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two-am-outlines-only · 2 years ago

Text

Dee Little Snake

Summary: Janus uses age regression as a way to destress but has little control over it whenever he grows upset. Trying to keep a secret like that can be hard when you’re only four years old, and thus family bonding ensues in a way nobody expected, least of all Deceit.

Chapter Warnings: Mild angst

Ships: none

Word Count: 2358

AO3 Link

Chapter 4 - Safe at Night

Pulling just so to settle his sweater sleeves in their usual knot against his collar bones, Patton shut his door quietly and continued down the hall. It was late, almost eleven at night, and Patton knew if anyone caught him awake at this hour they’d call him a hypocrite. He and Logan were constantly nagging the others to get to bed earlier- Patton admittedly less so just because he knew how easy it was to accidentally binge Parks and Rec into the wee hours of the morning. Shaking his head he decided it didn’t matter, as long as he was quiet no one would notice anyway.

He stopped outside Virgil’s room, the darkness beneath it not really telling him whether he was awake or not. Too often had he peeked in to check on him so find him sitting up with a blanket over his shoulders and his headphones on, scaring the daylights out of Patton the first few times seeing nothing but Virgil’s pale, spooked face streaked with leftover eyeshadow shining through the darkness. He hadn’t done it as much lately because of- well everything that was going on. He figured if he looked in and Virgil was asleep he wouldn’t want to ruin what little rest he got with how tense things had been.

With that depressing thought he turned to see Roman’s door a little ways down the hall. He hadn’t been coming out much lately, seeming to prefer the company of whatever magical entities he came up with in his world rather than what he could find in the common room. And that was...fine. It was completely fine, of course it was! They all needed a bit of a break every now and again and he couldn’t expect every member of his family to want to be around him all the time.

Except that it had been a few weeks since he had had his meltdown; a few weeks since he had gone back on everything he had ever known to be right and accepted De- Janus- into their lives completely and agreed to work with him rather than actively against him. And he knew- he knew how Roman must have taken it. How many times had he been confused about something but forged ahead anyway because everyone had seemed to need him to have the answers? He was the dad, of course he had answers! But then- those answers had changed as they had grown and earned experience and knowledge but was too stubborn to change along with it, so too then Roman had been. Roman had had his world view flipped just as much as Patton had but Roman had trusted Patton’s insistence that he knew all the answers- and even when he began to admit he didn’t he remained resolute that there were things you just knew- and still Roman trusted that. Now that was wrong, so was Patton, and the one person Patton had always said did nothing but deceive he now knew was one to trust. But Roman was past trusting him, and after so many years Patton really couldn’t blame him.

He realized then how unsettling it would look for him to be simply standing in the middle of the hallway, motionless with a deep frown lining his face. Shaking off the melancholy he brought his hands to his face and rubbed up and down a bit more roughly than was necessary, standing his bangs on end but it fit the late hour so he supposed it didn’t matter. He glanced at Logan’s door but the more responsible side would most definitely be asleep by now so he didn’t even bother stopping, determined to make it to the kitchen to get a glass of water and maybe even cocoa before trying to turn in for the night. He could worry about his kiddos when he could string together more than two coherent thoughts that didn’t end with him feeling like he shouldn’t leave his bed for the next ten years at least.

He was going to walk past Janus’ room but paused and cocked his head to listen better. A faint tune could just barely be heard through the door though Patton couldn’t place what it could be. Was Janus playing music? Could he not sleep either? Maybe he’d be willing to join him in the kitchen for a late night snack if he wasn’t too tired; Patton could definitely use the company with the way his thoughts were straying tonight. Stepping closer so his feet were almost right up against the door jam he could see a very faint, warm light shining underneath, He leaned in and held his breath, straining to try and hear whatever it was that was playing. What he heard however only confused him further.

A child’s voice was singing a soft, wordless tune that didn’t seem to have any inspiration behind; just something simple seemingly to keep themselves occupied. Occasionally the tune would stop and they would mumble something he didn’t quite catch but then it would pick back up again just as quietly. Patton leaned away in confusion, sure that he recognized the voice but why-

Dee! Putting the pieces together only made him more confused. If Janus was regressed then why was he alone? And why was he still awake? From what he remembered Dee was only four so it was definitely way past his bedtime and more importantly he didn’t hear Virgil in with him, which definitely meant he was alone considering Virgil was constantly talking to Dee when they were together- much more than when Janus was out of little space but Patton suspected that was just something they’d eventually have to work out. Puffing his cheeks out he debated whether or not he should intrude. Dee was little, up late and alone but Patton had also only found out Janus regressed at all a few days ago and he honestly wouldn’t blame the kiddo if he didn’t fully trust him or want him around just yet, if he ever would at all. Virgil needed his rest, Roman was already mad at both him and Janus, Remus….well anyway- and he was ninety nine percent certain Logan would not be a side Dee would want to know about this.

The door cracked open before he could make up his mind, Dee’s fluffy curls making him smile even though he was internally panicking. Sure he was the more father oriented side but he didn’t know if he was actually good with kids last time he had just seen a crying child and wanted it to stop but this time he was the one almost in tears and he really didn’t want to cry in front of one of his kiddos when they were this small and-

A tiny hand slipping into his brought him out of his thought spiral and he found himself stumbling forward as Dee tugged insistently, leaving the door cracked behind them as he was led to a ring of stuffed animals surrounding a small electric candle. The smaller side let go and patted the space beside him as an offer to Patton, which he took somewhat nervously.

“I can’t do all the voices.” So saying he was handed a floppy stuffed elephant, the poor thing bending in the middle from lack of stuffing but certainly not from lack of hugs it had surely received. Dee picked up a stuffed tiger that was lying prone beside him, no doubt the one he had been playing with before he opened the door. It’s fur was a bit ratty and it was just as floppy as all of them seemed to be- in fact most of these seemed to be copies of Thomas’ old stuffed animals he had had growing up, finding a new purpose in his mind with his smallest side. Patton smiled at the thought of all their past friends finding new adventures with someone who clearly loved them just as much, running his thumbs over the elephants soft ears lovingly as he watched Dee get the tiger into position and begin moving it around in a strange sort of rhythm that looked like an odd sort of dance, picking up his previous humming with the most adorable look of concentration Patton had ever seen. The child looked up at him expectantly, making Patton realize he was probably meant to hum along to whatever performance the tiger was putting on for the rest of them.

Smiling softly he brought the elephant up and began making it dance, clearing his throat before humming quietly along with Dee. He really should be in bed but Patton was loath to ruin this moment. It was so peaceful- the electric candle flickered like a real flame and the lamp in the corner illuminated everything just enough to give the room a soft golden glow to it. The carpet was soft underneath him and the humming, nonsensical as it was, was soothing and just loud enough to remind him what he was doing. He wasn’t exactly sure what game they were playing but he didn't mind not knowing the rules, happy to let Dee set the pace as he swayed from side to side with a small smile on his face. He wished so badly someone else was here to take a picture so he could keep this image in his head for the rest of his life, he didn’t remember Janus ever looking this content even when they were actually kids, and to see it now was as gut wrenching as it was heart melting.

“I don’t know what you’re listening to but if you could at least shut your door it would much apprecia-” Both of their heads snapped up, Dee immediately leaning back to hide most of his small frame behind Patton while said side clutched the elephant to his chest in panic. Logan stood still in the doorway, confusion clear on his face as he stepped in the room and shut the door behind him. “I didn’t mean to- I'm sorry, I can leave. I wasn’t aware-”

Dee poked his head out from behind Patton and waved, making Logan stop again mid-sentence to hesitantly wave back. Patton watched, still a bit tense, as Logan crouched down on the balls of his feet and smiled softly at the smaller side. “May I ask how old you are, Janus?”

“Dee!”

“I apologize, I’ll remember that from now on. May I ask how old you are, Dee?”

Patton smiled as Dee nodded vigorously, tiger still held tight to his chest as he held out four fingers. “I’m four!”

“A very good age to be, there are many milestones to achieve at four years old.”

“Milestones?”

“An action or event marking a significant change or stage in development.” Logan explained. “Most of those happen with a good night’s rest though. Why are you still awake?”

Dee looked down at the stuffed animals in front of his, rocking a little in place. “I wanted to play.”

“Activities like this are usually reserved for when it's daylight. Was there a reason you can’t play then?”

“Everyone else is awake.”

Patton set the elephant down gently. “You’re afraid someone will see you small if you play in the daytime huh?”

Logan pressed his lips together as Dee nodded, seeming to not want to elaborate. “Alright, that’s understandable. So Patton usually looks after you then?”

“No I just-”

“Vee! But he’s asleep.”

“Well, in the morning it might be a good idea then to talk to Virgil about how to better accommodate you during the day so that you can still play but not have to worry about anyone else walking in on you. We might be able to square away a room for you or modify this one so that no one could enter without your permission, provided the door remains shut. How does that sound?”

“You could do that?” Dee’s eyes were enormous as he looked at Logan like he had just confirmed the moon was made of his favorite cheese.

Chuckling softly, the logical side adjusted his glasses. “Theoretically. But we need you well rested if we’re going to figure it out tomorrow.”

Patton smiled as Dee seemed to weigh his options, pouting slightly as he stood and made his way towards the bed. Turning off the candle and moving to set it on the night stand he reached for the blankets but stopped himself before he could do anything. “Do you want tucked in kiddo?”

Nodding shyly Dee laid back and clutched the tiger even tighter while wiggling into a comfortable position. Patton waited until he was done before grabbing up the thick comforter and carefully laying it over him, being sure to tuck it away from his face and loose enough that he could free his arms if he wanted. Smiling he squeezed Dee’s shoulder gently as his eyes drooped tiredly, moving towards the door that Logan was already easing open quietly.

“Goodnight, Dee.”

“Goodnight, Dee. Sleep well.”

“Goodnight. Love you.”

They both paused and looked back but the small side was already asleep, curled around his stuffed animal comfortably. Slipping out of the room Patton smiled at Logan’s small smile, which immediately turned questioning as Patton beamed back at him.

“What?”

“You like kids.”

Taken aback, Logan shook his head. “I just know some basic developmental needs and how to apply them. Liking has nothing to do with it.”

At Patton’s shit-eating grin, Logan rolled his eyes. “They’re pleasant enough to be around when they’re well-behaved.”

“So you-”

“Go to bed Patton.” Logan shook his head as he began to walk back to his room.

“I was gonna make cocoa before I saw Dee was awake. If you were having trouble sleeping I could make enough for both of us-” He let the offer hang as Logan stilled. He knew the other man secretly loved hot cocoa late at night for as much as he preached about proper sleeping schedules.

He smiled wider as Logan walked briskly past him down the stairs. “Just this once, to help us sleep.”

“Sure, Logan.”

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#oren writes #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #janus sanders #sanders sides janus #deceit sanders #sanders sides deceit #kid!janus #agere sanders sides #agere fic #logan sanders #sanders sides logan #patton sanders #sanders sides patton

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twentytarot · 3 years ago

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wow, it’s been a while, hasn’t it? sorry that i kinda dropped off the map there, but you know how it is. life calls when it does. anyway, today we’re doing a reading on your next five years. for this reading in particular, if you’re drawn to more than one group then i’d suggest you read them both, because 5 years is a long time and it’s definitely possible for bits and pieces of your prediction to be scattered around this reading. devise a strategy that works for you even, for example, if i’m drawn to pile 1 first and then 4, maybe the beginning of pile 1 is more relevant to me but the end of pile 4 will resonate more. enough of my rambling, on to the reading!

*year 1 means from now till year from now, year 2 1-2 years from now, and etc.

PILE ONE: GLASS PANELS

overall, the next five years has you waiting for the right moment to begin living. currently you are stuck in a place where you’ve been hurt and betrayed— yet you cannot leave yet. you’re probably trying to plan a way out, but perhaps, surrounded by the unbreakable glass panels in your life, you’ve come to the same conclusion as me: it’s not going to be any time soon. for the next two years, you will have no way out. however, you will become much more resilient so that 3 years from now, you have the power and strength to break out of your current situation and build your dream life. it seems that there will be a lot of movement leading up to this event; perhaps you will be moving house and leaving most of the people around you now behind. whatever the case, in year 3, you will be building a new foundation for yourself. if there are responsibilities and duties you cannot fully leave behind from your past, you will learn to balance them in year 4. in year 5, you’re building up your finances, having found your footing at home and at work. finally, five years from now, you will finally feel like you are in a place where you can feel stable and secure financially and emotionally.

in other words, the main message for you is “one step at a time”. you will have the life you want, but it will take a while. for now, you will have to heal your inner wounds and learn to brave the coldest of storms on your own. then, the next step will be to gain the courage to forge ahead and create a foundation that will allow you to build your life the way you want, away from the toxic people that you have had to rely on. once you have found your own independent footing, then the next step will be to go after you want, especially in career and life purpose. don’t be afraid if things start coming down, almost no one goes through their 20s and 30s without having to destroy something fundamental. finally, once you have learned to juggle all of this alone, the final piece will fall into place, and that is the rest of the world. friends, a new family, and days that make you so excited you want to sleep early so that the sun rises faster tomorrow. this is a long journey, but i’m confident it’s worth it. you got this! :)

PILE TWO: APPLE PASTRIES

for the next five years, you will ride a wave that brings you to the top of the world, and then you’ll prepare for the next chapter in life. we start off in year 1 with you being a little unsure of what it is you want to do long-term— perhaps you’re aware that it’s about time you start settling on a path with how responsibilities are piling up, but you’re also rather reluctant to let go of all your ideas and inspiration. that’s alright, you don’t have to decide just yet. in year 2, things get a little more exciting in the personal department: you might meet your future spouse, get engaged, get married, or even have a kid, depending on where you are in personal life right now. i’m leaning towards you being pretty young and just beginning to entertain the idea of marrying your special someone. whether it’s navigating a new relationship or wedding planning, you’ll be pretty caught up in it in year 2, and your work life will naturally fall into the background. not for long, though, because someone enters your life in year 3 and they don’t have your best interests in mind. they’re not out to get you, but they also don’t care if they had to step on you to get higher. this person brings you a whole lot of clarity on your life purpose and career, though, and so you transform your life quite rapidly, especially in view of the fact that you’re getting older and it can’t be helped, you’re going to have to start making some commitments. the transition is very successful and in year 4 you reap all the benefits. you are like water, you balance the push and pull effortlessly like the waves, you bring energy wherever you go, you complete the cycle and finish what you start. you’re in a position to give advice now, and people begin to look up to you. life’s... well, it’s actually pretty good.

year 5 is whole new chapter, likely on patience. the bliss of making it through one chapter in life never lasts long enough, and it is time for your life to move on. take care of yourself and always be open to growth. take the people that will betray you as lessons on how to better watch out for and protect yourself. wield the sword of clarity with conviction. before you know it, everything else will follow.

PILE THREE: FLAT WHITE

your next five years is about breaking free. you are often harshly judged by the people around you, and it’s like you can never catch a break. you wished for a peaceful getaway, and your wish is only partially granted. let me stop for a second and explain. for example, if you’re harshly judged at work, you might be able to get out of working with the particular team that makes your life difficult, but you won’t be able to leave the company entirely. something like that. you’ll have to do more than what you’re doing right now to truly get out of this situation. thankfully, towards the end of year 2, your heart hardens. enough is enough, you decide, and with your sharpened sword, you go after what you want.

the battle in year 3 is ugly. you say things you wish you didn’t have to, you do things in ways that keep you up at night. sometimes we don’t have a choice, though, because it was the only way you would be able to take what is yours and run. just in time, too, because in year 4, you will realise the stability you thought you were being offered was as strong as a house of cards. by defying expectations and going out on your own, you have nudged this house and cause it to topple. you get to watch from somewhere a little further away, but it’s still hard to deal with the questioning, the anxiety, the wondering whether you shouldn’t have left in the first place. no, darling, of course you should have left. year 5 is a year filled with so much more stability and happiness, it’s like you can’t recognise the person you used to be, the world you used to live in. if you thought that you will never truly make it out of there, my cards are here to tell you that there is a day where you will stop wanting to cry before you go to sleep, there is a day where the demons will shut up for good. so don’t give up! you’ll make it out of there if it’s the last thing you do, because that’s you: strong, persistent, and forever optimistic in your heart. and this personality of yours is what makes you lucky. when you want something with all of your heart, the universe can’t help but want to give it to you.

PILE FOUR: NIGHT

pile four, your reading is all about finding love! things are about to slow down for you now, and it looks like it will continue to be slow for awhile. and honestly, for you i don’t think that’s a bad thing at all, seeing as you are just coming out of having had to make difficult choices and work hard for what you want. for the next year or so, you’ll simply be continuing what you’ve started and letting the payoff roll in. in year 2, however, you’ll begin to look around at your life again and find out what is it you want next. at that point, perhaps you will come to the conclusion that it is love you’re looking for. or maybe it’s just excitement, since you’re pretty collected yourself. you’re the kind to meditate and sleep on things before you decide, and the person you meet in year 3 is decisively... not that kind of person. they’re hardworking, smart, funny and honest, but they’re also rather blunt and impatient. they’ll jump from one thing to the next without thought; they’ll argue with you through the walls of your room is it means they’ll win. you may wonder if this person is going to force you become their parent. well, no. this person has entered your life to show you that the world has so much more to offer if your just take the leap and jump. this person is here to show you that sometimes, you don’t sleep on decisions. you just go for it. once you begin to see the charm of this person, they will light up your life as a friend, a listening ear, then a worthy partner, then a worthy opponent, and then finally, in year 4... a worthy soulmate. and you will realise that taking risks is actually not as scary as it seemed, because this person is right next to you, and will be there to help you pick up the pieces should you fall. this might be a new feeling for you, because you come from a background of having to watch your own back all the time. being able to take calculated risks is what pushes one up from being a prince to a king. it pushes you and your life purpose to its full potential, and even if the ride of taking risks and forging ahead is rocky with this person in year 5, you will come out hardships closer than ever, stronger than ever.

#pick a card #pick a card reading #pick a pile #pick a pile reading #tarot reading #free tarot reading

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5-falsehoods-phonated · 4 years ago

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Dee Little Snake

Series Summary: Janus uses age regression as a way to destress but has little control over it whenever he grows upset. Trying to keep a secret like that can be hard when you’re only four years old, and thus family bonding ensues in a way nobody expected, least of all Deceit.

Chapter 4: Safe at Night

Chapter summary: Patton can't sleep and Dee doesn't want to, so Logan offers a solution to fix at least one of their problems.

Warnings: mild angst, if there's more please let me know.

Taglist (ask to be added or removed): @a-different-s1de @emo--nightmare

General taglist (ask to be added or removed): @janus-is-an-adorable-snek-boi @logans-library @im-an-anxious-wreck

WC: 2,358

Except that it had been a few weeks since he had had his meltdown; a few weeks since he had gone back on everything he had ever known to be right and accepted De- Janus- into their lives completely and agreed to work with him rather than actively against him. And he knew- he knew how Roman must have taken it. How many times had he been confused about something but forged ahead anyway because everyone had seemed to need him to have the answers? He was the dad, of course he had answers! But then- those answers had changed as they had grown and earned experience and knowledge but was too stubborn to change along with it, so too then Roman had been. Roamn had had his world view flipped just as much as Patton had but Roman had trusted Patton’s insistence that he knew all the answers- and even when he began to admit he didn’t he remained resolute that there were things you just knew- and still Roman trusted that. Now that was wrong, so was Patton, and the one person Patton had always said did nothing but deceive he now knew was one to trust. But Roman was past trusting him, and after so many years Patton really couldn’t blame him.

Dee! Putting the pieces together only made him more confused. If Janus was regressed then why was he alone? And why was he still awake? From what he remembered Dee was only four so it was definitely way past his bedtime and more importantly he didn’t hear Virgil in with him, which definitely meant he was alone considering Virgil was constantly talking to Dee when they were together- much more than when Janus was out of little space but Patton suspected that was just something the’d eventually have to work out. Puffing his cheeks out he debated whether or not he should intrude. Dee was little, up late and alone but Patton had also only found out Janus regressed at all a few days ago and he honestly wouldn’t blame the kiddo if he didn’t fully trust him or want him around just yet, if he ever would at all. Virgil needed his rest, Roman was already mad at both him and Janus, Remus….well anyway- and he was ninety nine percent certain Logan would not be a side Dee would want to know about this.

Smiling softly he brought the elephant up and began making it dance, clearing his throat before humming quietly along with Dee. He really should be in bed but Patton was loath to ruin this moment. It was so peaceful- the electric candle flickered like a real flame and the lamp in the corner illuminated everything just enough to give the room a soft golden glow to it. The carpet was soft underneath him and the humming, nonsensical as it was, was soothing and just loud enough to remind him what he was doing. He wasn’t exactly sure what game they were playing but he didn;t mind not knowing the rules, happy to let Dee set the pace as he swayed from side to side with a small smile on his face. He wished so badly someone else was here to take a picture so he could keep this image in his head for the rest of his life, he didn’t remember Janus ever looking this content even when they were actually kids, and to see it now was as gut wrenching as it was heart melting.

“Dee!”

“I apologize, I’ll remember that from now on. May I ask how old you are, Dee?”

Patton smiled as Dee nodded vigorously, tiger still held tight to his chest as he held out four fingers. “I’m four!”

“A very good age to be, there are many milestones to achieve at four years old.”

“Milestones?”

“An action or event marking a significant change or stage in development.” Logan explained. “Most of those happen with a good night’s rest though. Why are you still awake?”

Dee looked down at the stuffed animals in front of his, rocking a little in place. “I wanted to play.”

“Activities like this are usually reserved for when it's daylight. Was there a reason you can’t play then?”

“Everyone else is awake.”

Patton set the elephant down gently. “You’re afraid someone will see you small if you play in the daytime huh?”

Logan pressed his lips together as Dee nodded, seeming to not want to elaborate. “Alright, that’s understandable. So Patton usually looks after you then?”

