the nighttime darkness. "You can tell us anything. We're your friends."

Lance stares at Shiro for a long moment, making the silence between the five of them grow tense. The only sounds in the air are the crickets and the distant howling of bobcats or coyotes or whatever big predator animals the desert have. Lance finally slumps his shoulders with a sigh.

"So ever since I was young I get these," Lance pauses to try and figure out the words. "Flashes of color around certain people, and it didn't really happen until I learned of my godly blood. Then it happened more often but I kind of learned to ignore it like it wasn't there. To the point where sometimes I don't even realize it happened again until after the fact." Lance explains. He starts drawing little runic designs in the sand that look vaguely familiar.

"I get them for everyone, or at least the demigods and Gods. Usually the color is muted gold, maybe with another color kind of mixed in. Sort of like auras? But not quite. Some demigods shine brightly, blindingly like Macaria and," Lance pauses and swallows thickly. "Shiro and Allura too. They all nearly blinded me the first time I saw them. The gods, or at least those I've met, which isn't many, all shone the brightest. First time I met Apollo I nearly passed out from being overwhelmed by the glow."

"Glow, as in what Macaria said?" Pidge asks tentatively. Lance nods.

"She knew what it was, and she explained only that it made me unique, that I was gifted due to my heritage. It's supposedly one of many things that are in my power that makes me stand above other demigods or whatever." Lance says, and Keith can practically feel the waves of bitterness rolling off of him. "And I'm sorry, by the way."

Lance looks up and eyes them all with a sorrowful look.

"Macaria she, she used the glow against me. Used it like Shiro and Allura didn't know they could." Lance says. Shiro nearly jerks back in shock.

"What do you mean?" Shiro asks.

"I mean, there's a reason I'm always hanging off of you two." Lance says wryly, a dry smirk quirking at his lips. "The glow, when it's bright enough, enthralls me. Makes me crave the close proximity to it. At least that's what Macaria said it was. She told me to learn to resist the thrall or I won't be a help on this quest, I'll only hinder it."

"But what does the glow mean? What's it there for?" Hunk asks. Lance goes to answer, then pauses, eyes wide and bewildered.

"You guys are making it sound like you believe me." Lance says. Keith tilts his head curiously to the side, eyeing Lance's profile.

"Why wouldn't we?" Keith asks. Lance looks at him and Keith stares into glowing blue eyes. "You said you were telling the truth, why wouldn't we believe you?"

"Exactly." Hunk says, nodding. Pidge hums her agreement.

"I've never known you to lie about something so important Lance. I doubt you would start now." Shiro says. Lance blinks and then smiles a tiny little smile.

"Thanks guys. But to answer Hunk's question I don't know. I don't think Macaria knows for sure either. She said she was the only person she's known for centuries who sees it until I was born." Lance says, a shrug of his shoulders. Then he wrinkles his nose. "And apparently she felt it when I was born too, which weirded me out so I changed the subject."

"Well first," Pidge starts. "Creepy. Second. Did she say anything else about what she does know?" Lance shrugs to her question.

"Just that the fates put her through hell in back a few times, even literally. That I should be careful of my own self and of others if I want to survive." Lance says. He throws it out there casually, but even Keith, antisocial Keith, can see the hard line of Lance's lips, and the tense set of his shoulders, the strain of his voice to stay casual.

"Anyways." Lance explodes out suddenly, jumping up and quickly repacking everything he made a mess of in no time flat. He soon turns on heel and places his hands on his hips. "I'm tired. Who has first watch? And no, Shiro, it won't be you. When I woke up you were standing watch." Lance says, beating Shiro to the punch.

Shiro actually pouts and concedes to Lance's demand.

What a pushover.

Keith goes to offer himself up as watchman when Lance glares him down. Apparently Keith is lumped in with Shiro on the whole being forbidden from taking watch thing. Seems it's up to Pidge and Hunk.

