#I'm very tired so I hope it comes across as coherent | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

savrenim · 6 years ago

Text

To Stare Into Darkness: The Infestation Incident Of Black Lotus Labs

As Told By Four Letters Unsent, Three Letters Sent, And The Official Report Drafted By Acolyte Consecrate Iria Strell

For those of you who have been following the gay murder elf bachelorette campaign (official title, In Their Footsteps We Shall Follow) (or have not been following but have become interested considering the number of memes I've been spanning of Book 5 of it), it has the backstory and narrative crafting of a full series of novellas more than a DnD campaign, and the fourth book recently came to its magnificent conclusion. (hence the Book 5 memes). Which means, of course, that I have to write a novella about it.

gay murder elf bachelorette tells the story of Iria Strell, a Caedic elf and solid villain of this setting considering the Caedic Empire is an aggressively expansionist empire whose magic is fueled and religion is centered around blood sacrifice. It is equal parts Iria Strell being evil doin’ her cool evil things and Iria Strell falling in love with every pretty girl who crosses her path, so a lot of fun.

there exists a Book 2 and a Book 3 summary as well, if you haven’t read them either feel free to read them or just have fun here with context clues, this one stands alone pretty well and is a lot more readable than the others because I had to actually seriously think about what parts of it made a Good Story out of the....nearly 33 hours of recording that were made of the six chapters. and I think a Good Story did come out! so if you’re willing to stick with me, boy do I have a wild ride for you consisting of: friendship, gayness, twisted emotions of wondering if you’re good enough, coping with the slow loss of mobility from an old injury while adjusting to civilian life, mad science, more gayness, and the friends you make and bonds you forge while dealing with a surprise zombie-coral-crystal-parasite-fungus attack together at your mad science lab.

(tw very mild body horror-- third paragraph of the first (unsent) letter to Talvus, midway through second to last paragraph of the first (unsent) letter to Maldai Varricon, and third paragraph of the official report. also a mild amount of stabbing scattered throughout, but this came from DnD so what do you expect, and a large amount of stabbing in the final battle, which hopefully should be fairly obvious when it begins, also in the official report.)

_______________________

Dear Talvus,

There’s no way I’m going to send this letter, considering you disappeared without saying goodbye, let alone leaving a mailing address; but I’ve been stuck in bed for three days with a broken leg and am supposed to stay put for another two, which means I’ve really got nothing better to do than write.

So I left for Black Lotus Labs, in Insul. I work for the Department of the Craftsman now. I’m a junior researcher in Summer Division, which I was a little confused about at first, considering Winter Division is the Division doing all of the research regarding developments for the Army, but it immediately became very clear that I was assigned to Summer. I’m like a dragon amongst lizards—a scientist, not someone in the guard division, but who has active combat experience. The expedition that I was assigned to certainly was dangerous enough to merit that, hence the broken leg, although the fight with the dryad may have been the least dangerous part.

There’s something here called the Misery. It’s strange and fascinating—not magical in and of itself, we don’t think, just a stage in the life cycle of the moths. It starts out as a cloud of thick mist, although you can see the maggots on the trees before you get to the mist proper. The maggots materialize on color, and leech it away to a stark white. That’s why we had to wear these large, unwieldy full-body suits with a breathing apparatus and mask that filtered air through black cloth; otherwise, the maggots would form in our lungs. They eventually transform into moths, which eat flesh. Very unpleasant, but not particularly deadly, they don’t travel in large numbers and they die when you swat them same as normal moths.

But what the Misery was caused by—well, we call it the Catalyst. It was an artifact in some ancient temple; Talvus, the temple alone is something worthy of years of study. It had working magical wards in the walls and the floors, and it must have been abandoned for centuries. Think of what we could do if we could store spells in objects—powerful spells—that showed little to no decay, that activated on a trigger without needing a mage to activate them.

(I know, my motives are painfully clear. Can’t let the mages have all the fun. One day technology will catch up with you, just you wait.)

But the temple—two or so years back, an expedition found it, and they found the Catalyst in the center of it. They did something, and it exploded. Lux Maelius, our Senior Research Lead, and Ovir Arbutus, a Research Lead now but he was only a guard at the time—they were the only two survivors, because they were outside in a courtyard when it happened. So they managed to make it out. Then there was a hurricane of magical energy that raged for months, then it settled down into the Misery.

We set up makeshift labs in the heart of the Misery, near the ruins. We spent a few days studying it, running tests. I was able to figure out some things about Green magic and life magic that might be adaptable into better healing potions. Two researchers joined us partway—Vennikus, you remember her from when she visited us on the front?, and a friend of hers, Chaera Canth. I tried to jump in a little bit on some of the bugswarm intelligence projects Vennikus was doing, because it seemed slightly more exciting than staring at mist, but I was making more progress staring at mist so eventually I went back to that. This sort of research isn’t really my forte and I was thrown right in with barely an hour to drop my stuff off in my rooms before I was told the expedition was leaving, and I was informed about the Misery as we walked through it. It’s not like it was a waste of time, by any means. I did contribute some things. Suggest some experimental setups. But the real reason we were here became evident when Arbutus and Lux started arguing. Arbutus wanted us to bring the Catalyst out of the Misery, so that it could properly be studied. We took a vote on who would be willing to risk themselves to fetch it. I, of course, volunteered. I know she said why would you seek it, but, well, the Wolf said that to the both of us together and you weren’t here. Besides, it was Serae that was half blown off the map, not Insul.

So we went into the ruins and we set up another makeshift lab around the Catalyst. It is not particularly impressive in appearance: a large, dark, opaque crystal, perhaps the size and shape of a forearm, floating above the pedestal. More notable was how it felt, even to me, rooms away. Like something was just off. Like that twinge in your stomach right before you get nauseous, and it only got stronger the closer we got. And if that was my reaction, well, I’m sure you’d hate it. It has these sparks that seem to interact in my favorite way with life and magic and the stability of energy, namely, by exploding. We’ve tested it against leaves and small bugs—it will annihilate them completely. Felt a little bit dangerous to be doing all the tests considering we weren’t sure what made it explode into the Misery in the first place, but we managed to conclude “don’t let it touch living things and it won’t explode too much.” And we had to, in order to properly design the container to take it back. Arbutus argued and won that we couldn’t just leave it. We made a makeshift case and packed it up with the rest of our stuff to head back to the main labs.

The dryad attacked us a little bit after we got out of the Misery, so at least we could breathe properly again and had the suits half off. It made these golems that went for the carts, but we had three other ex-military folks of some kind or another on the expedition, so I left them to deal with that and leapt straight into the grove of trees and thorns that it summoned around itself, and then we just…fought it out. I was close, I was so close to taking it down. But it got a really good hit in that cracked my femur and then decided it wasn’t worth it and booked it, and delivering the Catalyst to Black Lotus Labs was more important than going after a single native resistance fighter. Although I still have no idea whether or not it was attacking us for the fun of attacking us, because we’re Caedic and this island has decided it hates all things Caedic, or if it actually knew something about the Catalyst. I tried asking it—her, maybe?—you know how chatty I get when fighting—but I’m pretty sure she didn’t speak our language, as all she did was scream incomprehensibly back at me. So now I’m here after my first successful week sitting around in the med bay with a philosophy book Vennikus brought me and some security reports and a couple of interesting research papers, killing time until I’m allowed up and about and back to the labs where I can start working on the healing potions and merging of Green magic and ritual magic properly.

Let’s see, what else is there. I’ve been making friends. There’s Arbutus, who first told me that I didn’t need to act all formal because we weren’t in as strict a hierarchy as the military when I gave him a whole rundown before the expedition about my combat abilities and drawbacks and what I’d be like in a fight because I let Silvanus down when we were attacked on the way from the ships to the labs by a satyr—Saren according to the report the guards here have on him—and these great terrible lizards called dinosaurs he had gathered, because I fainted when I shouldn’t have. After the fight where I kicked all their asses but, well. I still went down. So Silvanus has seen me faint but she was on the “let’s get the Catalyst” side and does seem to at least give me credit for my skills. She has a spear, she’s really cool. I’m still really gay. I think she thinks I’m cool. Please don’t make fun of my attention span. Anyways, Arbutus might be mad at me because a few days after his whole speech about there being no ranks here I gave a fairly impassioned rant in front of the whole expedition about how if we were going to bring the Catalyst out, we couldn’t bring it back to the labs, a separate bunker had to be made until we knew what made it explode or we’d be putting all the Empire’s research at risk, and he told me that first of all, I was right and they’d build a bunker, and second, okay there still kind of were ranks here and I should never speak to him like that again.

Who else. Vennikus is here, and possibly flirting with me. She has a friend, as I mentioned, Canth, so hopefully that’ll go over fine, Canth seems to tolerate me without any problems. And I met Lia Bassus and Talia Aurelia on the ship over, Lia Bassus is trying to do magical transportation and so came with us into the Misery, and Talia’s working on this project that looks into other planes. As in entirely other realities superimposed over our own. There's this weird strange grey realm that she showed me, (perhaps the Arcane Other?), and though it was full daylight when she ran the experiment, through the window of the little room her team had cobbled together, I could see the distant stars of a different sky. Neither her nor Lia Bassus seemed particularly impressed by my altar when I mentioned it on the boat, so I’m pretty sure I’m not at all exceptional for what the expected level of creativity and craftsmanship is here. I guess I’ll be joining everyone for normal day-to-day research as soon as this leg heals.

I miss you, a lot. I hope you’re having just as much fun as me, wherever you are. Hopefully not with the broken leg. Still, totally worth it.

Love, Iria

———

Dear Talvus,

So I work in Winter Division now. Remember Galen Torus? The Exarch who was there when we were presenting the delayed explosive designs to Professor Acari? He showed up and requested me and just me for a special secret Winter Division project. And then promoted me to Senior Researcher on the spot because he was annoyed that I wasn’t being immediately given full access to things for the project because of my Junior Researcher status, which is one way to climb the ranks here, I guess.

There was this…mechanical contraption, found wrecked in the jungle. Some sort of war machine, we think. It looks like a humanoid—it has arms, and legs—but its interior entirely consists of clockwork. Galen and I have spent a few days examining it and nothing magical animated it. It’s just metal. But it moved and it fought and we’re going to figure out what made it tick.

He says that this work is of upmost importance to the Empire, and he’s stayed at the labs to work on it himself, but he still hasn’t pulled anyone but me for the project. I don’t know if it’s because it’s more efficient to work alone, or if the project is more secret than it appeared to be, or if I’m more useful at these kinds of things than I thought. Mechanics make sense to me.

I’ve been working as hard as I can to try not to disappoint him. I stay in the labs the entire day, except unlike you, I grab extra rations at breakfast so I can go through lunch without skipping the actual eating part. I hope that you’re remembering to eat.

Love, Iria

———

Dear Talvus,

So everything’s gone to shit, as it does.

It was just another normal day at the labs, and then the dryad and the satyr and a whole bunch of dinosaurs made the first actually organized attack. Galen and I were working on the construct when it happened. We heard it first. I had a prototype of a weapon from the construct that I was able to strap on in time for the first dinosaur that burst into the room, which at this point I was very efficient in dispatching of. Then the dryad that came after it, which I had a bit harder of a time dealing with. I fought it to a standstill, but it wasn't enough without a proper pair of weapons to gain any sort of upper hand, and all it took was a stumble for the thing to slip past me and attack Galen. I stared in horror as blood spurted from him and he was pushed backwards—only he didn't fall, and the blood didn't flow, it condensed into the shape of a sword and he flicked it out and it cut with no resistance through a large portion of the dryad's hand. She stepped back, in shock, and then turned and fled. Galen turned to me, his back straight, his face hard, his eyes bright. He tossed me the sword. I caught it.

"Finish it," he said.

I grinned and turned to chase the thing.

The rest was...it was both crystal clear and a blur to me, Talvus. I've never gone so deep, so cold, there was something bubbling inside of me like some sort of rage, a perfect insanity. The only thing that remained in my mind were Galen Torus's orders, echoing, Finish it. I know that this sounds like...like there was some sort of compulsion associated with those words, but there wasn't. It's just—he's been this untouchable, unreachable figure. I've worked with him day in and day out for over a month and I haven't been able to get any sort of read on him, or on whether he thinks my work has at all been adequate. I was so ready, Talvus. I was so ready to be responsible, to stay and guard the construct, to admit that it was no longer my role to bring enemies of the Empire to the sharp end of my blade. But in my heart of hearts, I wanted to fight. And there was Galen Torus, showing the closest thing I had seen to an emotion from him in the vicious tilt of his smile, throwing me a sword made of his own blood and ordering me to do the one thing that I wanted to do more than anything else.

In that moment, I would have done anything for him.

I tore through two—maybe three?—of the smaller raptors sprinting along the destruction the dryad had left in its wake. They barely slowed me down. I was getting to a part of the facility that I was unfamiliar with. The dryad's path led to a larger open room with cots, almost like a medical bay, which was strange, because there already was a medical bay and not really enough people getting hurt here day to day to need another. Some guards were off in one corner fighting off more dinosaurs. The dryad was in the other corner, and I lurched forwards, ready to Finish it, when someone in Senior Research Lead robes and a cane got absolutely mauled by one of the larger dinosaurs across the other entrance. I absolutely would not have cared, except with one motion of his hand he magicked his guts back together, finished speedwalking across the room, threw healing on me (which in hindsight, was much appreciated), then wheezed, "I trust from the look on your face that you're rather more of a fighter than I am. I'm going to stand behind you now, if you don't mind."

I absolutely did mind, there was now a very large dinosaur between me and my intended target, but it seemed rude to abandon the Senior Research Lead right after he'd healed me, and besides, the combination of his rank and the power he'd so casually wielded made me think that there was a slight chance that he was an Exarch too, and I couldn't risk disobeying an Exarch's orders. So I tore through the dinosaur in four angry hits, and then as there were no more dinosaurs on my side of the room, abandoned the maybe-Exarch in the corner and finally closed the last of the distance to attack the dryad.

It was a difficult fight. But it—she—could not stand against me now that I was properly armed, and certainly not with the maybe-Exarch throwing magic of every kind at me to strengthen me as I cut her to pieces. And then, as I could still feel that strength roaring in my blood, I caught sight of the satyr Saren halfway up the wall on the other side of the room and just charged him. I had to jump, leveraging myself up a wall to reach him and I plunged the sword into his gut, impaling him. He lost his grip on the wall and the two of us slammed into the ground, driving my—Galen's—blade even deeper into him. He pushed up, scrambled back, tried to run away, and had his back to me, a cowardly death, as I whipped Galen's sword around again and decapitated him. It gets a bit hazy after. I'm pretty sure I charged the remaining live dinosaurs across the room, but at that point I'd put Bishops know how much strain on my injury, and I blacked out.

I awoke in the same room, on one of the cots, with the Senior Research Lead standing over me. Up close I could see he was nowhere near as old as I'd assumed; the cane was some sort of tool of the trade. Looking at his face, he couldn't be much older than you.

He spoke first.

"I must say, you might be the best person to hide behind in a fight that I've ever met. It doesn't really take much hiding when everything goes down in a spray of blood in a matter of seconds."

I wasn't quite sure what to say back, so I just replied, "Happy to be of service."

"You should be fine to stand. I've fixed all your injuries, and that old wound, well, your muscles have cleared for the moment. It's been long enough that they've unlocked."

His robes were still in tatters, and there were bodies of guards and dinosaurs still in the room, so not much time could have passed. His wounds were totally healed, although with his robes in pieces instead of buttoned up higher than most people around here wear them, a huge, roughly circular scar across his throat was visible, which would explain the wheeze. He helped me up.

"What's your name?" he said.

"Iria Strell," I said. It felt weird to introduce myself without rank, but what was I supposed to say? My robes denoted me as Senior Researcher. Consecrated Acolyte—right, Galen Torus consecrated me, I guess he decided that I'd done enough work—still, Consecrated Acolyte didn't really seem to apply, we didn't really...go by clergy rank here. Even though it's been months since we left the Army, I settled with, "I was a Corporal Specialist before here." I guess old habits die hard.

He wasn't wearing enough jewelry for me to judge where in the nobility he would lie, and the Black Lotus Labs uniforms don't include pips on the collars, so I had no idea where in the clergy he ranked, but he was wearing gold, so he was nobility, which meant no matter what I was bowing, and he'd been throwing around a ridiculous amount of power so even if he was too young to be an Exarch, well—he'd totally saved my hide, so I went with the deepest waist bow. I know you don't care, but then he said:

"Qaedius Galseii."

Galseii.

I had nearly snubbed someone Bishop family and had just... luckily guessed that I should do the most respectful possible bow that someone from my station would give someone from a station above me because he'd been good at healing and I didn't recognize that he was Bishop family and just. Thank the Bishops, Talvus, I nearly snubbed a Galseii, I know you really really couldn't care less but that moment was more terrifying to me than the entirety of the fight had been, in an instant of ignorance I could have made enemies of someone who now I think has a great deal of professional respect for me from the abilities that I demonstrated and I didn't because I was lucky enough to guess that hey, maybe I should show more respect than might be necessary to someone with such powerful magic. Well. It was really fucking necessary.

(We've actually been professional acquaintances since, I made the mistake in our second interaction when he politely asked me about how I was and I thought he meant my research not how I was healing and I got overly excited when delving into an explanation of the mechanics of the hand razors, because the hand razors are cool! which he shut down with an "oh just because I'm personal with my patients as my patients doesn't mean we should be overly familiar in any other context" and I just wanted to die but I held my tongue and apologized at the end of the conversation with a "sorry I just get super excited about research" and I think he indicated that he understood and Talvus, it is a snakepit ever having to interact with any other noble ever. I'm bad at this. I'm bad at it and I hate it. But at least I don't think I messed this one up. And either way, I'm still the best person to hide behind in a fight that he's ever met. Haven't lost that yet.)

But anyways. Woke up in the cot, not dead. Qaedius continued, "And, well, I don't know what lab policy regarding this information is going to be going forward, but now that you're conscious, it's probably best if you left Spring Division."

Which I suppose answered the question of where I was. We have a secret Spring Division, not just Summer, Autumn, and Winter. How fun is that!

Things have settled down again. I couldn't move at all the next day because of the strain I'd put on my injury, but the day after I was walking again. I went back to research with Galen. Well, of course, because I couldn’t not, I asked Galen as politely as I could where he learned to make a sword like that from his blood and where I might try to learn it because I would never assume that I could ask him to teach me but maybe if I knew where I could study it I could figure it out on my own. He said it was a technique that only he and the person who developed it—a mysterious her—knew, so it wasn’t something I’d be able to learn or find easily. I thought it that was that, and then I came the next morning to find him clearing tools off of tables. I was worried for a moment that our project had ended; I asked if he was leaving, and he said no, this was maybe the most important work we could be doing for the Empire, just that he needed the space if he was going to teach me. Which just flabbergasted me of what, I was worth an hour off of the most important work we could be doing for the Empire? We’ve been practicing ever since. It’s hard, I can barely make my blood take a shape, let alone reach the metallization stage, but maybe one day I’ll be able to make a sword out of my own blood. Never catch me unarmed at a party again.

And now things are back to normal around here. The rhythms of research. Spring Division, which was entirely secret, has been joining us in the mess hall considering most to all of their buildings were destroyed, and now they’re somewhat less secret but we’re all quietly pretending we don’t notice for the time being and until someone higher up decides what to do about the whole involuntarily declassified thing. I’m working with Galen every day on the construct. Qaedius usually sits with me at meals. As I said, professional acquaintance, but an acquaintance enough that I can talk about my research sometimes because he's actually sitting with me and that is the only thing that is discussed at tables because we're all nerds. Vennikus thought that it was very impressive that I fought as well as I did. She always sits with me. It’s fine. Everything is fine. I wish it were fine.

It took me a day before I could walk again, Talvus. I couldn’t get up the morning after. I can walk again now but it feels worse. Like something in my back has torn. All I can think of is there’s going to be a fight that’s going to be the last time I’m able to fight in any serious capacity, I don’t know when it’s going to be, I’m probably not going to know until after the fact, I just…it feels like I should be weighing every battle I go into with an “is this worth it, is this worthy of being the very last time I’m ever able to fight,” and under that scrutiny a dryad and a satyr that the guard could have dealt with themselves—I don’t know if it was worth it. I don’t want this to be the last time I ever fight. That Galen is wasting his time on me teaching my how to shape my blood into a weapon because how much longer am I going to be able to use weapons? What would you do, if you knew that every spell that you cast might be the last needle you had the power left to thread? How would you…stay you? How do I stay me when the one thing that I was really good at, the one thing that I ever really wanted to do, is not only irresponsible for me to keep doing, but one day it’s just…going to be gone. I don’t know if I can handle it being gone.

I’ve been doing some pretty fantastic science, though. I keep developing things. The hand razors I mentioned. Qaedius didn’t think it was cool. You probably wouldn’t care much either, but the mechanical contraption we found, it had weapons hidden in its arms. I’ve been able to make modifications to these bracers with hidden blades in them, combat spurs that I can use for interception and different vectors of movement. It’s…it feels like hope. This thing has to move so much differently than we move, it weighs so much more, but if I can adapt bits of its structure, maybe I can come up with a different fighting style. One that I’d be able to keep at, even as more and more bits of me start to fail. There are all the official parts of my projects that I’m working on. Trying to make mechanical magic and all that. But I can keep hoping for an entirely new way of approaching combat in the spare time that I have.

I bet Lex will think that my hand razors are cool. He actually answers my letters. He actually told me where to send letters in the first place. You better not be dead.

Love, Iria

———

To Vilum Lex Department of the Doctor Veteris

Dear Lex,

You’ll never guess who showed up out of the blue today. Our mage friend. The big dummy, he didn’t warn me he was coming, I don’t even think he knew I was here. I still missed him so much that I can’t be mad at him. I totally rescued him from some raptors before he even got to the lab proper, so things are back to normal. Just as stressful sitting next to him wondering who he’s going to terribly offend today, although he’s high up enough in the pecking order that I no longer have to worry about him getting in too much trouble for it. And he’s doing what he always does. He immediately jumped onto Talia’s project just hearing it described at lunch—still partially bleeding from wildlife ambush wounds, mind you, but hey, at least he was eating lunch—elbowed his way in past the project supervisor to run his own test and impressed absolutely everyone by pulling a breakthrough out of thin air. And didn’t get in trouble because it was such a great breakthrough. It’s like something has been righted in the world, I can breathe freely again, I know that he’s alive and well and still…him, and he’s back next to me.

So you’ve got to take my side on this, you appreciate sharp pointy things. I have made these absolutely revolutionary bracers that look perfectly normal, you could probably even get them to look decorative, I’m working on a new pair with lined backsides so you can’t even immediately tell if someone takes them off to examine them what the payload is, and all it takes is a directed wrist gesture and out pops a concealed, specially sharpened blade. No one here cares. And then our mutual mage friend got here and he also could not see the appeal of it other than oh, another sharp thing! Like, does he have any idea how much work went into miniaturizing the mechanical contraption to get that all to fit in a bracer? And the spring-loading, in a manner that you don’t have to take it apart to re-load it? And the way you have to temper the metal so that it’s just as strong as a conventional blade, and the attachment mechanisms of the bracer have to be such that it’s just as steady as if it were something that’s being held the way you hold weapons, which let me tell you, was a non-trivial problem to solve. And did I mention I came up with a new sharpening technique? Which I’ve been applying to everything, including the hand razor blade. That’s cool, right, and useful? It’s already saved my life once because the corridors here are too small for it to be reasonable for me to carry around a pair of scimitars all the time, but bracers are easy to just wear and don’t interfere with range of motion when doing research and anyone who thinks I’m paranoid can tell that to the trail of dead dinosaurs and Fae I’ve been carving through here. But you think they’re cool, right? Please tell me you think it’s cool. I am surrounded by scientists who only appreciate things that stab when it’s all that’s between them and toothy death, but it is objectively cool. I will show you my new knife-sharpening technique if you tell me you think it’s cool.