“No I just-”

“Vee! But he’s asleep.”

“Well, in the morning it might be a good idea then to talk to Virgil about how to better accommodate you during the day so that you can still play but not have to worry about anyone else walking in on. We might be able to square away a room for you or modify this one so that no one could enter without your permission, provided the door remains shut. How does that sound?”

“You could do that?” Dee’s eyes were enormous as he looked at Logan like he had just confirmed the moon was made of his favorite cheese.

Chuckling softly, the logical side adjusted his glasses. “Theoretically. But we need you well rested if we’re going to figure it out tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, Dee.”

“Goodnight, Dee. Sleep well.”

“Goodnight. Love you.”

“What?”

“You like kids.”

Taken aback, Logan shook his head. “I just know some basic developmental needs and how to apply them. Liking has nothing to do with it.”

At Patton’s shit-eating grin, Logan rolled his eyes. “They’re pleasant enough to be around when they’re well-behaved.”

“So you-”

“Go to bed Patton.” Logan shook his head as he began to walk back to his room.

He smiled wider as Logan walked briskly past him down the stairs. “Just this once, to help us sleep.”

“Sure, Logan.”

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This work is also available on AO3!

If you liked this please consider reblogging. Reblogging helps share a creators work so others can see it too!

As far as this story goes, this is something I wrote as a one shot and didn't think people would be interested in but now I have seventeen chapters planned so thank you for the interest! Note that Roman and Janus will be on better terms at some point and also Remus also comes in later, and knowing that info if anyone has something they want to see happen (side hangouts, specific regression prompts anything like that), as long as it can be story relevant and it isn't plot heavy I'll happily add it!

I'll accept ideas up to Feb. 20 and you can comment them here, or send an ask, anon is always on! Thanks for reading ^-^

#false writes #dee little snake #janus sanders #agere sfw #sanders sides agere #age regression #patton sanders #logan sanders #mild angst #logan is really good with kids fight me

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yurtletheturtlehenderson · 5 years ago

Text

S.T. REWRITE - S2:E6; Chapter Six, The Spy - [Pt. 3]

A Will Byers x Reader Series

Will’s connection to a shadowy evil grows stronger, but no one’s quite sure how to stop it. Elsewhere, Dustin and Steve forge an unlikely bond.

||3rd Person POV||

The cubes of meat hit the wooden boards with a wet slap. Traveling along the abandoned tracks is Dustin and Steve, each carrying a bucket of butchered meat. Their bait.

"All right, so let me get this straight," Steve sighs, looking at the boy just paces ahead of him. "You kept something you knew was probably dangerous in order to impress a girl who... who you just met?"

Dustin rolls his eyes, sighing irritably as he throws more bait on the track.

"All right, that's grossly oversimplifying things."

Steve shakes his head.

"I mean, why would a girl like some nasty slug anyway?"

"An interdimensional slug?" Dustin smirks. "Because it's awesome."

Steve picked up his pace, making his way to Dustin's side.

"Well, even if she thought it was cool, which she didn't, I... I just..." he shrugs, his lips forming a tight-lipped smile. "I don't know. I just feel like you're trying way too hard."

"Well, not everyone can have your perfect hair, alright?"

"It's not about the hair, man," Steve says, shrugging once more as he lazily kicks a stray pinecone from his path. "The key to girls is just... just acting like you don't care."

Dustin looks at him curiously, not expecting the insight.

"Even if you do?"

Steve nods. "Yeah, exactly m. If drives them nuts."

"Then what?"

"You just wait until, uh..." he pauses to throw another chuckle of bait behind him. "until you feel it."

"Feel what?"

"It's like before it's gonna storm, you know? You can't see it, but you can feel it, like this, uh... electricity, you know?"

A spark of recognition flickers across Dustin's face, and he nods eagerly.

"Oh, like the electromagnetic field when the clouds in the atmosphere--"

Steve shakes his head, an unimpressed look on his face. He head flicks to the side, sweeping away a stray lock of hair tickling his forehead.

"No, no, no, no, no. Like a... Like a sexual electricity."

A look of surprise crosses Dustin's face.

"Oh,"

The longer the day stretched on, the more Steve is bewildered at the ever-changing events he could never have foreseen. Nevertheless, he gestures to Dustin as he continues.

"You feel that and then you make your move."

There is a brief pause before Dustin asks simply.

"So that's when you kiss her?"

Steve's eyes widen, and he can't decide whether he should roll his eyes or laugh.

"No, whoa, whoa. Slow down, Romeo."

"Sorry." He mumbles.

"Sure, okay, some girls, yeah, they want you to he aggressive. You know, strong, hot and heavy, like a..." He shrugs once more, looking back at the boy who had begun to lag shyly behind. "I don't know, like a lion."

Dustin hums thoughtfully, his gloved hand reaching inside the white steel bucket as he listens.

"But others, you gotta be slow, you gotta be stealthy, like a..."

His mind travels back in time for the briefest of moments, his heartwarming at the memory of sneaking innocent moments with Nancy Wheeler. He finds himself smiling.

"Like a ninja."

"What type is Nancy?"

And just like that, his smile falters.

"Nancy's different. She's different than the other girls."

"Yeah, she seems pretty special, I guess."

"Yeah. Yeah, she is."

"But this girl's special, too, you know. It's just, like, something about her."

"Woah, woah, woah. Hey, hey, hey" Steve says, stopping them in their tracks and he turns to face Dustin.

"What?"

Steve studies the boy's body language, eyeing him suspiciously.

"You're not falling in love with this girl, are you?"

It is clear to Steve that Dustin has grown shocked and slightly uncomfortable.

"Uh, no. No."

His suspicious stare lingers, but he continues them down the tracks.

"Okay, good. Don't."

"I won't."

His attention returns to the tracks and laying the bait but his thoughts continue to spill from his lips.

"She's only going to break your heart, and you're way too young for that shit."

A thick silence settles between the duo once more, a common theme so far. His thoughts now louder than ever, amplified in the silent autumn air and Steve feels his pity for the boy growing. The kid's got heart, he can tell, and despite his better judgment, he feels a soft spot growing for him.

"Fabergé."

It's Dustin's turn to give a quizzical look, his brow quickly quirks.

"What?"

Steve gestures to his full head of hair, failing to meet Dustin's eye.

"It's Faberegé Organics. Use the shampoo and conditioner, and when your hair's damp... It's not wet, okay? When's its damp..."

"-Damp."

"You do four puffs of the Farrah Fawcett spray."

Steve doesn't have to see the look on Dustin's face to know the kid is grinning madly. He can hear the smirk in his voice, Dustin is clearly holding back a snicker and already Steve is beginning to regret his decision.

"Farrah Fawcett spray?"

"Yeah, Farrah Fawcet." Steve halts once more, making sure he towers over the boy as he jabs a finger in his face. "You tell anyone I just told you that and your ass is grass. You're dead, Henderson. Do you understand?"

Dustin nods, suppressing his smile as he avoids Steve's gaze.

"Yup."

A new silence blankets the air, with it a new sense of commonality, and understanding. It's comfortable. Another smirk tugs at Dustin's lips as they continue their journey, laying slabs of meat.

"Farrah Fawcett, really?"

Steve shrugs.

"I mean, she's hot."

The tension melts away in the wake of their forming bonds of friendship, they share a smile and an occasional nod. They are each surprised by the unexpected comfort each other’s company brought. Unbeknownst to the pair, the farther they ventured, the closer they got to the decaying tunnels beneath their feet. And to their right, a bright yellow flag planted in the dirt, a marking made earlier by Hopper and his team that signaled rotting earth and decay.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Hopper's fingers release the button as he lets out a defeated sigh. He sits in his truck, radio in hand and he has sent their secret code to El, letting her know it was him. But his shoulders sag, he knows what he has to say needs to be spoken aloud, no translated. Guilt has been a heavyweight on his shoulders since their fight, his inability to mend their mistakes and all the things left unsaid. His time in the tunnels crosses his mind, and how fearful he was when he believed he wouldn't make it.

Not by death, so much. Of course, it was frightening, but what really bothered him - scared him - is what would happen to her if he never saw her again. Not only the way they had left things but what would become of her? How would she stay safe and who could truly know how to take care of her, nurture her. The last thing he wanted was to leave her on her own, and he certainly didn't want to risk going inside and dealing with the problem at hand, without talking to her.

Or least letting her know he was sorry.

So here he sat, his body hunched forward as he lay against the wheel, the radio grasped tightly in his hand. His voice shakey and his heartbreaking. He took a deep breath, and let the words spill out.

"Hey, it's, uh... It's me. I know that I've been gone too long, and uh... It's-- I just, I want you to know that it's not about you and it's not about our fight. Okay?"

His garbled voice rings out in the empty cabin, no one around to hear him but the several boxes are strewn around the room.

"Something came up, and I will... I will explain it all when I see you. I just... I just want you to know that I'm not mad."

His grip on the radio and his own hand grows tighter, he clutches it tightly like a lifeline. He can no longer fight the tears that threaten to spill, and his eyes go red and puffy.

"I'm just sorry. About everything."

The hot tears sting his eyes, he has to stop to collect himself as best he can but it is almost no use at all. His heart lurches, but for the first time in a long time, it is alive. He wishes with all his might that he can be there with her, comfort her. But he knows he can't. He continues to battle the enormous lump in his throat but it is winning.

"I don't want you to get hurt at all. And I don't want to lose you."

He chokes on his tears, but he feels the soft rumble deep within his chest where a weak chuckle forms. He sniffles and speaks once more into the machine.

"Just make sure you heat up some real food. Not just Eggos. And I want you to eat all the peas, even if they're mushy and gross. And..."

He sighs, knowing more than anything he intends to and will keep his next promise. He would move mountains to keep it, and has every intention of showing her, and himself, that he will be there for her.

"I will be home soon."

The monitor clicks off, and the car and the empty cabin go silent.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"This is him last week."

The photo on the projector slides into place and shifts into focus. A map of Will's brain, for the most part normal, but sprinkled across the grayscale map is several flurries of activity. Patches of red.

"And there are the hippocampal abnormalities we had discussed. Nothing out of line with what we've seen from others suffering from post-traumatic. But..."

The medical team is gathered in one of several conference rooms as one member of the staff tasked to the Byers case reviews with the team, including Dr. Sam Owens. The man sighs in worry, his elbow is propped up on the wooden conference table and he massages his temples worriedly as the slide changes. It's another map of Will's brain, but there is an extra flurry of activity that frightens them all.

"this is Will from last night. And as you can see, there are now abnormalities I'm the limbic and paralimbic areas. And this..."

The man grows increasingly unsettled, and with great reluctance he advances the slide. Aside from a few select spots on the brain, the picture is enveloped in red. The Brian is drowning in the virus and there is more red than black.

"is from an hour ago."

Not a soul in room remains still, every lab coat shuffles uncomfortably. And suddenly the papers in their hands have become overwhelming captivating. Attempting to hide his own discomfort, Owens turns to his team and gestures around the table.

"I don't hear any suggestions."

A colleague of his looks up from his papers, though his fingers still nervously fiddle with the edges of the files.

"We have bigger problems than the boy."

"Do we?" The man snaps.

"We can't keep delaying the burn." Another adds.

Agitated, Owens leans forward, his palm smacking the table.

"You're talking about putting... putting a Band-Aid on this." He stutters.

The first man speaks up.

"Right now, a Band-Aid is the best option."

"It's our only option."

Owens looks around the room aghast at his colleagues. They merely stared back, silently taking a stance.

"And if it kills the boy?" Owens spits.

"Then quite frankly, Sam, it kills him."

Owens stills in anger and disgust and jabs a finger in the man's direction.

"Say that to me again." He threatens.

The doctor that stands by the projector reluctantly speaks up.

"The rate this is spreading, he'll be lost by the end of the day. What we do or don't do won't change the outcome."

"We have to start the burn." The other states.

Owens takes one last look at his team, his eyes hold nothing but disgust. Huffing, he grabs his things from the table and jumps to his feet and storms for the door.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to think." He spits.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"What the hell is taking so long?" Joyce sighs.

She and Bob sit side by side to the right of Will's bedside. Her leg bounces up and down at an almost unnatural rate and she nervously wrings her hands.

"Hey," Bob assures. "doctors take forever, always. Just try and relax. Just be patient."

He reaches forward, briefly rubbing her knee in an attempt to soothe her nerves however he can. Taking his words to heart, Joyce takes a lingering breath and she tries to calm the storm of nerves in her stomach. But with every passing second, her nerves return. With every beep of the monitor is a harsh reminder than another second has passed.

Finally, she sighs as she shrugs the blanket off her shoulders.

"You know, I just..."

She slips through the door and marches to the end of the hall. The two guards stationed in from of the closed double doors tense as she approaches with no intention of stopping.

"Let me through. Let me through!" She orders, struggling against their arms.

"You know we can't do that."

"I need to talk to--"

"He'll be with you shortly."

"You said that an hour ago!"

Bob soon joins her side and attempts to calm her, and across the hall staring through the door is Will. He lays perfectly still on the bed, and the heart monitor starts to race beside him. With every beep of the monitor, his vision fluctuates. He is seeing but not with his own eyes, he is a passenger in his own body and yet all he can focus on is the gun holstered in the guard's belt.

《•••》

The figure, who had been properly equipped, aimed his device and a violent spurt of fire erupted from the end.

《•••》

Anger. That's all he can feel.

《•••》

The vines writhed and shrieked violently as they shriveled up.

《•••》

Will.

《•••》

Will convulsed uncontrollably, his limbs on fire, spreading as rapidly as the flames in the hub below.

《•••》

Will.

《•••》

He saw the visions. Like he was navigating the dark and cold tunnels, they never stopped moving and he knew they were out to kill.

•••

Will was panting heavily, but he slowly turned around coming face to face with the monster. It towered over the school, looking directly at Will.

《•••》

"Will?"

A warm hand touches his arm and he falls back to earth. The spike in his heart echoes in the room with the speedy beeps of the heart monitor. He hadn't registered that Mike had been speaking to him, trying to reach him. He looks to the boy who is watching him concerned.

"What's wrong? Are you hurting again?" Mike asks.

"Uh..."

Will tries desperately to speak but the things he wants to say don't come. Instead, he feels the undeniable urge to sit up. He does so, and more words come to his brain but they are not what he truly wants to say. There is a wild, demanding itch in his brain that he must extinguish.

"I saw something."

The itch subsides.

Unsuspecting, Mike listens intently with worry.

"In your now-memories?"

Against his better judgment - the small, dying voice in the corner of his brain that grows small and smaller yet - he continues to scratch the itch and he nods and leans closer.

"The shadow monster." He whispers. "I think I know how to stop him.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The sun has reached it's highest point when Dustin arrives at the familiar landscape of the old scrapyard, Steve by his side. He wears a proud grin as Steve gazes across the yard, nodding in agreement.

"Oh yeah. Yeah, this will do." Steve begins his descend down the small hill, shedding his sunglasses. "This will do just fine. Good call, dude."

His grin widens significantly, his chest welling in pride before he falls ik line with Steve. The two continue to sprinkle their bate trail behind them to the center of the yard. They dump the remanents of meat in a pile when they hear an approaching voice call out to them from the hill.

"I said medium-well!"

Dustin is relieved to see Lucas, he is beaming down at them as he sends them a wave. But his stomach plummets when he sees Max standing at his side. The two begin their descent down the hill and Steve wonders aloud.

"Who's that?"

He looks to Dustin when he doesn't answer, he sees the concerned and disbelieving glance he wears at the redhead. Suddenly, his mind clicks.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"You told her?" Dustin hisses.

Lucas and Dustin are huddled behind one of several abandoned vehicles exchanging hushed words. After proper introductions, Max and Steve have set to work and begun to build their base.

"So what?" Lucas says.

"'So what?'" Dustin laughs dryly.

"You wanted to tell her, too."

"But I didn't, all right? You know why?"

"You're chicken?" Lucas retorts.

Dustin rolls his eyes at Lucas's weak jab, and his anger only grows.

"Because not only does that put us, and Max for that matter, in danger, but Y/n especially! You know, my sister, the escaped experiment that the government lab could snatch up on any old whim? That sister?"

"They agreed to leave her alone, remember?"

"Like their word means shit! They faked Will's death to cover their own asses for fuck's sake. They don't exactly strike me as the caring, honorable type. Who's to say they won't ever change their minds and decide they want her back!"

Lucas shrinks back, regret flashes across his face as he takes in his words. He sighs.

"Look, I'm sorry about that, alright? I didn't think about it like that, but it's already done. And for what it's worth, I don't think she's gonna tell anyone."

"You don't know she won't tell, we just met her! What if she slips up? What if she's cornered and the information is forced out of her?"

It's Lucas's turn to roll his eyes, and he scoffs.

"Dude, you're spiraling. None of that's gonna happen."

Dustin sighs and shrugs his shoulders apathetically.

"Maybe I am and maybe it won't. The point is, we all agreed not to tell her and to look for Dart."

"Who you conveniently found."

"Are you suggesting that I'm lying?"

"I'm saying you have a creepy little bond with him."

"Yeah, that was before he turned into a Demogorgan."

"And you haven't heard from Y/n?"

Dustin's face scrunches up in anger at Lucas's mention of his sister.

"No."

"Or Mike?"

"No."

"Will?"

"No."

"Hopper?"

"No! No one is around. Why do you think I'm with Steve Harrington? Something's-"

"Wrong." Lucas finishes, sighing. "I agree. Which is why need as much help as we can get."

They both hear a soft grunt from across the yard and they rise to their feet and peek through the vacant window of the car. Max is piling several sheets of metal against the bus closing off weak spots underneath.

"She didn't believe me, anyway." Lucas says.

A small smirk forms on Dustin's face.

"You probably didn't tell it right."

They share a weak laugh and rise to face each other and Lucas extends his hand.

"So, we good?"

Dustin's eyes fall to his friend's hand and he smiles weakly.

"Hey!" A loud crash behind Dustin startles them and they turn to find Steve glaring at them."Dickheads! How come the only one helping me out is this random girl? We lose light in fourth minutes. Let's go."

They only stare at him as he retreats to the bus, reluctantly following. Steve gestures for them to move, his voice increasingly rising in anger.

"Let's go, I said!"

They pick up speed and each grumble a response.

"Alright, asshole!" Dustin snaps with a whine. "God!"

"Okay! Stupid."

+++

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pyrewriter · 4 years ago

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Ascension

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Ogethres had declared both my brother and I Vandals, allowing us to skip the rank of Wretch which was something most Eliksni could only dream of. Our allotted ether would be more than doubled, allowing us to grow marginally larger but our strength and status within the guild would increase greatly. Vandals were the lowest rank Eliksni that were granted enough ether for their bodies to grow it's sub arms which allowed for a wide range of increased capabilities. I would not be growing a pair of sub arms however. After the declaration Ogethres and Pyrrhaks had asked that Brykis and I join them in the Arkon's chambers.

There was something in Ogethres's eyes "Ellrymksyt, Pyrrhaks and I think it time you are told something" he let out a somehow self ashamed clicking as he spoke. "Do know why you different from others?" he asked hesitantly.

"I am not of Eliksni blood" I started with a blunt chattering, earning myself a surprised look from both my uncle Ogethres and father Pyrrhaks. My brother Brykis put a hand on my shoulder as I continued, "Yet, I stand as Vandal, son of Barron, I earn rank with brother, like all Eliksni".

Pyrrhaks looked us over "How-" he began to ask.

"Sekos-4" I answered knowing what father would ask next, "Ogethres my Arkon, you allowed me, keep data that intrigued, but serve no purpose to guild. Some, visual, moving pictures, learned from and put together, always knew was different, surprised at first". My gaze fell to my hands, they had five protrusions instead of the three of other Eliksni though I bound them together to make them three. I did not have stumps where my sub arms would grow on other Eliksni though my equipment still bore apertures where they would grow. I looked to my brother and met his eyes ,all of them, and he gave a supportive nod. I turned to my uncle and father "Body human,but mind, heart, people, Eliksni" I stated with a proud trill.

Brykis pulled us shoulder to shoulder "Since Sprog, has been Brother, told first and helped come to terms, Brothers, nothing change that". My brother spoke only the truth, I had told him that I doubted I was Eliksni after looking more and more into otherwise useless data I had kept from expeditions. I had my suspicions at the time that our father and uncle knew but was too scared to ask such a thing. After a while the problem I had made for myself simply dissolved itself as none within the guild had shown any form of discontent toward me and it did not appear to be forced. With no logical reason for my mind to dwell on the matter it faded and I fully intended to live as any other Eliksni regardless of whether or not the matter came up.

Ogethres and Pyrrhaks were silent but they had a relieved and proud glow in their eyes, then ,for the first time in memory, they wrapped around us in an embrace. We stayed enthralled in the moment of that embrace for a long time, it felt like it was something that they had wanted to do for years and this was their way of making up for lost time. When they finally released us they regained their composure and our father spoke first, "There something else, want to tell, congratulatory honors". Pyrrhaks looked to our uncle and Arkon as though turning over his right to speak.

"As Arkon I grant special privilege, Brykis, Ellrimksyt, may forge own armor, use skills, craft master pieces, modify as you see fit" Ogethres told us. To be granted forge rights is an honor coveted by all but granted to only those who have proven themselves among the greatest the granting Arkon or Kell has seen. Brykis and myself bent the knee and bowed our heads, thanking him for being so gracious, though he was our uncle and Pyrrhaks our father they were still our superiors. Ogethres chittered in a chuckling manner, "Rise honored sons of Barron Pyrrhaks, go, craft that which you earn, return when complete, your ascension will be grand".My brother and I rose and bowed our heads once more before leaving the Arkon's chambers together. Before one was truly a Vandal they first had to molt and grow their sub arms then they would be fitted into their new gear.