"I'll do it." Pidge says, standing with a languid stretch of her body. Keith winces as he hears her neck, knees, and fingers pop. Then she twists her body and her back pops too. Keith suppresses a shudder at the sound. He hates that sound. Why would anybody do something like that to their own bodies? "I've got enough sleep anyways. Y'all get some rest, I've got your backs."

Pidge then swipes up her weird boomerang blade thing and strides out to the edge of the overhang with a blanket, settling up against a rock and crossing her legs. She's a far more relaxed sentry then Shiro was, but Keith has no doubt she's twice as deadly.

Lance is the first to stride over to where he had been unconscious earlier as he healed, laying down and sliding the heap of a jacket underneath his head as a pillow. Hunk isn't far behind, and for that matter neither is Shiro, though he simply lays on his back where he had been sitting, arms beneath his head. Keith looks back towards Lance and freezes when glaring blue eyes lock onto him.

With a huff he slides onto his side to fall asleep, or at least pretend to.

Every time Keith peeks his eyes open Lance is still looking at him with a deadly glare. Eventually the allure of rest conquers and he's soon falling asleep to Hunk's snoring and Shiro's sleepy whistle noises he makes in his sleep.

"Goodnight Keith." Lance whispers and Keith doesn't have time to return it before he's falling under the veil of unconsciousness.

******

(First)(Previous)(Next)(Last)(AU 1)(AU 2)(AO3)

[dark0angel13]

The Ties That Bind

This is a story I’ve been working on for the better part of four years. I have it posted to my FFN account, but the beginning chapters are trash so I’m rewriting it and posting it to my AO3 account. You can find the original 33 chapters here, but if youd rather wait until I get around to posting updated chapters, you can read the first chapter now here,

Without further adieu...here goes.

I forgot how cruel the world could be. For a split second, the thought of a person taking another life, was foreign to me. What happened to make humanity lose its grip on compassion? What was the trigger for this complete switch to one’s personality? The questions flash through my mind almost too quickly as hot tears stream down my face. My eyes seem glued to my sister as she's carted off to God knows where, and just like that, my heart shatters into pieces.  

A scream rips its way up my throat, and I’m clawing at the arm around my neck, nails digging into flesh in an attempt to free myself. The grip is strong, but no matter how hard I struggle, twist, and fight, escape seems impossible. All I can do is watch in horror as her form grows smaller; the carriage she’s locked in gets further from my reach. Their cries echo around me and my jaw tightens.  

“Struggle all you want little girl, you won’t save them.” The owner of the voice flexes his arm and breathing becomes difficult. “You would be going too, but a child who fights tooth and nail against everyone, will serve no purpose in the Tower of Heaven. You will die here, and while you bleed out you can regret not cooperating when you had the chance. You will never see your sister again.” A gasp escapes me when he relaxes and I’m doing my best to suck air into my lungs. Every nerve ending is alight with white hot pain, and I can feel my head pounding in time with my pulse, but giving up is not an option right now. Not when she needed me.  

“I’ll…kill…all of…y-you…” The threat comes out as a hiss and blackness encroaches on the edges of my vision; my arms feel like lead.  

“Little bitch!” His anger is almost palpable, and seconds later my hearing fails. The world seems to stop, time itself standing still and I feel something hit me, followed by a tugging sensation.  My eyes widen and my body jerks, but there’s no pain. My struggling stops; my arms refuse to work anymore, falling limp at my sides, and I can feel a rush of liquid invade my mouth. My sense of taste is next to fail me, and even though I know blood dribbles from the corner of my lips, I can’t taste it. Nor can my nose pick up on any smell at all, as that sense quickly follows suit. Every sense I have, refuses to work. I can’t help a glance down; knowing full well what I’ll see, but still needing the clarification, and sure enough, the blade is there—protruding just to the right of my belly button—glistening in the moonlight, and tinged crimson.  