Unfortunately, Vennikus and I haven’t gotten any further in testing the health potion, but I do think it’s still an active project? I’d have to check with her, I’ve been moved to another division. Actually, I’ve been working on another project that might eventually make its way to the Department of the Doctor, there are these mechanical seals that are a bit hard to prepare, but once you’ve got them prepped it’s foolproof, slap them on a wound and they’ll automatically deploy: it’ll both physically bind to the body and act as a bandage, as well as it imparts magical healing. I haven’t had time to test them in the field yet but I’m pretty proud of them, they’ve worked in all the lab trials I’ve run. I’m working to try to develop them further, make them easier to store, easier to prepare, less expensive to prepare, that sort of things. Right now the design includes rubies, and I don’t think there’s an easy way to get rid of that without disrupting the energy flow of the whole thing, but, of course, that’s a significant barrier to mass production. If you have any ideas, I’m all ears.

I hope things have continued going well for you. Let me know if there’s any interesting Capital gossip. It’s all very quiet here, everyone is extremely friendly and gets along with no drama whatsoever, because drama would be a distraction from research; which is great, it means no petty fighting that gets in the way of progress, but I hate being out of the loop. I spent three years in the Army being out of the loop, I have so much catching up to do.

With sincerity, Iria Strell

———

To Celsus Strell The Strell Estate Veteris

Dear Celsus,

I refuse to fall out of contact with you just weeks after I finally got to see you again. Black Lotus Labs is a touch far for visiting, and I’m doing such important work here so I’m not sure the next time I’m going to be home—which means letters it is. I’m a Senior Researcher already. And a Consecrated Acolyte. I am doing absolutely fascinating research here, a lot with military applications, because of course, that’s my specialty, but we’re not really supposed to talk about research much.

But by the Bishops you would not believe how much drama has been going down.

So there’s a researcher here—well, I guess technically she’s an Instigator, she is in charge of starting new projects, she was a Senior Researcher when I met her out when I was in the Army—there was a Fae font that we discovered while mapping out land near the Surrian border, and she came to take samples, and we hit it off, killed a Fae construct together, and I made a joke about if she had any more potions that she wanted to test in the field, well, I’d be happy to test them for her because she gave me a really cool potion that let me shoot fire from my eyes while we fought the thing and then even though it was totally a joke and that was not a good week for trying to get Arcadia to laugh at my jokes, anyways I joked that if she had any other potions I was happy to be a test subject and she just…handed me another potion she’d been working on and said yeah great I should write and tell her what it does. So I guess it did kind of fall flat. The joke. The potion worked great, it helped me and Talvus get a lot less injured than we might have when we were ambushed by a party of Rat Clan orcs coming back from the Highlands. Anyways, I wrote to her and she wrote back and I wrote to her again and she sent me this really cool beetle that let me see magic that was absolutely instrumental in trying to test my altar designs and she was just a really good friend, so I was excited that I was going to be at Black Lotus Labs because even if everything else was horrible, at least I was going to have one friend here, right? Vennikus Callo, my brand new friend. Right?

Wrong.

Well sort of right, I’m pretty sure we are friends, she was waiting by my bedside for me to wake up after I broke my leg in a fight with a dryad and she lent me her favorite philosophy book to read so that we could talk about philosophy together and she’d said that she was really glad that I was a researcher even though she originally thought I was here as a guard because she thought I was smart and could do a lot of good doing research here and she was actively nice to me in all of our written exchanges before I got here, like, really really nice, she didn’t have to be, I was just the soldier that led her to the Fae font and did my job of stabbing the thing that tried to attack her and nothing remarkable beyond that. And then here I was an entry-level scientist with absolutely no background in magic or higher schooling, and she still finds me interesting and wants to spend time with me. Which makes us friends. I think. It’s sometimes so hard to tell, I guess I still have trouble trusting if people really are my friend. But I’m pretty sure that Vennikus Callo is my friend. Actually, I think people don’t really make friends too much here, they don’t tend to socialize out of their research groups, but I’ve been pulling anyone and everyone who wants to come to morning practice to either spar with me or I’ll teach them how to spar—so I’ve gathered Talia Aurelia, whom I met on the ship ride over and has been a morning practice and mealtime buddy ever since, Vennikus, of course, Alexis Corinthian, who is great and ex-Army so by default the most reliable to spar with—and then the breakfast table is sometimes joined by Chaera Canth and some friends from another department, which I think means that my table is the single most cross-divisional table in the mess hall. It’s a really great table. Plenty of friendly acquaintances to go around for everyone.

Anyways. Vennikus Callo. I don’t know how to describe her to you. She’s really sharp, and has an incredible wit. Her memory is insane, she can recite entire passages from books and I’ve seen her listen to information being recited at her and have it down all in one go. She’s really good at fighting, she practices with me sometimes, and she’s holding back, I can tell. Maybe not a trained soldier, but she’s fast. And she just…holds herself with this poise. She conducts herself in a manner around the labs that seems…approachable. Amiable. Easy to work with. But there are tiny bits and places where you can tell that is a conscious choice, that she would have no trouble navigating the highest circles of nobility; I suppose she just does not see it necessary, or perhaps not efficient, to run a lab like that. She is an incredible project manager. She’s actually made a couple of jokes about starting projects in areas that I have expressed interest in, which on the one hand I do think they would be interesting projects but on the other hand I was too busy at the time to jump on anything else, and it felt a little bit like trying to use my friendship to get an advantage, which, also, while she technically wasn’t my personal supervisor when I was in Summer Division—that was kind of Canth, we were partners on a project but I was the Junior and she was the Senior Researcher—but she was still kind of my superior. Although there totally was a time where I had just figured out this way to combine Caedic blood magic and Green magic in this ritual that drained the life force from a plant and then could be used for various things and we were all talking about it at dinner and she seemed really really interested in it and I was like “listen, why don’t I show you, it’s only half an hour or so” and she was like “right now? after dinner?” and I was like “unless you have evening plans?” because there are usually a few hours after dinner before sleeping and people don’t always go back to their labs and she said great and we finished eating dinner and were heading out of the mess hall and she was like “sooooo….my room?” and I was like “oh does your room have plants in it? because we need a plant?” and we just. stared at each other for a moment. As I realized that I was a fucking idiot and Vennikus was definitely interested in me and I’d just been propositioned to and Vennikus realized that I had been 100% serious about just showing her the plant thing and hadn’t been propositioning to her. And it was terrible and before I could say “your room is also fine” she said “right, we should probably do the lab.” Which she also really was interested in the plant thing, we went to the lab, she only had to see me do it once before she was able to reproduce it herself which was pretty incredible and it was definitely not an evening wasted, we both had fun.

So I ended up transferring to another division and for a while I was taking meals in the mess hall less, like, just grabbing food at breakfast to take me through lunch and then a late dinner from the kitchens, which meant we were only really seeing each other at morning practices, I hold those before breakfast. Still can’t shake that Army scheduling of rising with the sun. Anyways, so Vennikus was coming to a number of those, and there was a blood magic thing that my….supervisor? mentor, maybe? —okay this is a total aside, but there’s an Exarch who took interest in me during the Trials at first because of a delayed explosive that Talvus and I developed but then he said that he looked forward to what I was going to do with my altar so I had to do something cool with my altar which was most of the reason why instead of just trying to design a functional altar I designed an altar with bronze needles physically threaded with blood that could cast arcane magic—and I’m pretty sure that he was the one who got me the job at Black Lotus Labs. Apparently it’s not that common around here to get recruited directly after passing the Trials. I guess I showed enough promise? He also had me transferred from Summer division because there was a project he wanted me working on and I’ve been working under him and it’s—it’s great. I’m doing so much more here than I was doing before. It’s just the two of us on this project, and we’ve made so much progress. I couldn’t be more exhilarated. I am serving the Empire here possibly more meaningfully than I have served anywhere else in the entirety of my life, and that’s what matters, you know? I just can’t help but feel that I owe everything in my career to this Exarch. I wouldn’t have done anything special with my altar if it weren’t for him encouraging me, I wouldn’t be here at Black Lotus Labs if I hadn’t been noticed by the Department of the Craftsman for that even if he didn’t specifically recommend me for the job, he was the impetus behind the altar and that had to be what got me noticed. And I was…mediocre at best in my previous division. And now I’ve been promoted to a Senior Researcher and I’m working on something that I’m really, really good at but I wouldn’t have been pulled for this project if he hadn’t specifically pulled me. At least in the Army with Varricon once it became obvious that they were going to keep me in their unit, well—Maldai was Dad’s friend. And I knew what they were training me for, to be a tactician, to continue a career in the Army. I have no idea what this Exarch has singled me out for, or if I’ve even been singled out as much as it was just I was the person at the facility who had the most relevant skillset and was working on the least important things and none of it is supposed to mean anything. But it still sort of feels like he’s mentoring me. Let’s stick with my supervisor because it’s safer and that bit I’m sure about. So— there was a piece of blood magic that my supervisor gave me to practice, mostly to build up my skills because I’m not particularly experienced in that regard, and I was just getting up a quarter of an hour early to practice exercises on that before morning practice. And Vennikus, who didn’t always come to morning practice, did start coming to those because she’s good at blood magic because she’s good at everything and just. She was there to give me tips and spot me, I guess, make sure I didn’t mess up horribly and hurt myself. I was using my own blood, after all. Anyways it was just one morning like any other and we were going through the exercises and Vennikus said, “Hey. Strell. We should hook up.”

And so of course my concentration breaks and there’s blood on the floor and I tried to play it all cool and I think I said something like, “Yeah, sounds good to me.”

And then she maybe said “Great” back and all I could think of was how utterly ridiculous and not suave I was sounding so I tried to re-gain control of the situation by, like, leaning back against the wall to look cool and I tried to say “your room or mine?” except my blood was still on my floor and it was slippery and I definitely slipped in it and fell flat on my ass. And she just. Came over and looked at me. And said “you know, if I weren’t already decided on the matter, you wouldn’t be doing a very good job at convincing me right now.” And I just sat there gaping in a pile of my own blood until Talia came in the room for morning practice and Talia was like “what happened?” and I was just. Still staring after Vennikus and had a moment of oh shit, what do I do, because I had no idea how public Vennikus wanted to be, and I had no idea what Talia’s feelings for me were either, like, I think I’m her closest friend? Outside of my morning practice and thus meal group, I don’t really see her interacting much with anyone? and I wasn’t really sure what my feelings for her were because, like. She’s a really sweet person. A bit shy. Really passionate about her work. And we’d gotten close. Just, I knew Vennikus and I knew I really liked Vennikus and Vennikus just…has this way of being so bright and sharp and multifaceted and makes everyone look graywashed in her wake. But also I…my feelings towards Vennikus weren’t really the romantic sort? Just. She was someone who was already my friend. And I already liked. And she is really really hot.

So I didn’t want to hurt Talia’s feelings but I also didn’t want to lie to Talia, you know? So I just kind of. Kept staring after where Vennikus had left, and then finally got out, “it’s fine, I’m just a gay mess” because that was vague enough that it didn’t actually pin anything to Vennikus if she didn’t want to be associated with me but it was also entirely the truth. And Talia stared at me, and then turned and looked to the corridor Vennikus had gone down, and then turned to me again, and said, “Oh,” and I really couldn’t read the expression on her face but at least she didn’t look….actively upset? And then we just continued morning practice and it was fine.

Oh, the answer was Vennikus’s room, which led to my second big question of so am I supposed to dress up and try at all to look pretty, or do I just go right after I get out of the lab in my uniform and not care? And I was really torn because I have been given solid advice from several sources that I should really try harder to actually look like a noble and bother caring about my appearance, but also, we were all really busy researchers and was Vennikus going to care whether or not I bothered to waste my time and hers trying to put on makeup and I decided screw it, Vennikus had known me for a few months, she knew what a complete mess I was and what she was getting into and if I thought a little bit of eyeliner was going to change her opinion now, I was definitely being stupid, and that the wasted time bit would have been a bigger insult. Which, thank Bishops, was finally something that I was right about, this wasn’t a “put on something a little bit pretty after work and we’ll go on as best a date as we can make happen” thing, she’d already changed into her nightwear, it was a fling, pure and simple. And that bit I can do. Behind-closed-doors flings seem to be my specialty.

And then, just through—bits of conversation, I guess, who’s passing who in hallways, allusions, maybe just instinct—over the two weeks, I became almost positive that Vennikus was also seeing Chaera Canth.

So Chaera Canth. I met Canth on my first week, when I was working on a project out in the field and Vennikus and Canth came to join a few days in. She and Vennikus seemed pretty close? They had exactly the sort of “why are you doing this dangerous thing” “because I’m me? next” dynamic that you only get when you are actually legitimately fond of someone. So I figured that Canth and Vennikus were at the very least pretty good friends if Canth was watching out for her like that, and I really didn’t want the same thing to happen with her that happened between me and Impera Casque during the Trials—namely, Impera Casque decided the moment that I met her that she absolutely loathed me and everything I did, and I’m still not sure why, because I didn’t get up and leave when she and Helena sat at my table or something?—anyways, if Canth and Vennikus were already friends I wanted to make sure that I was playing nice with Canth so that I didn’t have a co-worker who hated my guts next to someone that I was trying to spend time with. And then we were assigned to work on the same project about the connections between Caedic magic and Green magic and we were cooperating just fine as co-heads and I genuinely liked working with her. I invited her to my morning practices when it looked like we were trying to develop a combat application for one of the things we were working on, and she has the background of a ritualist and cleric, not that of a warrior, and so she had been showing up to those every once in a while. She was pretty good, too. And she was one of the regulars at my table during mealtimes. And she’d sometimes catch me and pass on messages to me after morning practice even when she didn’t come when I was hurrying off to get a head start on research skipping breakfast, because that’s the sort of reliable, solid person she is, who would look out for her colleagues. But anyways. We worked together for a while. She apparently really liked my altar design for Craftsman, we had a conversation one morning in our lab with her slamming down papers in front of me and going “Strell, what is this!” and I was really terrified for a moment and this was before Vennikus so I didn’t even know what I did to make her mad except maybe flirt terribly too much and then realized that it was just notes on my altar from the Trials and I kind of shrugged and went “my altar?” and she was all “why didn’t you tell me?” and I shrugged again mostly because everyone here had been working on things and didn’t really seem to care so I didn’t think she’d find it interesting and she went “how did you even do this it’s impossible” and I was like “because I didn’t know enough about arcane or ritual theory to know it was supposed to be impossible?” and she laughed and knocked me on the shoulder and said okay, fair, that was how a lot of discoveries were made, and I really thought we were friends. Think we are friends. I still do. Think that, I mean.

But she’s a good person. She’s a fantastic researcher and an accomplished ritualist and genuinely considerate and at this point it really wasn’t “I want to suck up to Vennikus’s friends so that I can spend time with Vennikus without it being awkward” anymore, I really liked her. And she and Vennikus clearly knew each other and clearly had history from well before I came into the picture even though I definitely did not know that they were seeing each other when I started seeing Vennikus and it was one thing if casual flings were the sort of thing that happened at Black Lotus Labs, I was fine with that, but if it wasn’t—I didn’t want to ruin a long-term serious relationship that Vennikus had if she was serious about Canth and Canth didn’t know about me, but also, I couldn’t help Vennikus cheat on someone who was a genuinely good person, which means I had to try to track down Canth and see if I could…subtly ask, or something?

Celsus I am so bad at subtle. I regret so much skipping out on those tutors that Mom and Dad got for us about polite interactions, because maybe I would have figured out how to be even slightly subtle. Of, you know, tracking down someone out of the blue in a corridor that definitely wasn’t in my segment of the labs to ask “soooo how are you doing” like it was just normal smalltalk and I hadn’t obviously tracked her down for something instead of catching her at or before breakfast and when that only got a “fine,” to “sooooo how have things been going in the division” to which I got a quick update on how the research projects were going fine to “soooo how is everyone doing?” which still didn’t get me the answer of whether or not she and Vennikus were a thing or a thing-thing and at this point I’d already made a scene so I just kind of went “so, you and Vennikus?”

To which she said, “Oh, Vennikus didn’t tell you about it yet? I thought she had weeks ago. Yeah, don’t worry.” I think. Might have been worded slightly differently. That gist got across. I was already retreating (okay, fine, running away) down the hallway blurting something along the lines of “ohgreatthankBishopsIjustwantedtomakesureIwasn’thelpingcheatonyou”. Which also probably was the worst thing to say. I have stared death in the face multiple times and I don’t think any of that was as terrifying as the moment before Chaera answered that question when she was just. Staring at me. Slightly quizzically. And I had no idea whether or not I had just detonated the biggest interpersonal bomb the labs and ever seen and was about to ruin absolutely everything within the tentative web of friendships I had formed or if it was all okay and turns out it was all even more okay than I thought, she knew about us from the start.

So anyways. I think me and Canth are still friends. She’s been acting like we’re still friends. The same table of us all usually get meals together. Nothing has changed, me and Vennikus are still seeing each other and it’s still great. Quite frankly Vennikus might have actually been dropping hints on purpose of “this is not an exclusive thing, I’m seeing Canth too, you get it, right?” and I accidentally signaled that I got it but it just went completely over my head because I’m so new to this. Big exciting false alarm. I wonder if Talia and Alexis think that I’m flirting with them still. Honestly just Vennikus is enough in terms of sheer time management, there’s just so much work to be done with our research. But yeah. Me and Vennikus Callo. Score for Iria Strell. Well. More score for Vennikus Callo, I was pretty useless in the entire process.

Don’t tell Mom and Dad, or rather, specifically, don’t tell Grandmother, I don’t want her getting any sort of expectations that I’ve been forging some sort of web of social connections or Bishops forbid any ideas about me marrying up. It’s just so nice to have friends my age again. I had Talvus in the Army, but Talvus was Talvus and my best friend and that’s never going to change, but is also a guy, and even if it wouldn’t be weird to like Talvus in all his Talvusness I don’t think I like guys in that way, and here I am surrounded by a group of like-minded geniuses who do the coolest science, are down to give morning defense practices a try, even if I’m teaching more than sparring with half of them, and are also all so pretty. So pretty. It’s great. I would happily spend the rest of my life here, if it’s how I can best contribute to the Empire. I guess I had Arcadia in the Army too. I have no idea what we are to each other. Did any letters from her arrive for me at the family estate?

Anyways, I know it probably sounds like I haven’t been getting a lot of work done, but I assure you, I have been making a lot of fantastic progress on a lot of fronts and I will do our family proud. I should probably get back to said work, I feel like I’m on the cusp of a huge breakthrough. Although it’s all so new and exciting that everything is the cusp of a huge breakthrough. I hope that your work has been exciting and fulfilling as well.

Love, your sister, Iria

———

Dear Maldai,

I've been working at Black Lotus Labs, for the Department of the Craftsman. I mean, I guess you know that I've been working here. Or at least as much as I could tell you in my last letter. The letter that I actually sent. Or I guess that actually reached you. I know that I cannot send this letter for a lot of reasons, but I wanted to write it all down, before I forget a single detail.

I met the Bishop Lucan.

There was a fairly serious attack—a dryad and a satyr stirring up some local forces—and I played an instrumental role in fending it off, I killed a number of their forces then both of them—but the damage to the facility had been enough that the Department of the Architect was taking personal interest in helping us rebuild. There were rumors that the Bishop was coming. And then one morning there were rumors that She had arrived. I made sure that I was wearing the best clothes that I had, but more than that, what do you do when there is the chance that you might run into a Bishop in the hallways of your workplace? Prostrate yourself on the floor solidly out of the way when She is walking down an adjacent hallway turned out to be the answer.

(Talvus…tried to copy some of Her needle design. While She was still in the hallway. She paused for a moment and I thought we were both going to die having utterly disgraced ourselves and our names because Talvus couldn’t keep it together for one minute when we were passing one of the Eleven Bishops and then She kept walking.)

The morning went much of the same way, Galen and I continued working on the research we had been working on, which at this point I had managed to develop mechanical wands that mages could store simple spells in. After an hour or so, he sent me away. I went to make myself useful in Summer Division, as I knew my way around their main labs, and I kept myself busy for another hour. Then there was a message spell, red light and Galen Torus's voice, telling me to return to our lab.

I could feel it before I got there, radiating through the door, the air, my veins. The Bishop Lucan — She was there. I had been ordered to enter, so I entered. She was sitting in a throne-like seat woven of red light, the same needles that had been around Her that Talvus had tried to copy, I couldn't — not that I would try to look at Her, but I couldn't see Her, couldn't see any more than a silhouette and the raw radiating power.

Galen was standing off to one side. I dropped prostrate on the ground, and then She — She looked at me.

It was like my mind, my soul, my self was a knot and there was a tug and it unraveled. Every — every memory, every smallest aspect of me laid bare, there wasn't even a me anymore and I could feel Her looking through it. I do not know how much time passed. It stopped rather abruptly. I was still on the floor, trembling. I could tell that She and Galen Torus were exchanging words, but I couldn't catch what the words were. I saw Galen Torus walk over to our workbench, and put the prototype of my — our — mechanical wand down. He turned back to Her.

Everything snapped and I was — I was more myself again.

The voice resounded, thrumming, around me, inside me, everywhere.

"A promising project."

Then She rose and the throne unravelled, shifting and fading into the larger network of Her magic that Talvus said had been suppressing Her full power and who-knows-what-else, and She moved past my prone form and out of the lab.

I met the Bishop Lucan, She looked at my mechanical wands, and She said "a promising project."

I—I knew that I was in over my head, working with Galen Torus. I knew that—that the project I was working on was of vital interest to the Empire. I knew how lucky I was to have caught the attention of someone so important, to work on something so important. But everyone here is doing important things. Talvus is the one—Talvus always was the one—who knew how to do important things, who was supposed to be doing the important clever things. I was supposed to be in the Army, training to maybe be a Captain, maybe a Legionary Captain one day. I was learning to be a Captain one day. This is—it's so beyond anything I ever thought I'd be doing, and while the politics are beyond me, the science, it seems, is not. I'm good at this. I'm as good at this as I ever was at tactics. Maybe not as good as I was at fighting, but a Captain can't decide that the solution to a tactical situation is that they go and fight the entire enemy army themselves because they're the best fighter and I—I guess I never really learned not to do that. So maybe I wouldn't have made a good Captain. Maybe it's better that I'm here now, working on science, technology, weapons for the Army to deploy. Galen Torus is still the mastermind behind this project, and I might not be a soldier anymore, but I know how to be a good specialist, a good tool, I know how to be wielded to do incredible things. And I can't say that it's mine, but some of it was mine. Some of it came from the delayed explosives Talvus and I developed in the Highlands. And not just the wands. The Arcanum cannons. We've—I've—successfully adapted it, created our own. The Rose Gun, we call it. Lined with rose gold. It's smaller, more compact than the Surrian Arcanum Cannons were. Enough that one strong soldier alone could carry it. The payload is not quite as powerful, I'm not sure if we'll ever make it quite as powerful, we're still in the most preliminary of testing stages—but the tactical applications are entirely different. This doesn't need to be planted on top of a hill on a battlefield and defended because it's too large to move. This—this is far more versatile.