Brykis was first and I stayed with him as he molted and grew which gave me time to think about my lack of sub arms. Molting was a lengthy, draining, and sometimes painful process if unassisted. As for my lack of extra arms it would be of no matter, trivial and not a factor from day to day and minor hindrance at the worst of times. I was next and though I did not molt like my brother I did go through immense pain as the increase in ether intake forced my body to grow at an accelerated rate. My bones grew first, I could feel them becoming denser while they expanded in length and width as they forced their way through obstructing muscle, stretching connective sinew. Said muscle grew quickly to compensate for my body's increasing skeletal structure but it could not quite match the rate which often resulted in tears. Were it not for the constant flow of ether to fuel these changes any Eliksni would die or at the very least lose consciousness but with the flow we remain conscious. All together it took both of us five days to achieve forms worthy of being called Vandals and another two days of rest before either of us could move.

When we could move and were able to use our new bodies we walked straight to the forges to begin our work. A Forge Captains greeted us "Brykis and Ellrimksyt, we were expecting, enter, you granted forge rights, we assist if needed" she explained as she guided us to what would be our work areas. She did not wear standard Captains attire, there was little plating, she had tools hanging from various sashes and belts, bandages covered her arms and legs. We bowed our heads in thanks, "No need for thanks, you two, done much for forge, you earn forge rights" she told us before bowing her head to us and returning to work.

The forges were sweltering, and rank with the thick choking fumes of smelting, the sound of hammers clanging followed by the gurgling of quenching surrounded us. Ogethres had warned us ahead of time and we had entered with only our leggings on but the heat as we worked was nonetheless immense. Most was as simple as making minor size or shape adjustments like the grieves, gauntlets, and pauldron but they still remained of Eliksni design. I was forced to forgo much of the standard Eliksni design as run of the mill Vandal equipment ,though reliable, would not fit a human properly. But I planned to use our forge rights to their fullest when creating my armor and helping Brykis with his.

Neither the standard House Dusk breastplate that rested on the shoulders nor the large cuisse that was bound to and protected the upper part of the legs were worth trying to modify. Instead I salvaged an old House Winter Vandal plate as it would offer greater protection and would be simpler to modify than starting from scratch. As for upper leg protection I created a short set of tassets rather than using a single large solid plate to grant me greater mobility without sacrificing protection. Brykis had run into the same similar problem of finding House Dusk armor lacking or uncomfortable early on as well. Because of this the two of us decided to create matching sets with the main difference ,for the sake of knowing who's set was who's, we used an old House King Vandal plate.

To forge, fit, and finalize our armor with the ether life support was time consuming but retrofitting the consolidated system into old housing was easy, though it left empty space. Rather than further modifying what we had we simply left them hollow, making our Vandal's plate lighter. It was not until we were satisfied with our work and the Forge Captains appraised and approved our work that we left the forges days later. "Work exquisite, master pieces two of a kind, will serve well, go now, will notify Arkon and your Captain" the same Forge Captain that greeted us said, shooing us out almost excited.

Naturally our new ,not to mention unique, equipment garnered stares from those around us as we made our way to the Arkon Chambers. Both our father and uncle met us half way and picked us up in an embrace as their greeting. "Brykis, Ellrimksyt, have not seen in days, heard finished, came to see, armor looks good" Ogethres chortled, giving us pats on the chest as he put us down. "Ready?" he asked with an anticipating tone, my brother and I looked to each other then to Pyrrhaks and finally Ogethres and nodded. With a wave of one of his sub arms he motioned for us all to follow. Together the four of us walked back to the Ceremony hall where our ascension to Vandals and Barron would be completed.

The sight of the guild Arkon moving outside of his chambers to anywhere other than his workshop was enough to signal anyone who saw to head for the ceremony hall. Usually word spread throughout the guild and within only a few minutes the guild would be gathered in the hall for whatever was happening. But it was a short distance from the forges to the hall so not many saw. "All, gather in Ceremony Hall, this day we honor newest Vandals and Barron" the voice of our uncle and Arkon resonated within the hall itself and undoubtedly through the guild. Minutes later the hall was once again packed wall to wall with everyone not out on mission.

The lights pinned into the walls faded until the hall was draped in darkness until ceremonial torches were lit, providing a dim glow. Servitors floated in from the entrance, their purple aura serving to further illuminate the hall and add the reflections off the armor of those below to create a dazzling display above. Then as the servitors hovered high Ogethres began the ceremony, "Today two become VANDAL, one becomes BARRON" he bellowed with pride. "Pyrrhaks my Barron, you bring greatness, your sons, Brykis, Ellrimksyt, bare armor made with forge rights, earned by your feats, become Vandals". At his words the servitors doting the ceiling moved aside to allow only one to float to us with a Captain's helm flanked by a Vandal's on each side caught in it's kinetic grasp.

Immediately I recognized the servitor, it was Sekos-4, there was no mistaking it and why would it be any other. As Sekos reached us we took the helms now ours, Pyrrhaks taking his first, then Brykis, then myself and together the three of us donned the helms that etch our ascension in history. Dregs, Wretches, Vandals, Captain, and Barrons threw their fists in the air with a thunderous roar of celebration. The Dregs, Wretches and a fair number of Vandals chanting "Ellrimksyt, Brykis" with revelry in their words. The rest chanted "Pyrrhaks, Barron of ace sons" to praise him for his accomplishments and those he had raised with him.

The celebration was tragically short lived however as every servitor snapped it's attention to the entrance to the ceremony hall. Their ominously aggressive noises indicated a proximity alarm had been tripped inside the compound.

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#destiny #eliksni #fallen #fanfic #eliksni fanfic #Ellrimksyt #Chapter 2

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hannahmcne · 5 years ago

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Her Royal Highness - Chapter 29

Back at the castle, Belle was waiting for them in the garage. When they opened the door and waved goodbye to Stewart inside his limo as he pulled away, she looked up with a frown and a stern expression. Ben gulped and froze under his mother's gaze as everyone paused behind him. Mal felt ice creep into her spine.

Belle scraped something black from underneath her nails. "I thought you would be back yesterday," She said primly. Her lips pressed into a thin line. "The Fairy Godmother called to say the barrier over the Isle of the Lost had been broken, Peter Pan appeared from Neverland for the first time in almost forty years to take the Jolly Roger back to Neverland, Aurora has called nineteen times to ask if Audrey has returned, and a dragon was visible over the Isle from Auradon. All I can say is that your excuse had better be good." Belle folded her hands in her lap and pinched her lips as she cast her eyes about the group.

Mal shuffled forward. Belle's eyes fell on Malice and her mouth formed a little: 'O'. She looked up at Mal in wonder. "Did you bring me a grandchild?" She asked. Ben stepped forward to support Mal as his wife's eyes grew large.

"No!" Mal hurried. "This is, um, my little sister. She's brand-new, and my mom is in this bag right here." Mal held up the drawstring bag that they'd put Lizard Maleficent in. "Ben was captured by Gaston and Dr. Facilier on the island." She explained. "They wanted the Fairy Godmother's wand to bring down the barrier, I made a deal with them and brought it down from the inside by myself because I was stupid enough to think I'd be able to be faster than everyone else on the ship, and then mom turned into a dragon and we all almost died."

"I see," Belle replied in a flat tone. Her eyes flickered down to Malice in Mal's arms. "Where's Audrey?"

"She asked to stay another night," Mal explained.

Belle examined each of the young adults. She held out her arms. "I'll forgive you all if you give me the baby." She decided. "What's her name?"

"Malice, but I think she needs a new one," Mal explained as she walked forward and carefully put the baby in Belle's arms. Belle's entire face lit up as she studied the girl's tiny hands and mouth.

"She's so cute!" Belle squealed softly. She wrapped the baby in her arms expertly and began to walk away.

"Wait, where are you going with her?" Mal asked as she followed Belle out of the garage. Everyone trailed along behind her.

"I'm going to introduce her to Adam and we are going to be her foster parents." Belle decided. Ben's face wrinkled up a little in disappointment and offense.

Mal blinked. "Um, just like that?" She asked.

"We'll file some paperwork to adopt her and name her," Belle said passively. "You're queen anyway. This way, I'm not bored, and I get another child, which is something I always wanted."

Mal stopped in the hallway and Ben bumped into her before he put an arm around her shoulder. "You wanted more kids?" She asked.

"Yes." Belle nodded. "But we didn't for a variety of reasons. For one, most royals generally only have one child so there's no power struggle if the younger ones want the throne. Also, being queen was pretty tough, as I'm sure you know. Even with Adam as my partner, there wasn't a lot of time. But now I'm old and I will adopt this small child and she will be happy with us." Belle slipped through a door into the main palace sector.

Mal rubbed her hands over her arms, which were now covered in goosebumps. She looked up at Ben, who seemed to understand with only a glance. He reached forward and grabbed his mom's arm.

"Hey, Mom?" He asked. "I get this is your dream, but this is also Mal's sister. I, for one, would like to consider adopting her myself. Can she and I have a conversation about it before you make any decisions?"

"Okay." Belle wilted a little but smiled still when she looked down at the child. "You still need to see your father, young man. He's up in your office finishing up things for you."

Ben tensed up like a live wire. "Finishing things for me?" He repeated tersely.

Belle raised her eyebrows. "Is that a problem?" She wondered.

"Can I have her back…?" Mal asked hesitantly. She looked a little tense, even though Belle clearly had experience with small children and Malice was still fast asleep against her chest. Ben took a deep breath beside her.

Belle carefully put Malice back in Mal's grasp, even though she looked sad to see the girl go back to her sister. Mal sighed in soft relief as soon as she had the girl back in her arms. "Thank you." She told Belle, carefully nuzzling Malice's cheek. Belle smiled and clasped her hands together.

"Yes, alright." She smiled. "Let's go see Adam then." Belle began to lead the group up the stairs. Jay, Evie, and Carlos slipped around Ben and Mal as they inched closer together. Belle waited at the end of the hallway, but Ben waved her ahead. "We'll catch up." He promised, though he still looked anxious about his dad being in his office.

The group disappeared.

Mal turned towards Ben with a gentle exhale as she held Malice right up next to her shoulders. "I'm sorry." She whispered. "I love your mom. I just… never had a sister before. I wasn't expecting her to walk off with her so soon."

"It's okay," Ben whispered. He put his arm around Mal and curled her up to his side. "I panicked when she started walking away too." He watched as she wrapped her arms tightly around the baby and as she smiled and relaxed under his grasp. "You're pretty amazing, you know?" He whispered. "Just today, you were holding on to a ship with your knees, throwing swords to cut us free from the dock, healing your worst enemy, and now you're sitting here, blown away by the idea of a sister."

Mal leaned her head against Ben's chest. "What would have happened to her if she'd stayed with mom?" She whispered. "Or if I'd never become queen at all, and you'd only have made me a puppet queen without any sway at all?"

Ben bit his lip. "I read your blessing a few months ago." He whispered. "And there was a line that… I couldn't make sense of at the time." He brought his hand up from her shoulder and ran his fingers through his hair. "'Your strong relationship with your husband will one day be your greatest achievement. Your fondest memories will be forged with your new family in Auradon.' And, I thought, will I still be that husband for her? She might marry some other guy once the curse is broken. And this family, is it talking about me and my parents? Or is there any small chance that one day, she and I-" Ben turned and looked into Mal's eyes as she looked up. Her cheeks turned a dusty pink.

"We have time. But the point of this pep talk was that you have a family. You've forged your own family here. Evie, and Jay, and Carlos, wherever they go, will always be your family. Mom and Dad are parents to you too. I am meant to be more than a puppet ruler over the moors and the Isle. I'm here for a confident, a supporter, a partner. And now, you have your sister. You're not going to lose her. Whether you let Mom and Dad adopt her or whether you keep her with you and bring her back and forth to the moors and to the Isle, she will always be your sister. Okay?" Ben finished his speech.

Mal chuckled. "You're a little too over-the-top." She told him, then sighed. "I know." She sighed. "I think I'll ask Belle if she'd like to adopt her. She can be raised a princess of Auradon, and hopefully, I can pick up on how Belle parents, so I don't have to figure everything out by myself if we ever have a kid."

"If?" Ben asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Give me some time." She rolled her eyes and then paused. "Unless you plan on leaving me?" Mal asked. She gave him a nervous smile.

Ben wrapped his arm around her tightly and kissed the top of her head. "Never." He promised her.

Mal laughed, closing her eyes against his chest and burying her face in his chest. "Ben... I meant what I said on the Isle."

Ben loosened his grip and began to trace little circles on her arm. "On the ship, or on the beach?" He asked for clarification.

"On the beach," Mal clarified. "Right before we went into the city." She put her hand on his knee. "I think I'm ready for you, now."

Ben moved his other hand to be on top of hers and hummed in thought. "I don't know if that's something we should be doing without protection if you don't think you're ready for kids. We've got to take this one step at a time."

Mal hummed in neither agreement or disagreement as he rubbed the knuckles in her hands a little. She watched as he lifted her hand up in his palm, brought it to his mouth, and kissed the back of it before standing up and helping her to her feet. "Now, let's catch up." He mumbled against her hair. They both turned and continued following Belle's group up to Ben's office.

________________________________________________________________

Ben's desk was messier than it had been before he'd left, even though Adam had only gone through completing paperwork and filing things as they came in. Several things he needed to sign and approve were stacked in a heap beside the keyboard and Adam had continued pulling pens out of Ben's mug without putting them back until most of them were scattered in between stacked papers and hidden beside notepads and the mug was only half-filled. Mal walked in first, then turned to watch Ben's lips pinch together in disappointment as he took in the rest of the mess. Adam was sitting in Ben's chair, and Belle was standing beside him. Mal's friends had all taken seats along the outside of the room and looked to be trying hard to stay awake.

Adam turned to greet the two as they walked in and his mouth fell open at the sight of Malice in her older sister's arms. "Wha- how?" He sputtered.

Ben made a thumb to one of the chairs alongside the room, looking a little white. "Nice to see you too, Dad. Can you please get out of my chair?"

Adam stood up slowly and, instead of taking a different chair, leaned forward to gape at Malice. "Where'd she come from?" He demanded.

"This is Malice, my little sister," Mal explained slowly, stepping forward a little so that Adam could see the tell-tale purple hair spilling out from around the girl's head. "She's a daughter of Maleficent and Jafar. And, uh, my mom is in the bag on my arm, in lizard form." She tried to move her arm so that Adam could see the bag without jostling Malice.

"Sister," Adam repeated, craning his head to look at the bag on Mal's arm. "Oh, I-I see." He ran a hand down his face and stepped out from behind Ben's desk, giving Ben enough space to step in and began sweeping things into neater piles. He slipped all the forms Adam had left out for him into the second drawer in his desk for the next day and began gathering pens. Already, his space looked more... him. "I was trying to figure out... I mean, she looked just like you when you walked in and you were holding her..."

"I'm not her mom," Mal shook her head with pink cheeks. "Malice, my sister."

"I want to adopt her," Belle announced to Adam. "I always wanted a girl. She can grow up with us and that way we'll have a daughter and a daughter-in-law from the same family."

"Belle, we haven't had a baby in twenty-two years." Adam reminded her, blinking and looking very shell-shocked by the entire experience.

"Well, eighteen, really," Belle hummed, leaning over to ruffle Ben's hair as he continued pulling sticky notes with detailed accounts of phone calls that had come in throughout the day off of his desk and putting them underneath his screen. Ben made a face and ducked away from her touch a little as he capped a highlighter that had been left to dry out and dropped it into his trash can. "But really, Ben's always going to be my baby."

"Thanks, mom," Ben sighed. He pushed his chair out and bent down to make sure there wasn't anything under his desk.

Adam watched his son feel around underneath the desk. "Now, really, Ben. Don't you think that's a bit excessive?"

Ben came back up with five different papers crumpled in his hands and quickly smoothed them out to examine them before dropping them into the trash. "I can't leave my kingdom with anyone," He sighed. "How did you make such a mess in one day, Dad?"

"Some of it was already here," Adam began, but Ben looked up with a raised eyebrow and the former king gave up on his excuse before it was fully formed. He turned back to Belle instead. "So, you want to adopt the other daughter of Maleficent?" He asked. Mal wrinkled her nose in hurt. The other daughter of Maleficent sounded like a particularly unfavorable title; as if the first had been a torturous experience. Ben, too, balked at the description and Evie, Jay, and Carlos all blinked in surprise.

Belle observed the reaction with tight lips and then corrected her husband: "Mal's sister, dear. Just say 'Mal's sister' next time. And yes, I want to adopt her."

Adam glanced to Mal. "Is that okay with you?" He asked.

Mal swallowed with her arms tight around Malice. "I... I think so. I mean, you guys did great with Ben, so I'd trust you with her."

Adam laughed, loud and boisterous, as Ben rolled his eyes and turned his attention to his desktop, where dozens of tabs and applications were open. "Dad, you don't need five different streaming services open at once," Ben sighed as he began to click through the various pages.

"So, the daughter of Maleficent and Jafar?" Adam asked, stepping forward and putting a hand on Mal's shoulder. Mal nodded cautiously, and then Adam pointed across the room to Jay. "Aren't you the son of Jafar? And you're older than Mal, so shouldn't you get the first say what happens to your little sister?"

Jay looked like he'd swallowed a jar of hot coals. "Um, I don't know anything about kids." He gasped and hurried to find an excuse. "And Mal's queen and she probably needs the prac- I mean- no, I don't want to raise her. I'd be happy to just see her from time to time."

Adam nodded in understanding and then put his hand on Malice's head. "Are you sure that you wouldn't want to raise her, Mal?" He asked, meeting his daughter-in-law's eyes. "Ben's children have priority over the throne of Auradon and he's supposed to sire an heir, but she could still be a Princess of the Moorlands or of the Isle."

The room felt incredibly tense. Mal could feel something in the air as physical as if it were freezing on her skin like Isle air. Two countries were directly depending on her, and giving Malice up would mean she was holding out on them for an heir to their lands. Assuming, of course, the Isle stayed an inherited monarchy. Still, something in her gut told her that it wasn't right to try and take this on quite yet.

"I don't think I'm ready for children yet," Mal mumbled, looking past Adam and at Ben. "I mean, I don't know about Ben, but that's-" She heaved a sigh, "a huge responsibility I don't quite have the time or the preparation for yet."

Adam turned around to his son, whose expression was mostly masked. "What do you say, Ben?" He asked.

Ben held up his hands in defense. "This is Mal's decision," He rebutted. "I don't get a say in her sister and her two kingdoms. This is all on her and I will support her either way. Whether Malice gets a place as my sister or my daughter, I am going to stand with her every step of the way."

"Do you want to raise her?" Mal asked, shifting her weight from foot to foot anxiously.

Ben let a dreamy little smile slip onto his face as he stared at Malice. "I'd be more than happy to." He admitted. "She's a great little girl. A little you. I'd love to raise her. But I'd also love to just watch her grow and it's more important to me that you're comfortable with your choice." He put his hands into his pockets. "I'm ready for kids when you are, but if you're not, then I don't want them. You make your decision, and your decision will be mine."

Mal nodded and closed her eyes, exhaling. "I... don't think I'm ready yet," She decided. "I think it's probably better to give her to someone else." She loosened her arms and Adam held his hands out to take the small child from her. She forced herself to let the small child go and, with her, felt a weight lift from her shoulders. Adam balanced Malice carefully in his hands and Belle stepped forward to loop her arm through his and peer down at her new baby girl. Ben's sister.

Mal chewed on her lower lip anxiously and glanced at Ben, standing behind his desk. He held out an arm for her. "Come here, you," he laughed. Mal hesitantly slipped around her mother and father-in-law and underneath his arm as he curled it around her side.

"Are you disappointed?" She mumbled, watching Belle smile and examine Malice's features. Ben laughed.

"Do you really think I'd give that whole speech and then be disappointed you didn't give me parental rights over your sister?" He rolled his eyes. "No, no, I'm proud of you. Good job. And you know, when the time is right for you, it'll be right for me too. Okay?"

Mal nodded in agreement, and Ben uncurled his arm from around her. "Now," he began, taking a deep breath, "Dad, where did you go in my office?"

Adam chuckled. "I think you got all of the mess, son." He told Ben. "I was mostly taking calls and sorting through things that came in."

"No, where did you go?" Ben repeated firmly. "I need to know every cabinet you opened." The specific, brutal tone of his voice conveyed exactly how important it was. Adam's smile faded a little.

"I opened your top desk drawer and the last one looking for some cords," Adam began, walking over to gesture to the drawers. "Then, I opened all the drawers in your filing cabinet there while I was sorting things, and then that closet beside the door." He nodded to each place as he spoke.

Ben's mouth pressed into a thin line. He strode over to the cabinet and opened it before gesturing to his dad to come over. Adam frowned. "I was only grabbing extra paper and paperclips. And I opened that little drawer for index cards."

"Nothing else?" Ben prompted.

"What is this about?" Adam frowned. "Is there something I was supposed to be avoiding?"

"Nothing else?" Ben repeated, voice growing even firmer than before.

"Nothing," Adam agreed. Ben shut the cabinet, relaxing with a small sigh.

"Ben?" Belle asked, furrowing her brow. "Is there something you need to tell us?"

"No," Ben shook his head. "Nothing I can tell you. I have-" he paused, unzipping his Isle jacket and peeling it off his arms to hang up on a hook beside the door, "National Secrets in that cupboard. Things I'm going to be moving, now." He went to his desk and found a ring of keys in the topmost drawer.

"Well, it's nothing I haven't seen before," Adam shrugged. "The country hasn't changed much in the last year."

"Yes, it has," Ben disagreed, flipping through keys and then walking back to the cupboard to lock it. "And those things are mine, for my eyes only until they're done."

"What about Mal?" Carlos asked, furrowing his brow in confusion.

Mal shook her head before Ben could answer. "No," She sighed dramatically. "Ben's 'National Security' is for leaders of Auradon. I'm not a leader, even though I'm Queen. So Ben's new laws aren't for my eyes."