Words fail me then, and I can barely manage a gasp of air because each shallow breath I make, seemed an impossible feat. Even the slightest shift in my body is enough to move the blade and though it didn’t hurt, the damage would only increase. Is this it? Am I going to die here? The questions come, but not the answers and when I look up, I meet her beautiful amber eyes now wide with terror. Her face is contorted in shock and I can see her hands trembling around the bars, her knuckles white from tension.  

Sound comes rushing back to me then, filling my ears with a myriad of acoustics that I can only barely comprehend. The iron grip around my neck is suddenly gone and it’s in that moment, when my legs refuse to hold me up anymore and my face is rushing to meet the ground at an alarming speed. My entire balance shifts on its axis and I hit the ground with enough force to bring a scream from my lips, pain exploding in my left temple. But it’s not me I was worried about. I couldn’t care less about what happens to me. All I cared about was her. Her image leaves my field of vision but I hear my name die on her lips before a bone crunching thud echos and her grunt of pain follows.  

All around me houses burned, livestock lay slaughtered, and people lay lifeless as the monsters who stormed into our small village, now vacate just as swiftly as they’d come. What did we do to deserve this? The question repeats over and over in my head. The sound of the carriage is gone, leaving me to bask in the symphony that is raging fire and haughty laughter, and I hate it. They were just going to vanish now, literally getting away with not only murder, but child abduction as well. That simply could not happen.  

“Leave the girl to bleed to death. She can’t do anything anyway, and it would be a waste of time to finish her off. Let’s go boys.” That same gruff voice speaks, and I can hear the amusement.  So, they were leaving me for dead? I didn’t warrant even a finishing blow? How insulting. My pulse races faster now; my blood boils so hot I can see steam emanating from my skin. The numbness in my limbs abates, replaced by seething hatred faster than I can comprehend, and something inside me seems to explode outward, ripping up the ground around me even as the pain fades from my consciousness.  

I know instantly what the feeling is. The magic lying dormant within me finally activating, and I feel the raw power of it running through me light a current. My strength swells, letting me know I still have the opportunity of ridding the world of the scum that remained in my village. I was given a second chance I sure wasn’t going to let it slip through my hands. The air grows silent around me as the magic rages like a torrent, swirling in a typhoon of brilliant indigo that rockets skyward. The blade comes free with a sickening squelch and a pained hiss escapes me. It was a beautiful dark steel, running the entire length of my body, the hilt decorated with woven red and blue patterns.  

I struggle to stand, my legs threatening to collapse under me, as the world spins. The sword is heavy, but at the same time, the weight of it has a calm washing over me. I can do this. The thought flutters through my mind as my right hand applies pressure to the wound in my stomach, the sword held in a death grip by my dominant one with every ounce of strength my body would allow. My magic chooses that moment to calm down, and it dissipates on the wind like smoke.  

“Hey!” The anger in my voice surprises me, the steadiness of it even more so, and the threat laced within the simple word sends a shiver racing down my spine. I watch as their forms freeze, and I swear not a single one even risks a breath in. I take a step forward, making sure my stance allows me to either attack or defend should the need arise. Two of the five remaining jumped slightly, stepping back on instinct if I had to muster a guess, and even from here I could smell their fear; see the beads of sweat glistening on their trembling forms, and a primal part of me loved that feeling. The hunters were now the hunted and I wasn’t going to let them get away.  

“Easy now…I know you’re upset…but killing us isn’t going to bring anyone back. It’s not going to make you feel better!” The man in front says shakily, his once arrogant chuckle, replaced with terror.  

“No,” I crouch and reel my arm back, ready to put everything I had into this, to ensure they never bothered anyone again. To make sure they never ripped apart another village; another family again. “but it’s a start!”  

I move then, my body blurring as I release all of my magic power at once, and the force of it obliterates everything in its path. The fires that run rampant through my village are snuffed out in an instant, their memory floating through the night in the form of ash, and the shock wave rockets the remains of the houses off into the distance, the screaming of the wind overpowering every other sound. They didn’t stand a chance really, and it’s over before I even straighten.  