There's a part of me that's just waiting for another disaster to happen. Talvus is here too, which means—well, you never got the letter, where I told you about the Wolf of Ears Eyes and Hands, or what she said. How scared she was of us, and not for killing her. I don't think there's anything related to anything she saw here, nothing matches any of the charcoal drawings we took from her tent, but it's still—it's too quiet. I keep waiting for something to ambush us. At least in the Trials, things kept going wrong. There was no letting down your guard. Maybe I just...got too used to war, but I don't trust that the fighting is over. I can't trust that it's over. Things have been quiet since the dryad's attack, and it feels wrong, but there's nothing to indicate that anything is at all wrong. I guess one of the researchers in Autumn Division committed suicide a fortnight ago, and people have been a bit shaken up about that. He dug out his own teeth, which means every time I wake up with my teeth even slightly aching, I get paranoid all over again. I'm running morning practices still, same as I did during the Trials and the journey before that. Alexis Corinthian shows up to nearly all of them, she's a friend of mine from Winter Division, ex-Army, so she's good to practice with. Vennikus Callo comes mostly to watch and sometimes to test a move or a spell, but she's a much better fighter than she's letting on, I don't know why she's hiding it. Talia, who's been practicing with me from the very beginning, literally since the ship we took out here—well, she's alright, but she's not good, it's clear that the way that I'm showing her to move isn't natural to her. Which is—I mean it's to be expected, she's a civilian, and she's more a mage than a fighter. She's improved, but I don't think I'd tell her to do anything in a fight other than stand behind me or run. Not that I'm expecting anything horrible to happen, it just seems...overdue.

My injury is getting worse. It's the natural progression of things, and I have to accept it. I'm learning to accept it. It’s not like I can’t still do important things to serve the Empire. I hope yours are getting better. I hope that if—when—the Rose Guns go into production, maybe then I’ll be able to tell you it was me, I was the one who figured out how to meld magic and mechanics, I was the one who built the first prototype, I was the one who developed the theory. I hope that you’ll be proud of me.

Be well, Iria Strell

———

To Maldai Varricon 3rd Legion’s Meridionalis Barracks Serae

Dear Maldai,

I am writing because your blades have been lost. I cannot tell you why or how, just know that it was in decisively defeating an Enemy of the Empire the likes and scale of which were unprecedented. As I still have the ability to fight, I was hoping to gain from you the knowledge of how you had them specially balanced, that I might commission my own pair.

I hope that you have been healing well, and that the Empire is triumphing on the Surrian front.

May that you be well, Iria Strell

———

Official Report On The Black Lotus Labs Infestation Incident Drafted For Filing Iria Strell, Senior Researcher Acolyte Consecrate

The following is a report of the attack on Black Lotus Labs by the Infestation, and the actions taken by myself, Senior Research Lead Talvus Zhale, Senior Research Lead Qaedius Galseii, and Instigator Vennikus Callo to contain it. While the end result was rather extreme, it remains my tactical opinion that the measures employed were matched to the severity of the threat this Enemy presented; not just to Black Lotus Labs, but to the Empire as a whole. I include at the end of this report all relevant information from the months prior that might pertain to this Enemy, such that a proper assessment can be made.

On the night of the incident, I had stayed late in my lab to work on a personal project as many of the researchers do. As such, I did not take the fastest route back from Winter Division to the sleeping quarters, but rather a more roundabout way that passed near the kitchens, that I might grab rations to make up for a skipped dinner. I mention this because the route passed a corridor which connected to Autumn Division, and it was in this corridor that I encountered my first instance of an infested body. I could see a figure lurching towards me, half falling against a wall as its stumbles extinguished a candle. All behind it was darkness.

I hurried forward to try to help, and I first perceived what I thought to be Senior Researcher Lia Bassus of Autumn Division. I caught her before she fell to the floor. It felt like she was shivering in my arms. It took my eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness that I assumed had been accidental in her wake; the first sign that something greater was at play. What the dimness of the remaining candlelight revealed was as if from a nightmare: the back of her head had been caved in, as if by a blow that I would presume to be fatal or near-fatal on a battlefield. Her hair matted with blood. One of her eyes—part of her face—was gone, and there was a strange, bone-like structure growing from the cavity in its place, spines curling into the flesh of her cheek. Some of her teeth had been dug out, much like Hieronymus Acari's body had been found—the Autumn Division researcher who had apparently committed suicide a few weeks prior.

Bassus raised an arm and struck me, cutting into my shoulder, and it became clear that her hand had been replaced by crystalline spurs jutting from her forearm, a strange shade of teal that seemed greenish-black in the flickering candlelight. I could not tell whether or not she was dead; it had felt like she was still breathing. As such, I did not want to harm her if there was a way to extract this thing without killing her. Yet I could not leave her alone and run and fetch a medic, lest she wander somewhere unknown, or cross the path of another without the advantage of my combat training. So I began to lead her towards the common room off the sleeping quarters, where even at this hour it was likely I might find someone I could send running for help. She shambled after me mindlessly, all I had to do was walk slowly enough for her to keep pace.

I abandoned this plan as I reached an intersection with a corridor that led to Summer Division; there was a shout, and I saw a guard running before he stumbled and fell, and was immediately overwhelmed by three creatures that were more bone-like crystalline growth than mismatched corpse. I immediately updated my assessment of the situation: that this was not an isolated incident affecting only Lia Bassus, but rather a full-scale attack. I left what I now believe to be Bassus's corpse to run to my sleeping quarters and retrieve my weapons and armor, that I might better respond to the crisis.

When I exited my room, armed, I nearly ran into Senior Researcher Chaera Canth, woken by the distant but rapidly spreading sounds of fighting and shouts of panic. As she was a non-combatant, I instructed her to stay behind me as I escorted her to the common room as established by the new emergency procedures. There, I decided, I could take stock of which researchers had made it to relative safety. We encountered none of the crawlers or infested along the way. However, in the common room, I noticed several prominent researchers missing, and resolved to comb the living quarters armed as I was for more survivors. Senior Research Lead Talvus Zhale of Spring Division caught me before I could go and agreed to come with me. We had served together in the same specialist unit in the Army, and as such we were familiar with fighting side by side. He was not nearly as enthusiastic as I was about returning to the unsafe territory of the sleeping quarters or corridors beyond, but we encountered no enemies to or from the sleeping quarters, nothing save the last living stragglers who were evacuating. None of the researchers that I wished to find were in their rooms, so we returned to the common room, Zhale attempting to talk me out of searching Summer and Autumn Division labs alone for those who were missing.

As we turned into the common room, my senses began to fail me. Zhale said something that I could not comprehend, yet I could hear whispering across the room with perfect clarity. The walls seemed to re-orient to a tilted frame. All I could concentrate on was what felt like a point of gathering focus on the opposing wall.

Then all hell broke loose.

A thing burst through the wooden barrier, trailing infested corpses and crawlers in its wake. Everything seemed to emanate around it, to warp from it. I leapt into action, running across the room even as Zhale shouted something at me that I could not understand. The Thresher was humanoid—a strange silhouette, with the jagged bonelike spikes coming from it, the unnaturally long and thin limbs, the crystalline spikes growing everywhere, but especially at the end of its claw-like arms, its deep purple coloring in the dim lighting, a triangular armored head with no eyes but dozens of small clicking feelers beneath it—but it was humanoid and it was moving so I assumed that it could bleed; and I was not yet used to my blades failing me.

The Thresher ripped through a researcher in a single blow, and the crawlers fell upon others. I attempted to join the melee, and an old injury affecting my spine that I had received in my tenure in the Army flared, and I collapsed. A few seconds later I was able to push myself to standing, and tried to attack again, and it flared again. I blacked out. When I came to, the room was partially evacuated, and there was a crawler over me. I shoved it off, and joined those who were fleeing, the guards forming a line behind the researchers as they held a defensive retreat.

As I wasn't running particularly fast anyways, I joined the guards without hesitation. The infested caught up with us as we held out in the hallway. I had dropped both my blades as my injury had dropped me, but I was wearing a prototype of a swift-deploying hand razor within a bracer, so I activated that. The things were upon us. I turned to fight. Yet as I lunged to strike my first blow, there was a sharp twist of pain within me, and I could feel something tear in my back. Guard Captain Saturninus Strabo leapt over my prone form, and struck the blow that I could not. Another guard dragged me back and along with the civilians, and so I was delivered to the Winter Division central complex, as Winter Division seemed to be the least infected and thus the safest place we could barricade ourselves. He deposited me in a chair, then joined the guards who were fortifying the room.

Guard Captain Strabo and most of the guards who remained in the hallway did not return.

After about a minute, I attempted to stand and found that I could not. I could still feel my right leg, but it was limp, and it could not hold my weight. I fell to the ground. This caught the attention of Senior Research Lead Qaedius Galseii, amongst those who had escaped the carnage and had gathered for holdout of evacuation here. Senior Research Lead Galseii had treated injuries of mine in the attack on the labs by Saren and the dryad's forces a little over a month prior, and was familiar enough with it to immediately locate a detached muscle and perform impromptu surgery to return me to my feet.

Research Lead Ovir Arbutus took command of the situation with the poise and authority that his prior experience as Guard Captain proffered him. We did not have the manpower, weapons, or fortifications to hold out against this infestation in any room within the labs, even the relatively unaffected Winter Division central laboratory we were in, for any substantial period of time. He ordered the full and immediate evacuation of the laboratories; to move all personnel to the docks and vacate the island, until the Army could return in force. He asked for volunteer runners to attempt to locate any other survivors in the laboratory and spread the news of this evacuation, and the rest of us would make our way out through corridors we believed to be least overrun, with all who could fight holding the edges of the formation. I could not run; it was a testament to Galseii's skill as a surgeon that I could stand at all, so there was never any question of which of these two groups I would be traveling with. I had the time to duck into the private lab where I had been working, to grab the most important of my notes, and prototypes of mechanically deploying bandages (both standalone and the lightweight underarmor woven of them that I designed). My second generation hand razor prototypes were not near enough ready for combat to be of worth taken, and the partially inlaid barrel of the Rose Gun prototype was too heavy to carry in my injured state, so I left them.

The group was already organized into its leaving formation by the time I returned. I joined the makeshift collection of combatants along the rear. Zhale and Galseii were within the group. We made it a large portion of the way out through emptier corridors, but there were too many of us to move swiftly enough to avoid confrontation, and these things seemed to be tracking us through more senses than our own. They came from the back and from the sides: the crawlers, partially consisting of scattered bits of corpses and held together with wild crystalline growths. The guards and volunteers began to fight them, and it became evident that these things could rapidly regenerate, that cutting them apart did little to slow them down.

Recalling that the corpse of Lia Bassus had been putting out candles, I suggested that we use fire against these things. After a brief scramble to get a torch from the center of the group to the fighters on the outskirts, we tested my hypothesis to great success. We pushed forward with no casualties until another Thresher burst through one of the walls. Research Lead Arbutus moved to cut it off, and I to support him, when a huge crystalline monster, well larger than the largest of the dinosaurs that attack, smashed through another wall. The Thresher's aura was warping my perception of reality, but I saw it slit across Arbutus's throat, and Arbutus fall; so I leapt forward and slapped one of my mechanical bandage prototypes across the wound. The crystalline monster was simply too large and too strong to fight. I was able to kill the Thresher that had attacked Arbutus, but its warping field did not disappear; it instead felt as if to strengthen more as more Threshers began to attack the back of the column. There was no hope fighting, I lost sight of everyone but Arbutus and the guard to his right. We hoisted his body between us, and ran.

We made it outside, as did a number of the others. I blacked out shortly after from the exertion. I came to on a makeshift cot a few hundred feet away from the laboratory complex, with Senior Research Lead Galseii standing over me and tending to my injuries. A brief assessment of the surroundings indicated that Senior Researcher Alexis Corinthian had taken over organizing the survivors to move to the ships at the docks, as Research Lead Arbutus remained alive but unconscious.

Senior Research Lead Talvus Zhale and Instigator Vennikus Callo were the two who had noticed, and were discussing, the larger implications than immediate escape. There had been strange, small, coral-like growths that had appeared extremely intermittently in various locations around the laboratories over the past few months, and Callo alone took the chance to study some instead of immediately purging them. They had seemed to grow from nothing, in a sealed and sterilized container, and Callo had discovered little more than that they must have been feeding upon some outside source, and that they were remarkably resilient, before the worry of contamination led her to dispose of the samples in fire. She made the connection that these growths had been precursors of the Infestation, and that they were not merely feeding upon and incorporating all living things that they could consume, but that there must be a larger unidentified force, presumed magical in nature, supplying them with the power to expand exponentially and with nothing material to feed on. By her calculations, they would overrun the entire island well before the Army would be able to return, and the evacuation itself might still be in imminent danger.

The mention of an outside force supplying the energy for growth gave Senior Research Lead Zhale the idea: that he might be able to erect something based on the principles behind the Warding Wall, that could keep the Infestation from drawing on this power. It would be an immense undertaking, and for it to work, he would need both to lay a ritual anchor and cast the spell separately. As he did not have the raw power and blood magic expertise to lay the ritual anchor in full, he turned to Senior Research Lead Galseii, a frequent collaborator of his, for assistance in this plan. Instigator Callo indicated that she believed she could invert a Green Magic spell she had reverse-engineered over her studies in Summer Division in order to mask the life force of the casters, which she concluded from her research was what the Infestation was using to see and track its surroundings, allowing the casters to recuperate overnight. She suggested the bunker where the Catalyst was being separately kept and studied, far enough away from the main laboratory complex to ensure it would not be threatened in the case of another Misery event, as the ideal place to spend the night; after all, even hidden from the Infestation, the jungle held many dangers.

After ensuring that what I had salvaged of my research notes would make it to the ship, I volunteered to stay behind and provide martial support to the casters. No other guards could be spared. Corinthian agreed after a brief conversation with Callo that she would hold the ships from leaving until the next morning, but longer than that if she had not received a signal from us she would not risk the lives of the other survivors.

The laying of the ritual anchor went essentially as planned. Despite my injured state I was able to hold off the onslaught long enough for Zhale and Galseii to finish. I blacked out again briefly during our escape and retreat to the Catalyst bunker, and came to safely laid in a cot.

The mages—Zhale and Callo—slept immediately. Galseii and I discussed our options, as there is a stiffness in my injury that develops after extended periods of rest, and it was likely that if I tried to sleep I would wake up the next morning immobilized for hours. We concluded that it was priority that I be able to provide emergency support for the casters in the case of Callo's charm wearing off during the laying of Zhale's Warding spell or during our final retreat through the jungle, and that the two of us would remain awake. Under his supervision, I performed a number of exercises to ward off the stiffness, and in the intervening time, I finished incorporating the mechanical bandages into the underarmor I had brought along, and Galseii a series of bloodrunes that he would apply to himself to cause a continuous damage to all surrounding enemies the next morning.

Zhale and Callo arose a little after dawn. In the light, it was clear that one of the stationary growths that had precipitated the arrival of the Infestation had appeared in the corner of the bunker. Upon its pointing out, Callo stated to the group that she worried that the makeshift Warding Wall spell would not do enough; that it would cut these things off from magical continued growth, but only within the radius of the spell, and that it would mean nothing for that which was already here and could consume naturally the life around it. Furthermore, that if any remained in any corners of the island when the Army came back in force, that it might come back, again and again, never truly eradicated. And that was assuming it did not manage a way to get off the island before then.

I was the one who suggested it. After all, we were right there, and I do not believe that I ever saw the Catalyst as anything other than first and foremost, a weapon. It seemed tactically relevant to think of all possible ways to make a thing explode.

"What about the Catalyst?" I said. "Can we set it off? Make another Misery big enough to destroy this thing?"

The idea stopped Callo short. Of all of us, she had been following the research on the Catalyst, and could speak to how it worked: that it disassembled life, and the energy field from that disassembly, if it encountered more life, would destabilize in a further chain reaction, expanding until there was no life left within the field. If it were set off in the heart of the Infestation, the deepest point within Black Lotus Labs, the growth-density ought to be enough for the explosion to reach the treeline, and the blast would overtake the entire island, giving a guarantee that units of soldiers fighting through the underbrush could not of the ending of this threat for good.

As a military strategy, I recommended it to the others as perhaps the only way, given Callo's modified calculations, to secure the island even after casting Zhale's Warding Wall. But for the potential of loss of knowledge and unique abilities of those gathered within this room was also a great consideration, not when all that was needed was for one to wait behind until the others had reached the ships, push their way as deep into the complex as they could, and detonate the thing as they were overrun. Callo was just expressing doubt that any one of us four would not be able to make it in deep enough to trigger a large enough chain reaction, when Zhale woke up.

"There's another way out," he said. "Deep in that building. Deep, deep in that building, there happens to be a window into a probably-not-going-to-explode arcane realm. Big enough for a person to get through, or several persons if they're not dead."

After that, it was unanimous amongst the four of us. With the Warding Wall cast, the Infestation would lose its regenerative powers. With my fighting abilities, emergency support and alchemical prowess from Callo, consistent healing from Galseii to prop me back up, and Zhale conserving his energy for the portal to the Arcane Other that he believed using the scaffolding Autumn Division had created, he could cast — the four of us judged the likelihood of our success and our survival to be well worth the risk of the undertaking.

It was our duty.

As there was little more to discuss, we set out to return to the main labs, the Catalyst with us in its portable protective casing. The first sign that this occurrence was different than originally judged became evident as we reached the clearing in front of the complex where we had laid the ritual anchor: despite the rapid spread of growth the night prior, there was no sign of the Infestation having spread beyond the buildings.

The immediate priority was the casting of Zhale's Warding Wall spell. I can report no technical details on what he did: he wove large and incredibly complex three-dimensional needles, using his own blood to stabilize the structure, then asked that the rest of us first hold magic in place, then contribute blood to increase the complexity of the spell. Callo added her blood first. I added mine second. Galseii added his third. Upon adding my blood to the needle, I could feel a connection to the spell, and could indeed both feel and see the increase in complexity that Zhale spoke of; upon the casting, I could feel a pressure, something outside trying to push itself in, but the spell held strong and Zhale's Warding Wall cut it off.

Callo and I plotted what we believed to be the most efficient route to Autumn Division, given what had been observed the night prior with the route taken to escape through Winter Division; what Callo had seen when she had volunteered as a runner; the assumption that the Infestation had started and was concentrated in Autumn Division and had spread evenly throughout the facility; and prioritizing routes with fewer ambush points or connecting hallways so that the casters would remain as safe as possible and could rely mainly on my martial expertise to push forward, instead of dealing with attacks from multiple directions. This route ensued entering through Summer Division. The assault went with few hitches. That which is notable, I report here: besides the infested corpses, Thresher, and crawlers we had fought the day before — we did not encounter another crystalline Destroyer — we encountered crawlers with tendrils that they used to attempt to grapple, pin, and pull in prey; infested corpses of the local fauna, namely raptors and dinosaurs, indicating that the Infestation had spread the night before then pulled back to the facility; and Threshers with vine-like appendages with a reach of well over thirty feet that they used to attempt to snatch and pull in their prey while fighting. There were also stationary growths on the floor that made no active attempt to engage in the fighting nor did they show any sentience or signs of moving, but remaining standing on these growths one would begin to sink into them, become ensnared, and their insides contained both an acidic substance and many small spines. Zhale's Warding Wall cut off the ability of all of these things to regenerate, but it otherwise did not seem to slow them down. We must have fought between a dozen and a dozen and a half of all of these creatures, myself taking the brunt of the attacks but Callo protecting Galseii and Zhale with a remarkable aptitude from behind, Galseii providing healing and some magical support, and Zhale carrying the Catalyst and conserving his energy to cast for our escape.

In the final room between Summer and Autumn Divisions, we encountered our third sign that the Infestation was being guided by some form of overarching intelligence. The ground was covered by a swarm of strange beetles. Upon lighting and sweeping a torch near them, they scattered somewhat, but more poured from cracks in the wall and the floor until we were wading through them. We stuck as close as we could to the edges of the room, when we were struck by the strong mental pressure against going right; so we eased around the left side of the room. We had gotten perhaps halfway across the room in these conditions when the beetles suddenly swarmed together to form a massive column in the center of the room. The column lashed out and specifically targeted Zhale, and pulled back with the case containing the Catalyst, leaving Zhale on the floor. I had to leap into the column myself to grab and retrieve the case; otherwise the Catalyst and the entire plan would have been lost.

We were very close to Autumn Division once we had made it through the laboratory that had been overrun by the bugs. We turned into the final hallway, to which we saw a humanoid figure, slumped slightly; its weight somehow wasn't right on its feet.

Zhale moved forward and the small light spell he'd been holding cast away the gloom. It was Talia Aurelia.

I was standing in front, so it saw me first.

"Iria?" it said.

"Talia. Rough night?" I asked.

"Not terribly," it said. "It all went well, all told."

At that point, I readied my blades, and drank a refined prototype of a potion for increased strength and speed that Callo had given me. Zhale pushed the light further into the hallway, and it became clear why it was slumped strangely: it wasn't putting any weight on its feet because extending from its back and arching over its shoulders were articulated pointed growths and limbs made of the strange mix of crystalline outcroppings and pieces of corpses. Some were lumpy but many were jointed, clean — an enormous form, something between a centipede and a mass grave.

"So did the Infestation get you, or was this you the whole time?" I asked it.

"There never was a Talia Aurelia. There is only us," it said.

Beyond it, the room was dug out, which huge, person-sized insectoid creatures crawling constantly over and around one another, a roiling sea filling the pit of their own making. The room that we needed to get to, the metal chamber, for Zhale to cast the spell that would allow us to escape — it was more than forty feet up a sheer vertical wall.

"What was it that you thought you were going to accomplish?" I asked the thing in front of me.

It lunged, sweeping with two huge claws that loosed a spay of crystalline needles.

"To pave the way."

Galseii cast something on me as I kept fighting, kept trying to hold its attention so that the others could go around and begin to set up for our escape.

"What for?"

I got three good, solid hits in, but it did not nearly slow the thing down — it plucked me up with one of its claws, articulated spines piercing into me where it grabbed me.

"Come on, we're friends, you can tell me," I said, and thrust up through the chest where the heart would be and ripped the blade out. It looked down at me, smiled, a bit of blood dotting the side of its mouth, and flung me into the pit.

Callo took over the more martial aspects of the fight at this, pulling out a silk scarf that she began to whip around, magic sharpening the end. It took me a few seconds to climb out of the pit, at which point the thing had begun to attack Galseii, and was trying to peel his head apart. I dismembered the limb that was holding him, and took the attention of the Infestation once more.

It was at that point that I was hit by Callo's blade. Her eyes were open wide and shaking, as she slashed it across my throat, resisting but failing to resist some sort of telephysical control. I was impaled twice partially through my torso by the monster. Zhale barreled across the room, as fast as he could run still carrying the Catalyst, and tackled Callo, making up for lack of skill with pure momentum.

She came to again, and shouted, "Legs! Go for the legs!"

I turned away from the front of the thing and ripped underneath it, cutting out five or six legs' worth of musculature. Callo pushed herself up and severed another leg.

That which had called itself Talia, its body tattered and ripped to pieces, chunks of lung and the remains of what was a heart mixed with other viscera, leaned over me.

"I know you though, Iria," it said.

It slammed another of the limbs that it had been trying to use against Galseii into me, knocking me onto my side, and a row of teeth dug into my back and ripped into connection points of the musculature of my spine. The places that were weakest from my injury.

It ripped.

I regained consciousness about twenty feet in the air, in a cradle of silk carried by a massive summoned spider. Galseii and Zhale were next to me. Callo was single-handedly holding the monster off, severing leg after leg with her scarf. The three of us made it to the door in the wall, and tumbled into the compartment. Once we were safe inside, Callo started climbing.

"I need more time!" Zhale said.