"New laws?" Adam asked, glancing at Ben, who sent a grave look to Mal, indicating he wished she hadn't listed any specifics.

"Things I'm fixing," Ben admitted. "Things I'm making better. Old classified files that I'm considering releasing, new things that are going on around the country, and especially things going on in international territories."

Adam's brow knit tighter and tighter together as Ben listed some vague specifics, and then turned to put Malice in Belle's arms. Belle took her carefully, looking a bit hurt by Ben's overly direct tone. "Fixing?" Adam asked. "Making better?"

Mal watched Ben swallow and take a deep breath, and stood up a little straighter behind the desk. "It's not for you to know yet," Ben reminded his dad. "This is for me and a few distant advisors. When I tell the kingdom, I'll tell you beforehand."

"You're changing the laws on magic!" Adam accused, face growing red. "Aren't you?"

Mal blinked in surprise at the sudden accusation. She knew Ben was planning on drawing new borders with the Isle of the Lost - that was the paper he'd shown her at the table about a week ago - but removing the laws against magic was mostly her dream that Ben supported. She stared at him in surprise and watched his ears turn a little pink. "No!" He sputtered, then flinched. "Well, I'm... considering things, but - come on, dad, you know they're not right!"

"How long has this been going on?" Adam demanded, curling his hands into fists. "Don't you remember our tale? Our entire castle was cursed for ten years by an enchantress. Do you want to open our lands up to that again?"

"It's only been going for... It's not even really going... It's-" Ben trailed off, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes. Mal moved out from behind the desk and went to stand beside him, putting her hands in her pockets until she was at his side. Then she held out a hand and he took it with a steady breath. "I've never liked them," Ben admitted. "Even when I was younger. I think you were wrong to instigate them. I've been researching for months and talking with dozens of different people and you've severely damaged our magical communities and hurt international relations with these laws. That's the real reason Elsa wanted to come down to the palace. They have to go in one form or another. Your tale happened because you were acting cruelly. You blamed magic, and that's wrong. So yes, that's one of the things in there. You may not know the rest."

"How could you keep this from us?" Belle frowned, sticking her lip out a small fraction. "We put those laws up; we could advise you on-"

"It's not your place," Ben repeated. "You put up the laws - I know you would be unfairly biased against the changes. There's a reason I haven't consulted Mal much either - she's unfairly biased towards the changes. The fact is, though, that I'm looking at the bigger picture, and I'm going to keep trying to make Auradon better." He exhaled and shook his head to clear it. "I won't say another word on it, though. All you need to know is that the things in that cupboard are for my eyes only. Thank you for looking after my kingdom today, dad, but we did more than just change crowns. This isn't the same Auradon you ruled over, and it's my place alone to lead them. Not Mom's, not yours, not even Mal's." He squeezed Mal's hand tightly.

Adam looked like he was about to explode and Belle looked very unsure of the situation. She chewed on her cheek as her eyes flitted back and forth between Ben and Mal. "Are you sure you're actually thinking about the kingdom, and not just about, well..." She trailed off.

Ben cocked his head to the side. "The fact my wife is a magical person herself?" He asked. Belle hesitated and nodded slowly. Ben shook his head. "I had ideas to fix these laws back when I was ten - long before Mal came into the picture. And yes, I'll have to work with her to make sure that we draft laws where magicals can't go around punishing people for small things, but this is something important that has to change. By the way," He turned to Mal. "I need your help on a few things that you won't be able to talk about with other people, regarding magic in Auradon."

"You'll consult Mal and not us?" Adam demanded. "You just said she was a biased source! We're your parents, Ben."

Ben stared at his dad and then put his other hand atop Mal's. "Mal is my wife," He reminded them in a slow tone. "She and I are partners. And she's the Queen of the Moorlands. She's had practice working with spells and looking for spell loopholes. I'm not going to let her help me draft laws, but I'm sure as heck going to make sure there aren't any magic loopholes people can jump through. Why wouldn't I consult her on that?"

"But why not us?" Belle frowned. "We're all family here, Ben."

Ben shook his head. "Family is important, and I love you guys a lot, but again, Mal is my wife. Dad, you can't honestly look me in the eyes and tell me you that I'm equal to mom in your sight, can you? Sure, I know you love me, but she's your partner, and Mal is mine. We're all family, but she's also my future."

Silence hung in the air. Belle's eyes were filling with shocked tears. Mal kept her palm tightly in Ben's, reeling over what she'd just heard. She could be mistaken, but she was pretty sure Ben had just told his parents that he loved her more than them. In nicer terms, of course, but there was only so many ways you could spin 'she's also my future'. Also, as in 'Mom, Dad, you don't fit into this category anymore.'

Ben held the keys aloft. "This stays locked," He announced. "I will arrest anyone who tries to sneak in and read stuff, before or after I move it all." He paused to let go of Mal's hand and run his fingertips down her jaw. His touch was soft above her neck. "Even you," he clarified with a little laugh. Mal let a little smile ghost onto her face and then stared silently at the floor, refusing to meet her in-law's faces. Ben returned the keys to his desk and then opened the door for everyone to filter out. "Come on," he commanded. "It's time for this day to be over."

________________________________________________________________

Later that night, Mal and Sophia sat on the floor, fiddling with the glass terrarium Sophia had found from back in Ben's childhood when he'd had a gecko. It had died of old age and natural causes. As Mal fiddled with the lightbulb that would keep her cold-blooded mom warm, Ben paced behind them and brushed his teeth. Both he and Mal were already dressed in their pajamas. When the bright light flickered to life, Sophia and Mal let out a little cheer.

"What's been going on with you and Stewart?" Mal asked as she fiddled with attaching the light to the terrarium.

"I met his parents," Sophia admitted with a blush. "They're super sweet. I dropped sugar in his dad's lap when I was walking with it back to the kitchen, and they made jokes about it for the rest of the evening. They're calling me 'sugar-stopper'."

Mal giggled. "Good thing Belle and Adam didn't do that to me. "I'd be called 'glitter-bomb', or 'dust-buster'."

Ben almost spit out a mouthful of foamy toothpaste as he choked back a laugh behind them and hurried back to the bathroom as Sophia and Mal laughed together.

They laughed and put the terrarium on a side table where Maleficent would have a view of the whole room. Mal picked up the bag where Maleficent had been put for the day, and carefully overturned it. She picked her mom up around the lizard's belly and put her in the terrarium. Maleficent trudged slowly over to the heat lamp, and sat down, shivering. Mal frowned. Maleficent didn't seem to look that good.

"I'm going to take my leave now, Mal." Sophia smiled as she gathered up the terrarium packaging and tucked it under her arm. The two girls exchanged a quick hug.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Sophia!" Mal said as she showed her to the door.

"Yes, assuming you don't leave straightaway!" Sophia laughed as she opened the door with her foot.

"I won't," Mal promised through her giggles. "Now, goodnight!"

"Goodnight!" Sophia called as the door swung closed between them.

Mal let her hand rest on the door for a few seconds as a soft smile spread across her face. She reached down and clicked the lock shut before she turned around and examined the room. Mal checked the lid on the terrarium and wandered into the bathroom. She brushed her teeth and used the bathroom before she went into the bedroom. Ben was awake and scrolling through his phone with the covers over his legs. "It's so nice to be home." He sighed without looking up.

Mal giggled. "Aw, so you didn't like sleeping tied to the ship?" Mal chuckled.

Ben shook his head. "No thank you." He said with a laugh, then held his phone out to her. She leaned over and skimmed the screen. A new post of the palace website under his name: "Some people think their mother-in-laws are overbearing and misinformed. Mine, however, is a literal dragon to deal with."

Mal laughed at the joke and watched him roll his eyes and pull his phone back to himself. He continued scrolling, catching up on the news he'd missed out on the day before. Mal went to him and climbed into bed at his side. She wrapped her arm through his and used it to pull herself closer to him as he chuckled and turned off his phone. She hugged her chest to his biceps so it was harder for him to move as he flipped out the light and then turned to face her.

"You're needy." He told her as he pulled his arm out of her grasp and instead wrapped his arms around her like he was a large, warm, sweat-scented blanket. She sank into his warm grip with a contented sigh as one of his hands began to trace a gentle pattern on her back. A hot, burning feeling was growing in her stomach.

"I want you." She whispered, tracing a finger down his collarbone. "Do you want me, now?" She shivered as his movements against her grew precise and careful.

There was a full moon outside, so light filtered in through the closed window. She could see the gentle smirk that pulled at Ben's lips. "Yes," He admitted. "I do want you." He cupped his hands at her hips, pulling her even closer to him. He tilted his head to steal a kiss that made her entire body feel hot and stared into her eyes through the darkness. "But we don't need to rush." He warned.

"It's almost been a year," Mal whispered, moving her mouth close to his ear, pulling the collar of his shirt down a bit further and exposing more skin. She could feel his breath, hot on her neck. She carefully bit at his ear lobe. Ben took a little fistful of the back of her shirt in response, then released her. "If anything, we've been putting this off."

"You're still-" Ben started, relaxing under her grip as she spoke.

"Young." Mal interrupted. "But I'm not a child. You're not going to break me. And there have been girls younger than me who were with their husbands. Snow White, Aurora, Ariel, Mulan, Jasmine, I could go on."

Ben's eyes sparkled. "No need." He assured her, leaning forward, and placing the softest of kisses on her nose. "You know that I want you - that I need you. It's all up to you."

Mal smiled and pulled herself on top of him. "That's all the permission I need." She laughed. She used the hem of her shirt to pull the fabric up and off her head as she pinned his legs down with hers and immediately started searching for the hem of his. Ben rolled his eyes as he sat up. He pulled her face forward to kiss her as the moon cast light down on them, and the night continued around them.

________________________________________________________________

It was a different sort of responsibility, what followed. For Ben especially, he felt a heavy feeling of obligation fall onto his shoulders when he watched Mal move to his frame under the moonlight. When she was trying and failing to keep quiet. When the first tears came and dried and she was okay. When she was gasping and doing her best to not turn his back into a field of red, raised rows with her nails. He had her now, and she him. He had her hand first, and then her heart, and finally, she was trusting him with something she'd never trusted anyone with - herself.

Early the next morning, Mal was in her office, creating a new type of form that anyone left on the rotten part of the Isle would have to fill out and submit before they'd be allowed a trial to get into the city. As she spaced bars and lines on the page to her liking, she heard a knock at the door. She looked up and smiled when she saw Ben. "Hey, babe." She smiled as she set her forearms down on the desk to smile at him. Ben was wearing a brown, close-knit vest over a pale blue shirt, which Mal couldn't decide if it was a step-up from his sexy Isle attire or a step-down. He was holding a glass bowl of strawberries.

"Hey." Ben smiled and flushed a little at her pet name. "I brought you strawberries and wanted to make sure you were good." He presented the bowl in a half-toasting manner, and a half-sacrificing manner.

Mal rolled her eyes. "I'm fine, silly. I will say yes to strawberries though." She smiled as he brought the small bowl forward and snatched a red fruit off the top.

"I just want to make sure I didn't, like, break you or anything," Ben explained as he took a seat on the edge of the desk.

Mal rolled her eyes. "I think you give yourself entirely too much credit." She told him. She had come to the conclusion, however correct or incorrect, that the only way he'd ever break her was if he left her.

"Whatever." Ben chuckled, folding his hands in his lap and smiling.

"Want to see what I'm working on?" Mal asked. She turned the screen towards him as he leaned back to catch a glimpse of the on-screen contents. "I was thinking for, you know, other kids the villains end up having, people who decide to change their minds, that sort of thing." Mal shrugged.

Ben's expression flatlined. "Oh, crap." He said. "I forgot that Doug needed me to fill out something in my office. Crap!"

Mal blinked. "Wasn't he here last night?" She asked.

"Yeah." Ben nodded. "He asked if I could get it to him by ten a.m, and that is in… thirty-four minutes." Ben jumped off the desk while looking frantically at his watch.

"Bye?" Mal asked with a sarcastic smile as he set one foot over the threshold.

"Oh!" Ben narrowly avoided skidding out into the hallway from his momentum, spun around, and hurried back to her. He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and said: "Bye Mal." Then he hurried and sprinted down the hall. Mal chuckled to herself and continued work.

About a half-hour later, as she was finishing up, she heard heels clicking down the hallway outside her office. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of blue appear.

"M?" Evie called from the doorway.

"One moment, please, Evie," Mal begged as she saved her work and waited for the change to back up. There was a soft thud. Mal glanced up and saw a dark blue duffel bag – the same one Evie had come to Auradon with – at Evie's feet.

Evie shifted her weight from foot-to-foot as she began to tear up. "M…" Evie started. Her voice broke. Mal felt her chest go a little numb in shock. She stood up from her wheelie chair and offered the vacant seat to Evie. Evie sat down with a hiccup, and Mal gave her old friend a hug from behind.

"Auradon Accelerated?" Mal asked, feeling a lump enter her throat.

Evie nodded. "I'm sorry." Her voice shook as she began to wipe pearlescent tears from her eyes.

"Sorry for what?" Mal asked, though she, too, felt sorry. After all, it was her fault everything was so different. It was forever impossible to go back to the way things were.

"I'm leaving," Evie explained. "I don't feel like I belong here in the castle, especially with you and Ben. I thought I wanted something like this, but I hate the huge hallways and the empty rooms. I wanted to save you from Ben when I first came, and that idea has completely fizzled out. I don't know what to do with myself. I sit around all day and make clothes." Evie threw her hands into the air in exasperation. "I have no idea what I want!" She exclaimed. "I'm just… hoping I can find a purpose away from the past." She rolled her shoulders forward and slumped over in defeat.

Mal nodded. "I understand," She whispered. "You're one of my best friends and I want you to find out who you are. You don't have to worry about me." Mal squeezed Evie from behind. "We're a family. We may go different ways, but in the end, we always come back. We can do this. You can do this."

Evie twiddled her thumbs. "Ben mentioned once that you wrote a letter to someone on the Isle which was never sent." She sniffled. "He thought it was for us."

Mal blinked. She was surprised Ben had remembered that letter. She'd honestly forgotten it.

"It was," She confirmed slowly, trying to retrace her steps to remember where she'd put it. "I taped it to the bottom of my desk in my old room. I don't think it was ever moved. Do you want to read it?" After several long seconds, Evie nodded. Mal drummed her fingers in thought and walked towards the door of the office. She picked up Evie's duffel bag and waited for her friend to compose herself enough to follow.

Down the silent hallways, they stalked without a word. They briefly passed Ben's office where he was scribbling away but did not stop to say hi. When they reached Mal's old room and opened the door, a waft of aerosol cleaner and comfort drifted out. Mal set the duffel bag on the bed as Evie took in the room. "It's so… empty," She sighed.

Mal shrugged as she trailed her fingers along the wall. "Well, all my things were moved out when I married Ben," She explained.

Mal walked over to the desk and laid on the carpet underneath the desk. Evie followed her example and, careful of her dress, laid down beside Mal. Underneath the desk, a simple piece of flimsy printer paper was folded in fifths and taped to the desk at two corners. Mal pried it off at the seams and handed it to Evie. Evie took it and stood up. She returned to sit on Mal's old bed and began to read aloud.

"Dear Carlos, Jay, and Evie." Evie started. "I know you've probably been worried about me, and I want you to know I am safe. They're going to make me a queen, but I won't have any ruling power over Auradon. Prince Benjamin, though we call him Ben here, is planning on splitting the Isle off of Auradon and making it its own country. It'll be different, but I feel like I could make something out of it. Maybe I'll be able to make to safer for when you guys have kids. Then they won't have to fight for their lives like we did. As of right now, they don't want me to bring anyone over, but I hope one day it's safe enough for me to see you guys. The royals are truly some of the kindest people around. King Adam doesn't seem to like me much, but I think he gets angry when he's nervous and this whole system is really out of his depth. Belle is soft-spoken and understanding, and Ben is funny, but I think he feels restricted by what his parents set up. He sees flaws, but he doesn't want to offend them by fixing them. Even so, he's extremely strong and is the type of person who you straighten up when he's around. He's kind and thoughtful as well.

"Right now, they're actually training me to be a queen. I got to look up all of you in the computer, and Auradon knows literally nothing. They have the bare minimum of records, there's not even anything on Jay! When I'm queen, I'm going to have to find a foolproof way to keep track of everyone. That way we'll know how to distribute food and you guys won't have to go hungry anymore.

"I'm not sure what I'm supposed to be yet. Everyone here from Sophia, who is one of the palace servants, to the Fairy Godmother think I'm going to be a powerful Queen. I'm just not sure yet what I want to do. I've come to a conclusion though, that I'm happier being good than I was being evil. Sure, I'll never be the queen Auradon dreams of. I climb walls and hang out in the gardens with dirt on my face, but I think I can survive. The royals make it really easy to find a place with them. I feel like I didn't know I could belong here until I tried. In truth guys, I think I'm becoming part Isle and part Auradon. Maybe even something new and different entirely.

"I miss you guys a lot. You are always in my thoughts." Evie finished. More tears were in her eyes. She put the letter down and sniffled. Mal held her arms out for a hug, and the two embraced.

"It's going to be okay," Mal whispered in Evie's ear as she blinked back tears.

Evie took several shaky breaths as she leaned back and tried to steady herself. "I didn't know what you were going through." She whispered as Mal squeezed her hands. "Everything on the TV... I thought that you were dying and that world was lying..."

Mal put a hand on Evie's bicep. "The truth is out." She squeezed her friend's arm. "I don't want to let you down, E, but it'd... tear me apart to not listen to my heart."

Evie nodded and stretched her legs out and rubbed her sweaty palms on her knees. "I really have to go."

Mal rubbed her back lightly. "And I will never stop you." She promised.

"Even though we'll change?" Evie asked, shaking her head and scrubbing at her face. "Nothing can stay the same. If I go..."

"Nothing has to change," Mal promised. "And you know what? It's just growing pains. It'll end. Just... be proud of the scars because that's what makes us who we are." She squeezed Evie's hands. "You're a part of me. Just because I'm queen now, just because we're in Auradon doesn't mean I'll ever be out of reach. Between Auradon, the Isle, and the Moors... we can meet in between. And no matter how far you go, you're never going to be left alone."

"I don't want to leave you here," Evie admitted. Mal stiffened and opened her mouth to explain once again why she couldn't go, but Evie stopped her with a hand and a shake of her head. "I know you have to stay." She sighed. "Just... promise me you'll be safe?

Mal smiled and blinked back tears. "Nothing has to change." She promised

Those words did Evie in all over again. She couldn't help but be afraid of what was coming. Evie wondered if Mal could have possibly felt anything like this while en route to her future a year ago.

Evie wrapped her oldest friend up in a hug and began to cry softly into her shoulder. Nothing was going to be the same for them ever again, and while a part of Mal was bitter and sad, she understood everything would work out. She wrapped her arms around Evie tightly, and they sat on Mal's old bed, relishing in the past until both found the strength to withdraw and let it go.

________________________________________________________________

Down on the grounds an hour later, Mal, Ben, Belle, Adam, Sophia, Malice, and Lumiere gathered in front of the center circle to wish Jay, Evie, and Carlos goodbye. As Jay hefted their things into the back of a limousine, Carlos slowly twiddled his thumbs and Evie held her small backpack to her chest, shifting her weight in front of all the royals.

Mal sniffled. "You'll be okay?" She asked them all.

"Yeah." Carlos nodded. He looked downcast as he stared holes into the pavement. "We know how to turn in our papers, and Stewart will help us find our dormitories, and next week Jay and I will go get our driver's licenses so that we can drive while Evie learns, and we'll come up and see you guys every once in a while." He paused and was quiet for a few seconds. "We'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too." Mal smiled. "We all will. And, you know what? I'll come to visit you guys too. Come see how you're doing in classes and everything."

"Classes don't start for a month." Carlos reminded her. "We're just… going." The words: "because we can't stay" hung in the air.

Everyone remained silent. Ben stepped forward and put a hand on the small of Mal's back. Her cheeks went a bit pink as fire erupted in her chest. She tilted her head to curl into his shoulder a little as he continued to talk. "You have your phones." He reminded them. "You'll never have to fall out of contact."

The Villain kids nodded. Jay closed the trunk with a snap and walked over to stand behind Evie. Mal focused on him. "You're going to take care of them, right?" She asked.

Jay blinked in surprise. Mal had been carefully holding him at a distance since he'd kissed her. He glanced down at her mouth for a second longer, then a smile spread across his face. "Yeah," He agreed. "I will."

Mal stepped forward, dodged Evie slightly, and gave Jay a hug. "You remember that mantra your dad used to make you recite?" She asked.

"There's no 'team' in 'I'." Jay snorted. He slipped a hand around her waist.

"Well, I personally always thought you worked well with a team." Mal punched his arm lightly and then lifted his hand off her waist. Jay's face fell slack. Mal smiled at him. "You work well with others. You like having people you can back up and who back you up. So, when you get to campus, just… find all the friends you can. Your teammates, classmates…" Mal trailed off with a smile.

Jay nodded. "Yeah. I will. Thank you," He paused, then smirked. "Queen Mal."

A look of horror fell onto her face. Mal hit his arm. "No," She said, trying to wiggle out from under his grasp. "Don't you call me that. You call me Mal. I'm Mal to you."

"The first," Jay continued with a growing smile, holding fast onto her hips as she tried to slip away.

"No!" Mal groaned, giving up and clapping her hands over her ears.

"Of the honorable moorland and the Isle of the Lost," Jay yelled playfully over her protests.

"Found," Evie corrected. Everyone turned to her. "It's more the Isle of the Found, now." She explained.

Mal tilted her head as she thought. "It is," She agreed. "Like, eighty to ninety percent of the Isle is in the city now." She shrugged. "I guess it's the Isle of the Found."