In the wake of my sword, is a trench forming outward into a massive ‘V’ shape, originating at my feet and easily reaching what looked to be as wide as five houses. The effect has my entire body shaking and I can feel the magic fading. A sigh escapes me, and I turn on my heel to sprint off into the direction I last saw the carriage heading.  

 will find you… My foot catches on a root and I hit the ground with a grunt, and stars dance in my vision. Air is suddenly difficult to acquire and the pain is slowly, agonizingly, beginning to return as the high of adrenaline fades into nonexistence. I try to stand, to move any limb at all, but my body refuses to obey me anymore; seems to be fine with succumbing to numbness as all sensation fades in my hands and feet.  

This is it. This is where I die. Alone, weak, and wondering if my younger sister would even live to see her fifth birthday. My jaw clenches as a fresh wave of tears fall and soak into the dirt.  

“At…least I c-can die…knowing I avenged…our p-parents…stay alive….”  The last vestiges of strength leave me in a rush of breath from my already burning lungs, and blackness encroaches on my vision. The last thing I remember is her face flashing through my mind, and her name fading from my lips.  

“Erza.”

END

In my opinion, this is still trash, but I won’t get better unless people rip my stuff apart and tell me what they want. So...have at it. Tell me if you love it, hate it, want me to keep going, or if I should give up writing all together. 

[weaver-of-fantasies-and-fables]

TGOA Worldbuilding: Fashion and Culture in the Major Cities

Okay so I said I would be back and here I am. In these past few weeks I’ve been drowned in exams, working on stuff for Rome Pride Parade, another couple of demonstrations and marches, a two-day-long dance recital. I am DEAD. But as writers often do, I am back to haunt y’all with a little worldbuilding based on some sketches I did for my instagram page. Which I will pick back up soon I SWEAR.

So let’s begin! This post is going to be kind of long so make sure you have time! I’ll throw in a Read More after the first city.

Malnova, the Ancient

The town was unkept and brimming with criminality and death and illness.

But its past was glorious and, if one paid attention and knew enough to look for it, it emerged from the shroud of ignorance and wilful denial that was its shield and its prison. Scio had learned all about it as a child walking about with her beloved master, and now she did her best to transmit that wonder to her companion, wanting her to see Malnova as it once stood, wise and uncorrupted.

Scio had always been fascinated by the views hidden within the serpentine alleys of the centre. Ancient, almost-forgotten ruins of the world that once had been rested under a layer of dust in-between the villas of the rich. White marble spilled into the streets, reflecting the faces of the present and the past alike.

Malnova is the heart of the Knights’ rule, and even though the land can be counted more or less as being a confederacy of different cities, it’s in Malnova that the majority of political functions are held and decisions taken. As it serves the practical function of a Capital city, it’s constantly suffering a barrage of trends and input from the rest of the nation, which makes it difficult for it to maintain its specificity. Malnova’s ways are set in stone: it’s easily the most conservative city of all, both in practices and in fashion; religious imagery is woven in every aspect of its citizens’ lives. Sun’s colors are everywhere, and so are her statues, often depicting her as a merciless warrior seeking vengeance and punishing sinners with the righteous fury of her fire. The ruins of Malnova’s past (before the Knights) are left to rot in their squalid, paling splendour, and their meanings and purpose have been forgotten and buried; the people wander among their marble skeletons that have become voiceless and forget themselves as well.  Guilt and a very accented sense of duty are Malnova’s key words - interspersed with the promise of blessings to those who behave in accordance to the Law. Probably because of this, it’s precisely in Malnova that most of the rebels of the land are born and gather: an immense web of revolutionaries mingles inextricably with its underworld of delinquency and poverty, but it has expanded to reach even the upper class, mostly thanks to privileged university students who embrace the cause of liberation from the Knights’ near-dictatorship.

Scio, Milda and Koro grew up in Malnova.

Kristina, the Crystalline

Kristina was resplendent in the bright colours of the midday sun when they passed underneath its solar glass walls, watching its iridescent reflexes from afar, from the lowest section of the cliff it was perched upon; they stood where the evergreen trees gave way to a softer vegetation that morphed slowly into a collection of colourful pebbles, sleeping by the ocean.