Recalling once more these things' original distaste of fire, I dragged myself to the edge and set the webbing that remained on the wall on fire, and the silk hammock that had carried me as well, to throw at the monster. Callo easily dodged the burning bits on the wall, and made it through and into the room. We shut the metal door, and there was immediately a great force slamming into it, spines piercing partially through. Zhale finished his preparations, using my discarded sword to smash through the glass window that had previously been used for viewing in this chamber, and cast the spell. Galseii finished doing something that allowed him at least to prop me up.

The original plan had been for me to be the last through the portal; the one who waited, who could wait and hold fighting who-knows-what while the others got as far through the portal and away from a potential blast radius as they could. This was no longer possible. Galseii and Zhale took me, an arm around a shoulder each, and half-carried me through the portal. Callo stayed behind. When we had hobbled far enough to hopefully be safe; or perhaps when it became clear that the chamber door would hold out for no more abuse, Callo kicked the door open, opened the protective casing, threw the whole thing out, turned and dived through the window, and began sprinting towards us.

There was a booming roar, although muffled; everything was muffled in the Arcane Other, gray, strange. There was the strange sensation of the ground shaking, yet far away, or perhaps a concussive front from the mass explosion occurring right through the window reached us before the eruption of the strange flickering red and green sparks that characterized the destabilization field, blooming out like a poisonous cloud. In its initial expansion it was faster, covering the distance Callo had covered much more rapidly, and it seemed as though all would be lost; but in the Arcane Other, there was no life to fuel this outcropping of the reaction, and it seemed as though all might be well; but the cloud clipped Callo and threw her forward with a force as it began dissipating. The window snapped shut.

Galseii left me with Zhale and ran towards Callo's prone form, even as she shouted for him to stay back; but the red and green sparks that sunk into her were not quite enough to set off a new reaction. She lost her eyes, as she stabilized. Galseii tried to pull from the Caedis healing magic to treat all damages to her, but could not reach anything. Callo waved him off and stood on her own, and without her eyes, pointed us in a direction.

We walked, for what must have been nearly an hour, Callo giving small corrections when necessary. The distance felt similar to the distance that we might have walked from the laboratory complex to the ships; although I am not sure if I could report more exact details, as the exhaustion of nearly two days' without sleep, the exertion of the previous night and morning, and the injuries that I bore meant that remaining upright and moving forward took most all of my attention.

Finally, Callo stopped us. Zhale took several attempts to pull and stabilize a needle, but he did, and we saw through once more into our world: the deck of a ship, for Callo's navigation had been flawless. Galseii all but dropped me through the window, and he and Callo followed. Zhale attempted to step through as well, but had been so exhausted by the amount of casting he had done that he lost hold of the needle, and the portal closed before he was fully through, severing a part of his leg. Galseii moved to cast healing, and Zhale to stop him, but Zhale was a moment too late—alterations that Zhale had made to his blood during the Trial of the Architect to allow him to use it more freely in needles meant that it reacted poorly to the healing spell and lashed out, destroying the hand that Galseii had used to summon the magic. Healing magic was cast on Galseii, and mundane means to stop Zhale's bleeding were employed. The ship, now with all expected passengers, departed with haste to carry the survivors and this news back to Veteris. This concludes my report of the events surrounding the Infestation incident.

I believe that this Infestation represents an unprecedented threat to the Empire. It has not been eradicated, it has been pushed back, and we have no measure of how much this defeat cost it. Its advance force had in-depth research on the Empire, enough to create and impersonate a noble, infiltrate Black Lotus Labs, and to know enough about our language, culture, sciences, and magic to fit in seamlessly in both social interactions day-to-day for months and in its research team. The appearance of Talia Aurelia could not have been a magical construct whatsoever, as it sat and interacted multiple times with Senior Research Lead Zhale, who has perhaps the most sensitive passive magical senses in the Empire and would have immediately picked up on any magical influences in the appearance of its body. It cast simple Caedic needles needed for its research multiple times, and once in front of Senior Research Lead Zhale, indicating that it was not merely parroting but had discovered how to fully reproduce Caedic arcane casting. It knew beforehand of the Capital and the protections in the Capital such as the Warding Wall; Talia Aurelia attempted to engage me in conversation about the mechanics of the Warding Wall when we first met, as well as the research and capabilities of the Academy, and was only thwarted by the fact that I knew little on either topic.

The mechanism with which it used to invade Black Lotus Labs is unknown, other than that it was partially blocked by a spell based on the Warding Wall. The reason why Black Lotus Labs was targeted is unknown; it is my instinct that the project that Autumn Division was researching that Talia Aurelia personally joined was perhaps something that the Infestation planned to use to more completely manifest in this dimension. This postulate is drawn from the facts that Talia Aurelia did choose to focus on the project involving dimensional observation for months and actively contributed to research for the team, that Black Lotus Labs was targeted despite being a well-guarded Caedic stronghold instead of some easier unoccupied place to manifest, and that within the labs most of the concentration and actions of the Infestation were in Autumn Division near the viewing room of Project that Talia Aurelia had been researching and that Senior Research Lead Zhale used to construct the portal for our escape. However, I do not believe there is any evidence present that could lead us to assume that the room and project were needed in the first place for the Infestation to invade, just that it was necessary for the second stage of the invasion.

We must face the very real possibility that we do not know how many other Caedic elves are currently being impersonated or have been created entirely by the Infestation, or that might be in the future. We must assume that the Infestation has the ability to begin a second invasion anywhere in the Empire or in the world that is not currently protected by a Warding Wall, and its advance force alone—that which was sent to pave the way—was enough to destroy in near entirety a high-security Caedic stronghold with a large military-trained guard force specifically present and on the outlook for foreign threats.

I can still feel the connection to the Warding Wall spell Zhale erected. All four of us can. The force that was pressing against it remained pressing against it, with purpose, after the detonation of the Catalyst; it was only hours after the destruction of the advance force that the pressure withdrew. If anything tries to enter the island of Insul with Black Lotus Labs, we will be able to alert to Empire immediately. Senior Research Lead Zhale states that he expects the spell to hold for the span of a month to a few months. The Catalyst now lies in the center of a storm of magic. If its last event is anything to be judged by, the storm will stabilize within the year, allowing for the Catalyst to be fetched or secured at the Will of the Bishops. As for this Enemy and the threat it represents, the actions taken by myself, Senior Research Lead Zhale, Senior Research Lead Galseii, and Instigator Callo put an end to this incident. I can only re-iterate the words that it spoke to us: that it was here to pave the way for something greater. There is more of it out there, more which survived, which ostensibly now also has all of the research that Talia Aurelia collected for months on the very thing it needed to more fully invade. We merely stopped this outcropping, and we know not when it will be back.

———

to do list before reaching Veteris

-- check report one more time for anything missing. make sure no bias. they don’t want your opinion, just the facts. -- reconstruct rest of notes of Project Pendulum for Galen. do not assume any excuses will be accepted. cannot return empty-handed, especially not after destruction of the construct and prototypes. -- Talvus prosthetic design work in mechanical wand parts so can be used for spell storage too worried it might explode (coward). work in snack secret compartment instead -- work on possibility of designing Qaedius a working magic-mechanical hand prosthetic? probably impossibly/ beyond any theory work on it anyway. mechanical anchor based on construct—try non-magical scaffolding version first to model. if works, ask someone who knows better if offering to design with Qaedius would be insult -- visit Vennikus? would she want to see you she has Canth with her, not like she’s alone. still visit, make quick, show no pity or guilt you wouldn’t want anyone to pity you -- take notes on pain in exercises every morning. mobility in attempts to get through sword forms is improving. do not push or strain. not worth it. -- practice being better noble. greetings, dialect, personal presentation. do not write off any aspect. will need.

#gay murder elf bachelorette #dungeons and dragons #my writing #we finally did it folks I've finished writing up Book 4 #I'm very tired so I hope it comes across as coherent

3 notes · View notes

afictionalwhore · 4 years ago

Text

Mr. Tough Guy

A/N: this is for my dear friend @libiraki as a sort of pick-me-up for bad days 💞 it’s my first time actually writing for Dabi and not messing around so I was nervous af writing for the Dabi Queen 🥺

TW: ??? Soft Dabi???

Word count: 2K

•┈┈┈••✦♡✦••┈┈┈••┈┈┈••✦♡✦••┈┈┈•

You rolled on your side to glance at the clock. Glaring electric numbers and letters taunted you back—2:36 A.M. Dabi wasn’t coming home again tonight. You knew you couldn’t get mad at him; it was Shigaraki always sending him out on ridiculous missions. But you were much too afraid of voicing your complaints to the temperamental man-child, so you contended yourself with being mildly annoyed at your pyro boyfriend. You sighed before pulling his pillow across the bed and over you, spooning it and breathing in the lingering scent.

You were almost asleep, when you felt the mattress dip beside you. Warm, rough arms wrapped around your small frame, pulling you into a lean chest. You felt the gentle tug of staples on the thin shirt you were wearing, shaking you awake just enough to be coherent.

"So you finally decided to come home?" you sleepily grumble, refusing to turn over to look at him.

A husky, smoke-heavy voice hummed from behind you before you felt Dabi nuzzle his face gently against your back, careful not to hook any more of his staples in your clothes. You were annoyed enough at him coming home so late without him accidentally ripping your shirt or staining it with blood from his charred skin. Dabi breathed you in.

"You're wearing my shirt, doll," he said, grateful that you were turned away so you wouldn't witness the blush dusting his unscarred cheeks. "You must have really missed me."

"Don't flatter yourself," you replied. Knowing how much he loved seeing you in his clothes but being unsure of when exactly Dabi would home, you had been going to sleep in his loose shirts. The large scoop neck did next to nothing to hold in your boobs, and the hem typically reached your midthigh standing, rolling up to barely come over your ass in your curled position, a fact that did not go unnoticed by the man himself.

“No, Dabi,” you huffed as he began to slowly grind into your ass. “You stink. How long has it been since you had a bath?”

“How long have I been away again?” You could hear the smile in his voice. Dabi never took a bath without you to help him. Bathing Dabi after a long mission quickly became one of your favorite activities. He knew this and was absolutely using it to get back on your good side, though you didn’t mind the fact at all. His latest excursion was almost two weeks, and you wondered how his league mates could stand him for so long.

“Go warm up some water and get some wash rags.” You told him.

“Yes ma’am!” Dabi pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek before rolling off the bed, the mattress springs giving a low groan with the shifting of his weight.

As you rose from your comfy position, swinging your legs over the side of your bed and planting your feet on the cold floor, you remembered the first time you had given Dabi a bath.

You had, simply put, a rough day at work. You knew that when working retail, most days would be simply not good, but that day really took the cake. Somehow the blame for everything landed on you, despite the problems originating in different departments. Your fuse was blown short when a middle aged woman insisted she knew more than you, screaming that she wanted to speak to your manager and accusing you of "withholding" items from her when you didn’t take her expired coupon for an item that she didn’t have and you didn’t carry. Somehow "ma'am, we don't even have a back to check. I’m sorry," escalated into "you dumb bitch can't get laid and has to take out her pent up frustration on retail workers." Needless to say, your boss did not appreciate the comment, and you were told you had to be "let go", as though he was trying to break up with you gently instead of firing you.

You would much rather go out and get something to eat on days like this. Chicken nuggets, fries, something greasy and comforting. Unfortunately for you, you and Dabi had recently started a budget, after a scare of not making rent due to spending too much on delivery and takeout. With your newfound unemployment, you decided the wisest decision would be to just go home and take out your frustration on some poor helpless rice cakes. Spicy but simple was perfect for the day you were having.

That’s what led to you hunched over the stove, saibashi in hand, viciously stirring the bright red sauce into the cylindrical gooey rice cakes.

“I need your help,” Dabi had said, appearing in the small entryway between the kitchen and your bedroom.

You stopped your stirring. Dabi needing help meant one of two things: he needed to hide a body or he wanted a blow job. After the day you had, you were in no mood to play any of Dabi’s games. You turned fast to face the man, almost giving yourself whiplash and pointing your chopsticks at him as though you would stab him if he didn't choose his next words very carefully. Dabi took a step back and raised his forearms up in surrender.

“What do you want?” you practically growled at the man, shaking your chopsticks and dripping red sauce on the floor below.

“Do you think you could help me take a bath?”

Your eyes went wide with shock before realization of his request set in, and your features immediately softened, the muscles holding you tense relaxing, as Dabi gazed at you with a shy, almost sheepish, expression. You gently set the poor saibashi that were about to snap in your grasp down on the counter beside the stove.

“Okay, baby,” you said, smiling at him, the corners of your eyes crinkling, tears threatening to spill over at his sweet request. “Of course! Why don’t you go get some warm water and a soft rag?”

Since then, Dabi would every so often request help with a bath. It was always something that he had to be the first to mention. This was a side of Dabi you cherished. It was like watching the hummingbirds sip from the nectar feeder outside your window. To ask of it yourself felt almost akin to trapping the bird and keeping it under lock. He would never tell you what it was that made him finally decide to look more after his hygiene. You had the slight feeling that it was his insecurities settling in. Everyone in Dabi's life had abandoned or used him, and you had deduced that he feared you would leave him if he didn’t start to take better care of himself. The scent of light cherry blossoms and sweet peaches radiated from you while he smelled of rotting flesh and old cigarettes.

You made your way to your bathroom, a typical affair for a tiny Tokyo apartment, but it was just enough for you and Dabi. You pushed the sliding glass shower door open and stepped in, knocking over a few almost empty bottles, still clad in just Dabi's white t-shirt.

He sat on a small stool placed in the center of the shower, glancing up at you as you slid the door open. The seat was just a little too small for him, forcing his knees to bend awkwardly up to his chest as he slouched back over. You drank in the sight of him. From the scars that decorated his chin and the top of his chest, forearms, and legs to the gleam of the staples that just barely held him together. You loved everything about him, despite the patchwork of purple scars that littered his body. You had a feeling deep down that despite his rough exterior, Dabi was insecure about his body. When you had met, he smelled of rotting flesh and cigarettes, and while he still retained the smoke smell, you figured that he began to grow self conscious over how you may have perceived him.

You started with his face, dipping the soft rag into the bucket of warm, soapy water Dabi had made before pressing it gently over his closed eyes. You made your way around Dabi's face, lightly patting the warm, damp rag against his skin.

Dabi made a small hum in the back of his throat as you made your way to washing his neck, the same gentle patting motion you had used to wash his face.

"That feels really nice, doll," he sighed.

You moved on to his arms, starting with his right shoulder and gently nudging him to rotate his arm. With as many times as you have done this now, it didn’t take much for Dabi to pick up on your wordless request. You worked your way down his arm and back up, wringing the rag out to run down the drain before dipping it into the clean, mildly soapy water to start washing his left side.

As you repeated your gentle motions on his left arm, you noticed Dabi staring off. He looked deep in thought, enough to worry you as Dabi usually had a sharp tongue during his baths, hoping to stir you up and enjoying watching your face flush with embarrassment at his crude words on what he planned to do to you to repay you.

“You tired?” you asked, a small smile crossing your face.

“Mmmm” Dabi nodded. “Yea, I guess.” You decided not to push it and rang out the rag again so you could move on to his chest.

As you pat the damp rag onto his collarbone, careful not to let the charred skin get any more damp than what was necessary to keep him feeling fresh and clean, you heard Dabi mumbling.

“What was that?” You looked up at him, eyes wide in fear that you had hurt him. Dabi was still staring off to the side.

“I’m sorry,” Dabi murmured, barely audible despite your closeness. “For being away from you for so long.” He still refused to look at you.

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Was Dabi really apologizing? And for something that deep down you both knew wasn’t truly his fault. The Dabi you knew would never, even if bathing Dabi did tend to bring out a softer side of him. You were dreaming. You had to be. You had fallen asleep, waiting for Dabi to come home, and ended up dreaming of bathing your lover.

“I mean it,” Dabi whispered, looking down at you with bright blue round eyes more befitting of a small husky puppy than a wanted arsonist. "I'm sorry. You put up with so much from me. You could have left at any time while I was away, but you didn't. You just kept waiting and trusting I'd come back." Dabi took in a deep breath. "I think I love you."

Despite his frightening exterior, Dabi was truly quite soft; he just often had trouble expressing that softness. Bathing Dabi brought out a side of him that only you saw, a sweet, lonely man who so desperately wanted to open up to someone but was afraid of being abandoned or worse, betrayed. This was who Dabi really was underneath his tough guy shield. This was the Dabi that you loved. Something must have happened while he was gone to make him really open up to you like this, but you didn’t want to pry; Dabi would share in his own time. Just hearing those three little words was enough for you.

You tried your best to stifle your tears, ducking your head down and dropping the rag in a pitiful attempt to hide your tears.

“Aw damn,” nothing got past him. “I went and fucked up again didn’t I?”

“No,” you started, sniffling lightly. “No, Dabi. I’m just really happy you’re home. I love you, too.”

“Hurry up, would ya!” Dabi tried to bark, an attempt to gain back his tough guy act. “You've still got my whole bottom half to do, and I’m getting cold over here!”

You couldn't help but giggle at him, pressing a sweet peck to the scarred part of his cheek and fully enjoying the blush that crept up the rest of his face.

#soft dabi #dabi mha #dabi x reader #idk how to write Dabi #mha

403 notes · View notes

cherriesfineline · 4 years ago

Text

Au Pair – Chapter I

It's finally here – I'm sorry this took so long, this past few weeks have been a mess but here it is, our first chapter for the Au Pair series; I kinda hate this, ngl- I always hate first chapters, a lot of introductory info and bla bla but yeah.

In the weird case you happen to enjoy this and want to be added into the taglist (starting next chapter) you can request it here.

Feedback, likes or reblogs are so, so appreciated! I'm very much new to the whole writing world so yeah it'd be really helpful to hear your thoughts about this <3

Love you all, have a wonderful week beauties!

Warnings: none specifically for this chapter – age gap.

WC: 6.6k

Masterlist

Y/N was tired, to say the least.

And it wasn’t the tiredness she used to feel after a long work shift at her previous job -where her boss was an old, grumpy lady with horrible manners- or the exhaustion felt after spending hours crying due to a fight with her mother. No, this was different. It was a tiredness she couldn’t get rid of; a tiredness no lavender smelling bath or hours upon hours of sleep could amend.

She couldn't pinpoint the exact moment her brain shifted in such a drastic way. Y/N could easily recognize and admit her life had never been an exciting one; a memorable one. Ever since she was a little girl it all seemed to fly by; graduations, birthdays, friendships – nothing ever seemed to leave an impact and nothing ever seemed as exciting as everyone else put it to be. She knew she struggled with allowing herself to enjoy things, but this far her life had been pretty average.

Maybe it was the fact that she was 22 years old and never been in a real relationship what skyrocketed her fear of dying alone. Now, she knew it might seem exaggerated – 22 years wasn’t a long life at all, but the pungent emptiness she’d been feeling felt like her inevitable destiny – like that’s how life was supposed to be for her.

England felt different, though. But in all honesty, her emotions hadn’t had switched into completely different ones like she’d expected to happen when she applied for this job as an Au Pair all the way back in February.

With a steaming hot cup of coffee between her cold hands, she sat down next to Coco (a very soft grey Scottish Fold) on the giant couch of her new home, scratching in between his tiny ears earning a low purr in response. Coco had become one of her closest friends so far, along with Anya, a three year old girl with cute blonde locks and a laugh so contagious it made the muscles on your cheeks ache after a long playdate.

Maybe moving away wasn’t the smartest choice. It actually might be one of the stupidest choices she had ever made, actually – moving all the way across the globe when she cried herself to sleep most nights due to her loneliness overcoming her (almost inexistent) self-awareness. Y/N liked to believe she had a wide understanding of her emotions, but it was a blatant lie.

At least she was distracted for most of the day – taking care of two kids and looking after a teenager wasn’t an easy task. It required a lot of mental presence; but by the time she was in bed at night, it all hit back again. She thought maybe this is how life is supposed to be for her, lonely – maybe it was not her brain playing her tricks but her brain making her see how her life truly was.

It’d been two weeks since the Lockehold family picked Y/N up from the airport, and on one side getting physically adjusted to this new life hadn't been as rough as she thought it’d be. She did have it easy, if she had to admit – a big room in a giant, beautiful home and a car to her disposal. Emotionally, on the other side, life was still the same.

She knew the moment she heard heels hitting the cold marble staircase Bella was on her way down with Ivy, the eldest of the three sisters, following close behind, complaining about a hangout she was apparently going to miss because they “are expecting a guest” as Bella announced, meaning neither of her parents could drive her. That’s how Y/N found herself sitting in her (borrowed) blue Jeep Renegade driving Ivy to her friend Lily’s house – who lived in the same rich, over-the-top neighborhood as her guest family, which meant the ride to and back was no longer than twenty minutes. During those minutes together, though, Y/N could physically feel the irritation running through Ivy’s blood because first, she still wasn’t too fond of Y/N because she is 16 and doesn’t need a babysitter -her words, not Y/N’s- and second, Y/N is still not accustomed to driving on the other side of the road.

Technically, Y/N had the weekends off. Living with the same people who employed her gladly didn’t mean working 24/7, but she hoped she could earn a couple of points in her favor if she took her free time to drive her around.

After a short conversation between the two (where Ivy refused to save Y/N’s number in case an emergency came up because she could always call her dad), Y/N dropped her off and drove back to the Lockehold’s. What caught her off guard, was the sight of someone in the driveway at the house next door getting suitcases out of the trunk of a black cab – there hadn’t been any movement in the old Victorian mansion since she’d moved in next door. A man, definitely very tall, dressed in a dark suit is all Y/N could decipher since it was already dark outside and she had to strictly concentrate on not switching to the opposite side of the road out of habit.

Alex was coming down the stairs when Y/N locked the front door – Bella’s husband was a very handsome man for his age, probably anyone could admit it. He was kind of scary sometimes, but was a true sweetheart on the inside; he’s in his mid-40’s and it was clear as day his family meant everything to him, he even treated Y/N like his own daughter, always making sure she’s comfortable and inviting her to most family hangouts – even though Y/N declined pretty often to allow them to have quality time as a family (and because being too socially involved drained her, but they needn’t have to know that)

“You wanna join us for dinner? We have a guest tonight. A family friend.”

“Oh, no, I'm good, you guys enjoy yourselves. I’ll say hello, though.” Y/N replied with a smile; and as before mentioned, even though she had the weekends to herself, they still loved to insist on her joining them for fancy dinners and whatnot. The Lockehold’s loved being hostesses, loved having people around (from what Y/N learned this past two weeks) but she really wanted -and needed- some time for herself after being with them the entire week, and even though she loved hanging out with them, she just wasn’t in the mood tonight.

“You sure? Bella made homemade pasta, from scratch. Her specialty.” Mouthwatering, Y/N thought. Bella was such an amazing cook, and even though she worked hours upon hours every day, she still came to her husband and kids in time to make dinner every night, not missing a single day.

“Sounds delicious, but I think I’ll pass, I’m just really tired.” And before anyone could make another comment, the loud bell ringing through the main floor of the house startled Y/N as it’s louder than ordinary – and sounded kind of old and creepy, in her opinion. By the time the constant thud in her chest lowered to a normal speed, she could recognize Bella’s voice in the foyer, meaning she was the one who received their guest, with a deep voice following after saying 'thank you for having me'.

"He's here!" Alex clasped his hands together, a wide smile appearing in his face. Y/N followed him into the living room where Bella was already chatting animatedly with a man; tall and with broad shoulders (but not excessively; just the right amount) his figure was leaning slightly forward as he listened to Bella rambling about all the 'good things he had missed while he was away'. His hands were clasped on his back and when he lifted his head, he made direct eye contact with Y/N without even having to search for her eyes. His brown curls were perfectly placed on top of his head looking extremely soft, and when he ran his hand through it Y/N couldn’t help but swallow harshly. He undoubtedly looked like someone who belonged in Hollywood next to a young Leo DiCaprio and he was definitely older than Y/N – probably already in his 30's, she guessed, but ageing like the finest wine. He had the softest looking wrinkles in the corners of his eyes – those eyes, forest green; reminded Y/N of what used to be home for her. His intense gaze held a lot of emotion, a lot of thought, unlike his face, that appeared stiff and cold, with a slight crease between his brows. His pink, heart-shaped lips were pressed in a line, a cute mole adorning one side of his chin.