Everyone chuckled. Hugs were exchanged, and goodbyes were said. Ben was pleasantly surprised when the three villain kids came forward to say their own personal goodbyes to him. Evie even gave him a quick hug. "Thank you for bringing us over," She told him without her gaze leaving the ground.

"Of course," A warmth filled Ben's cheeks as he smiled. He'd done good, this was all going to work out.

Carlos shook his hand. "Take care of her, bro." He whispered.

"Always," Ben confirmed. He turned to Jay.

Jay held out a hand for Ben to shake, but as soon as Ben's hand was in his, pulled him into a manly hug, with two thumps on Ben's back to accentuate the action. When they broke apart, Jay twisted a leather cord around his wrist as he thought of what to say.

"Look, bro." He started with a heavy sigh. "I know I've got lots to thank you for, but I'm not used to this so bear with me." He exhaled. "Thanks for taking care of Mal." He started, gesturing to the purple-haired fairy queen as she stood up beside Belle. "She's one of the most important things to us all, and you really gave her a home she deserves. And… thanks for bringing us from the Isle, and always thinking about us. You never judged us when we judged you, you took us to Auradon Accelerated so we could figure out what we were good at, and now you're helping us attend… I don't know if I'll ever be able to repay you for all this, man."

Ben clapped Jay's shoulder. "Hey, don't worry about it. It would be more than enough just for me to see you all happy."

Jay stared at Ben. He exhaled. "I can't deny that you are the best man I have ever had the pleasure of meeting in my life." He said honestly. "You're a brilliant king, a wonderful husband, and the best person in Auradon. If it had to be an Auradon man for Mal, I'm glad it was you. If I had a genie and only one wish, I would ask to be you." Jay shifted his weight. "And not just because you married the best girl on the Isle and my best friend." He added.

Everyone laughed. Ben nodded. "Thank you, Jay," He said. "That means a lot. Thank you."

They shared another bro-hug and then Jay walked over to the car. Stewart was already in the front seat. He helped Evie inside first and watched as Carlos climbed in. Then he got in and shut the door. The window rolled down. Mal walked over and handed the letter she'd written months ago to Carlos through the window. "That's for you all." She explained. "Evie's already read it."

They took it. Everyone waved as the car started, and the villain kids left the palace, off to Auradon Accelerated.

Sophia and Lumiere headed inside, but everyone else walked to sit on the steps of the palace. Belle gave Malice to Mal, who smiled and cooed at the wide-awake baby. "I've been thinking." Belle started. "Do you like Michelle or Madison at all?"

"Madison is cute." Mal nodded. "Let's not give her a bad middle name, though. I get that it worked with Ben, but I feel like being the daughter of the evilest Faerie alive is humbling enough."

"We should do something with rebirth and starting anew," Adam suggested.

"Hope?" Ben asked.

"Can we find an adjective that starts with B or A?" Mal asked. "You know, for Belle and Adam?"

Belle teared up. "You sure?" She asked.

Mal nodded.

Ben put his arm around Mal. "There's Blithe." He suggested. "It's like fly, almost. Blie-th. It means happy or joyous."

"Madison Blithe?" Mal asked.

"Benson," Belle added. "All of our last names are Benson unless you want her last name to be Fae for your mom."

"I like Benson." Mal shook her head. "Madison Blithe Benson?" She looked around. No one rejected.

Newly-christened Madison blinked up at Mal with big, round, green eyes. Mal chuckled and held her fingers in front of the tiny girl's face. Madison looked amazed as she tried to grab for the pretty polish on Mal's nails.

"Madison. That's you." Mal told her.

Ben leaned over her shoulder. "Hi, Madison." He called softly. Mal handed the small girl to him and smiled as he carefully held her in front of him. "I'm Ben, and I'm your new brother. You're going to grow up with us, and you're always going to be able to express yourself. You'll never have to worry about not fitting in because we'll always love you, and one day you and your sister will run around and prank us all with magic."

Mal snorted and laid her head against Ben's shoulder. He glanced up at her with a tiny smirk and held her gaze for a few seconds. She put her fingers back in front of Madison's face, where the small girl worked on slowly moving her tiny fingers to try and grab onto her older sister. Sunlight slanted past the palace roof, like the building was trying to cast as much light as possible. For many long minutes, everything was peaceful.

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coyotescribbles · 5 years ago

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Title: And Then There Were... Chapters: 1 Word Count: 2,280 Rating: PG

First there were eighteen.

Molly. Alec. Eli.

Shane. Addie. Marcus.

Rana. Theo. Jacob.

Dustin. Jay. Tarah.

Jason. Mai. Roman.

Kim. Damon.

And herself.

Eighteen lost, frightened, angry children, none older than six. All rounded up and bundled together and called "X-Ray."

It was chaos from Day One. They quibbled and jostled and fought over everything, from who got which bed to who got meals first to where they stood in the shower line. Alliances formed and cracked and broke apart on an almost daily basis.

But there was one thing they all seemed united about, and that was their dislike for Jeanette.

In typical child fashion, they'd singled her out for her small size and thick accent and poor English, and made her the group outcast. Suddenly, she found herself having to fight five times as hard just to hold her own.

It infuriated her.

It discouraged her.

She pushed on, anyway.

And, as the months ground on and their first year on Onyx drew to a close, the constant bickering and infighting died down. Her persistence and ferocity slowly won first grudging respect, then a gradual acceptance. Piece by damaged little piece, X-Ray began to coalesce into a team for the first time.

The second year dawned, and then there were fifteen.

Dustin, Jay, and Damon were "washed out," unable to keep up with the demanding classwork and the punishing physical demands placed on them.

Jeanette didn't see them again, after that.

The rest of them were given no time to process their collective loss. They had to keep up with the rest - keep up with and excel past, if they wanted to be Spartans.

And they very, very much wanted to be Spartans.

Days blurred into weeks blurred into months. They were constantly exhausted, physically and mentally, driven by a schedule that gave them no reprieve. They were growing, too, in fits and spurts that were physically painful, that made it hard to sleep and even harder to focus and function. They merely tightened their grips on one another and continued to forge on - taking more and more of their cues from Jeanette.

Jeanette, who was still small. Jeanette, who had all the ferocity and tenacity of a wolf. Who refused to take insults or attacks sitting down, whether they were directed at herself or her team.

Her team.

When had she started thinking of them like that? More importantly, did it matter? She decided that it did not. They were hers, and she wouldn't - couldn't - let them down.

Addie washed out. Then Theo. Then Kim.

And then there were twelve.

Autumn came, and by then they'd grown lean and gangly - small children masquerading as teenagers, all of them carrying more responsibility than most adults could tolerate. Roman plucked a stray silver hair from his head and they laughed at the absurdity of it all.

They slogged through winter, struggled through another spring. Summer marked the end of their second full year together with the promise of yet more trials to come. Still, they stumbled on.

Autumn fell amidst hushed whispers and half-heard arguments behind staff room doors. About what, they couldn't have possibly guessed, but it became clear that it had something to do with them when, one afternoon, they were rounded up from their exercises and brought to an empty classroom. Two strange adults stood at the front of the room, dressed in crisp black uniforms and looking very serious. They explained that they were from the Office of Naval Intelligence and that, after reviewing each team's overall performance, they'd personally selected X-Ray for "special training" - at a different location, separate from their peers and instructors, for an unknown period of time.

Jeanette had misgivings; something felt off about all of this. She had no say in the matter, though. They were to leave first thing in the morning, and that was that.

She didn't sleep that night. She couldn't, and when her favorite instructor found her wandering, she couldn't stop herself from spilling out her worries, either. Of course he reassured her - of course he did - with promises that it was only temporary, that she would be back in just a few short weeks.

He'd gathered her up, then, and carried her back to the barracks.

She'd fallen asleep on his shoulder before they were even halfway there.

----------

Marcus was the next to fall.

Quite literally, falling to his death at the foot of a towering desert mesa. Roman had nearly fallen, too, trying to catch him, but Molly had hauled him back before his own grip could fail him. They had then had to finish their climb while fighting back tears, knowing that even a moment of blurred vision could send them plummeting down to die alongside him.

And then there were eleven.

They hadn't even been allowed to grieve their loss, being harshly reprimanded for any show of emotion. Perfect soldiers didn't weep over the loss of the weak.

But they were not perfect, they were only children.

The weeks ground on. Their physical training intensified.

Jason was the next victim.

Tarah and Eli followed soon after.

And then there were eight.

Jeanette felt like she might break under the pressure of it all. Her body hurt, her heart hurt, her soul hurt and she was just so very tired... But she couldn't stop. She couldn't just leave them like that. She had to do something - but what? And how?

As she had so many times before, she found herself sneaking about after lights-out, prowling the darkened underground complex that had become their prison.

That was when she heard them - the DIs, talking quietly amongst themselves. One of them dropped the word "cull." Another casually spoke of "only needing to weed out three more" before commenting that then he'd "be able to get back to doing worthwhile work." Jeanette, however, barely heard that last part over the pounding of her heart and the rush of blood in her ears. '

They had been killing them - deliberately killing them, and they were going to kill more of them.

She didn't even pause to think over the situation, rushing back to the bunk room where the others slept to quietly wake them, to tell them what she'd heard, to hurriedly hash out the barest idea of an escape plan because that was all they had time for as they pulled on uniforms and boots and prepared to run.

They couldn't afford to waste a single minute.

In the end, they'd climbed, from the landing pad all the way down; it had been slow and treacherous, but they'd climbed down step by tentative step.

Mai had suggested taking one of the Warthogs parked by the lift doors not far away, and the rest of the team considered it for a few moments before nixing the idea - it would draw too much attention, and it would take too much time to push one out far enough to start the engine without alerting anyone to the theft. They would be better off on foot... or so they hoped, as they scraped out a shallow pit underneath the perimeter fence, wriggled free, and set out across the moonlit badlands of Onyx's desert.

The grasslands were only a dozen kilometers away. The outer fringes of the forest, only another twenty-five. As long as they kept to an easy jog, they would reach the cover of the trees before dawn.

For what felt like ages, the eight of them trotted along in silence, hyper-alert for any sign or sound of pursuit.

For a time, there was neither, and after a while they grew less vigilant.

After all, the edge of the forest was in sight, and once they'd reached the cover of the trees...

The sound of distant engines reached their ears, and X-Ray panicked, broke, and bolted. It took all Jeanette had to keep her own head and pull ahead of the rest, calling out to them to follow her, not to split up, to stay focused, but she was tired and they were all terrified and the Warthogs were growing closer by the minute.

She had to pull them back together. She couldn't afford to fail them, not now.

So she sacrificed precious seconds to fall back, to pull - physically, with Mai and Shane - the team back together, even as the Warthogs ate up the kilometers between them with every passing moment.

They had to get to the trees. Once they were in the trees, they would have cover, even makeshift weapons. They could cover the last hundred kilometers in relative safety, at an easier pace, and when they got back to Currahee their own instructors would be there. Kurt would be there. They would be safe.

But that was not to be.

The first to go was Rana.

Then Roman.

Then Mai and Shane in quick succession.

Jacob all but threw himself at the DIs, trying to disarm at least one. They killed him, too.

Seven, six, five, four, three.

Jeanette felt herself cracking steadily as bit by bit she failed. All she had left was Molly and Alec, two out of what had once been seventeen, and the DIs who were hunting them were relentless even on foot. When they inevitably caught up to them, she felt the desperation that Jacob must have felt as she turned, fully prepared to fight - only to be pulled back by Alec as he swung a fallen branch like a club over her head and into the face of the nearest DI. The man crumpled to the forest floor and a moment later Alec was on him, tearing his gun from its holster and throwing it at Jeanette's feet, screaming at her and Molly to run.

Molly did not run, but she did shove Jeanette back. Go, she'd said. Get help, she'd said.

We'll hold them off, she'd said.

Jeanette had been left with little choice but to snatch up the handgun and run, choking back the tears that threatened to blind her. Behind her, gunfire chattered and screams echoed through the trees, but she didn't dare look back, or even think about what was happening.

She just ran.

She'd failed. She'd failed all of them. Had tried to protect them, tried to save them, and she'd lost them anyway...

They were dead because of her.

But still, she fled. Despite the tears and the pain and the fear, she vanished into the trees and ran and ran and ran until she tripped on the roots of a sprawling banyan tree and tumbled to the ground. Her limbs and lungs burned like they were on fire, her head throbbed, her vision swam... she couldn't run anymore.

Shaking and sobbing quietly, Jeanette dragged herself into a hollow space beneath the roots of the tree and curled into a ball, still clutching the handgun Alec had thrown to her.

She didn't know how long she'd slept before the sounds of heavy footsteps and rustling undergrowth jolted her awake again - all she knew was that it was almost pitch-dark, and she was still being hunted. Did they have night-vision visors? She didn't know, though it seemed likely, meaning that they could no doubt see her, while she was nearly blind and helpless in the dark.

It occurred to her that it could be Alec or Molly, maybe even both - but if it were, surely they'd be signalling for her, waiting for her to sound a call back.

But there was only silence, broken by footsteps and leaves whispering.

She held the handgun tightly in both hands, shaking as she raised it, aiming it at the nothingness outside of her tiny shelter.

The footsteps drew nearer, and still there were no signals, no sign that it was her two remaining teammates.

Closer still, and now she could hear heavy breathing as well. There might have only been one person, or four, or five, it was impossible to tell. Her arms screamed in protest as she held the gun higher, tighter, finger hovering over the trigger.

A branch snapped.

The handgun sprang to life in her hands, spraying the undergrowth with bullets. Something fell, too close, and she squeezed herself further back into the hollow, letting the gun drop. There were no more footsteps. No more rustling. It was quiet once more.

She didn't move again until the first filtered light of morning turned the air silvery-gray - and then, she darted from her hiding spot and ran once more, not looking back.

And then there was one.

She fumbled through the forest for days, half-certain that she was lost. Once a day, she would climb up as high as she dared to try to get her bearings, before climbing back down again. Sometimes she kept to the trees, sometimes she was forced to the ground, and at all times she was taut and shaking with terror.

What had she done? What would she do?

What would happen to her?

She could hear Pelicans overhead, sometimes. Sometimes, she thought she heard movement in the underbrush again. Jeanette didn't let those things slow her down. She couldn't afford to. She had to be close to Currahee by now, and Currahee meant help. It meant safety.

It meant that maybe, hopefully, Alec and Molly and Jacob and the rest hadn't died in vain.

She clung to that hope like a lifeline. Clung to it as she recited their names and numbers over and over in her head.

She was still clinging to it when, as she crossed a shallow river, something hit her in the back.

There was a brief burst of pain.

And then the world went mercifully dark.

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oceanmastertrash · 6 years ago

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the tides know our names- 7/?

gif from @kingsorm

Summary: -takes place after the movie- Orm is working with Arthur to try to help Atlantis move forward when Elara has a vision of his death. As part of an order of Atlanteans dating back to the reign of King Atlan known as Tidewatchers, it is her duty to warn the king of her vision. Predicting and reading the future through the tides of fate has never been easy but Elara is in for the challenge of a lifetime working with her former king to save his life.

Part: 6/?

Word Count: 1,744

Warnings: none for this chapter

Read on Ao3

FRIENDLY REMINDER: This story has been remastered into and OC fic instead of a Reader fic. All chapters have been reworked to feature Elara instead of Y/N. If you've read the previous chapters, not much has changed from the story itself, just some strengthening of the prose and pronoun changing. I hope you all enjoy Elara as we continue on!

More than anything, Elara wanted him to look at her- to see what he really thought of her being the one to join him on the surface. And yet, he kept his eyes stubbornly fixed on his brother as he asked, “When will we leave?”

Arthur looked to Vulko then back to Elara and Orm. “Tomorrow.”

The next few hours were a blur. There was still much to plan and little time to do so. They’d spent a considerable amount of time debating whether such promptness was prudent or foolhardy but Arthur ultimately won out. As they had no way to discern when the vision would happen, getting Orm away from the palace as quickly was ruled the safest course.

Eventually, Elara left them to their plans. She may have needed to be in on discussions about the logistics of her upcoming departure, but discussions of how to orchestrate it and hide his absence were less in her wheelhouse.

And so, many hours after she’d first entered the palace, Elara returned to the Tidewatcher temple to prepare for her unexpected journey. Entering the temple, Elara was not surprised at all to find Calysa, the unofficial leader of the council, waiting for her. Of course, she’d been following the tides.

“You know?” Elara asked with a sigh.

Calysa, wasn’t as old as Atlanna but she had experience beyond her years. She’d seen much and helped many as well as effectively raising Elara after her mother died.

The wrinkles around her pale blue eyes crinkled as she nodded. “The patterns are still unclear on much in this matter but, for what it’s worth: I think you made the right decision.”

Elara felt a weight lift, “That helps. Walk with me?”

Calysa fell into step beside Elara, giving the younger tidewatcher space to breathe and think.

Elara had always appreciated that about Calysa. She’d done her best to guide and support Elara not only through her training and the hardest years of her life, but she’d done her best not to smother the young girl. Calysa would always be there with advice and direction but she allowed Elara to make her own decisions about things, which in hindsight, was also one of the most useful skills a tidewatcher could develop.

Elara felt like she’d just walked through a flood with all that had happened that day. Part of her wanted to lay down right there and sleep for a week but, of course, that wasn’t an option right now.

So, forging ahead, she asked, “Is there anything you can tell me about what I’m getting into?”

Calysa sighed sadly, “You know I would tell you if there was.”

Elara knew that but rarely had her gift ever felt so useless. Other than the vision, trying to see her way through this situation was like trying to gaze through a solid rock wall.

“Why is it so difficult this time?” Elara asked.

Calysa took her former charge’s arm and began leading them to Elara’s room, “You’re a gifted Watcher, Elara, what do you think the block is?”

Elara felt like she was a tidewatcher novice again, still being taught through questions. Calysa had taught Elara so much but she believed in giving Elara the tools to divine the answers for herself rather than just giving her own opinion and passing it as fact. It wasn’t until Elara had done the work and divining herself that Calysa would share her thoughts.

Elara had already begun to suspect what the problem was but just wanted some confirmation from someone else.

“It’s Prince Orm, isn’t it?”

Calysa nodded. “Our prince has come to a grand sort of crossroads in the tides. After all that has happened, there are too many options before him. Too many forks in the river for him to choose from, each one twisting back on itself and crossing with others in complicated ways. He is in a unique position. Many of these paths lead to greatness but just as many lead to devastating ruin and until he decides which direction he will take, his tides will remain unreadable to us.”

“If there are so many conflicting possibilities for him, how do we know for sure that he’ll take the path that leads to what I saw?” Elara asked, trying to piece it all together. “My vision could be in a completely different direction than where’s he headed now.”

Rather than answering, Calysa looked at her calmly. “Do you feel like it’s in a different direction?”

Elara hung her head. No, no she did not. This didn't feel like a possible obstacle on one path amongst a multitude of streams, it felt like a waterfall- inevitable as the pull of gravity. The thought scared Elara, it felt like a challenge too big for her to tackle.

“No, I don’t. I don’t even know if I can stop it at this point,” Elara admitted.

Calysa clucked fondly, “Now I know you know that’s not true. The tides may shift and change as they will but nothing is set in stone. The ocean shouted this at you Elara. It chose you to see this and I believe that’s because you are the one who was meant to see it.”

Elara smiled weakly, “You’re talking in circles again.”

“That’s because time is a circle!” Calysa said excitedly, rehashing an old discussion of theirs. She then shook her head and waved her hand in front of them. “Forget that for now though. Just remember Elara. Remember that the tides wouldn’t have shown this to you if all you were meant to do was tell the King to begin making funeral arrangements. The tides are a thing of water- not of stone. And I have never heard of a vision as strong as yours ever ending in an unchanged dead end. You may not be meant to save him but you were meant to do something with this knowledge.”

Having arrived at Elara’s chambers they entered and sat down on the side of her bed.

Elara was silent, still trying to make sense of the tangled mess that was Orm’s tides when Calysa spoke again, almost hesitantly.

“I saw this possibility once.”

Elara looked to her. “I thought you said you couldn’t reach any of the tides around my vision.”

Calysa nodded, “And I can’t. I haven’t seen any patterns of his death. That’s not the possibility I saw. What I saw was you and Orm on the surface together.”

Elara jolted as she faced her mentor dead on. “You saw what ? Why didn’t you tell me before?”

Calysa laughed at Elara’s expression. “Because, as I’ve always said, reading the tides is a matter of timing and the time was never right. It was such a small thread, such a faint possibility at the time. Yet, it was still vibrant and I did not want to disturb it.”

Elara knew Calysa had a point, as she often did, but such an idea was so foreign to her.

“Besides,” the older woman continued, “you were hardly in the mood at the time to receive it well.”

Elara squinted suspiciously, “What kind of mood was I in?”

Calysa’s eyes twinkled in mirth, “I believe you were of the mood to call your king a ‘big-headed, close-minded lout who had no respect for the tides or women who were smarter than him’.”

Elara froze, remembering those words and the anger that had gone with them.

“ Then ?! You saw us going to the surface together that long ago?”

Calysa smiled, “Indeed. The timing amused me then nearly as much as it does now.”

“But I hated him then,” Elara reminded her.

“Oh I know,” Calysa said.

Elara remembered it all too well. It had been ten years ago that she’d first seen Orm in the tides. She’d been an apprentice perhaps a year or two then, no longer a novice or a teenager but a young woman still. King Orvax had been dead for less than a year and his son had been working hard to master to the daunting task of ruling his people.

This climate probably was not the best time for Elara to see a pattern of Orm making a mistake. And yet, the tides had spoken to her. Elara, having just returned from training on the surface, was brimming with confidence. But, even with the self-assurance that is so often found in youth this had given her pause. She was young enough in the craft that she could still have interpreted it wrong and didn’t want to alienate the young king over a misinterpretation.