It had been universally agreed in the past twenty years or so that there was no city finer than Kristina, nor more religious – only within its walls stood more than three hundred Shrines, not including the small, private ones, each unique and beautiful, reflecting the many facets of a faith that had known so many changes in the course of the centuries. Most of them had been abandoned, left to ruin in solitude like forgotten museums that had no more voice because no one understood their treasures anymore.

Kristina houses the most important temple of the land, the Shrine of Sun Conqueror; relatively new, it was built to celebrate Sun’s victory over Moon, and light prevailing over darkness, justice over cruelty. People from all the land gather there to celebrate four days of fast and prayer each new year: the new year start when the Spring Equinox begins, which is when the mortals place the start of Sun’s rule. The city itself is a work of art: it stands above the cliff where legend says Moon was born, and it has not entirely forgotten its roots of silver moonlight. Crisp veils and watery colours prevail even in this time when Moon is banished, and Kristina retains its mystical appeal and its role as Muse and Inspiration. Even if Moon, the protector of poetry and music has been turned into a monster, a ghost to chase away, the city still fascinates poets and writers, who gravitate into its orbit almost naturally.  Kristina is also the only city to boast a measure of autonomy from the Knights’ laws: because of this, it has been allowed to keep its public library open, if censored, and its alphabetisation levels are far higher than those of its sister cities.

Klara, probably the greatest poet to ever exist, was born there, and so was Skalo, the youngest and most reasonable of the Knights.

Nevenkita, the Unconquered

There were no imposing palaces in Nevenkita: all the buildings were small, huddled together in a rainbow of coarse bricks and sloping rooftops upon which shone proudly artful mosaics made out of solar glass; most houses were connected by suspended bridges that had become home to tangles of poison ivy and brambles, and on the highest floors sometimes balconies touched while thin strings collected lanterns that hung into the void.

Everywhere were visible the signs of war – it was the stone itself that bore its scars, faithful and supportive of the people that had given blood and soul and tears to defend it. The night spilled velvet into the air, and never had Scio felt it more welcoming or more alive: every shadow, every star, every cloud seemed to ring with it, with the pulsing energy of the mortals, the songs and voices and dances and noises that crowded the quiet, made it sentient and ripe with meaning.

Nevenkita is the only city never to have fallen under the Knights’ rule. Protected by the enchanted forest where the God of Darkness and Dreams used to dwell, by the ocean that Moon commanded and the mountains the Crawlers hide within, the Unconquered receives help and resources from people of the foreign nations, who deem it a point of honor to aid the city in its resistance.  During the course of the decades, Nevenkita has suffered and survived many sieges at the hands of the Knights’ army of Shorina, and has managed to keep its independence. The people of Nevenkita are very well cultured, know the history of the land and have high schooling rates. As opposed to the rest of the cities, Nevenkita’s healthcare system is not only extremely efficient, but entirely free - and Nevenkita’s doctors are known for smuggling medicines and sometimes equipment into the land, and for visiting people illegally (see: Koro). The city is almost single-handedly responsible for keeping the Resistance alive and safe, and receives a constant flux of immigrants escaping the Knights (though most of them later cross the border seeking asylum). The most important figure of the Resistance is Beno, Defìo’s wife; three times the leader of Nevenkita, she has fought nail and tooth ever since she was fifteen in a time where all hope seemed lost, and has attracted a fair number of followers inside the land, too. Her brutal execution has shaken the public to the point of reawakening movements of dissent all across the cities, and she is now considered a war hero. 

Defìo, though exiled, has picked up her legacy.

BONUS: SCIO AND SUNON AS SHORIN AND RI’SAL

Okay this is IT I’m sorry if it’s too long but I needed to sort it all out and why not have you suffer through it as well? That’s what writeblogs are for, right?

Tag list (which I might need to update? I don’t know): @toboldlywrite

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