"Harry! It's so good to see you, we've missed you." Alex's excitement forced him to drift his gaze away from Y/N, leaving her like a heated teenager salivating for him. Y/N honestly thought he might had left her speechless and most likely with increasing probabilities to make a fool out of herself if someone needed her to talk, as she was certain she wouldn't be able to formulate any coherent sentences.

Harry. It totally suited him, Y/N repeated his name a couple of times inside her head to check on its pronunciation. Alex reached him and pulled him in a big hug, patting each other's back, and Harry's lips broke into a huge smile making a line of pearly white teeth appear. And dimples. God, he had dimples.

This is how I die, Y/N thought.

"So good to see you, Alex." If sex was a sound, his voice would definitely be it.

"Your skin is glowing, Harry. Italy always does you wonders." Bella gushed. And she was right – his skin had this beautiful golden undertone, but it looked natural and radiant, almost like the sun itself kissed and caressed his skin with the softest touches. Alex snapped Y/N into reality when he turned to face her and grabbed her hand to pull her closer to them, starting a long introduction no one was paying much attention to, explaining how he’d missed her arrival, like he even cared, and how she was the Au Pair they’d all been talking about ever since February. It wasn’t until Alex mentioned something about Y/N and Harry probably seeing each other a lot she was suddenly interested in what was actually going on.

“He owns the school the girl’s attend.” Alex directed towards her. Now, Y/N assumed the moment she laid eyes on him he was probably rich – who wears a suit to a Sunday dinner with friends? Rich people are weird, that’s something we can all agree on; but owning a school which’s monthly fees per kid were worth three of her salaries? That was quite unexpected.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Harry." Y/N offered him her hand, trying to sound as casual as possible, even if her skin felt like it was burning under his intense gaze and her eyes were definitely betraying her.

"The pleasure’s all mine, Y/N." He shook her hand. His strong hold sent shivers down her spine; the cold rings making a big contrast against the heat his hand radiated and she couldn't help but fantasize about how his touch would feel in some other places.

The sudden embarrassment feeling hot against her cheeks made her turn around impossibly faster, feeling guilty at the dirty thoughts consuming her brain while around her bosses – and in front of him. Making a beeline straight to her room, announcing she was calling it a night, she sent Harry a quick -but quite charming- smile, and couldn’t help but soften at the sound of Anya running down the stairs yelling an excited ‘Harryyyy’ once she was past the kitchen.

She knew she got lucky with her commodities – an entire studio-like apartment past the main kitchen of the house, where the servant’s area used to be located a handful of decades ago; but she cussed in a whisper when she remembered half way through her making of a sandwich (four hours after she’d retreated to her bedroom and because she decided on skipping dinner that night, not having enough energy to cook) that her lazy ass still hadn’t bought mayonnaise. Her small kitchen had enough space to hold her snacks, along with some ingredients to make a few meals, since she only had to worry about food on the weekends. Reluctantly, she took the small plate holding her sandwich and made her way towards the main kitchen. There was no way in hell she’d eat a sandwich with no mayo – never in a million years, too dry to go down her throat.

I guess they won't mind if I grab just enough to put on my sandwich, she thought. The house was quiet, everyone probably already in bed, therefore she almost pissed herself when she found Harry sitting in one of the kitchen stools, looking down at his phone with an annoyed expression adorning his face. Almost as if he could sense someone was in the same room, he looked up to find Y/N standing at the kitchen threshold, his face abandoning any sort of emotion.

"Hey."

"Hi." Y/N walked towards the fridge on the far right of the kitchen, opposite from where she came in. "Sorry, I thought no one was here."

"Don't worry, just waiting for Bella and Alex to come back down to have some tea, they're putting the girls to sleep. Would you like to join us?" He offered. And honestly, she'd love to say yes and just listen to him talk with that deep, melodic voice, but her stomach was really hating her right now.

"I'm good, just grabbing some mayo. Thank you, though." She declined with a small smile.

"Next time." He sounded more demanding than suggesting, which slightly baffled Y/N. "Can I ask where you are from?" He asked respectfully.

"A small town in the Argentine Patagonia." Y/N replied with her back facing him as she busied herself with the mayonnaise container.

"Never been to Argentina. Or anywhere in South America, actually." And when Y/N turned around, sandwich in hand ready to go back to her room, their eyes met across the kitchen and she felt the heat creeping up her neck for the second time that night. Y/N wondered how his gaze was always this intense – she wasn’t a fan of how they’d barely exchanged a few words and somehow she felt so exposed.

"You should. It's beautiful." She almost, almost, choked on her own words and when she looked down at her fuzzy pink socks and back to him to try and calm her growing nerves down, he surprised her when she caught him looking up and down her body – in any other case she definitely would’ve felt creeped out, but there was something about him, the fact that he definitely didn’t do it with the intention of her catching him (she noticed how he shifted uncomfortably on his seat after the exchange) and how he simply added a “I’m sure it is," afterwards, she knew she was fucked right then and there – she wanted him looking at her. Was that something bad?

But then – then she remembered how she was wearing her soft cotton pajamas, and she began wondering if he was just laughing internally at her outfit instead of checking her out like she initially thought. And just like a save from heaven, Bella and Alex appeared in the kitchen discussing who was picking Ivy up from her friend's house. "Hi Y/N, still awake?"

"Yeah, got hungry. Stole a bit of mayo, hope you don't mind." She shyly held the plate up.

"Please, this is your house too." Alex waved her off.

"Thanks. Gonna go back now." Y/N pointed towards the small hallway that led to her room. "Goodnight." Turning her body to walk away, she caught Harry's eyes, again, still staring at her, but decided on simply walking away, breaking eye contact, making that small interaction their last one for the night.

The following week consisted of Anya and Y/N playing lots of fun games, trying to get a word out of Charlie and Ivy ignoring her for the most part. Her relationship with each of them was completely different, each trusting her at their own peace, getting used to having a stranger around. Anya seemed the only one openly excited to hang out with Y/N every day, and even though she could tell Charlie didn't exactly mind her presence, she still hadn't talked to her as much as she'd like her to.

"What are you up to, Charlie?" Y/N asked the seven year old as she sat next to her in the big playroom they had on the main floor. Charlie kept her gaze locked on her drawing with a handful of crayons on her right hand as she drew with her left. "You're left handed? That's so cool!" Bella had mentioned some time ago that Charlie had a really hard time letting people in, Y/N knew it'd take some time for her to see her as a friend -like she wanted her to- rather than someone who gets paid to hang out with her, but Bella confessed Charlie was actually really excited to meet Y/N, which felt like a small relief, knowing she actually wanted her there – unlike Ivy. Charlie spoke only when necessary and struggled with making friends but her psych pedagogue said she's just really shy and that ��once she breaks out of her shell, she's unstoppable’. "I love the birds you drew here." Y/N pointed at some small birds sitting in a tree branch.

"Bluebirds." She murmured.

Getting a single word from her was considered progress, in Y/N’s opinion, but that’s all she got for the entire afternoon – even after constantly sending comments her way while playing with Anya so Charlie wouldn’t feel left out, not a single word came out of her mouth. Anya mentioned Harry at some point while talking about her favorite doll (which Harry had gifted her for her 3rd birthday) and the flash of captivating green eyes almost blinded her internally (she couldn’t deny she’d thought about Harry every once in a while this past week)

And it wasn’t until later that same day, after spending a long while sitting alone in a nearby park, she got the chance to see him again – even if he had scared her (almost) to death, she couldn’t help but feel an annoying flutter in her stomach.

She would like to say she loved her long walks during the most unreasonable times at night, but her reasoning behind her late night needs of distraction didn’t exactly thrill her. It was during the quietest and most peaceful times of the day when her mind seemed to speed faster than ever before; the sleepless nights and brain-wrecking thinking of how alone and empty she actually felt, along with the laziness and reluctance when it came to things that used to make her happy weighed her down like carrying a sack of potatoes on her back.

As she was walking past her neighbor's house (the one where she had seen that man with the suitcases last week) she noticed someone sitting on the large porch. Weird, she thought. She hadn't noticed any movement in the house since that night a week ago, to the point she even considered it being empty again. The silhouette seemed oddly familiar though she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

"Y/N." She slightly jumped as she heard them call for her, in a strong and deep accent. Was that...

"Harry?" She asked befuddled. Did he live there? She watched as he stood up from his sitting position on the outdoor couch and walked across his front yard to take a closer look at him stopping at the bottom of the short staircase that leads to the porch. "What are you doing up so late?" And then something clicked in her brain – he was probably the man she saw that night, with his suitcases. It made sense, how he probably got home from vacation the same day he had dinner at the Lockehold's – the same day Bella mentioned something about him being in Italy

"Can't sleep." He simply replied, with a small sigh. He then nodded to the seat behind him, and Y/N could physically feel her brain going a thousand miles per minute. She sat on the far left of the couch as he retook his seat on the right, "what are you doing up so late?" He repeated her question.

And Y/N repeated his answer. "Can't sleep."

So they sat in silence, what felt like hours barely being a few seconds. "Didn't know you lived next door." Y/N took the time to take in his side profile - sharp and long nose, the tip curving slightly downwards when he spoke the next line.

"Never mentioned it." He replied apathetically. The unexpected switch in his tone made her immediately shut up, and even though it confused Y/N as to why he would want her joining him if he didn't want to talk, she was dreading going back to her room alone to drown in her thoughts again. She'd take uncomfortable company over being alone when her head got like this, it helped her get distracted; overthinking this situation instead of the same scenarios that constantly lived in her head.

They again sat in silence for a while, this time for longer than a few minutes, and even though it was slightly uncomfortable, there was an unspoken understanding between them. He just wanted company, and so did she. This time, however, it was him who tried for conversation. "Why did you choose England for your Au Pair program?"

"I was actually convinced I was going to choose France," Y/N shared with a soft tone, "but when I met the girls in one of my interviews I just knew I had to come here. Anya was so excited about meeting me, she thought it was already settled." She ended with a small smile on her lips. The memory of Anya smiling happily at her through the computer screen even when she hadn't had met her yet warming her heart.

It was true, the fact that she’d chosen England because of the girls. She wanted to learn French – she knew her way around the English language pretty well; but the French family whom interviewed her didn’t come close to the Lockehold’s at all – she thought maybe the experience of living in a whole different continent with a wonderful family was better than choosing a place because of the language – the experience was being experienced either way.

"Anya is a very special kid. They all are." Harry declared, the left corner of his mouth turning upwards in a small half smile.

Y/N nodded slowly before asking, "How long have you known them?" She could recall Alex saying he was a family friend – but she had no other information about him besides that.

"A while." The small conversation went for a long while, he shared the real reason as to why he was awake so late, explaining how he has struggled with falling asleep ever since he was young, but besides that comment, he kept his life very private; not sharing much information about himself during their chat, and every time Y/N reciprocated a question, he would either answer vaguely or didn't answer at all, changing the subject with another question. "It's really late" He commented, Y/N’s phone reading 1:08am.

"Yeah, I should probably go to bed." She lifted her head to look at him, who was already searching for her eyes. Y/N cleared her throat when a few moments passed by, again, with no one speaking a word. She wondered what could possibly be going through his head at the time, but he nodded, got up and said, "I'll see you around, Y/N." Her name flowed so nicely out of his lips it made her knees get weak. Locking herself in her bedroom (after entering it by the door at the side of the house – which leaded straight to her room) she laid in bed trying to understand why they’d just hang out in his front porch way past midnight when they clearly didn’t know each other very well – or at all, better said.

First day of classes came by in a heartbeat. The first Monday of September Y/N found herself getting up earlier than she was accustomed to, since the girl's sleeping schedule was different during the summer. 6:15am read her alarm when she lazily threw the soft covers off her body. A quick shower and minimal makeup application later, she stood naked next to her bed checking the weather app, as to know how to prepare the girl's clothes.

After putting a soft pink sweater on and a pair of flared jeans, Y/N left the warmth of her room to wake the girls up. Going for Charlie first (since she didn't need any help changing into her uniform and Ivy used her own alarm) she didn't give Y/N any work at all, waking up immediately after softly calling her name once. Picking her uniform from her closet and leaving it for her to change, Y/N left Charlie’s room to walk towards the next door.

"Morning, Anya." She whispered as she brushed some of her hair out of her face. Anya’s little nose scrunched up and a soft whimper left her mouth as she switched positions, now laying on her side, "gotta wake up, love." Y/N shook her arm softly, and she finally opened her eyes, a tired smile creeping up her face as she noticed it was Y/N sitting next to her. Y/N left her to rub the tiredness off her eyes while she picked her clothes (since her daycare was at the same school her older sister's attended -Harry's school, Y/N couldn't help but think- her uniform consisted of only a white t-shirt with the school logo along with any pair of bottoms she chose for the day.

After picking up her cute small rain boots and help her get dressed up, Y/N did a cute hairstyle on her with the small butterfly hair clips she chose, and went back to Charlie's room to do her hair, Anya coming along.

They arrived at their school; a big, period-like brick building with hundreds of students roaming around and a beautiful fountain at the front – which actually made Y/N’s childhood look like a big joke; the school she had attended was located in the middle of the mountains in a remote field.

"I'll be here at two thirty. Good luck, girls, I'll see you later." Ivy walked away sending a 'mhm' her way to let her know she heard her, and Charlie offered a small smile along with a wave and walked away like her sister. Y/N took Anya off her car seat and helped her get out of the car, her tiny backpack sitting on Y/N’s right shoulder as she grabbed the hand Anya offered her.

"Mommy said I have the penguins' classroom!" She said with excitement as they walked through the doors at the right wing of the building.

"That's so cool! I love penguins, let's search for the door which has penguins on it, shall we?" Y/N suggested even though she could clearly see their door at the end of the hallway.

"Yes! This one has elephants," she pointed at the door they were passing, "look, butterflies!"

"Like your hairclips!" Y/N exclaimed, and she giggled nodding her head. "Ah! Look what we found..." Y/N pointed at the next door.

"Penguins!" She skipped towards the door, dragging Y/N along. They entered the big and colorful classroom where they found some kids crying in their parent’s arms, others being as excited as Anya.

"Hi there! Anya, am I correct?" A woman who appeared to be around Y/N’s age came up to them, scrunching down to be on Anya’s eye level. She nodded frantically, excitement dripping from her smile. "My name is Miss Pia, I'm going to be your teacher this year." She introduced herself, Anya gave her an even bigger smile and slyly asked if she could go meet her classmates, to which Miss Pia agreed, asking her to first hang her small backpack in the rack at the back of the room, taking it from my hands and running excitedly to do it.

"You must be Y/N, then?" Miss Pia asked, getting back up to her feet. She was short with blonde curly hair sitting high in a ponytail, rosy cheeks and a cute teacher apron on top of her regular clothes.

"I am." Y/N offered her hand.

"The administration office said we would be having an Au Pair this year, they always give us a heads up with situations like these." She explained, and Y/N nodded as she continued, "we have the parents, nannies or in this case, Au Pairs," they both laughed," stay for the introduction, you can leave afterwards."

"Perfect, I'll sit at the back with the rest of the parents." Y/N ended up staying for about half an hour, smiling at Anya every time she turned to search for her when something exciting seemed to be happening. She won't be needing any adaptation, as Miss Pia said, and she was dismissed right before they had their first trip to the playground outside, taking advantage of the fact that it hadn't started raining yet.

Right when Y/N was walking out of the building, she spotted Harry at the main entrance, reading something on his phone. He was wearing a navy blue suit with a white shirt underneath, and he looked even more handsome in the daylight. She made her way towards him, walking up the marble stairs (marble stairs! In a school?), and when he noticed her, he put his phone away and slowly (and trying to be as discrete as possible – which he failed to, again) looked up and down her body. Something about him giving her his full attention made her insides burn, and she couldn’t help but bit her bottom lip to suppress a smile.

"Hi." She stopped in front of him, taking a moment to look at his eyes; they definitely looked a lot lighter now that there was natural light surrounding them.

"Hi." He repeated, "Dropped the girl's off?" He motioned towards the building with his head.

"Yes, just left Anya’s classroom." She shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

"Miss Pia?" He asked, squinting his eyes.

"Yes. She's nice, looks like she knows what she's doing." Y/N shrugged. She didn't exactly know her enough to have a conversation about her – and she most definitely couldn’t be one to talk, since she herself didn’t know what she was doing half of the time. “How’s the first day back been so far?” He got cut off from his next comment by his phone, and the small crease between his eyebrows grew deeper, which didn’t go unnoticed by Y/N. "I'll leave you to it." She announced, but his eyes found hers again, and it was almost like he was asking for her to not leave him to it, but Y/N didn’t trust her instincts, not with him – not when he made her so nervous her brain couldn’t process things around him, and she was scared of misreading his expressions; he was hard to read. Not like she was expert at reading people but he was frustratingly confusing.

They didn't see each other again until a week later on a Tuesday evening – the same day Charlie, Anya and her decided to go for a walk and treat themselves with ice cream from a cute shop across from (what had come to be) her favorite park, Harry and Y/N found each other's eyes across his front garden, just like that night, but this time it was easy for her to recognize him as she could see his face clear and glowing from the sunset shine. His eyes were glued to her until the fence that divided their houses blocked his view, and again, Y/N wondered what could be going through his head.

It wasn’t until after dinner, past her work hours, she decided to leave the house through the door on her room with the sparking curiosity to test if she would run into Harry. Stopping on the sidewalk in front of his house, she noticed he was not sitting outside, and even though that's exactly what she had expected -he was not going to sit there for hours and hours, right?- There still was a small feeling of disappointment that rushed through her, and when she snapped back into reality, it was too late to stop herself as she knocked on his front door.

And Y/N didn’t know where to hide – not like hiding would be less embarrassing but God she did hate herself that moment. The embarrassment running through her veins was painful and made her lightheaded – she knew she had trouble sometimes with not thinking things through, but this was beyond her. He barely knew her. And suddenly his door was wide open.

"Y/N?" Of course she was not lucky enough for him to be asleep and not hearing her knock – life would’ve been too in her favor for that to happen. Of course he was very awake with a half drank cup of tea in his hand and the softest looking pair of grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips. "Are you ok? You look really pale." His voice was calm, probably the softest it'd ever been in her presence. At least he doesn't sound mad, Y/N thought.

Harry wanted to be confused, but he was more curious than anything else. For some reason, he felt very intrigued by Y/N – how she seemed confident but insanely insecure at the same time; it reminded him of himself, if he had to be honest. He just learned how to hide the latter.

"Uh, yeah- um, I was-" she nervously turned around halfway to look behind her and back at him again. He raised his eyebrows in curiosity and Y/N really tried her hardest not to step over her words. "I was about to go for a walk, uh, I was wondering if you'd like to join me?" Stupid. So, so stupid, Y/N thought.

"No, I'm good." He replied, finding oh-so-amusing the way her eyes gave her embarrassment away – he was having fun, watching her like a lost puppy trying to think through her next words.

Her mind was, of course, over speeding. She now felt even more embarrassed. Of course he doesn't want to go for a walk, Y/N conscience spoke to her, it's a Tuesday night and he's probably tired and I'm his friends' Au Pair – he probably thinks I'm this young and annoying girl who has a stupid crush and- "would you like to join me?" He interrupted her self-beating up raising his cup and she noticed the half smile adorning his face, almost like he could tell the wheels in her brain were fast-moving.

"Wouldn't want to interrupt-"

"You're not. I wouldn't have invited you in if you were. C'mon in, now. It's kinda cold out here." He disappeared inside of his house, leaving her on his porch with an open mouth and a blank brain. After closing the door behind her and taking her black vans off, she turned on her left as she guessed that was the way Harry went – and she knew she’d guessed correctly when she stepped into a big open-plan concept living room with a giant kitchen on the far back, Harry standing with his back towards her preparing her tea, "sugar?"

"No, thank you." She sat in one of the stools at the kitchen island as she took the scene in front of her. Her very cute (and much older), very hot neighbor Harry, in sweatpants and a very thin white shirt, a small patch of skin showing on his hip, making her tea. His shoulders were broad and she could see his back muscles moving as he poured steaming hot water into the cup, the little curls on his neck so inviting, if only she could run her hand through his soft looking hair just once-

"There you go. Cardamom." He snapped her out of her (probably inappropriate) thoughts, and she thanked him as she grabbed the cup from where he placed it; he stayed in his position standing in front of her on the other side of the island, with his forearms against the cold marble, sipping on his own mug, thinking about how strange it felt to have someone he wasn’t close with sitting in his kitchen after so long. "Why are you up so late?"

"I couldn't sleep."

"I figured. I couldn't either, looks like we both have a bit of sleeping issues, huh?" He sounded playful, but tired. Y/N knew exactly how it felt, being so tired but not being able to peacefully go to bed and get some needed rest.

"I remember you mentioning it before, I figured I'd check if you were up. Walking helps me relax, thought maybe you'd enjoy it too." OK, that wasn't entirely true but her reasoning to be there was quite similar – to check if he was up so they could, maybe, share a quiet night like that one a few weeks ago. None of them understood why they found such comfort in each other’s company – none of them felt like they needed to try too hard.

At some point during their conversation they moved to the couch, where they laid with a wide gap between their bodies. "Elton John's was definitely an interesting read. Lots of crazy anecdotes, you should read it."

"Probably not as good as Keith's, but I'll give it a go." He let a dimpled smile creep into his face, turning his head to look at her from across the couch and the annoying turn her stomach made obliged her to return it, just as bright as his. Finding out their music taste was quite similar made Y/N’s insides all warm and fuzzy, he showed her his vinyl collection (which was quite large) and ranted about how the modern industry was missing a rock star with some of that unexplainable essence old rock bands have – to which she respond saying maybe that something that makes them special was the fact that they were old bands... added to the fact that even though she was an old music lover, modern pop was her guilty pleasure.

Their third teacups were long forgotten on the modern coffee table by the time he noticed Y/N’s eyes were slowly beginning to close and he, as last time, said, "it's really late." And Y/N only nodded and tiredly got up from her position, with him following close behind.

"Goodnight, Harry. Thank you for having me even though I came unannounced." She shyly said, her actions still making her embarrassed even though it had already been a couple of hours.

"My pleasure. We should- do this again," He coughed into his hand, and uncomfortably continued, "I enjoy your company." That sentence alone made her heart explode with a thousand emotions, because even though they barely knew each other and it clearly pained him to admit he enjoyed having her around, his presence made her calm but anxious in a peculiar mixture of emotions. All she did in return was gift him a big smile, face hot of embarrassment (a nice kind of embarrassment, that feeling when you just want to smile really big and tightly hug whoever is making you feel that way) and slowly pushed herself up on her tiptoes to give him a sweet kiss on the cheek. "Bye." He said lastly, and closed his front door with red cheeks and dimples on display.

- Joey.

#AP #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #age!gap harry #my writing

153 notes · View notes

0risha · 4 years ago

Text

“BONES.”

✰ PAIRING ⤷ dabi x fem!reader

SUMMARY ⤷ It took him over a decade to muddle his brain with different memories to overshadow his past ones, not wanting for the abstained shadows of remembrance to embrace him.

It’s not that he doesn’t trust you.

Dabi doesn’t trust himself.