Unlike any other pattern she’d seen before, she sat on it for a few days before even bringing it to Calysa. She tried searching the tides for any other part of the pattern she might have missed and yet the message remained clear. Calysa had lightly chided her apprentice for keeping it to herself when Elara finally presented it to her; but, through her own searchings, she found the same pattern that Elara had.

After that, Calysa had encouraged Elara to tell the king what she’d seen. Elara was mortified at the idea but Calysa reminded her this was her duty as a tidewatcher. As long as there had been tidewatchers, there had been unpleasant patterns but it was their responsibility to help the affected parties either prepare for what was to come or to help them learn from and avoid it. Just because Elara was still an apprentice didn’t make this any different.

Orm, new to the throne, was dubious at the idea of tidewatchers but, as he sought to uphold the tradition their service to Atlantis had always been, he had granted Elara, accompanied by Calysa, an audience to discuss the young tidewatcher’s portents.

To say it did not go well was putting it mildly.

King Orm had been prepared to listen but make up his own mind about the nature of tidewatching in its entirety. He considered the whole thing more of a courtesy than an obligation at the time. His father had not been fond of the trade but it wasn’t in him to disband a centuries-long tradition. He’d just always paid them little mind and put little faith in the tidewatchers and their patterns. Under his father’s example Orm was not a believer in the tides to begin with.

And yet, despite all this, here was this young woman, with scraggly hair and little experience in her gift telling him that she foresaw him making a deal with a surface dweller that would lead to death and pain for his people. King Orm was outraged and prepared to call the whole thing a useless art. He was insulted, and so, tactless or not, he insulted back.

What he’d thought most strange was that the girl refused to be cowed or belittled, even by her king. She stood toe-to-toe with him, utter confidence blazing in her amber eyes as she defended her craft. She was probably a foot shorter than him and really had nowhere near the authority he held and yet she didn’t let it stop her.

Orm had wanted to dismiss it out of hand as preposterous. Ever since losing his mother because of it, Orm had hated the surface dwellers and the idea that he would make any sort of deal with them rankled at him. To think that this apprentice in an uncertain craft could be so certain that he would betray or hurt his people in anyway, especially with a surface dweller was beyond absurd. He’d dismissed her and the idea of tidewatching and focused instead on his reign, as if trying to prove Elara wrong. And yet, he couldn’t dismiss the look on her face as she defended what she knew would happen.

As time had gone on, other more provable and positive tide patterns had at least won the Tidewatchers more credibility with the King. It was several years before Elara had been part of any presentation of tides to King Orm again, and yet, anytime an audience was requested by the Tidewatchers, he couldn’t help but wonder if it would be that audacious young woman who’d challenged him so thoroughly.

For Elara’s part, she’d tried to put the whole episode behind her. Though she knew what she saw was still likely to happen, she tried her best to distance herself from the King both physically and in her tidewatching. And yet, even back then, Calysa had seen their paths entwining in the most unusual way.

In the present, Elara was burning with curiosity at such a vision.

“What did exactly did you see?” Elara asked.

Calysa sighed, almost considering keeping it to herself but thought it could do little harm to the pattern to tell Elara now. “You were in a forest. It was dark but a light I couldn’t see the source of seemed to shine around the two of you. Your hair was as long as it is now. And remember that when I’d seen this you’d had that short crop you’d gotten on the surface that made it look like you had a dirty mop on your head.”

Elara scrunched her nose at Calysa’s teasing. It wasn’t that bad of a haircut but it had made much more sense on the surface than when she’d returned underwater. Now her golden brown hair was down to her waist- a good foot and a half longer than it had been when she’d met Orm.

“So you knew it was much farther down the line from that?”

“That and your Tidestone,” Calysa said indicating the gem Elara wore around her neck.

Tidestones had been handed down through generations of Tidewatchers since the time of King Atlan. Made from stones found in the ocean they were said to be imbued with a kind of magic that helped watchers connect with the tides. While that strengthening could be proven, there had long been rumors of some Tidestones possessing other skills like healing or even control over animals. As far as Elara knew though, those were just myths.

It had long been tradition that as tidewatchers entered new stages of growth in their path as a tidewatcher, they were given a different stone. When Elara had her first vision that led her to cross paths with Orm, she’d been wearing the swirling patterned agate stone of an apprentice but the one she had worn the last 4 years was one of vibrant jasper that signified she was now a master tidewatcher.

Elara smiled as she touched it, “Did you think of your vision when you gave this to me?”

“Yes, but it still didn’t feel like the right time to tell you.”

“What else did you see?” Elara asked. She knew it was unlikely there was anything truly pertinent to learn from it but the whole idea of going with Orm to the surface, which until a few moments ago had seemed so thrown together, having been foreseen fascinated her.

Calysa almost seemed to speak slower, as if she didn’t want to startle Elara, “The two of you were looking at each other and he said something to make you laugh. I didn’t hear what it was but it didn’t seem to be the point.”

The whole image seemed almost too foreign to believe. “What was the point then?”

“You were happy,” Calysa said simply.

Elara put her head in her hands, mumbling. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with that.”

“I don’t think this is the kind of sight that requires anything to be done, I think the point of it was just to be seen and known.” Calysa said simply.

Elara kept her face in her hands, bone tired and confused.

“I’ll leave you to pack,” Calysa said before Elara could think of any reply.

Part of Elara wanted her to stay, to comfort her in the face of such a baffling future, to say the right thing to help Elara figure out how she felt about all this. But Elara knew she needed to work through and absorb some things on her own and could use some time alone to take in the events of the day. Calysa knew this so she stood and squeezed Elara’s shoulder once and then left.

Elara should have gotten up immediately to get ready for tomorrow but instead she just lay back on her bed, staring up at the barnacle ceiling, asking for answers from the silent tides.

A/N: I know this chapter didn't have much Orm in it but I felt it was one we needed to not only set up the Tidewatchers some more but to help you get to know Elara better. and we get some history between her and Orm which has been fun to tease before now. I just love this story so much and I'm so happy to get to share this with you all. I would love to hear what y'all think of Elara and the story so far! remember, feedback is love! thank you for reading!

#king orm x oc #orm x oc #king orm #orm marius #ocean master #the tides know our names #tidewatcher fic #oceanmastertrash

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spnfanficpond · 6 years ago

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March 2019 Pond LiveChat Recap

We had a great time chatting today with @bamby0304! Thank you so much, Amber, for joining us!!

We talked about Planners (writers who outline and plan out their stories) vs. Pantsers (writers who fly by the seat of their pants), and had some great questions and answers from everyone who joined! A rundown of the chat, as well as the usual general Pond news, is below the cut.

Michelle: I love attending writing panels at comic cons, and at one, the presenter said there are two kinds of writers, and that each type has their strong points. Planners have tighter storylines, but pansters tend to have stronger characters because they start with the characters and the story writes itself. (This is a broad generalization, so there are always exceptions to this rule.) As a pantser, it made me feel better about my writing, because I felt like CRAP because I can't outline for shit. Before hearing this, I thought, “My writing is crap and it’s always gonna be crap because I don’t outline and plan,” even though readers told me they liked my writing. Hearing that how I write is a valid process and there are successful writers like me really helped me to embrace it and feel better. We can always learn from each other, though, which is why we’re here!

Amber: I do find that sometimes diving in head first, with no thought, can result in a more interesting story. While most of my fics are planned, I do sometimes just get an idea and run with it. Having an outline can be a little restricting at times...

Q: Amber, how do you keep track of all your work in progress?

Amber: I have a doc that lists all my past, present and future fics which is very detailed. Everything is color-coded and alphabetized!

Q: For the pantsers, how do you end a story? I started writing my story as a series of one-shots that accidentally connected, and now I have a 15-chapter story that needs an ending....

Michelle: When I write, I always have an end goal in mind, like a road trip. I know where I want to go, but not necessarily which roads I’ll take to get there. Only once did I not do that, and it was just crack, with me just trying to stuff a lot of ridiculous crack into it, and it doesn’t have much of an ending, really. My advice for where you are, though, would be to sit down, close your eyes, and put yourself in every character's shoes. Think about how they feel about what's been happening, and disregard all of the other characters. Think about what they want and what they might do next. When you find the characters with the most interesting motivations and potential actions, there's the rest of your story.

Q: Amber, are you a planner in other aspects of your life, too?

Amber: I'm a planner with everything. My dad has a saying that's been drilled into me since birth: Better to have it and not need it, than need it and not have it. He also says: Better safe than sorry. So I guess I've just always felt the need to be organised and prepared. I'm at least half an hour early to everything. My books and DVDs are in alphabetical order, my wardrobe is colour coordinated... I'm all about organisation

Q: Michelle, do you find that your end goal gets lost in the middle? Like, if you don’t plan the small stuff, do you take a left turn instead of right and end up losing your original plan?

Michelle: Oddly enough, I don’t. There have been times when the story made a left turn, and after a short while, I got blocked. Every time I get blocked, it's a sign I made a wrong turn. If I go back to the turn and start fresh, it always works out. In my recent NaNoWriMo fic, I was on day 3, and suddenly, I lost all urge to write it. Nothing was coming to me. It was all crap. I went back, threw out almost an entire day's worth of writing, and then forged ahead. It was nerve-wracking, because it put me behind on my daily word count for the month, but it worked.

Q: Amber, did you learn how to outline from someone, or are you self-taught?

Amber: At first I was a full time pantser. I was a shipper who just wanted Elena and Damon together, and I didn't care how they got there. Now, though, I think about pretty much every step I take... well, almost every step I take.

Q: Are your outlines in complete sentences or just points you want to make in each chapter?

Amber: Depends on the story. With Wolves just had dot points for chapters, but The Hart has a full doc of details. I would jot a few words down for With Wolves, because I also try to stick to a word count for each chapter so sometimes the idea would spread into multiple chapters

Q: Is sticking to a word count per chapter a thing that you do for yourself for pacing, or for your readers so they don't have long chapters?

Amber: Mostly for pacing. Most of my reader insert fics are 1.5k-2.5k words long. Except Her Saviours... that's 3.5-5k long. I like things to be uniform.

Q: I can't get past 1k would outlining help with that?

Amber: Outlining could help, sure. But you need ideas to outline, first.

Q: Do you have a writing schedule that you stick to, where it's your priority for that time to write, or do you just write when you can?

Amber: I started uni this week, so now it's more of a do-it-when-you-can kinda thing... but I like to write in the evenings. I make a cup of tea and sit myself down, and make myself write. Often I don't wanna... but I have a posting schedule to keep up with, so I don't have much of a choice.... I also put on SPN when writing that fandom. I specifically stick to the season that might go along with the plot of that fic. I can't write in silence.

Michelle: I can't write if there's anything AT ALL happening anywhere in the world that I might find remotely interesting. Silence, no music, no TV, nothing good on my dash, it's terrible. Literally, anything is more interesting than writing for me, until I get going.

Q: Do your stories ever break from your outline?

Amber: All the time! For instance, in Her Saviours (sorry about name dropping my fics, but I just like using examples) Sam is misbehaving big time. He keeps on doing things I don't want him to do, which moves the plot along faster that I'd like.

Q: How do you even start an outlining process?

Amber: it might be a slight OCD thing... because I'm organised with everything... but a lot of my planning is motivated by the fact that if I don't plan I'll lose interest in my stories and give up.

Followup Q: I want to try, but you made it sound a bit overwhelming.

Amber: It's really not overwhelming. You get the idea for a story and then you want to write... so jot that idea down. Then jot down other ideas that go with it. Set up a timeline. Dean wants pie Dean goes to get pie Dean meets girl at bakery They laugh, have fun He buys her pie Turns out it's magical pie that people get addicted to Dean has to decide whether he ganks witch (pie girl) or not. Just write simple stuff like that.

Q: Do Pantsers lose motivation easily?

Michelle: Sometimes. If I don’t know what I want to write next, it’s really easy to get distracted and not write. I need a writing schedule that I stick to. I used to have one, but I've filled it up with being tired from having a life.

@manawhaat: Yes and no. if I lose the motivation, it's because the story isn't there or i'm not having the right thoughts to help that story along. Like if I generally know what the fuck is going on in a story, I'm probably not writing it because I already know it. It's the ones that are a mystery or Mr. Toads Wild Ride that I end up writing bc I'm actively motivated to figure it out.

Q: Do you have a posting schedule? And if you do lose motivation, does that affect said schedule?

Michelle: I do not have a schedule. I have an order in my head of what I want to write next, but unless it's for a challenge, no due date to write it by.

Mana: I have never had a posting schedule because I am not the schedule type person and will 100% abort from the plan and not stick to it at all. Even signing up for challenges, I'm wary of time frames because I'm more likely to drop out if I can't figure my shit out within that time. I'd rather drop out of a challenge than pump out something that isn't really what I want to write or doesn't tell the story I need to tell.

Amber: I pace myself with posting. I give fics certain days (like today is Spanner in the Works day) and I post them weekly on said day. I choose the days by title most of the time... I like alliteration, so Spanner in the Works is posted on Sunday S + S.

Q: Are you really a pantser, or a planner in denial? Do you just not realize somethings you do are baby steps into becoming a full time planner?

Michelle: When it comes to writing, I've tried to plan, and I just can't. If I plan too thoroughly, then I feel like I've already written the story, and I lose motivation to write it out. But I'm more of a planner in life. I have a calendar and a routine that I follow, simply because there are days when I'm not cognitively aware enough to make actual decisions. If everything is muscle memory, I can run on auto pilot and not crash. To use the road trip analogy, when I go on an actual road trip, I figure out the route and all the bathroom breaks ahead of time. Completely different than when I’m writing.

Tips gleaned from writers at writing panels at comic cons:

As you're writing, keep an "outline" of your chapters with only a sentence or two describing each chapter. This helps you if you need to go back and reference something later, and helps you see the overall story arc.

Naming characters - Try to avoid naming characters with the same first initial. A reader's eyes will sometimes only hit the first letter of a name, so keeping track of character names helps. Write the alphabet on a piece of paper, and write down every name as you go along.

If you're stuck, or feel like your story is meandering, try to picture in your mind what the movie trailer for your story would look like. What makes this movie more interesting than similar movies? What is driving your story?

If you've got a good flow going, and then it suddenly dries up, go back to when you last felt confident, and move on from there. Something you did since then wasn't right, and you'll see it when you start again.

Thanks to everyone who was there! It was a great chat!

General Pond Updates and Reminders

Angel Fish Award nominations are accepted all month long! No need to wait to tell us how much you liked a fellow Fish’s work! If you have sent in a nomination, but have not received a private message confirming we received it, we didn’t get it. Be sure to use Submit instead of Ask!

Don’t forget to submit your stories to be posted to the blog! When your stories are on the blog, then they are easier to nominate for Angel Fish Awards!

SPNFanFicPond Season 14 Weekly Episode Writing Challenge - New prompts go up after every new episode, and there’s no deadline! Check out the prompts and rules at the link!

Say hi to February’s New Members!

Check the Pond CALENDAR to see when Big Fish will be in the chat room and other Pond and SPN events are happening! Know of something that’s not on the calendar, send us an ask or submission with the deets info details! The calendar offers a lot of features, such as showing you when things are in your own timezone! Since we’re an international group, that’s a definite plus!!

In April, we’re going to chat with one of our Big Fish, @deanscarlett about writing in English when it’s not your first language! Hope to see you there!

#spnfanficpond live chat #chat room #let's chat #THE CHAT ROOM #pond chat

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laurelsofhighever · 7 years ago

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Arguing With Mabari

An older fic - the story of Alistair and Rosslyn’s first kiss - on AO3 Chapter 1, Chapter 2

An old Fereldan saying suggests mabari are clever enough to speak, but wise enough not to. Now his feelings for his fellow warden are deepening beyond mere friendship, Alistair is beginning to see how very true that is, though the proverb leaves out that - at least in the case of one particular mabari - they also get very, very jealous.

The dog was doing it on purpose. Alistair was sure of it. Every evening in camp, Cuno snuffled about his business making sure everyone was still aware of his presence so he could demand his accustomed scratch on the rump. And then, as soon as Alistair made any sort of motion towards Rosslyn, whether to hand her a dish of stew or ask her for the sewing kit she kept in her pack, the dog would get up, and – glaring pointedly all the while – plonk himself in a very deliberate way between his mistress and the man who was trying to talk to her.

At first, Alistair shrugged off this behaviour as a simple expression of dislike. Mabari were known to be particular about their people, after all, and Rosslyn had been through enough to make Cuno more protective than a normal dog. As time went on, however, and Alistair found himself more and more preoccupied with thoughts of his fellow Grey Warden and the increasing number of casual touches and lingering glances shared between them, a different suspicion took hold in his mind: maybe the dog was jealous.

And if Cuno was jealous of the attention Rosslyn gave him, might that mean she…?

Alistair’s stomach curled into knots as he stared at the dark oilskin walls of his tent. The thought made his heart beat all the faster because it was tied up with his feelings for Rosslyn, who only had to smile at him these days for his lungs to suddenly forget how they worked. If Cuno was trying to keep them separated, then it implied she could have similar feelings for him. Even if he could never see someone as graceful as Rosslyn forgetting to breathe just because somebody smiled at her.

In his defence, she had a very pretty smile.

Armed with this theory, over the following days Alistair studied Cuno, and after much thought decided to use what was known in alchemical circles as the scientific method. First, he approached Cuno with a nice, juicy hunk of venison to establish a baseline, and since Rosslyn had taught him to accept food from any member of their party, it was a good way to establish the dog’s true feelings. Of course, having grown up around dogs, Alistair knew that offers of a free meal were often enough to distract even mabari from their grudges, so later the same day he offered to play tug-o’-war with a tattered piece of hide. The game ended after twenty minutes with Cuno’s tongue lolling in pleasure as Alistair petted him in all the places big dogs loved, their relationship clearly an amicable one.

That, however, changed instantaneously when Rosslyn called him to the other side of their midday camp to help her consult the map. The dog bristled before trotting over to his mistress ahead of Alistair and butting insistently against her leg.

“Are you alright?” she asked when she caught sight of the odd expression on her fellow Warden’s face.

“Me? I’m just contemplating the critical nature of our cheese supplies,” he replied, hoping the brightness of his smile would deflect any suspicions she might have. “We’re running low, you see.”

“And whose fault is that, I wonder?” she teased. “Don’t worry, we’ll be coming to a village in the next day or so, so we can restock. I just need a second opinion on where we are.”

He was careful not to reach out to her as she illustrated their position with a plucked stalk of grass, keeping his fingers laced firmly behind him instead of resting against the small of her back as he sorely wanted to do. When she impatiently batted away a loose strand of hair that had fallen across her cheek he felt himself swayed by the scent of lavendis in her soap and forced himself to turn his head away and breathe.

“Am I boring you?” she enquired.

Heat surged to his cheeks. Damn that tiny lopsided smirk of hers. “Of course not! I was… merely scanning the horizon. A village the size of Southford probably has a forge, or at least a baker, so our best bet would be to follow any signs of smoke we see. Don’t you think?” he added with an uneasy gulp.

She chuckled, leaning in closer. “That might be easier if we weren’t surrounded by a lot of really tall trees.”

He didn’t miss the way her gaze flickered down to his mouth, but before he could do anything other than feel his lungs seize up again, Sten crashed her way through the moment with a grumble and the demand that they start walking again. With their privacy spoiled, Rosslyn moved, blushing, to resume her position at the head of their group, leaving Alistair to watch after her with an emotion tied up somewhere between frustration and enlightenment.

Cuno rumbled next to him, his stare baleful and his jowls quivering in the preliminaries of a snarl.

Alistair scowled back. I’m onto you, Dog.

The situation came to a head two days later in the taproom of The Cockspurs, Southford’s only tavern. The place was noisy, lit by greasy torches set in sconces along the walls and possessed of the sweet barley odour common to all inns where the soft furnishings have been doused in generations of spilt ale. Locals filled most of the space, but Southford was on enough of a thoroughfare that bands of well-armed strangers were not an uncommon sight, and so their party was scattered among the patrons, more relaxed than they would have been sleeping on the cold hard ground in the woods.

Alistair slipped his coppers over the counter and hefted his two foaming mugs of local brew with a nod to the bartender, noting as he dodged around a local drunk that Wynne was already on her third pint of the evening. Leliana had commandeered an old pouffe by the fire and was strumming tunes on her lute, playing requests and laughing with the patrons. To nobody’s surprise, Zevran was entertaining the bar maids with card tricks and feats of juggling, skills no doubt picked up on the streets of Antiva. There was no sign of either Sten or Morrigan, but then neither of them were overly fond of people, and they could take care of themselves well enough that Alistair wasn’t worried.

Finally, he spotted his target over the heads of the milling crowd. He made his way over to the corner where Rosslyn sat with Cuno snoring at her feet, frowning as she took stock of their remaining share of coin. Evidently they had spent more than they intended at the market that day, and his step faltered as he thought guiltily about the the extensive repairs to his shield that had robbed them of an extra day’s food. Then she glanced up and beamed when she noticed him, and the world fell to rights again.

“Don’t tell me, we’re poor again,” he joked as he set one of the pewter tankards on the scrubbed wooden table before her.

She reached out and dragged it closer. “Afraid so. There’s all the costs of the repairs we needed, and then there’s the food bill.” A sigh heaved from her chest. “If this is what it costs to fee two Grey Wardens, I hate to think how much of the Treasury Cailan spent at Ostagar. Sorry, that was insensitive,” she added, seeing the momentary tightening of his fingers around his drink.

“It’s alright,” he answered. “That’s actually a pretty good point. But we’ve got enough to see us to the next town, right?”

“More or less.”

He nudged her shoulder. “Hey, don’t look so down. We wouldn’t have nearly as much as this if you weren’t so weirdly good at finding things.”

“Did you just call me weird?” she challenged, smirking. She started to lean towards him but got distracted by the wide, blunt head suddenly weighting down her thigh. “Oh, woken up, have you?” she crooned at her Mabari. “Who’s a good boy?”

“Face it, dear lady, you’re worse than a magpie,” Alistair teased. He watched Cuno shove his head further into his mistress’ lap, but all the dog received was an absent rub behind the ears as Rosslyn turned her attention back to the man sitting next to her.

“Such impertinence,” she huffed, though there was no real malice behind the words. She shrugged and raised her tankard to offer him a toast. “To magpies!”

“To magpies,” he agreed, tapping his mug against hers before taking a deep swig. The amber liquid slid down his throat in welcome gulps, cool and just bitter enough to be refreshing in the overheated room. Next to him, Rosslyn sighed in contentment. He turned to ask her opinion of the ale, but stopped short.

“You’ve um…”

“What?”

“You’ve got…” He waved his hand in the vague direction of her mouth. “Foam.”

“Huh? Oh.”

She wiped the froth from her upper lip with the back of her hand and the two of them spent the next few moments in awkward silence as Alistair scrambled for a neutral topic of conversation. Cuno used the interruption to squeeze under the table and push his bulk between them, rubbing his head up Rosslyn’s leg with an insistent whine when her fingers were too slow to work into the loose skin at his neck.

“It’s nice to get a break from everything,” Alistair finally managed, eyes narrowed at the dog, who had twisted around with a triumphant expression that seemed to say, She still loves me more than you.

Rosslyn sagged against the wall and groaned. “I’m just glad I’m going to be sleeping in a bed for a change.”

“Whaaat, and miss out on all those comfortable rocks digging into your spine?”

He was grateful for her chuckle then, because it meant she had missed the flush creeping up his neck at the thought of her in a bed, her hair mussed and her eyes bleary with sleep. Did she wear nightclothes or did she sleep…?

Argh.

Such thoughts were not appropriate. Not that it stopped his treacherous imagination, or the blood that roared in his ears when she rested her head sleepily – trustingly – on his shoulder. The movement had become familiar over the past few weeks, comforting even, but the warmth of her weight still sent little jolts of electricity down to his toes.

“You get used to rocks,” she told him with a sigh. “It’s more the rain that – Ow! What is it, Cuno?” She jerked upright as one the dog’s heavy front paws landed squarely in her crotch. He had squirmed out from under the table and was trying to climb into her lap as if he weren’t the size of a small pony, pushing himself upwards so he could lick her face. But his bulk and the height of the seat provided and unforeseen obstacle, and his grumbles climbed in frustration as his back legs failed to find purchase on the edge of the bench.

“Andraste’s blood, what has gotten into you?” Rosslyn growled, struggling to push him back. “Get down!”

Immediately, Cuno stilled. His stubby ears flicked back in alarm at his mistress’ tone. His jowls quivered like the bottom lip of a child about to cry.

“I said, get down,” she repeated, less harshly this time. Around the room, the eyes of many of the patrons had turned to observe the scene, and their scrutiny made heat rise to the tips of her ears.

Cuno obeyed. He hunkered down on his haunches, head held low so he could employ the full effect of his wide, liquid-black eyes. The nub of his tail wiggled contritely under the table as he whined.

“Honestly.” Rosslyn ruffled her mabari’s ears. “What’s the matter?”

Cuno whined again and turned an accusatory look on Alistair, who sat uneasily with his hand rubbing across his collarbone.

“I might have an explanation.”

“Yes?”

Taking a deep breath, Alistair stammered out his theory. He winced as he mentioned his observations and how he had manipulated events to make sure, preferring to look at his fingers twisting in his lap rather than whatever emotions must be warring on Rosslyn’s face. That also meant he didn’t have to watch as he contorted his sentences to avoid the heart of the matter, namely his growing attraction and the question of whether or not she returned it. It felt too much like he was pressuring her, and the thought made something hot squirm beneath his ribs.

When his voice finally fizzled out, he risked a peek sideways and saw her frowning as she cradled her dog’s head in her palms. Hunched forward, every line in her shoulders bunched tight with an emotion he didn’t dare name. Chatter rose around them in a gentle hum; Leliana cascaded through the final notes of an Orlesian ballad; a bubble of cheers rose up from the corner of the bar where Zevran flirted so easily with the innkeeper’s staff.

“Rosslyn?”

Her gaze slid over to him, but skittered away again as colour bloomed across her cheeks. “I’m…” She cleared her throat. “I’m tired. I… think I’m going to go to bed.”

“Right, yes, good idea,” he babbled, watching her stand and feeling his happiness trickle away like cold sweat down the back of his neck. “See you in the morning?”

She turned back, the blush standing out red against her pale skin. A bashful smile played at the corners of her mouth and hope swelled again in his chest. “Bright and early.”

Only when she had disappeared upstairs (with the dog padding triumphantly at her heels) did Alistair feel it safe enough to drop his head back against the wall with a heavy, painful thump. He repeated the motion several times. Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. Clearly the only option now was to drown his embarrassment in ale and hope he became so drunk he could stumble across a well, then fall into it and drown before having to face her again.

Knowing his augmented Grey Warden tolerance for alcohol, he had a long way to go.

What felt like hours later, Alistair stumbled along the squeaking floorboards in the inn’s guest wing. He had long since lost track of the rest of his companions, not to mention the number of pints he had managed to put away thanks to his Warden appetite, and the bar had mostly been empty by the time he decided enough was enough and it was time to sleep.

He rubbed his eyes as a yawn overtook him, his balance knocked off-kilter by the foggy haze behind his eyes. Something solid lay across the width of the corridor. Of course Alistair failed to notice this until his shins knocked against it and sent him sprawling with a yelp.

Wait. The yelp didn’t belong to him. The curses and loud invocations to the Maker, certainly, but the yelp – when he twisted around to see what was the matter he discovered Cuno had been sleeping in the hall, tucked against the outside of Rosslyn’s door.

“So you’re in the kennel too, huh?” he asked the affronted dog. “Well, you did stand on her. With claws. In a very… you know what, I’m not going to finish that sentence.”

Cuno harrumphed and got up so he could rearrange himself on the most comfortable patch of floor, looking so dejected by his fall from grace that Alistair couldn’t help but be sympathetic. Ignoring the sober part of his brain that longed for the softness of the mattress in his room down the hall, he flopped down by the dog’s head, stretched his long legs out as far as the width of the corridor would allow, and waited for his head to stop spinning. Cuno eyed him balefully, unimpressed that the man had failed to notice the determined effort to ignore him.

“You know, I can understand why you’re doing it,” the Warden told the dog conversationally. “Why you want to protect her. She’s special, isn’t she?”

New alertness twitched in Cuno’s ears as he listened to the slightly slurred voice.

“I’ll tell her that, you know, when I can get the words out.” Alistair felt his hands wander to the comfort of the loose fur on the mabari’s neck. I’m talking to a dog, Zevran would have a field day. “I really, really like her, and I want you to know that. You’ve been such a good boy, keeping her going, making her happy.” He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. For a moment his mind wandered, trying to recall how he got the lump on the back of his skull. “What I’m trying to say is that I want to make her happy, too,” he told the dog. “She’s the only good thing in all of this, and when she smiles, it’s just…” His drunken mind fumbled for the right words, then gave up. “I’m not going to take her away from you, and I’m not going to hurt her. At least, I hope not. Anything could happen and I – I can’t promise to keep her safe. But I can try, if you’ll let me.”

The mabari cocked his head, dark eyes searching, nose quivering for any trace of a lie. Intelligent enough to speak, and wise enough not to. Very slowly, with the faintest wag of his stumpy tail, he stretched out his snout and licked the seam of Alistair’s trouser leg before shifting his weight against the new, convenient meat pillow and curling up to sleep. Something creaked behind the door Alistair leaned on, which might have been a dragon or a footstep or the building settling, but, feeling sleepy, he didn’t much care. Within a moment he forgot the noise, and his snores soon joined those of the dog who had decided to call a truce.

#dragon age #alistair theirin #warden alistair #alistair x warden #alistair x cousland #cousland #barkspawn #dragon age: origins #my writing

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unluckyadept · 7 years ago

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Writer Journal Entry

//Raw notes: Timeline of the Eastern Sea portion of TLA

Presented as-is, as it was written—and forgive me, but without looking at the working timeline I have right now (and I’m a bit too lazy for that at this hour, as this is meant to be behind-the-scenes WIP anyway), I don’t know if this is part of the finalized version or not. I also don’t remember if I’ve already posted it, but I don’t think so.

//It’s taken me almost all day, and a lot of trial-and-error attempts to force the story to fit together, but I think I’ve got the Eastern Sea figured out.

One of the things I wanted to improve with IALS 2.0 is the removal of backtracking where it’s not mandated by plot. While that is how I played the game the first time, since I didn’t know where I was going and just wandered around, it doesn’t work within the narrative. (It also messes up the pacing and bores readers.)

Getting the Eastern Sea to work like that while retaining the ability to explore dungeons and get summons and Djinn without backtracking was… very tricky. To do so, I needed them to go to Apojii Islands first, which proved very hard. They subsequently had to go to Tundaria next, which was also hard to justify—the Proxans knew it was THERE, but at the time, I hadn’t given it any more importance than that.

In order to make it all work, Felix needed to know more about Tundaria Tower. I decided to resolve this by going back and having more hints and foreshadowing in Lama Temple (which isn’t too far from the Ankhol Ruins) and in Dalia—and now that I think on it, I should add some in Mikasalla as well. Felix compares tapestries, sketches, and what he sees of the Shrine of the Sea god to determine that Tundaria Tower and the Ankhol Ruins (Briggs also talked about the latter) were all built by the same culture, and thus probably all held the same purpose: guarding pieces of the Trident. Connecting the Shrine to the Ankhol will probably be done by Felix seeing some sort of symbol that he also saw Briggs or Eoleo (descendants of the Ankhol) wearing.

They go by Dalia before they even enter the ship, as Piers wants to do some sort of ritual for safe voyage, and wants to see Dalia Sanctum and the Shrine. They complete the puzzles there and get the first trident piece—Felix makes the connection to the Shrine and other places they’ve heard of, and deduces that they all have the same purpose. (This can be further cemented by having shared mythos regarding the trident throughout Champa, Dalia, and Mikasalla.)

They try to enter Lemuria, but fail to get past the currents. After they fail to even enter Lemuria, the group will travel to the Apojii Islands—Piers’s original mission was to determine the state of the world, so traveling to see Gaia Falls would make sense for him. Naturally, they’d visit Aqua Rock while they are there.

After Aqua Rock, they travel south to Tundaria. On their way back, they probably stop by Garoh for supplies—it’s a long trek in Tundaria, and I’ll take an excuse to go visit Maha again if it’s given to me. (It also serves as a good opportunity to bring up Sunshine again.)

Regardless of whether they stop in Garoh or not, they’ll travel north to Yallam. There, they meet Sunshine, and ask if he can repair the trident—and he admits that it is beyond even his capabilities, even if he had all the pieces. He does say that he’s glad that at least they gave him something interesting to look at, and takes a shine to them, mentioning he’d make something good if he had the materials. They decide to take a stop in the Taopo Swamp to get supplies, and he forges them new weapons (which they will use for much of the journey.) While in Yallam, they learn Yepp’s songs, and Piers remarks that it is a hidden key for entering Lemuria.

They travel north to try and enter Lemuria, and make it past the currents—but they are attacked by Poseidon, and nearly drown. The Jupiter Star saves the group yet again. It takes Felix longer to recover than the others, due to his previous experiences (plural) with nearly drowning to death. He has more dreams and visions in the process—which will be plaguing him throughout the story as foreshadowing to the Lighthouses and Izumo—and he gets a strong need to travel northeast to Izumo when he is recovered.

They arrive there in the autumn… probably about three years or so after Venus Lighthouse is lit—the dragon has been terrorizing Izumo for years now, and they are truly at the brink of despair. Felix rescues them and defeats the dragon, though Susa ultimately kills it. (It is noted later that Uzume predicted a great warrior would arrive and DEFEAT the dragon, everyone ASSUMED that meant SLAYING the dragon which is part of why SUSA is considered to fulfill the prophecy… though Uzume herself understands that Felix is probably the true hero of the prophecy.) They arrive back in Izumo in celebration, and explore the ruins, gaining the Summon in the process. They meet with Uzume before they leave, and the interactions there are very important for Felix. (They also get the Djinn.) Uzume gives them provisions for the journey ahead, which is something I discussed in a post earlier.

From there, they travel West, and explore the Ankhol Ruins. They then go to Champa hoping to find someone there who can reforge the Trident pieces, and learn there IS someone… and that someone is Briggs’s grandmother! Who by this time hasn’t seen Briggs in years, and Champa is on the brink of total starvation. Felix feels responsible for the situation, especially considering that he can’t even offer closure (he suspects Briggs has been executed, which gives him more nightmares) since he doesn’t know Briggs’s fate.

They travel south to Alhafra to learn of Briggs’s fate (and bring his wife and son back, as they assume he perished)—and learn that he is still alive, though his fate has been sealed. Felix is wracked with guilt about this, but isn’t permitted to see Briggs, himself. He tries to at least aid Madra by finally fixing the ship—which does earn them time with Alhafra’s mayor. Briggs, of course, escapes—and travels north.

Felix pursues him partially to resolve that chapter of his life, but primarily to seek Obaba’s aid. Their adventures in Champa eventually resolve the matter peacefully, and Obaba reforges the Trident.

With the trident in hand, they re-enter Lemuria—and barely survive the ensuing encounter with Poseidon. As much as I would like to emphasize the fact that he is a horribly hard boss that WILL just keep killing you over and over, that would get boring to readers… and besides, it can be made up for in Felix having nightmares about it throughout their travels in the Eastern Sea. ;D

Once they enter Lemuria, of course, they get the best information and guidance that they will get until they see Hama again in Contigo. I’m considering having King Hydros tell them about Shaman Village, because I don’t want to do backtracking in the Western Sea—Isaac is too close, too hot on their tail for that to work. Best they go to Hesperia first, and then (and only then) to Atteka.

#OOC #cje #unluckyadept

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summonerwithbedhair · 8 years ago

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Final Fantasy XV DLC - Predictions and Things I Want to See

(FYI - Before you read on, I'm going to get super spoilerific, so save this for later if you haven't yet finished the game.)

First, I'll state the obvious - FFXV was severely lacking in the story department, even with the supplemental material courtesy Brotherhood, Kingsglaive, and Parting Ways. As someone who typically values good storytelling before all other aspects of a video game, this is the biggest thing I feel needs fixing via the DLC.

I’ve thought about this practically non-stop since finishing the game, so I think I’ve established some pretty solid (and in one case, story-altering) theories here. I know this isn’t holy rote by any means, though, so if you have any ideas of your own, I’d love to hear them.

Here's what I'm guessing we're going to get from the three upcoming chocobro episodes:

Gladiolus

I’m fairly certain that this episode:

Occurs simultaneously with Chapter 7 of the main story (Party of Three).

Involves teaming up with Cor for a mostly fighting-based mission.

My Theory: Whatever Gladio and Cor are doing is either a personal revenge errand (perhaps to do with Gladio's father, who along with Regis, was killed by Glauca in the attack on Insomnia), some other mission Cor does not want Noctis involved in, or to retrieve or kill Calgo, the Niflheim soldier who escaped during the fort infiltration in Chapter 6.

What I Hope To Learn: More about Cor? A little more backstory concerning the Noctis/Gladio dynamic, which would help explain why Gladio in particular flips out at Noctis in Chapter 10 (it did seem rather overblown to me). Honestly Gladio doesn’t present much of a mystery to me, even though he has the least character development of all the chocobros (no real character arc here). So as long as I get to learn a bit more about the guy, I’m happy.

Questions That Will Probably Stay Unanswered: Whatever the mission, Gladio ends up sporting some hefty new scars, so unless I'm messing up the timing here, how did he heal so quickly from his injuries? Also - what book is he reading? ;)

Prompto

I’m fairly certain that this episode:

Occurs following Chapter 11, after Noctis mistakes Prompto for Ardyn and knocks him off the train.

Is a more story-based mission - obviously Prompto is going to be very tempted to shoot someone. I’m also thinking that, since Prompto isn’t the muscle of the chocobros, there’s going to be a lot of stealth involved.

My Theory: Prompto ends up on the run from Niflheim troops, trying to elude capture, all the while attempting to process why his best friend attacked him. I think the person he's aiming at in the brief preview we've had thus far is Verstael, who according to the official guide, is his biological father, and the reason Prompto has had to hide who he is for his entire life. That said, how would Prompto come to know this information? Perhaps Ardyn lets slip this info via creepy voiceover, now that Verstael is of no more use to him.

What I Hope To Learn: Much, much more about how Prompto came to escape Niflheim and avoid becoming an MT. Did he know what he was the entire time, or did he only come to grasp the full purpose of his “birthmark” after his fall from the train? How did his adoptive parents find him? Why are they never around?

Questions That Will Probably Stay Unanswered: How did Prompto become a member of the Crownsguard, especially since a) he’s not the greatest in a fight and b) he doesn’t have a long-standing “in” with the royal family the way Ignis and Gladio do? How did he prove himself? Did Noctis pull any strings? How did Ignis and Gladio come to place that much trust in him? I really want answers to these questions, but I have a feeling the DLC won’t go into this much depth.

Ignis

I’m fairly certain that this episode:

Occurs during Chapter 9, during the Leviathan covenant-gone-wrong, in which Ignis is attempting to evacuate Altissian citizens and fend off Niflheim attacks on Leviathan.

Concerns the circumstances surrounding Ignis’s injury and resulting blindness. As such, it’s probably equal parts story and combat.

Will have the most “impact” on the overall story, according to Tabata.

My Theory: I’m not sure who or what blinded Ignis, but story-wise, a person committing the act would bear much more weight than a random piece of debris. I can’t really nail down the culprit (since at that point Ravus had already decided to help Luna (and, by proxy, Noctis), and Ardyn was busy stabbing Luna at the time, unless Ignis was injured some time after Luna died and Noctis lost consciousness). I have a feeling that Ignis took the fateful hit for Gladio, which would explain why Gladio chooses to lash out at Noctis, since none of this would have happened had he been able to quell Leviathan’s wrath in time.

What I Hope To Learn: My biggest, hugest, CRAZIEST question of the whole game - did Ignis know Noctis was destined to become the true king? Maybe Regis didn’t tell him explicitly, but given Ignis’s studious, thorough nature, and the available lore, surely Ignis should have seen the pieces fitting together ahead of time. Perhaps he couldn’t predict the timing of the prophesy (given that the Niflheim attack came as a surprise to everyone in Lucis except Regis, and Noctis only needed to seek out the Armiger weapons and forge covenants with the Astrals after this point), nor that Noctis would be held captive by the crystal for ten years - but just IMAGINE the weight of that knowledge, especially when Ignis comes to realize all this is happening much faster than he had hoped. Did he keep his mouth shut at Regis’s behest, or simply to maintain his friends’ state of blissful ignorance, living without the knowledge that Noctis was destined to die? Is this the real tragedy of FFXV - the “story impact” Tabata hinted at?

Questions That Will Probably Stay Unanswered: How did Ignis become adjusted to his blindness and get back in fighting shape in the ten years Noctis was in the Crystal? Is he like Daredevil or something? Though I’d love the ability to go daemon-hunting with Iggy, Gladio and Prompto, it sounds like they didn’t hang out much after that point, and, let’s face it, playing as an injured Ignis struggling to get his groove back doesn’t scream “exciting.”

Any or All of the Above DLC

More than any other story aspect, I hope the DLC (or some other update) adds a significant amount of depth to the Noctis/Luna relationship. Is there any way Noctis can visit with her prior to the Leviathan covenant? Surely they can give us just one reunion scene? Surely there’s a purpose for this hole in the wall that leads to Luna’s quarters? Given Final Fantasy’s history of beautiful, tragic romances, I’m looking for a lot more here than I got. I can’t mourn someone I never knew, and when I’m feeling more compassion for a car than an actual character, you know there was a missed storytelling opportunity somewhere.

Then again (though I’d prefer it sooner), this could be fodder for a FFXV-2, which, given the game’s insta-success and Square Enix’s sudden fixation on FF sequels, is probably inevitable. As such, I’m going to theorize on that next, so stay tuned...

In the meantime, if you want to weigh in on any or all of the above, whether you think I’m on the right track or completely out to lunch, let me know. I’d love to bounce some ideas around somewhere other than inside my own head. ;)

#final fantasy xv #ffxv #ffxv spoilers #ffxv dlc #final fantasy #video games #noctis lucis caelum #ignis stupeo scientia #gladiolus amicitia #prompto argentum #lunafreya nox fleuret #noctis #ignis #gladio #prompto #theory #headcanon #chocobros #dlc

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thethirstynoona · 8 years ago

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Monster - Chapter 6

That damned tie. An item reminiscent of your grandmother’s curtains – taupe with cascades of lavender and gold kaleidoscope patterns – was now wrapped around your neck as you struggled for breath while this shadow of a once-charming man rode you into submission.

Category: Angst/Smut/Breathplay/Voyeurism Word Count: 4,879 Group/Members: EXO/Baekhyun ft. Chanyeol

Chapter 5 | Chapter 7

“Y/N? Do you intend on joining the meeting?” a shrill voice said, causing your head to pop up in fright. It was your boss, Kris, asking if you were ready for the presentation that was – well, that had started ten minutes ago. You hastily wiped your keyboard clean of your midmorning drool before grabbing your laptop and joining him.

“I’m so sorry, sir. I-I didn’t have a great night’s sleep. I promise it’ll never happen again– “ you stammered whilst jogging down the hallway. Kris seemed unfazed by your morning nap and grinned through his teeth as he pushed you into the conference room.

After landing the contract and leaving the meeting, you walked out of the area to find Kris waiting for you around the corner. His former bright expression had been exchanged for one airing more taciturn than friendly. You knew to be suspicious of his odd behavior after he caught you sleeping on the job, but at the time, nailing that presentation was everything.