He doesn’t trust the color of his mind to stay in the now state it’s in. If Touya Todoroki were to unwrap the gauze that clung to his very being, he’d fall apart. And he couldn’t have that. This unforgiving life of his had finally unfolded its palms and given him a gift and he’d stay sane for as long as he could to enjoy it.

✰ WC ⤷ 6.6k?

✰ TAGS ⤷ major angst, there is fluff though pinky promise, there’s a suggestive line, please don’t cancel me, it was detrimental to the story manga spoilers, a few curse words, character death, very, very soft dabi, shigaraki is an ass

NOTES ⤷ this is, indeed, the longest thing I've written that wasn't for school. and the summary is just a blurb because i had no idea what to write there. lol, I'm sitting at my laptop while crying my eyes out...... but uh.... I hope you like it ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ

You smoke, Dabi takes that into account on the first day he sees you. Dabi hates cigarettes, despises them. He hates that itchy feeling his lungs get whenever he takes a drag, hates the way it makes him feel abyssal, co-dependent. And if there's one thing that Dabi hates, it's relying on something else that wasn't him self.

With that into consideration, he’s not entirely sure why you catch his eye, you’re not typically the type he goes for. He usually chose the dainty ones, the ones that were so eager to experience a jive of thrill, they don’t realize that they’ve encountered a person who played an important role in one of the most powerful villain organizations.

You're in the corner of a dingy bar, the dim lights somehow doing your angelic features justice. The light catches the glint of your name tag and the pastel blue of your scrubs. You look tired. Even from a far distance, he can see the sunken tent of your cheeks. The cigarette stick which hangs from in between your index finger and middle is halfway from becoming a stub. The plastic platter of pretzels that sit across from your chest is untouched as you grumble out replies to the bartender who's trying to make conversation with —a very uninterested— you.

When the clock hits eleven, your bar stool is scraping the ground as you attempt to leave. The relentless bartender grabs your arm with one last plea. His voice raising when you deny the idea that you should give him your number because you're too pretty to be by yourself. With one last pull, you stomp away towards the exit. Dabi doesn't know if it's because he's a villain too, but he follows after you. His senses telling him that there’s no way the bartender who you’d just rejected would let his wounded pride stay unbandaged.

He’s careful not to make any noises with the soles of his boots. The absence of street lights concealing his figure. Unbeknownst to him, his body enforces the skills he uses while stalking his next prey. His languid motions flowing with the same transverse as the cold, biting wind.

And you don’t notice a thing, your hands stuffed into the pockets of your thick silver jacket. But when your walking comes to a stop, Dabi’s heart nearly tumbles out from his chest. Not a second later, you pull out a pack of cigarettes and place one to your lips, lighting it in one go. When you resume walking, Dabi’s body internally holds a jubilee with jeers of relief. He’s not exactly sure why he’s helping you but what type of person would he be if he let a pretty lady like you get hurt?

At the thought, his throat tickles with the hope to let out a laugh.

When Dabi hears the crunch of leaves that bounce off the cracked concrete, for the second time that night he nearly breaks into a fit of laughter. The culprit’s first step is to trap you behind the fenced wall and his burly figure. What an amateur.

A part of Dabi wants to wait and see what you do. Are you a regular civilian? Do you have a strong quirk that would fight him off? His trail of thought evaporates when you hiccup out a laugh, smoke from the corner of your lips flowing into the man’s face. Dabi’s eyebrows quirking up with interest. What’s your next act?

After several hitches of breath, nothing comes and Dabi finally decides to step in as he feels the waves of anger emitting from the balding, middle-aged man who has you cornered.

The confrontation is brief —when the bartender turns to glance at an approaching lean, scarred figure, he scurries off without a word.

“Didn’t have to help me, I had it in the bag.” You squint at your savior as your cigarette bobs with the movement of your full lips. His stature towers over yours but you don’t seem the little bit phased.

“You weren’t scared,” he says and it’s more of a question than a statement. His cool voice sends a frosty layer through each stack of your vertebrae. Though, it slowly ebbs away as you study his features and realize how pretty he is —his eyes a pool of melted lapis. Sharp cheekbones molded to accustom to scars and silver staples that do nothing but add to your thinking connotation of him being ambiguity personified.

“Yeah, even if he did... you know.” You wave your hand. “He would’ve died sooner or later.” Dabi’s eyes narrow in confusion as he catches the way your eyelashes flutter prettily against your skin.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh.. uh- he had heart issues, the kind you can’t recover from.” You remove the lit stick from your lips and give him a full-toothed smile. “Thank you, Mr. Stranger.” And with that, you turn away and resume your lethargic walk down an empty alleyway.

Must be your quirk. Dabi thinks as he watches your figure disappear into the grasping shadows of the night. When he returns to the battered LOV hideout, he goes out of his way to avoid any interaction with the League. Refusing to taint his memory of your pretty smile and pretty face.

The next time Dabi sees you, you’re in the same place. This time you’re not wearing scrubs, opting for a more casual look with a baby blue top that contrasts nicely with your skin and jeans that accentuate your figure. You don't have a pack of cigarettes either.

Unlike before, you notice his stare and you bathe in it. The bartender from the other day all but glances at you. Amusingly, you turn to glance at the brooding figure in the corner of the bar with a knowing look.

After two beers and spinning courage, you walk towards Dabi with sway in your step. His eyes follow your movement until you decide to situate yourself next to him in the booth. His low lids focus on you as you fidget with your manicured fingers. Cute. He thinks. You’re too cute for your own good.

“What’s your name?” You break the silence. Teeth gnawing into the plush dent of your bottom lip.

Dabi takes his time to mull over his answer, he doesn’t notice the way his body temperature flares nor the tiny blue flames that threaten to dance on his scabbed knuckles. A grasp —an unfamiliar cloak, wraps its fabric around his shoulders. Prickles of his being push with urgency to ease it away but it’s all in vain.

“Touya.”

Touya, from the corner of his eye, watches your eyes light up with interest. Bright and wide with swirling specks of gaiety— joy. Which Dabi guesses are because of him. He turns his attention away from you, not wanting to get warped into your pretty eyes that sparkle just from hearing his name.

“S’ a pretty name,” you whisper. Sporting a subtle grin, one that blows wide when you see all four chambers of his heart pumping wildly with blood.

“Can you walk me home, Touya?”

It goes on like this, again and again —conversations with Touya at the back of the bar, sitting next to him in the grimy booth. His replies are quip ones but you know he’s listening to your idle chatter because you feel the way his eyes bore into your skull.

The night always comes to a close with both of you walking shoulder to shoulder, the plans of your upcoming day echoing off the bounds of the night sky. You live in an apartment building, a shitty one. He remembers you complaining about the squeaky floorboards, your loud neighbors, and the pervy, greasy-haired landlord that barges through your door at the most unreasonable times of the day. Touya raises his eyebrow at that.

“I’ll take care of him for you.” The words fly past his lips before he can stop them.

Your response is a peal of robust laughter that comes to a halt when you pull out a cigarette. “I’ll be sure to come to you,” you say. Today marked the thirtieth time you both engaged in subtle conversation. He takes note in the fact that you only smoke when you wear scrubs —the rope of curiosity gets the best of him.

“I have to keep up with the appearance of my two personalities, duh.” Touya has no clue what you mean but your clipped tone tells him that he shouldn't pry.

Meanwhile, your eyes flit to his sapphire ones than to his lips.

“Touya?”

“Mhm?”

“Can I kiss you?” You watch the way his eyes widen with a low giggle.

But before he can answer, your lips are already on his. He’s quick to take action as he cups the underside of your jaw, your breath minty even though you just had a smoke. His head’s a mess, there’s a jumble of terms that fail to come together and form coherent ones. The only thing his brain can commit is the pillowy softness of your lips. Sadly, he can’t enjoy the whole experience. His bottom lip erased with the tissue needed to feel, only leaving a purpled patch in its wake.

For a second, his chest tides over with a tinge of shame but it’s quickly washed away as you pull him even closer. Your small, gentle fingers carding through his soft, inky tresses.

The kiss ends when you pull away with a breathless sigh. You stay close to him, noses nearly touching as once shared breaths mingle. His hands are on your hips now, slowly kneading the soft flesh. A couple of seconds dart by as your dark eyes stare into his bright ones. The low-lighted area giving them a fascinating glow.

You want to tell him how pretty he looks at this moment. His flustered expression causing your gut to simmer with heat.

You need to tell him how nicely entrapped his presence always makes you feel but something in you decides against it, choosing to save it for another time. So you search for an alternative, breath growing unsteady as you stumble across one.

“Can you....walk me home, Touya?” This time it's different from the first night you asked him.

This time your voice trails off with a much different undertone.

››››››››››››››››››››› ~★~ ›››››››››››››››››››››

Touya wakes up before you do. Peeks of the sun squeeze through your bedroom blinds, casting a shining glow on your skin. As he studies your peaceful features, he encounters a divulgence. One that causes his skin to crawl with parasites that immediately beg him to keep up with this facade. To derive a little longer and enjoy this bliss at his own expense. However, Touya decides against it. It’s quite obvious that he’s not the safest person to be around, his appearance giving that thought away.

It might be better if he tells you first, he thinks.

It might be better if he lets a precious thing like you go before he builds a stockpile of lies that’ll eventually come crashing down when the realization finally hits.

“I’m a villain, you know,” he murmurs as he watches your eyelids flutter open. He grimaces as he tries to think of what your reaction may be. The first words you woke up to would have to be that you’d let a criminal into your home —into your bed.

He sits up to place his back on your cool headboard. The bell of anxiousness that sits at the pit of his stomach rings after a few beats of silence. You turn to stare at his upright figure with two arms tucked underneath your satin pillow. “I know, m’ not stupid, Touya.” You grumble, turning your head to return to sleep.

“What?” His eyebrows knit has his chest shutters with disbelief.

You ignore his bewilderment. “Since we’re confessing our deepest, darkest secrets can I tell you what could’ve been my villain origin story?” Touya stares at your face before bursting into laughter, one that nearly causes the staples around his jaw to unhinge. Though, this laughter is one of relief.

A part of him doesn’t believe it.

He doesn’t think he’s ever done a deed so right, so pure, that had earned him someone like you. The only thing his reeling mind can suffice is that he had killed a scum in some random, dirty alley that ended up being the lowest of the low. At the random thought, he laughs some more.

“What?” You can’t help but giggle, his laughter —which was a rare entity— made you giddy with joy. “I’m serious!” You pout, turning away from him to feign anger, your ears stay perked up as his smooth, rich laughter fills your bedroom with warmth.

“Okay, fine I won’t tell you.” His laughter trails off as he moves from the headboard to lie directly across from you.

“Alright, tell me.” His abnormal body heat causes you to shuffle closer until you rest your head on his chest.

When your story is done, he can’t help but stare at the ceiling in cerebrate silence.

At the age of fifteen, a program introduced by the hero association had recruited kids with abilities related to the medical field. Yours being an x-ray like quirk that allowed you to detect diseases, broken bones, and infections. Ones even normal x-ray’s couldn’t see. Forced to drop out of high school to take nursing classes and discard your latest stage of childhood life, you’d already become a registered nurse before the ripe age of nineteen. You worked in a special division, one where you only dealt with pro-heroes. You tell Touya about your worst encounter, one where you diagnosed a collection of broken ribs and the incapability to do hero work for several weeks and got shoved so hard that your ankle had twisted. Fortunately, the program had been discarded when you were twenty. With your inability to do other things that weren’t related to nursing you decided to stay one.

“Where were your parents?” It takes you a second to answer, chest deflating in the worst kind of way as you remember your father and mother’s shame-ridden faces staring back at your own —your's ridden with disbelief.

“They got money, so it didn’t really matter what happened to me.” You whisper, using the soft pad of your index finger to trace his scarred skin.

“Wanted to be a writer, Touya.” You try your best to hold in your cries but to no avail. “Wanted to write a best-seller,” You laugh, but it’s overshadowed by the watery sob that follows.

And with that, he finally understands. You’re two personas, a writer and a nurse. His chest tides up with pride once he realizes that he’s probably the first person to see and understand what they both mean to you.

“You can still be one,” he says. But it’s a promise of his own in disguise. I’ll change the world for you, make it so you can do anything you want to. It echoes from his every syllable and trails off with a familiar lilt.

And you see it too —hope-filled eyes flit to glittering ones. His, a bright pair of blue gems that shine with raw, unfiltered passion- yet to be completely polished. Against your will, every tendril of your being untwines and wraps itself around his words- you believe him. Unconsciously, your lips blow into a wide smile. “I’ll hold you to it, Touya.”

The stagnant air diffuses once you ask him a question, “when’s your birthday?”

Internally, you kick yourself in the shin as Touya shoots you a whimsical look. You’re not sure why this is the first personal question you decide to ask him.

But to you, Touya’s painted in grey, moral wise. You’ve only known him for less than a month, his background revealed the same night you met him. When you were with Touya, he didn’t seem like a villain. Villains were supposed to be vile, viscous people that didn’t dissolve properly into the troughs of today’s society.

His touch was gentle, handling you with nothing other than care. But you’re sure he’s used those same nimble fingers to inflict pain on whomsoever he chose. To you, Touya’s a jigsaw. You’re prepared —at least you think you are— to solve it. Prepared to start with the small pieces. And when those gradually come together, you’d use them as a guide. Treading carefully to work from known to unknown.

However, Touya prays to the gods that you don’t use your quirk to see the way his heart pumps wildly and the way his breath hitches. It took him over a decade to muddle his brain with different memories to overshadow his past ones not wanting for the abstained shadows of remembrance to embrace him. It’s not that he doesn’t trust you.

Dabi doesn’t trust himself.

“December 15th.” Your eyes widen when you realize the day was when you both had met. “I was your birthday gift then, huh.” You giggle, pressing closer to his body to feel the erratic thump of his heart.

“Guess so.” A good lie is always better than the truth.

That’s what he tells himself when Tomura asks where he’s been for the past couple of months. Vehement, crimson eyes digging into Dabi’s skull. He scoffs in annoyance, opting to tell the blue-haired man that he’d been out of town to scout for new members. Rummaging through underground areas where the average of villains was the thickest.

And yes, they’re all lies. He’s happy that Tomura is as dumb as he looks. Though it may be because Dabi has mastered the art of weaving intricate webs of lies- he’s grateful, nonetheless.

When Dabi turns away from him, Tomura’s eyes narrow.

Shigaraki Tomura isn’t as dumb as he looks. But Dabi didn’t know that -at least, not yet.

Here in the LOV hideout, where Dabi’s just a ruthless flame kindler, he finds no self-content, only impatience. Sometimes, taking part in Toga’s antics as a source of entertainment, her bloodlust too damn thick to ignore.

Impatience, a contagious drug that filters through Dabi’s veins and causes his blood to sear whenever he thinks about the overturn he wants hero society to so badly face. It’s the only way this ache of his can be soothed.

At first, it was just for him to bask in -for him to enjoy. For him to see a part of his past, burn. To see a rage of flames that -in time, turned to a cinder, his memories with it.

But now, he wants you to see it too. He wants to keep you tucked by his side as everything unfolds. Knowing this, he waits. Dabi’s not naive, this dream of his isn’t a one-man act.

Though, the biggest step closer to glory comes earlier than expected…

He’s a hero, the number two pro hero in all of Japan. His speed and the aid of his wings being his strongest suit. The information he provides is what still causes the Leauge to thrive. And the reason that Shigaraki now knows of the Meta Liberation Army. A powerful villain organization that rivaled Tomura’s very own. Led by a man named Destro, a name that every villain’s supposed to know. Kuriogi tells him this in his usual monotone voice, he’s the founder and now his son currently leads the army. The thing is, Dabi does know but for other reasons. His father was a hero after all.

Shigaraki orders Dabi to keep watch over Hawks. Sure, Dabi has his suspicions too, but he couldn’t differentiate if it’s the hostility he feels after he learns Hawks’ friendly relationship with Endeavor or for the fact that several missions had been deemed as errors because of the red-winged man’s mistakes.

Though, his stress dissipates when he comes home to you. It didn’t take a lot of time for Touya to get accustomed to your apartment. He’s used to living in shitty places, the League had been -and still is- living in one for months.

Fortunately, your landlord never comes around. You think it’s because of Touya’s intimidating presence but it stretches farther than that. Farther into the territory of what makes Touya into the fearful villain he is. But, you didn’t have to know that. Touya deliberates. You were stressed enough as it is.

Sometimes you’re not even home, late shift reminders overtaking your flimsy calendar. On those days, when you return, you’re so tired that Touya has to undress and bathe you himself. It’s never a toll, he enjoys listening to your barely decipherable recaps of your day, ones that sometimes turn into angry speeches of frustration that he’s sure to soothe with soft kisses to your pursed lips.

“Touya,” you whisper. Head in the crook of his neck while he lathers your body with body wash. Your head’s cloudy, exhaustion taking its home in your body.

“Mhmm.”

“Love you, like.. a lot.” The words bleed together with little to no pauses. It’s so slurred that Touya has to mull over it.

When he finally separates them in his head, he pauses. Eyes going wide as the grip on the pink loofah loosens.

Those words had never been emitted between you two. They were the three forbidden syllables that hung still, frozen in mid-air. It should’ve been easy to say. So easy to confess if push ever came to shove and the tides of adoration ever became too much to bear.

Despite that - in Touya’s head, his sole belief was that he was a package of damaged goods. What solace could you find if he ever told you that he loved you? Would it bring you happiness- fear?

Months had passed between the two of you, the light of winter and spring passing with intertwined hands. But what if- what if- you didn’t love Touya as much as he thought? What if you stayed by his side because you took pity on him? Took pity on a man who had no efficiency, no worth, no value, and used it to your heart’s content to mend yourself together.

Unbeknownst to him, those thoughts had run aimlessly across your mind as well. Both of you were damaged goods. Both of you unfamiliar with the thrum of the common melody.

When you feel his movements halt, a part of you feels victorious.

Oh, how lucky you were for being high on delirium. This was a chance pulled out of luck’s pocket.

“Don’t gotta say it, I see it.” He lowers his gaze to see you staring intensely at his chest. Which no doubt encases an organ that beats wildly because of your words. For the first time in a long time, he grows embarrassed. A streak of red blossoms from under his scarred cheeks as he chooses to hide his head in your neck, inhaling the strong citrusy scent of your body wash.

Hesitantly, you brush your fingers across the expanse of his back. Careful to avoid rough skin. Hoping that with your touch, you can convey a message of understanding.

I love you Touya and I know you love me.

››››››››››››››››››››› ~★~ ›››››››››››››››››››››

On a week that you’re finally off from work, you choose to spend it with Touya. He‘s barely out anyways. When you ask him why he’s never out doing villainy things. He answers with, “to spend time with you, princess.” A chortle at the end of his sentence when he sees you duck your head in embarrassment.

“Wanna go dress shopping with me tomorrow?” You ask, taking a handful of potato chips in your palm, focus still on your tv show -which Touya believes is the most boring thing he’s ever come across.

He turns to glance at you, eyebrows knitted as he contemplates.

He knows he shouldn’t, situations where his identity might be discovered, wouldn’t be good for the both of you.

And if Tomura were to find out…. the possibilities were too endless and Touya would keel over before he put your life in jeopardy.

But he still says yes- he’s never actually seen you wear a dress, he tells you. A subtle smile adorning his lips when he sees yours. He doesn’t ask why you want to buy a dress all of a sudden but he doesn’t mind.

The next day, you dress him up in a big burly coat that you had found at a thrift store years ago. Touya scrunches up his nose in disdain as you pull it up to cover his purple-hued scars, the fabric smelling oddly like sulfur. If it weren’t for the way you seemed so focused on hiding his identity he would’ve discarded the clothing a long time ago. He thinks the last straw is when you plop a pair of dark sunglasses on his nose.

“Don’t look at me like that!” you fuss. “I tried my best.”

“Was your best option really a combination of coat and sunglasses?” He exasperates, voice coming out muffled.

“What... I can’t hear you?” You cup the back of your ear, feigning curiosity.

He rolls his eyes at your comment. “Whatever, let’s go.”

You grab your silver coat from your rack and walk outside, both of you making it to your beat-down Honda. As Touya shuffles in the passenger seat you can’t help but giggle at his uncomfortable posture, they turn louder when he turns to glare at you but fails miserably, his intimidating face shrouded by the coat and glasses.

When you enter the boutique a small ding of a bell hits your ear. You smile in victory once you realize the vacancy. A short lady with gray hair waddles towards you and Touya. “Well, hello there!” She exclaims her soft voice matching with the appearance of her shop. Sweet and adorable. “What are you two looking for today.” She walks closer to you two, her motherly aura shrouding you in contentment.

“Well… I’m not entirely too sure,” you say, clasping your hands behind your back. “But something blue and flowy.” You hum.

“Blue and flowy, you say?” She turns. “Follow me.”

You turn to glance at Touya, whose attention is already on you. You grab his hand and follow behind. She leads you to a wide room, the smell of laundry detergent filtering through the air. Your eyes widen once you see the rows of dresses adorned in plastic.

“These are all my babies.” She waves and turns to you with an expectant look, eyes crinkling as she gives you a warm smile.

“They’re real pretty, aren't they?” You nod. “Well, the dressing rooms are back there.” She points to the far right. “If you need anything just come to me, I’ll be at the front desk.”

You walk towards the small corridor of dressing rooms and pick the first one you see. Pushing Touya into the stall, you place your hands on your hip after clicking the door shut. He takes his sunglasses off and shoots you a quizzical look.

“Show me your flames,” you breathe out, palms growing clammy as nervousness starts to set in.

You wring your hands as you watch his adam's apple bob, his stare turning hard. “No.”

You cross your arms and plead. “Please Touya, I wanna find a dress that matches your flames. They’re probably really pretty… don’t know why you won’t show me.” Your voice trails off.

He had an idea that this would happen sooner or later. There were times where you did see his flames but those were accidents. He always made sure to quickly extinguish them when he caught your peering eyes.

His chest floods with guilt once he sees your disappointed expression. He didn’t think his flames were pretty. He’d melted too many flays of flesh to count. The last thing he wanted to do was show you the bright-tinged spirit responsible for his grave sins.

But one dilemma Touya has is that he can’t ever seem to jump over the weak spot he has for you. So, he gives a meek - fine.

He watches your features light up with glee, only hoping that you wouldn’t regret asking him for this. “Can I take the coat off, first?” You hum, scrambling to do it for him. Revealing his plain white tee and his dark black jeans.

“Step back for me,” he whispers, gnawing at the bottom of his scarred lip. He opens the palm of his hand- to first, show a tiny blue flame that sways languidly. Progressively, he increases the flame until it engulfs his hand and upper wrist. When he looks up from his palm to your face, he’s surprised to see that your eyes aren't menacingly calculating or searching for release from fear. Instead, you look on in astonishment.

He sees the reflection of his flames in your eyes and from that circled mirror, a tiny nibble of his conscience starts to ebb with pride of his quirk.

After gushing about how pretty his flames look, you commit the color to memory. Dashing out of the stall to search for a dress, humming a tune when you envision his reaction to seeing you in such a nice, quaint dress on such a special day.

He perks up once you unlock the door, expecting you to change and show him what you’ve found. But instead, he’s met with your smiling face and what seems to be a dress -shrouded in a velvet coverup. “Don’t look so disappointed.” You wag your finger in front of his face. “You’ll see it soon.”

When December rolls by with chilly air as company, you start to see Touya less and less. He never does tell you what exactly it is he does while out doing villain work. Though, he did tell you that his absences would occur more and more since he and his league were working hard to take down a villain organization.

Your eyebrows had furrowed at that. “I thought villains were supposed to band together,” you asked, head resting on his thigh as you stared up at his face. “Not ones with different philosophies,” he had said, hand suspiciously inching closer and closer to your chest. You hummed, still confused.

It might sound naive, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. Hero society didn’t interest you. You couldn’t say villains did either but Touya was one. One of the bigshots.

Once, when you’d seen him on the little tv in the corner of your break room, it took a lot in you to not crack a smile. Though the idea of bringing chaos into the world with wide arms made your nerves rack with trepidation, you had Touya, and that seemed like enough.

Fortunately, Touya not being home was a benefit to your plan. You’d already scheduled your days off for work and booked the reservations for the fancy restaurant that was at least an hour’s drive from your apartment building. It was hard work, but for Touya’s birthday, it was all worth it.

››››››››››››››››››››› ~★~ ›››››››››››››››››››››

Shigaraki Tomura does not like to be lied to.

If he had written commandments for the people he came across, that would be his first line, golden engraved. It’s an unexplainable feeling he gets. If he could, he’d describe it as an itchy, hot coil that warps across his skin. It’s not painful, it’s simply annoying. And he feels it nearly every day. The scars that mar his neck being a result of it.

Why does the world have to be riddled with so many liars?

Dabi’s a liar, he knows that much. Hawks, that red-winged hero may be one too, but he’d deal with that when things finally came into play.

Now, he focuses on the man Dabi truly is. Villains lie. Shigaraki knows this, he’s a villain too. But- he tells the truth when it comes to his goals.

He tells the truth with what he wants.

What he wants LOV to bring.

What he wants society to flood with.

So why couldn’t Touya Todoroki do the same?

Shigaraki Tomura’s smart and Dabi is a fool to not see this. Who came up with the plans? The missions? The very concept of LOV? Sure, AFO had shaped him into who he was today but he was the same man locked in Tartarus, not Tomura.

When Tomura finds the roots of Dabi’s lies through Kurogiri’s peering eyes. It takes an hour of pleading for the ghastly man to convince Tomura not to find Dabi and disintegrate him into a fine pile of dust.

“Why should I!” Tomura shouts, his ruby eyes glaring into Kurogiri’s yellow ones. “He lied to me.” Shigaraki spits out the word so hastily and it’s as if saying the word itself was a sin of its own. Kurogiri nods, silently transmitting his words of understanding, not wanting to raise his temper even higher.

“But Dabi’s an important member of the League, Tomura.” Kurogiri coaxes. “In a week or so, we’ll be off to fight with M.L.A. If anything give him a warning, a threat. Just don’t kill the boy.” Shigaraki takes a second to glare at Kurogiri but eventually, his shoulders sag with defeat.

Even though Dabi had committed the gravest sin, he’d show mercy.

Begrudgingly, he grabs the cup of orange juice from Kurogiri’s hand, his thoughts flying at a fast pace, anger refusing to subside. All until his thinking cogs get stuck on one idea, one thought.

The thought crawls out from his mind and paints his expression with one of sickening glee. His smile so wide, that rivulets of blood dribble down from his cracked lips. His tongue darts out to lap up the tangy liquid as he gets high on this idea, on this revelation.

Shigaraki Tomura needs Dabi but Shigaraki Tomura does not need you.

Tomura knows everything about you, your background, your parents, the countless homes you had to reside in, where you live as of now- where you and Dabi live as of now. Where you work and what exactly you’re planning to do on the 15th day of December. It’s terrifyingly easy to uncover reservation logs.

You’re a pretty woman, Tomura could admit that. But you were a stain in his perfect, webbed canvas of the future. Those countless months where he had expected Dabi to be his righteous subordinate and listen to his demands were spent with you. Cooped up at your run-down apartment doing god knows what.

Tomura’s teeth grit as he digs into the flesh of his neck, specks of blood underneath his fingernails while he fervently scratches the already scabbed skin. Kurogiri glances over at him, seemingly reading his mind.

“I’m leaving.” Shigaraki swipes up from his dusty seat. Oh, how he missed the elegance of his LOV’s old hideout.

“Don’t forget AFO’s orders concerning Gigantomachia.”

Tomura blinks once, twice. “That thing has way too much HP.” He breathes out.

“For now, I need to do something else.” He whispers, bringing his embalmed hand to rest on his face.

››››››››››››››››››››› ~★~ ›››››››››››››››››››››

Whenever Touya thought of coincidences he thought of the word luck. It was a coincidence that Touya had been at the same bar as you, a coincidence that because of your lack of care for hero society that you’d glossed over the fact that he was a villain. But as Touya stood in your empty apartment, bloody and bruised from his prior fight, his connotation of coincidences slowly turned sour. A bitter taste sat on his tastebuds as he read over your note.

Happy Birthday Touya, my love.

meet me at the Burqoues Restaurant!

Take an uber…. I don’t have any money for one

(using it on the restaurant money)

so I’ll just take my car.

p.s. you’ll get to see my dress.

It was a coincidence that the day he told you was his birthday was the very day the League of Villians had merged with the Meta Liberation Army. Touya didn’t know what this grappling hook of fear was, but as he saw that your Honda was still idly parked in that weird angle you always had a habit of doing -it came to take its hold around his neck.

Maybe you’d actually found a couple of bucks and took an uber instead. Right?

You were probably in the restaurant, ordering that expensive champagne you really wanted to try. Ready to show that pretty, wide smile you always gave Touya when you saw him.

Right?

Touya couldn’t think- couldn’t breathe as he sped down the street. His grip on the wheel was so tight that his staples were close to popping. The loud ringing in his ears drowned out the persistent honking of cars that he nearly collided with.

What should’ve taken an hour took a measly twenty minutes. Without a second thought, Touya was already out of the car.

Upon entering, he received perturbed glances. He didn’t blame them, his clothes were bloodied, several staples unhinged from the skin.

“S-sir?” a tiny voice squeaked. He glanced at the receptionist desk, the bright chandeliers illuminating her meek stare that looked borderline terrified. He probably looked like a villain.

“D-do you have a reservation.”

“Yes.” He answered gruffly, head craning to see if he could catch sight of you.

“Your name please.”

“Touya.” He gritted, eyes focusing back on the receptionist who didn’t seem to believe him. She ducked her head to check, eyes scanning frantically.

“Oh, yes!” She smiled, it was too wide to be real but, frankly, Touya didn’t care. All he needed to know was that you were here.

“Table 15.” She pointed. “You won’t miss it.”

Touya didn’t bother to reply, legs already scrambling towards what he hoped would be you. Ignoring the stares that followed behind him.

Table 12

Table 13

Table 14

Table 15-

Touya's heart nearly stops, vision tinging with black as his knees nearly crumble beneath him.

You weren’t there.

››››››››››››››››››››› ~★~ ›››››››››››››››››››››

When Touya returned to the now, Paranormal Liberation Army hideout, Shigaraki had given him a smile so sweet that it had caused Touya's blood to run cold.

However, Touya did not pry, choosing to ignore the guilty glances the rest of the league sent his way. And he hated himself for it, hated the coward he'd grown to be in such a short period of time.

Later on that night, he returned to your desolate apartment, choosing to take a cigarette from your half- empty pack.

Yes, Touya despised cigarettes but at that moment they'd never tasted so sweet. His lungs didn't itch, he didn't feel abyssal. He just felt— soothed. As he took several drags, Touya silently pleaded for the nicotine to somehow make every fiber of his being believe that you had decided to finally leave.

That you had finally realized that a villain like him was no good and would only put your life at risk.

However, his façade had cracked when he'd found multiple files on your desolate laptop, drafts of your story in the making. The first page dedicated to your love for giving you the motivation to publish your first ever book.

And at that moment, for the first time in his godforsaken life, Touya wished he could cry. To show you, somehow that he was grateful for everything you had given him. That he was thankful and sorry for letting his mirror that reflected thousands of moments with you -your arms cradling him, him cradling you- shatter into fractured pieces.

As Touya Todoroki sat on a velvet sofa, arms wide and camera ready, a piece of his brain fabricated the image of you next to him --adorned in a sapphire blue dress, showing him that pretty, pretty smile that he’d grown to love, he told you —and told the world the story he never had the chance to.

To simply, atone.

#dabi x reader #dabi angst #dabi fluff #mha x reader #mha fluff #mha angst

140 notes · View notes

kalorphic · 3 years ago

Note

As a ace person its kind of weird seeing every ace character in ifs sex repulsed. Just checking to make sure you understand it means "i get excited thinking about sexual situations not people alone" and not "i would never have sex because its disgusting". Most ace people are not sex repulsed and being sex repulsed dont necessarily mean you're ace.

Idk, ignore it if you want, but i hate this stigma around ace people that we dont have sex drive and we hate sex. Like, asexuality is the most misunderstood sexuality out there. Like, we are still ace even if we love sex.

As nb I have a problem with nonbinarity in ifs as well cause authors treat it like a third gender (sometimes even as third sex). But that's a totally different discussion to have.

Anyway i look forward to the demo and i hope my words seem genuine to you ❤ i'm just kind of tired people dont understand queer identities but are willing to write about them anyway. Idk, feels a bit like if authors just copy what other authors write and dont think about it twice.

Anon I’m fully aware that not all asexuals are sex-repulsed and that some can even enjoy it. I personally identify as demisexual, which is on the ace spectrum, but means that I can experience sexual attraction and like sex with someone who I have an strong, emotional bond with. It’s also what I’ve written as K’s sexuality. So yes, thank you, I understand.

Luisa as a character is not sex-repulsed, she’s had it, wasn’t that fussed by it, and isn’t interested in doing it again. Which from the research I did, and from talking with a friend of mine about their own experiences, seemed like a fairly common thing, and spoke to me most in regards to her. I’m sorry if you feel that Luisa should have a sex drive and love sex, but it’s not going to happen.

As for treating nb as a third gender, Cody identifies as both masc and fem, with a preference for masc. They’re not trans or intersex, they don’t feel like they were born in the wrong body, they just don’t feel as though they fit neatly into the binary-genders and therefore choose to identify as nb instead.

I get that your words probably were genuine, but it all seemed very passive-aggressive to me. I’m sure there are people who agree with your stance, just as I’m sure there are people who don’t. Everyone has their own unique experiences and identities, I’m not saying, and never have said, that the way I’ve characterised Luisa and Cody is the same for everyone who identifies as asexual or non-binary. I’m sorry you don’t feel as though I’ve done well enough with the rep, but this is what I thought was best for my characters.

I’m sorry if this isn’t very coherent or comes across as me speaking on behalf of asexuals and those who identify as non-binary. If anyone else has any concerns about this, or wants to put their opinion forward, drop me an ask. But please leave the passive-aggressive tone out.

#ask #ro: luisa #ro: cody

53 notes · View notes

suguwu · 3 years ago

Note

Bee! Omg what you said about Higuruma not being secure in other people? Yes that’s it exactly. Has trust issues with everything he’s been through as a lawyer. Knows people are fickle and can change in a moment so he’s halfway always expecting to be disappointed.

But speaking of Higuruma! 💔 I can’t believe we “lost” him in today’s chapter. Was really hoping he would join Yuuji so we could see more of him in the upcoming chapters. 😔

Also, FWB in law school??? 🥵 Yes please! Him being a bit rougher with you on difficult days. Sharing a cigarette with him after sex. Sharing a cigarette with him in da bathtub after sex??? Ahhh I wont him so bad!

Hope you’re doing well and having a great day! 💕

- 👁 💕 🗽

👁 💕 🗽 anon!! hi hello hi! i am trying to decide if i want to make today a better day by starting with brunch skxnsjxj so yknow!! it’s a good day and i hope urs is too ✨

yes!! honestly i wish i had better phrasing for it than insecure in other people bc i don't think that necessarily gets the full scope of it across but brain empty ilsjdflsjdf i feel like when i talk about him i'm not super coherent lmao he just makes my brain go all blair witch project shaky camera

after 167 and his "people are weak and ugly" and "to emphasize with human emotion means to understand their weaknesses" (which. oof.) higuruma is very clearly both incredible at and terrible at compartmentalizing. he pares things down to the base logic. peels it apart to understand. and then when he understands, he hates it. so of course he's already waiting for the other shoe to fall!! he knows people will show their ugliness.

gege continues to giveth and then taketh away 😔✌🏻 i miss this funky lil trainwreck of a lawyer already sigh,,,i do hope he comes back eventually but honestly i don’t see it happening. i think he’s played his part in the story and like he said, i genuinely don’t think he can bear to be near yuuji. gege please just let us keep one (1) tired businessman 😩

re: fwb in law school i just. cannot stop thinking about it. late night studying sessions where you’re both so tired and frustrated by the material that he has to fuck you against the wall to get his focus back 💞 arguing mock cases with each other until you end up with the heavy weight of his cock in your hand 💞 crying about tort law in a 2am breakdown until he makes you cry from pleasure as you ride his face 💞

#🪴.ask #👁 💕 🗽 anon #honestly i could see *you* being the rougher one to start!#bc from what we see in canon higuruma seemed p on top of it in law school #considering his peers call him a genius #so maybe *you’re* more frustrated and get a lil rough bc you want him to be rough #and he obliges ✨#anyway i have. so many thoughts about this bathtub breakdown man kenxjwjdj #not.sfw #i haven’t gone to law school but i am v aware of the perils of tort law

5 notes · View notes

gh0sture · 3 years ago

Text

Under the Sea

Trafalgar Law x gn!reader

Part 2, Meet the gang

You've never been particularly good at meeting new people or making good first impressions for that matter but this, by far, has to be your worst one yet. Your clothes are soaked still, your hair a sticky mess from the saltwater and your mouth is opening and closing lika a fish gasping for air as it flaps around on a bridge after being caught. It's not one of your best looks you'll admit but it is all you can offer at the moment given the circumstances.

You try to form coherent thoughts, you really do, but this is just way too much for you to take in. He reaches a hand out and you flinch before grabbing it to make an awkward shake.

This isn't just insane. This is completely knock-your-socks-off bonkers.

You feel as if you were looking at the golden gates of heaven themselves, not daring to look him in the eyes out of fear that you might go blind from the sheer radiance of his aura meanwhile the man in question just looked at you blankly. Possibly with a hint of disgust. Definitely a bit of disgust.

"The name's Trafalgar Law, captain of Polar tang" his handshake is firm and he looks at you expectantly while retrieving his hand and crossing his arms over his chest.

Neither of you say anything. He clears his throat but you give no reaction. Still staring at him like a five year old looking at a blackboard of university level algebra equations. He grimaces slightly at your behavior.

"Are you ok? I don't remember finding any trauma to your head, you should be fine" he grabs your chin and tilts your head around to inspect it disapprovingly in search of an injury. Although, he is an expert doctor so he would never miss any injuries, his pride wouldn't let him. This does nothing to soothe your symptoms though and doesn't exactly help with calming your heartbeat at all.

"I wouldn't have missed anything what's wrong with you" he mutters to himself when you finally managed to collect yourself enough to remove his hands.

"uhh no! no, i'm ok! thank you for ,uh, saving me by the way" this is the best and worst thing that have ever happened to you.

"it wasn't my choice" he deadpanned and turn back into the room to get a den-den mushi with a familiar penguin hat on it. Its so strange seeing on in real life. Although, you don't know if this is real life (is it just fantasy?). He proceeds to make a phone call (mushi-call? den-den call?) into it while you shift awkwardly on your feet in the hallway. Your feet ache from walking on the metal grid barefoot you had barely noticed until now. After exchanging a few words he walk over to the desk where he'd previously been sitting and open a journal, presumably to continue doing whatever he did before.

"One of my crew members will be here shortly to get you settled for now and give you some necessities. We reach a port in nine days where you can leave." his voice was calm and composed, like pouring molten chocolate into your ears even though the words themselves were less than pleasant. When he spoke you could feel your knees get weak and you feel tempted to ask him a question for the sole purpose of hearing him speak more. God this man was hot. You nodded at his statement at first, not really paying attention to what he had actually said until you realized that nothing he said had been actually registered in your head.

"Wait, what?" you asked. He doesn't look up from his writing but you can hear the mild annoyance in his voice when he answers.

"Looking at you, you are rather ill equipped for staying here until we reach a populated island. Since you don't have any money or anything valuable, my crew will provide for you until we reach the port where you can find another ship to go back wherever you came from...Whatever weird country that's supposed to be...Now go down the hallway, He should be there already to help you so leave me alone" you get the feeling that you'll loose a limb if you stick around longer so you turn to head down the hallway and find "Him" who you hoped would be more polite.

"Not that way" you hear from the study and you turn around to head down the other way, somewhat (very) embarrassed.

You really wished that your first time meeting a celebrity would've gone better, but then again they do say that you should never meet your heroes. Was he always this rude in the series and book? Sure he came across as a bit of a tsundere but he seemed at least approachable in the series. You don't have the charisma or extroverted superpowers that Luffy have so that is probably an important thing to consider. As you head down the hallway you come across a man walking in your direction pretty soon. He seem far more ok with your existence and even appear to lit up a bit when he sees you and give you a friendly wave. This is already going a lot better than last time.

"Yo! You're the one we found floating around yesterday! Nice to meet you, people around here call me Penguin" He gives you a wide yet genuine smile as he grab your hand and shake it enthusiastically before you even have the chance to reach out.

"thought you were a goner when we found you haha!So it's good to see that you're up n' about, c'mon let me show you a round!" he turn around to walk from where he had just come from while you follow behind him silently.

Penguin makes it his personal responsibility to keep a conversation going even if it's pretty one-sided but it's nice. Comforting even, as he went on about how nice the other crewmembers are with the exception of the captain but you shouldn't take what he says too personal as he's a bit misunderstood. He ask you different questions like your name, where you came from, complimenting you on your weird clothes, although it feels like that was mostly him being polite and you didn't have heart or energy to tell him that you're wearing PJ's. He doesn't mind your short answers and seems satisfied with the information he's able to divulge. To be fair you aren't sure how to answer since you don't know how you ended up here but also out of fear of ripping the space-time continuum open by telling him forbidden knowledge about his universe. It would be rather awkward explaining to him that you know a lot about them and what they've done/are about to do. You've technically stalked them through tv and books and if someone told you that they've been watching you, you would freak out. Rightfully so too. They might even think that you're a navy spy sent to gather information action for their arrest and they could kill you. Yeah, this is a mess and a half but you'll burn this bridge when you get to it. You did tell him your name though and he doesn't seem to suspect you working for some nefarious organization so all is well.

He showed you where the important places in the submarine was such as the kitchen, living quarters, rec area and bathrooms. You still have trouble telling up from down will undoubtedly get lost but he assures you that after a while you'll know this maze like the back of your hand. After leaving the living quarters he guides you to the top deck to find someone else he says will help you so that he can get back to work.

The yellow ship had surfaced at a deserted summer island and everyone was outside enjoying the sun after spending several days in the dark of the ocean. You hadn't been down in the submarine for that long , at least not while being conscious, and was already getting a bit unnerved over how cold and cramped it was. As soon as the warm rays of light hit you both the cold and your worries melt away.

"Hey Ikkaku! You have to help the drifter get some clothes!" He yelled at a woman laying in a sun-chair on the deck with her eyes closed. The familiar heart pirates uniform was open to reveal a green tank top and an orange and yellow striped hat was laying beside her.

"Haah!? Why do I have to do it?" She sat up to glare at Penguin and was about to protest when she spotted you behind him. One second you were hiding behind Penguin and the next you're face to face with a very pretty woman with very poofy hair. Her glorious lion name bounces a bit as she hold up both your hands in hers and lean over a bit to stare into your eyes. Everyone is so tall here why is everyone so ridiculously tall. Anime proportions are wild.

"Oh my god!! We were so worried about you, we thought you were dead when we found you!" You felt uncomfortable with her being so close to your face and politely thanked her for saving you while doing your best to avoid eye contact.

"Oi! Where's your manners! They've been through a lot being stranded in the ocean have some respect!" He bops her on the head and she lets you go to tell him off (and/or punch him back) but she remembers the shiny new toy in front of her and settles for staring daggers at him instead.

"Oh shut yer trap" She stares at you intensely as if to make sure you wouldn't run away or vanish into thin air. It's kind of nice being fawned over like this, and clearly the crew enjoy having a visitor.

"It's so nice having a fresh face around, It's been years since Captain let anyone new stay onboard and being stuck with all the same jerks weeks on end gets a bit tiring you know. Now come on and let's go find you some proper clothes!" She grab your hand to drag you along back into the dark,dark depths of the submarine.

Oh joy. more cold, feet grating and claustrophobia.

"You're a bit smaller than everyone so we should probably ask Uni to sow it in for you if it's way too big" She says more to herself rather than you while handing you the classical white uniform with the heart pirates logo on the chest over your heart.

The woman who's name you had learned to be Ikkaku turn around and continued rummaging around the small closet in front of her in search of more clothes for you while you change into the white uniform when she isn't looking. It feels incredible to finally get out of those damp and sticky clothes and into something soft and warm instead. You are also the proud owner of a pair of fuzzy socks and black boots. Your poor abused feet are overjoyed that they no longer have to walk the metal grid of a thousand needles. Life is good.

"Once we get to the port of Pellar island you can probably trade your way to some more clothes but this should be fine for now"

In the little time you had spent with her you had learned quite the few things about the crew on the ship. For starters there were 21 members in the crew (including the captain), You were lucky number 22 according to Ikkaku, even though you aren't a part of the crew it's apparently better to have an even number of people aboard the ship. And hearing the stories of what they've been through it seems like you're their new rabbits foot. Since you're considered baggage or fancy cargo rather than someone useful she gives you some times on how to stay out the way, especially out if the captains way which you feel is probably a wise decision but you offer your help should she need it in the kitchen which she greatly appreciates. You hate feeling useless.

You can't help but wonder where you are in the Once Piece timeline as you rolled up the long sleeves of the uniform on your arms and legs for comfort. Had Luffy and Law already formed the alliance? Were you before the timeskip and the incident at Marine Ford? Maybe you were even ahead of the manga and anime itself in a future arc even. You were snapped out of your thoughts when Ikkaku pushed a bundle of toiletries into your arms involving a towel, a toothbrush, and a bar of soap.

"We haven't figured out where you'll sleep for the moment but it'll work out soon enough. Otherwise you can just sleep in a spare bed in the infirmary but come help me gather food from the island! We don't want to get scurvy while we're submerged!" She drag you away towards the deck after leaving your things in her room for safe keeping for now.

This woman is going to pull your arm off.

She seemed very sweet but all the touching and stereotypical anime arm-pulling is weird since you have literally just met. The way she smiles while asking you about your favourite foods and how she excitedly plan different recipes out loud make you almost forgive her though. Almost.

You move sluggishly towards Ikkaku's room to get the only material items you currently own in this world. Foraging for fruits and herb until nightfall was tiring but at least you didn't have to carry that much stuff, a guy with a black pompadour haircut had come along to help carry the crates of stuff you and Ikkaku gathered. He seemed very nice too, somewhat cocky though. You had asked Ikkaku for information on a certain Straw-hat pirate while making small talk and have come to the conclusion that he probably hasn't even started his adventure towards becoming the Pirate King yet. She didn't know who you were referring to and was even showed some seagull newspaper from their library but no info of the gummy monkey man could be found whatsoever. Since you recall him making news very early on in his "career" it's fair to assume that he hasn't gotten up to his mischief yet.

It feels a bit weird to be honest. To be in the prologue of the story like this and you have no idea what kind of things anyone other than the Strawhats and Luffy had been up to since the story followed them, maybe some vague details about Law's past and fragments from some characters backstories but this is all uncharted territory. Your thoughts are interrupted as you suddenly bump into someone and fell backwards. You reach your arms out like a bad imitation of a seagull in attempt to grab the wall but someone grabs you before you manage to take hold of anything. Your grab their shoulders to steady yourself and let go once you're back on your feet but they don't remove their hands from you. You look up to thank them for catching you when all the colour drains from your face and you realize who you're standing prom-slow-dance proximity to. It is but the one and only person you'd least want to embarrass yourself in front of. Again.

"Do you have a death wish or are you just plain stupid 22-ya" He looked down at you with what you assume to be the ghost of an amused smile or slight disgust. Probably disgust. Again. while you're distracted by his closeness and the humiliating event that is currently taking place. It could be much worse though, right? you can salvage this situation probably.

"Crap, sorry I was just zoned out.." You tried looking anywhere but his oh-so-handsome face to avoid you making this anymore awkward than it already was. You are not immune against handsome people after all. You tried moving away from him slightly but his hands stayed firm on your shoulders and could feel his gaze on you like needle pricks on your skin. you definitely do not dare looking him in the eye.

"You have to look where you're going or you might get seriously hurt next time" He mused. He may be attractive but he's definitely a jerk.

"It's impossible to see down here it's so dark..." you mutter under your breath and quickly move to side to walk past him, he let's go this time rejoice that your attempt to escape the harassing captain is successful, desperate to get away from this weird atmosphere you have created. Unfortunately for you, the universe have other plans as he start walking behind you in the same direction you are and boy, is it awkward.

After a bit of walking you start to get a bit suspicious though. Was he following you around, waiting for you to get lost so that he could make a smartass comment about it? He is the kind of person who would find great amusement in petty bullshit like that for sure but then again you do have a tendency of assuming the worst in every situation. You decide to test this theory out by steeping to the side and make as much room as you could in the hallway and drop down to pretend fixing your shoelace. Instead of trying to walk past you he stops completely right behind you. You move as slow as you can without arising suspicion but he so kindly wait patiently behind you. When you're done "tying your shoelace" and stand up to continue your journey he follows close behind.

Oh hell no.

You can handle rudeness but this is some psychological warfare or foul play that you want no part of. No matter how handsome the guy is you will not stand for this kind of fuckery. You make a sudden halt and quickly turn around to kindly tell him to fuck off.

"Do you need something from me?" you ask with as much calm you can currently muster, irritation building up behind your customer service smile but he doesn't say anything and only look at you with the same dumb face as before. Almost like he's sizing you up before a fight. Possibly with even more disgust this time.

This Motherfucker.

When he still doesn't say anything for several seconds you just decide to be the bigger person and turn around to start walking again. Of course, with him still following you. It's better to just ignore him and he'll go away, you know where you're going. You finally reached Ikkaku's room and gather up the few items that belong to you when he finally speak up.

"You don't have a room assigned yet right?" You gave him a somewhat puzzled look. That's what he needed to know? That is why he followed you?? To ask you this???

"No? why?" You admit cautiously, almost preparing for him to start fighting you or using his power to "confiscate" one of your organs. For a brief second you could've sworn you saw a mischievous glint in his eyes you know that something bad is brewing. The cogs of evil are turning in his mind and you know that whatever comes out of his mouth next will undoubtedly mean bad news for you.

"I have an idea"

8 notes · View notes

xxisxxisxxis · 4 years ago

Text

Gateway Drug | Part Eighty-Five [PT. 1]

Part Eighty-Five [PT. 2]

Words: 5.5k

Warning(s): explicit language, explicit sexual situations, mentions of drug abuse

Tag List: @unknownoblivion @edwardtriggerhandzz @haileynicoleseavey17 @cierrasixx19 @oskea93 @mgkobsessed @sharon6713 @itsametaphorbriansblog @miriampraez @allie-mcginn @xpoisonousrosesx @rebeccaphillips14 @nicholeh7 @lilmou5ie @emariehorror @divaanya @6ixx6ixx @ratedrkohardychick91 @floregrohlssard @oldschoolimagineblog @thanks2pete @abaldboi @liith-ium @jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels @ytwahsog @scarecrowmax @random-internet-user-4471 @solohqrry @sparxx27 @kaitieskidmore1 @cruecifymesixx @meetthesixxter @sublimeprincesswasteland @arianareirg @gingerspicetalks

@fancywasmyname1 @teller258316 @ggorehorror @blowinmeupwithherlove @xrosegoldwolfx @mylifeisjustafeverdream @redlipscrystalskies14 @str4nge-haze @reigns420 @sixxseconds2love @leatherandheels @dogmom2014 @allyouneedislove-mp3 @n0-self-c0ntro1 @viinceneil

LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED

NIKKI

My lawyer looks completely unimpressed with my lack of shoes, shirt, and dignity as he leans back in his chair behind his desk, rubbing his temples.

"It doesn't work like that, Nikki, I'm afraid." He informs me finally, sitting up and leaning forward to rest his elbows on his desk.

"I was declared dead for two minutes. I died. My wife's technically a widow."

"You can't annul a four year marriage on the basis of 'I died for two minutes.' Some cases of actual death, it can take an act of congress for widow or widower to have an annulment for a marriage where their spouse is no longer alive, legitimately." He explains and I roll my eyes.

"So, what, I just get some divorce papers or something?"

"Unless I declare mental incapacity given that you went through a traumatic series of events within the last twenty-four hours and this could possibly be a very serious lapse in judgement." He argues and I stare at him.

"Stop pulling my dick."

"I'm not 'pulling your dick.' I just don't want you to make this decision and then regret it when your head clears."

I managed to wear him down and by the next morning, he left the papers by Tommy's door after Vince mentioned to me that Viv stayed over there with Tommy and Heather.

When I get home, Karen opens the door and looks at me, wide eyed and confused.

"H-Hey?" She says as I push past her and go to the phone, opting to change my answering machine.

"Hey, it's Nikki." I say. "I'm not here because I'm dead."

Karen just looks at me, astounded, and I go to my room, slamming the door.

I was good and tired and glutton for punishment because I got home that night and loaded up the biggest shot of smack I could muster and pulled the trigger.

I wake up with a sharp pain in the crook of my arm, a needle still in my skin as blood trails my forearm to collect in my palm...Jesus fucking Christ, I've officially lost it.

I take the needle out and force myself up to trudge to the living room to check my messages.

Things like, "You're an asshole," and "that's not funny," tend to be the common theme.

I guess I need to change my answering machine.

I comb through to see if I have anything from Viv.

Now would be a good time to hear her bitch me out for almost making her kill herself--because, lets face it, she's gonna blame it on me, anyway.

Nothing's found, though.

"Fuck, Vivian." I sigh out, sitting on the carpet in the living room, rubbing my forehead as a new message comes on…

"You fucker, you would be the one to fucking OD and die and then get up right after and file for divorce as if she doesn't have enough shit going on, already."

I furrow my brows at the voice.

"Axl the Twat?" I say aloud, confused, as he finishes with, "fuck you, you fucking fuck."

He hangs up and I raise my brows.

Did I die and wake up in a parallel universe? Axl defending Vivian?

Is this hell?

It cuts to the last message.

"Hey, umm...I don't know if you'll get this or not or if…" Vanity. "...I don't know what's going on but I heard something terrible on the radio and I suppose it was true--well, kind of, um…" she sighs. "We're not together anymore and I get that I just hope you're o--"

"Fuck that." I grumble, hitting delete.

I fall back and I look up at myself.

It's fucked that I bought this fucking house for Viv, and she's not even staying in it anymore.

I feel like I promised her so much and haven't given a damn thing to her except reasons to want to throw herself off of balconies.

I look down at my arm, dried blood still on my skin.

I'm fucking tired of this shit.

I let my complete exhaustion of being sick fuel me to dig through everything I own and throw out all of my rigs, any other drugs in my path, and even pour everything to get drunk off of down the sink--even the fucking cooking-wine.

Vivian's somewhere catching the holy spirit, probably, just sensing I'm finally fucking done.

Or she's somewhere in tears over me finally taking the final step to end our relationship.

I feel like it's dead in every way aside from legal.

Whisky's laying by the door, whining when I step over him to go throw the big garbage bag out.

I'd get down there and whine for her, too, but I know this is what needs to be done.

Our entire relationship has just been one giant clusterfuck, and I don't want to put her through the bullshit of having to try to forgive me and trust me, again.

I think I've already stolen enough of her peace of mind.

She'll be happier with Duff, anyway. He's a good guy. A hell of a lot more suited for her than I am.

My hand rubs the back of my neck and I realize I'm still wearing the small crucifix of her's.

I'm tempted not to give it back.

I just sigh and throw the trash out and get back in the house, getting in the shower.

When I get out, I ruffle a towel through my hair, seeing the light blinking on my answering machine.

I go over and try to keep myself from getting too excited at the thought of it being Viv before I hit play on my messages.

"Nikki, it's Doc. I know you feel like horseshit right about now but I need you to come down to the office at 5:00p.m., we're getting you guys together because we need to talk. See you then--preferebly kinda sober and coherent."

Turns out I'll have my ass chewed by Doc before Viv, after all.

I know he came down to the hospital and tore Slash and the guys new ones while I was unconscious.

I'm digging in my garbage for a couple pills to dull down my future shakes that I just know are gonna be coming before sundown.

Despite being not in shape to fucking drive anywhere, I still go because I know if I don't go, Doc will come here and I don't need him here.

It's morbid walking into the office to see Vince, Tommy, and Mick sitting and waiting for me while Doc sits behind his desk.

"Fuck me." I complain out loud, dreading what Doc's about to go on about.

"Sit." Doc tells me and I plop down beside Tommy, sighing, and Doc waits a minute before saying, "I canceled the European tour."

"What?" Vince asks and Mick furrows his brows.

"What the fuck, Doc--"

"--Shut the fuck up and listen." He cuts me off while Tommy nervously shakes his leg. "If you bastards go to Europe, one of you will come back in a body bag. And I'm not gonna be the fucking manager that runs Mötley Crüe into the ground." He states harshly.

"That's a fucking first." I laugh out, meanly, and Doc glares at me. "Guess dead rockstars don't make as much money as alive ones, huh? I coulda told ya that after Razzle--"

"--Nikki." Mick states.

"Where's my wife?" I snap next.

"Oh, the one you so stupidly filed for divorce from without giving me a heads up first? Probably with her friends that haven't put her through the ringer and fucked her over time and time again." He states.

"I didn't know I needed permission to make decisions in my personal life--that have nothing to do with Mötley Crüe."

"Are you two just gonna argue or are we gonna actually talk about why we're here because I have things to do." Vince grumbles.

"Tommy came to me and told me he's thinking about rehab." Doc tells us and I glance at Tommy, who's avoiding looking at anybody. "I'm not taking Mötley Crüe on tour again, in a studio, whatever, until you guys get your act together."

We all look at each other, exhaling, and I rub my lips together.

"Fine." Vince sighs, and Doc looks at Tommy.

He nods.

"Nikki?" Doc asks and I just stare at him.

The guys are gone in a few minutes, leaving just me and Doc and I stand up.

"I wanna see Viv." I tell Doc as he digs through some files, and he looks up and blinks from behind his desk,

"She said she's not seeing you until you get help." Doc states.

"She says that but I bet I could find her tonight and still get her under me in less than three minutes."

"Assuming she's not still under Duff." Doc says and I tense up. "You think I didn't notice how questionably close they got on tour?" He adds.

"She's going through a crisis." I reply.

"Can't imagine why." He mumbles.

"Just tell me where she's at, Doc." I snap.

"You look like shit. You need to go home and get some fuckin' rest because you're all checking in tomorrow afternoon." He adds.

"I'm not going anywhere until I see my wife."

"You mean the wife you filed for divorce from?" He questions and I roll my jaw. "Your wife is resting. You should, too."

1981

I fumble for my key to the apartment, cussing under my breath when I can't get the door opened.

"Motherfucker." I hiss, finally getting it unlocked and shoving it open…

I slam it shut and toss my keys across the room, hearing Tommy and Vince's room door creak open.

Vivian crosses her arms, a scowl on her face, her hair tousled from sleep.

"Could you be any louder?" She snaps, shutting the door behind her, going to the kitchen.

My eyes run up and down her long legs as she heads that way, only in one of Tommy's t-shirts and panties.

Fuck. Me.

I go to grab the bottle of Jack on the counter, taking a sip as she gulps some water down, a droplet escaping the glass as she drinks, rolling down her chin to her neck and I watch it, my burning throat getting dry as I try to pull myself together, my prick starting to push against my pants.

Damnit.

It's like the sane part of myself is trying to slap the hopelessly horny part of me.

She's fucking evil, dude, fuck off, I tell myself.

She's hot.

You hate each other.

I wonder what weird shit she's into in bed.

She's a bitch. You know she's a bitch. Leave her alone.

Oh, I forgot she's supposedly a virgin.

Go to bed, dumbfuck. GO TO BED.

That means I get to watch her experience stuff for the first time.

I end up chuckling, amused at the thought of seeing her pretty eyes roll in her head as pleasure bombards her for the first time.

"What?" She snaps, and I realize I've been staring at her.

I'm about to answer until I get caught up at the sight of her nipples peering through her shirt...fuck me.

"Nikki," she shoves at my shoulder, making me take my eyes off of her chest.

She just scoffs.

"Go touch yourself in the bathroom or something. Jesus." She puts the glass down and walks past me to go back to Tommy's room.

See? Evil.

I ignore the voice of reason and I catch her wrist and stop her, yanking her closer to me.

She looks like a deer in headlights for a minute before I'm grabbing at her hair closest to her neck and pulling her to me, kissing her.

It's a pretty clean kiss, no tongue, no mess, just testing the waters.

She doesn't push me away or beat me up like I always thought she would do, instead, when I pull away for a moment, she takes a breath, wide eyed, before grabbing me by my jacket, pulling me back in.

I'm surprised but I don't let it get in the way, taking lead a little to guide her.

For someone who's never been kissed before (again, allegedly) she's not awful at it like I expected--well, I didn't expect her to be awful because she's never kissed anybody, I expected her to be awful because she's so mean to me.

Her hands push my jacket off my shoulders and I push my tongue past her lips, coaxing a quiet moan from her.

Holy shit.

My hands go to her ass and she grasps at my hair as I pick her up, her legs wrapping around me.

Just to see if we're on a standard starting basis of common interests, I lift one of my hands and bring it back down, not too hard, but hard enough, and she hums, fucking biting my bottom lip and grinding into me a couple times.

I have to keep from creaming my pants just by her moving against me.

You're being stupid, I tell myself, but I can't bring myself to leave her alone now.

She's been the forbidden fruit or whatever for months now and I just gotta have it.

I take her to my room and kick the door shut with my foot, taking her to the shitty mattress on the floor.

I drop her onto it, seeing her in the glow of streetlights.

"Take your shirt off." I say, lowly, and she rubs her lips together and slowly pulls it over her head, her bare chest exposed and my dick's practically throbbing at this point.

I take her crucifix in my hand, and she looks down at it as I lick my lips.

She unfastens it and throws it aside.

I lean down and kiss her again, trailing down her neck, my tongue against her skin and she gasps out a sharp breath, her hands pulling at my shirt.

I take it off and she's sitting up and running her palms over my shoulders, down my chest, and I grasp her around her throat, pushing her back to the mattress and I feel a little shiver go up her spine.

My tongue circles one of her nipples and she lets out bated breaths as I take it between my teeth.

She moans, loudly, and I move my hand to her mouth.

"Shh!" I say. "You're gonna wake them up." I add and she nods.

I do the same to her other breast, with my hand over her mouth, but then I get an idea.

A glorious, completely selfish idea.

I take my hand off of her mouth and smirk before kissing the middle of her chest, one of her top ribs, biting into it, hard, making her scratch at my shoulder while covering her own mouth as a sharp moan is forced from her.

I run my tongue over the bite mark and continue down her stomach, stopping at the top of her panties, glancing at her.

She's still breathing heavy, hands covering her chest, tilting her head to see me.

I run my hand over her clothed core, a little noise coming from her throat, feeling a big wet spot over her cunt.

She lifts her hips and starts pulling them down and I take them and discard them, running my fingertips up the inside of her thigh before I rub my thumb around her clit that's slickened wet.

Her hands jolt to mine between her legs, her back arching, trying her hardest not to be loud.

I tug her to the edge of the mattress, and grab one of her hands, replacing mine with it before I'm looming over her for a moment. "Touch yourself." I tell her, my lips brushing against hers and I can tell she's blushing under the dark of the room. "C'mon, it's hot, just do what feels good." I add, my lips pressing against hers for a moment before I feel her hand move, a delicate gasp coming from her and I pull my lips from hers to watch her face.

Her eyes close, her head tilts back while her other hand tangles in her hair.

I stand up to take my pants off, grabbing at my painfully hard cock when she bucks her hips against her frail fingers.

"Nikki," she says, eyes still shut, head back, and I rub my hands down my face.

We haven't even fucked yet and I can already tell she's gonna make me a fucking idiot.

I get my pants off and run my thumb over my tip and get some precum on it, leaning down and holding it up to her lips.

"Hold your tongue out," I tell her and she opens her eyes and looks at me, before doing as I say.

The pad of my thumb rubs it over her tongue and she lets out a satisfied sigh, looking up at me as I lick her spit off my thumb.

I get back up on my feet for a moment and she gets up and crawls to the foot of the bed, her eyes on my prick, hunger in her eyes…

Nice try, evil bitch, you're not stealing my soul by sucking it through my dick.

I grab her hair and make her look at me.

"Lay down." I tell her and doesn't argue, eyes still ravenous…

I kiss up her kneecap to her thigh, sliding up and up until--

"Oh, fuck!" She whimpers out when my tongue swirls her clit around, getting the first taste of Saint Viv.

My eyes are the ones to roll back, now.

Holy shit.

It's good because she's Satan and needs something to trap you with, that little voice comes back.

Her hands find my hair, her lips find my name and if I don't get ahold of myself, I'll be finding God based on this experience alone.

Apparently she's finding him right now because all she can muster out is, "oh, God."

I find a good rhythm with my tongue, her pussy starting to grind against my face as teasing, little sultry moans flutter through the room.

After a minute I feel her body tense up, and I pat myself on the back as she comes, my tongue lapping at her entrance to get drunk off of her, my hands running over her stomach and thighs.

Vivian claims we just went right into sex without doing anything aside from making out before hand but I distinctly remember going down on her. She must've blacked out once she realized we were about to fool around or something but I remember that happening because it was something I'd dreamed up doing ever since I met her, creepy but honest.

I pry myself from her to grab a rubber behind the head of the mattress, the both of us pulling ourselves up there.

I get it on and turn over, getting on top of her.

She's already hooking her legs around me before I even line myself up with her.

She looks like she's high or drunk, eyes nearly shut, her lip between her teeth, her head tilted slightly, exposing her neck.

I lean down and kiss her neck, her skin damp with sweat and she sighs.

I rub my tip against her opening and she closes her eyes.

I push into her, having to coach myself through because fuck her pussy is tight, and she winces, her mouth opening but nothing coming out. I'm about to ask her if she's alright when she speaks first.

"Take it off." She tells me.

"What?"

"The condom, take it off."

"Are you trying to trap me or something?" I snap at her.

"I wanna feel you." She tells me softly, and I guess it's kinda sweet, or primal, whatever.

I pull out of her and take the condom off, dropping it by the bed before I'm pushing back into her.

We both moan, and I can feel her body stretching to accommodate my entrance, her face showing pain.

I pullout again, but before I can get out completely, she pulls me back in with her legs, letting out a high pitched breath.

More of her juices coat over my cock.

"Fuck, Vivian," I say it, thrusting into her again and she wraps her arms around my back, hugging me to her, and my lips find hers as I push into her again, and again, roughly, the feeling of heaven washing over me each time I go back inside her.

I make her take every inch, forcing myself to fit the last inch and a half despite her body not having room, and she writhes underneath me.

"I think I'm bleeding." She tells me breathlessly and I think she wants me to back off or get off her, but when I go to, she says, "No, keep going, it feels good."

The look on her face is a clear indication that she's into it.

I'm kind of shocked that churchy Vivian is into the same shit I'm into, and I grab her throat, again, and kiss her, our tongues moving together.

"I wanna get on top next." She tells me through moans.

"Why?" I ask.

"I wanna see it." She says and I furrow my brows for a second before I catch on.

I'm rolling off of her and onto my back, my hands running up her thighs and waist when she gets on top of me, and I grab myself as she straddles me, pushing it against her before my hands pull her down onto me.

She screws her eyes shut, as she sinks down to the hilt, her thighs shaking, and I hit her ass cheek as hard as I can and she gets so tight around me I can't pull out until she relaxes.

"You can't do that shit." I tell her harshly, biting back my urge to go ahead and come, and she relaxes a little more as my hands hold at her waist, guiding her movements since she's never done this before.

"Does it feel good?" I ask her, her little moans and whimpers getting me even more hot and bothered.

"Yes," she nods, tipping her head back. "So good."

I look between us, clear view of her pussy taking it, and I sigh.

"It looks good, too." I tell her and she leans down over me, her forehead against my chest as she watches me fuck her for a moment before looking at me, kissing me sloppily, her chest pressing against mine making her sigh when her nipples brush against my skin.

When she pulls away, I'm sticking two fingers in her mouth, taking her by surprise but she starts sucking on them in a second, and I force them down her throat, making her gag, as I start pounding into her, making her nearly shriek out but I gag her with my hand around her throat.

"You're so pretty." I tell her, spit all down her chin from choking on my fingers, eyes nearly shut, my hand around her throat, and I glance down between us, licking my lips. "That pussy's pretty, too." I add and she cries out when my other hand starts rubbing at her clit.

I take my hand from her throat and she gasps for air.

"Nikki, I'm--"

She can't finish.

I roll onto her again, getting on my knees and lift her hips, continuing to hammer into her roughly and her eyes go to the back of her head, as her cum soaks the both of us.

Why the fuck didn't she tell me she can come like that?

I feel myself reaching my own end and go to pull out but she tugs me onto her, kissing me, her legs snaking around me.

At first I don't think she realizes I'm about to blow my kids everywhere, then when I try to pullout, she says, "do it in me, I've heard it feels good."

I look at her like she's crazy because it's something I'd never expect her to say.

"Please, Nikki, let me have it."

I don't have time to argue because I'm finishing with a grunt and a satisfied smile at the sight of tears of pleasure in her eyes before her lids screw shut, her mouth open as a moan leaves her, her body sparking off with shivers.

I let her have it.

"You're a slut." I tell her, thrusting into her a couple more times and she hums at my words.

"Shut up." She says next and I kiss her one last time before rolling off of her.

She pulls the covers over her chest and closes her eyes, tired, and I watch her for a moment.

Okay, she may not be a slut, but I know she's gonna be able to get away with murder and I'm gonna let her because she's fucking Vivian.

I ran myself into my own grave, but heroin and Vivian were major catalysts, but I know I was a catalyst for her own rock bottom, too. We were just too fucking young to know better, I guess. We fell in love and got hooked on playing house without actually stopping to think what all it would look like. Of course, neither of us expected me to be on smack, neither of us expected me to reach the level of stupidity that I reached with Vanity, and neither of us expected her to be conceiving a lovechild while I was next door dying, and I certainly didn't expect to file for divorce first, if at all. I remember that first night together in that shitty apartment got me hooked on her. Not just sex, I actually started listening to what she had to say after that, and wanting to have conversations, and hangout...I fell in love and she made it easy for me to. It was like boiling a frog. Things got worse and worse slowly overtime until BAM! I had Vanity, crack, and junk, and Vivian had Duff and a secret savings account she didn't think our lawyer would get record of. I was pissed, but I knew it was my fault.

All of it was.

I had promised her the world and instead stole everything from her like a life-sucking demon.

She wasn't the evil, manipulative bitch.

I was.

#nikki sixx #nikki sixx x oc #nikki sixx fanfiction #gateway drug

38 notes · View notes