“Y/N, I appreciate the fact that you are here thirty minutes early every day and stay at least an hour past your end time, but I cannot allow such disrespect for company policies. You are a VP at this company and you need to act like it. Imagine Siwon’s assistant had walked by your office while you were busy snoozing away on company time – you wouldn’t have a job anymore,” Kris reproached, lecturing you on the importance of setting a good example for the rest of the staff. He was technically your boss, but you knew for a fact that he was only a Senior VP and was very intimidated by you. If you hadn’t started dating Baekhyun, you probably would have been his superior by now.

“Kris, I’m sorry. Like you said – in your own words – I am a diligent worker and here much more than I should be, despite the fact that I don’t get paid overtime to be here. I had one rough night that led to me dozing off for a few minutes; though, let’s not forget that I just landed us an account for $18 million. So, yeah, I’m sorry that I’m setting such a poor example for the rest of the staff. I’m sure the CEO would love to hear about the terrible work I’m doing for the company,” you rebuked, livid at the fact that he felt the need to point out the one time you made a mistake. The last weekend had shortened your temper quite a bit, and your nitpicky boss wasn’t someone with whom you wanted to deal after such an experience.

Kris stared at you incredulously – you knew it wasn’t the best reaction and that he would remember everything you had just said. Prepared to walk on eggshells for the next few months, you turned towards the direction of your office and left the conversation. Upon returning to your office, you saw a potted orchid with a note attached to the stem. You were hesitant to open the small envelope for fear of more confusion behind this illusive boyfriend of yours. Knowing curiosity would get the better of you at some point, you brashly grabbed the note and read it.

“Roses are red, violets are blue. I can’t wait ‘til tonight; to go to Chanyeol’s with you. Hope you’ve had a great start to the week! If not, hopefully this beautiful flower will brighten up your day (and your office). Meet me at Chanyeol’s tonight for dinner – I’d like to put the past behind us and move forward. -BBH”

You sighed in relief to have a note from the lighter side of Baekhyun. He always had a knack for matching flowers to your emotions, which was part of the reason you had started falling for him – his attunement to your aura was undeniably on point. Smiling a grin goofy enough for the man himself, you decided to send a quick text to Baekhyun to thank him and confirm your date.

You: “Thank you so much for the orchid, I love it! What time should I meet you at Chanyeol’s?”

BaeBae: “I only choose flowers worthy of your beauty and spirit, Jagi. What time are you off work?”

You: “I should be off sometime between 5:00 and 6:00.”

BaeBae: “7:00 it is, then. Would you like me to send you a car?”

You: “You don’t need to do that J. I can call an Uber.”

BaeBae:

“Okay… ;) I’ll see you tonight!”

You: “Can’t wait!”

Remembering that you had set up happy hour with Kay after work, you decided to see if she was available for lunch instead.

You: “Hey sorry, Baek wants to have dinner tonight – are you free for lunch?”

Kay: “OMG I have so much to tell you. But yes, let’s do lunch. And how awesome for you and Baek! Can’t wait to hear all about it. Usual time/place?”

You: “The usual. See you in 30.”

Kay was already seated by the time you got to the restaurant. It was a seedy rotisserie sushi place that the two of you frequented during your first job in Seoul, but at the time it was the only thing you could afford and since then it had become a safe haven for your friendship and your best-kept secret meeting place. You both hugged and exchanged quick greetings before she vomited her problems onto your lap.

“Seriously, Y/N, he says he doesn’t even want to get a ‘real’ job. He says he’s content working at the nightclub in Gangnam. I don’t know what to do!” she cried, utterly exasperated that her recently graduated younger brother wouldn’t get serious with his life. His name was Jongin, but she and everyone he knew called him Kai.

Her brother had just finished his degree in teaching, but was apparently more interested in working as a dancer at the most popular club in the city. You did your best to console her about his lack of direction.

“It’s probably just a phase. I mean, we all have them in our lives – at least he’s taking care of it now, while he’s young –“ you reasoned before Kay cut you off.

“Y/N, he’s two years younger than us,” she retorted crudely before continuing, “He took a year off to pursue dancing. When my parents forced him to finally return to school, I thought he’d get over this phase. Apparently, he didn’t. I want him to follow his heart, I really do, but he keeps saying that he’s going to be picked up by one of those entertainment companies. He’s completely delusional!”

You weren’t sure how to calm her – being an only child made it hard for you to empathize with her plight. It seemed like she was mainly venting, because from previous conversations you knew her parents gave ample amounts of pressure for their children to succeed – at least they did to Kay.

“Well, when do I get to meet this delusional brother of yours?” you asked, trying to break the tension. She sighed and answered, “Well, he sleeps the majority of the day because he works all night. I want you to meet him – you guys are actually really similar. I’m just not sure when… Enough about my stuff though, tell me how it’s going between you and Baek!”

Once she changed the subject, it was clear she didn’t want to bring up Kai again. You finished lunch talking about the refined and funny side of Baekhyun, only hinting that he was a little quirky in the bedroom. Kay was sure to protest of you dating him if she knew of your last encounter, and deep down, despite his cruel behavior, Baekhyun was an oddity that intrigued your very being. You weren’t about to let him go so easily.

It was 5:15 pm and you decided to catch a quick cab back home from work as opposed to walking – you wanted as much time to refresh as possible. The short ride made you think about your lunchtime chat with Kay and how her brother was persistent in following his heart. It made you wonder what your heart was telling you. Normally you were the type to forge ahead with what your instincts told you were right – but being that your instincts were comprised of your heart and your head, you didn’t know how to proceed, even though you had already given him a decision. Was that it, then? Had you followed your instincts when you told Baekhyun you were in? Hearing yourself conceal the full truth from Kay had you rethinking your choice.

You walked into your apartment to find two things: a small, rectangular box with a black bow, and the mess from the shattered vase gone. There was a note on your fridge from the cleaning lady indicating her disdain for the amount you paid her versus the things she had to clean. You quickly jotted a note onto your calendar for the following cleaning visit to leave her a tip – in your hurry to get to work on time you had forgotten that she was coming to clean when there was glass all over the floor. The more peculiar item was the gift, which also had its own note. Trying to refrain from jumping to conclusions, you opened it.

“I’d really like it if you wore this tonight. -BBH”

You were relieved to find that of all the gifts you’d received in the past six months, this one came with a mention of the sender. You quickly opened the decorated box only to be downright bewildered by the garment that peered back at you. Baekhyun had given you what looked to be a small piece of lace – it was a barely-there teddy, black with floral designs and a multitude of cutouts. Unsure whether to be embarrassed or aroused, you smirked and decided to go with the latter.

Looking in the mirror you had to stifle your laugh. After putting on the delicate item – which fit like it was custom tailored for you – it was clear that Baekhyun’s favorite part of your body were your breasts. The teddy had a bra-like top, but where the cup should have been was missing, leaving your breasts on full display; however, they were given ample support by the underwire at the base of the top portion. The midsection covered the most, leaving a sheer veil of skin peeping through the small eyelets that led down to a couple of small ties at your hipbones. The bottom portion was crotchless and assless, the fabric covering only your outer lips and working its way around your butt to meet up to the mesh on your back, holding everything together. You decided to put on a pair of kitten heels to make it seem that much more amusing, as you pretended to be a Victoria’s Secret model and posed in front of your mirror.

Before you could look for something else to wear, your doorbell rang. You ran to the door, grabbing your white trench coat to cover you. It was Baekhyun’s personal driver, ready to take you straight to Chanyeol’s house. You should have known that Baekhyun wouldn’t have let you take an Uber.

“Just give me one minute, I need to –“ you began, making your way back into your apartment to find more clothing. Baek’s driver grabbed your arm and pulled you into the hallway, refusing your polite decline.

“Mr. Byun gave me strict instructions to have you there at 7:00 pm sharp,” he commanded once by the car. He opened your door and gestured you inside. Looking at the clock, you wondered just how much time you were playing supermodel while in your new lingerie. It was 6:45 pm.

It was 7:15 by the time you arrived at Chanyeol’s apartment building – the traffic felt almost worse than normal for a Monday evening. Distracted by your tardiness, you had completely forgotten that you weren’t wearing much clothing until you had entered Chanyeol’s pad and Baekhyun was attempting to take your coat.

“Jagi, that’s okay, I’ll keep it on. I’m a little cold,” you lied in an octave higher than your normal voice. Baekhyun cocked his head, squinted his eyes, and reached his hand under your coat, his mouth turning up in the corners when he realized what you were hiding beneath it. He coyly removed his hand from your hip and brought it up to your cheek. His thumb brushed your face gently as he leaned in for a kiss. It had felt like a lifetime had passed since Baekhyun’s soft lips caressed yours. His kiss was playful and delicate, sliding in a nibble on your lips here and there. You were falling in love with Byun Baekhyun.

“Dinner’s ready,” Chanyeol interrupted, guiding you into the dining area. The table was set with three place settings; two large bowls with lids, and two bottles of wine. Baekhyun helped you into your chair while Chanyeol removed the lid from the first bowl and began serving a bright arugula salad with a vinaigrette dressing.

Dinner was silent for the first course; the only verbal communication was to ask if you needed more wine. The tension in the room was far too palpable for anyone to bear. You were dating Baekhyun – falling in love even – and yet the man hosting this dinner had been the only person in the room with whom you’d had intercourse. To make matters worse, everyone at the table knew about it. You were trying to think of something to break the ice while Chanyeol was serving the second course – an eggplant triangoli pasta with mascarpone and pesto – until you felt a warm hand creep up your thigh.

Your breath hitched as Baekhyun’s fingers found the little bit of lace around your sex. His hand prevented the closure of your thighs as he poured another glass of wine with his free hand.

“Say, Chan, isn’t your brother’s birthday approaching soon?” Baekhyun casually said as his fingers penetrated the rapidly dampening cloth. Chanyeol finished serving and sat down, looking to the ceiling as if deep in thought.

“Oh shit, you’re right. Suho’s birthday is next weekend! I’m such a nimrod, I totally forgot. I’ll probably buy him a watch this week…” Chanyeol trailed off, going deeper into thought as to what he was going to get his brother as a gift. Meanwhile, Baekhyun’s fingers had found your clit and began swiveling on it as your inner thighs became strangers and widened so they were parallel. You could feel your essence dribbling out of your core, and the maneuvers of Baekhyun’s digits left you focused on keeping as straight of a face as possible. Your body twitched involuntarily, which caught Chanyeol’s attention. From what he could tell, you looked rather sick, white-knuckling your fork in one hand and attempting to break the wine glass in the other, your eyes glued to the food on your plate.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Chanyeol asked politely. It didn’t take long for him to realize what was going on, taking a quick glance under the table to check if his suspicions were right. Baekhyun’s eyes darkened as he glared at Chanyeol, not stopping his ministrations as you began to approach your climax.

“So this is happening?” Chanyeol said to Baekhyun, staring him down. Baekhyun plunged his fingers deep into your sex, stimulating a loud moan from you. Neither of them looked in your direction, still sizing up each other.

“Yes…it is. Prepare for dessert, Chanyeol,” Baekhyun commanded, removing his touch from your body at the cusp of your release. He stood up to help Chanyeol remove the dinnerware from the table. Attempting to catch your breath and control your incited confusion, you closed your legs and avoided their gaze. You saw from your peripheral vision that Chanyeol had gone upstairs, carrying something in each hand.

“Baekhyun, what’s going on?” you asked, voice shaking from the fury growing in your body. All you could think was that they were both involved on what was about to happen, and this thought of being used not just by an arrogant fuckboy, but also by the man with whom you were falling in love sent you into overdrive. You shut your eyes and attempted to control your breathing. Baekhyun grabbed your chin, causing your eyes to brazenly reopen.

“Go upstairs and I’ll tell you. We need to have dessert,” he said, struggling between sweet and forceful. It was evident that Baekhyun was having an inner struggle as well; you just wish you knew with what. Hoping that whatever he had planned would put the past where it belonged so the two of you could move forward, you walked upstairs to the lavish bedroom of your host.

The entire second floor was Chanyeol’s bedroom. A glass barrier acted as the railing for you to look over into the kitchen from the edge of his room. The area was broken into two parts – a quaint sitting area with a coffee table and bathroom, and an area housing Chanyeol’s bed. There was a dividing wall between them, with an impressive fishtank built-in, providing light for both sides. Upstairs still boasted the floor-to-ceiling windows, but the right side with Chanyeol’s bed housed window seating. The color scheme was similar to downstairs, dark walls and floors, but the ceiling was white, making the room appear that much larger.

Chanyeol had just finished with something on the other side of the bed. Baekhyun nudged you in his direction, and you walked to the edge. Before sitting down, you noticed the floor-to-ceiling mirror on the wall opposite the foot of the king size bed. You shook your head, thinking to yourself; of course Chanyeol would have a mirror right next to his bed. Baekhyun snaked his arms under yours and began undoing the buttons on your coat. Unable to fight him, it wasn’t long before you were standing in the inch of fabric you’d received just a few hours earlier. You were quick to cover your breasts with your hands, sitting down on the bed to cover your bare bottom.

“You wanted to know what’s going on?” Baekhyun sneered, his sweet demeanor completely vacant from his tone. You looked at him, aware of his ire, and nodded.

“Somewhere along this relationship, you thought it would be a good idea to fuck my cousin. I’ve already explained to you that I’m not like other guys – if I was, I wouldn’t have continued speaking to you. I can’t fight my feelings for you, so I’ve had to think of an alternative. Punishment seems fair to me. I want to punish you to the point where you don’t even think of anyone else,” he coarsely explained before continuing, “I’ll give you one more chance. You can leave now and I’ll never insert myself into your life again, or you can stay here and face your punishment.”

What were your instincts telling you? Your heart had already made its choice, but your head kept telling you to run. You glanced at Chanyeol to see the same confliction on his face, realizing then that he wasn’t the bigger man between them – Baekhyun had always been the alpha male. I like to see you in physical pain – it gets me off. His words were echoing in your head, but your heart kept telling you that your head was wrong. You stood up from the bed and put your arms to your sides, informing Baekhyun of your choice. Chanyeol shook his head and walked to your side.

“Restrain her,” Baekhyun directed. The next thing you knew, you were laying in the center of Chanyeol’s bed, handcuffed to the modern ebony backboard and ankles tied to the sides of the bed, exposing your flexibility with an almost full split. You had no idea what was to come, but at the same time you were slightly aroused by the way you were being controlled – and your body was giving you away. Baekhyun swiped his finger on your dripping essence and tasted it. He looked at you and shook his head.

“The first thing to know about this penance is that your orgasm belongs to me – I’ll decide when you can have it. Once I feel that retribution is met, only then will you be allowed your release,” he disparaged, stepping away from your stretched body. He looked down at you with vacant eyes and then to Chanyeol, nodding at him. You felt Chanyeol wrap a textured fabric around your neck and tie it snugly.

Baekhyun hiked up his trousers to begin his crawl onto your body, stopping when his knees were level with your hips. An evil smirk possessed his boyish face, and he raised an eyebrow while reaching to the noose. Tugging on it gently to pull your torso to him, you noticed the familiarity in the grotesque fabric – Grandpa Byun’s hideous hand-me-down. That damned tie.

Baekhyun tightened the noose around your neck, restricting your air supply. He planted a firm grasp on your chin, squeezing your lips into a pucker. Turning your face to the bedside table, Baekhyun brought your attention to an array of traditional dessert items – whipped cream, honey, strawberries, and champagne.

“Can you guess what we’re having for dessert, princess?” he leered, motioning to Chanyeol to open the champagne. Baekhyun stood up on the bed, hovering over you and not letting go of your leash. Chanyeol handed him a glass of the bubbly liquid, and he readjusted his grip on your neck tether, pulling your body higher and forcing your face to the ceiling. Chanyeol shook the can of whipped cream and smirked.

“We’re having you. Cheers,” Baekhyun belittled, pouring the champagne onto your open mouth and face. The fizzy liquid trickled down your neck to your perked nipples; a slick sheen agleam on your chest as it rose and fell with each of your fragmented breaths. Baekhyun released his hold on the necktie, allowing your body to fall back to the Egyptian cotton. He hopped off the bed, poured himself a glass and downed it in one fell swoop.

The burden of the snare was manageable when out of Baekhyun’s hand. Turning to him, you watched as he bit into the engorged fruit, wiping his lips with a delicate finger. His sensuality was overpowering your senses, teasing you – before you knew it your bottom lip was trapped between your teeth and you were gyrating slow body rolls, imagining your sweet cunt was the object of his mastication. He noticed your movements and reached a juicy digit to your lips; your tongue tickled the tip till your puckered lips closed around it and you worked them to the base. Baekhyun merely smirked at your need, his wry grin transforming into a malicious smile as the feeling of Chanyeol’s cold tongue met your folds, interrupting your delusion.

“You want me to fuck you…don’t you, princess?” Baekhyun hissed, watching Chanyeol burrow his face into your sex, his head disappearing between your legs.

“I’ve wanted that for – fuck – for so long, Baek,” you replied, fighting the building knot in your core. Chanyeol had never eaten you out like this before – he was aggressive with his teeth, sucking viciously on your lips and clit. The titillations of his excitable licks were spurring your climax’s early arrival. You weren’t sure what would happen if you came if Baekhyun hadn’t allowed it, but you were certain you didn’t want to find out – you closed your eyes and tried to focus on anything de-stimulating.

“Y/N, look at me,” Baekhyun bellicosely commanded, the fire in his eyes burning through you. “First – you need to make up for your transgressions. If you want me to fuck you, I have three conditions.”

He paused, watching your body twitch in silence. Chanyeol’s tongue had worked magic on your body and Houdinied itself to the tenderest of areas, causing your body to surrender to your release. Staring down Baekhyun, you refused to make a single sound. Your tortured gaze instigated a shift in his energy – his wrath was subsiding. Tears began to well in your eyes, the blind stubbornness of your quandary refusing to give in to the pleasure waves flowing through your body. Baekhyun’s features softened before he spoke again.

“First condition – until I state otherwise, you are to refer to me as ‘sir’ or ‘daddy’ from this moment on. If I so much as hear you say my name or any version of it, I will continue this wretched game until you say mercy. Second condition – which I had stated earlier – you are not permitted to orgasm without my consent.”

He lingered on his last statement, turning his head to glower at himself in the mirror. Baekhyun didn’t shift his position, even as Chanyeol walked past him to grab a glass of champagne. The inner monologue was almost loud enough to hear – Baekhyun was conflicted. Minutes passed and Baekhyun’s eyes were still glued to his reflection. Chanyeol was getting impatient.

“Baek, what the fuck? You said this was going to happen, so let’s get your fucked-up revenge going so I can shower and go to bed,” he bellowed, interrupting Baekhyun’s staring contest. Baekhyun turned his head towards Chanyeol eerily slow; his eyes following only after his face had reached its destination. His energy resembled a vacuum – sucking any and all emotion from the room as his death glare visually shook Chanyeol.

“Then consider it over and done with. I’m going to borrow your condo for the night – the keys to my place are on your counter. Leave us,” he barked, leaving no room for argument. Chanyeol, like a dog with his tail between his legs, sauntered downstairs. The only sounds you heard before he took his leave were those of jingling keys and the chime of the elevator. The thick silence deafened the room. Baekhyun walked to the foot of the bed and took in your exposed position. He sighed deeply and began removing his shirt.

“My third condition…” he started, pulling off his burgundy silk button-up one arm at a time, revealing his perfect abdomen. This was the first time you had actually seen him shirtless – he was a paragon of the male species.

“Even though you’ve already broken my first two conditions…” he continued, unbuckling his Tom Ford belt and haphazardly tossing it to the floor. His pants were next to be purged from his body; he slid them down to unveil the Calvin Klein boxer-briefs hugging his permeating bulge. Your heartbeat quickened with each eradicated garment.

“Just meet my third condition, and I’ll fuck you until you’re numb,” he finished, palming his growing girth through the black fabric. Baekhyun looked desolate as his eyes met yours, his confliction defeated by his anguish. In that moment, your guilt overcame your emotions. Baekhyun may have had his fare share of problems, but he didn’t deserve the things you had done to him. You were falling for this baffling man, and the only thing you wanted was for him to know it.

“I don’t want you to fuck me, Baekhyun,” you retorted, queuing the bewilderment in his expression before you continued, “I want you to make love to me.”

In an instant, Baekhyun was on top of you, his lips melded to yours in a deeply passionate kiss. You didn’t know if the hot tears belonged to you or him, but it didn’t matter. His hands traced over your wanton body, memorizing every curve. Somehow his last surviving clothing item had absolved itself from his body, since you felt the tip of his throbbing member trace your entrance.

His hands clasped themselves onto your nipped knockers, squeezing tightly as his firm length grazed your walls, letting you adjust to his size before he began his assertive thrusts into your sex. Your heat was intoxicating Baekhyun’s carnal nature as his hands found the latent tie once more. He pulled tight, bringing your torso close to his; adjusting the rein in one hand and securing the other firmly around your neck, he pumped his hips faster against your dripping core, slamming into you with each inward motion.

His fingers dug into the delicate skin of your neck, bordering the line of pain and pleasure auspiciously. When your breathing slowed, his pressure loosened, mixing the light headed feeling with the vibrations of gratification through your body. Every time you thought you were going to lose consciousness, a jolt of pleasure reanimated your frame. Incoherent combinations of moans, mewls, and rattles emanated from your existence while Baekhyun’s tactical cock ruined any former experience of release. You came not once, not twice, but three times under his control before he let his orgasm fill you.

Before collapsing onto your bosoms, Baekhyun freed your hands from the cuffs. As you caught your breath, he rested his head on your bare chest, listening to your heartbeat. You ran your fingers through his raven hair, ignoring the last call for sleep.

“Y/N, I love you,” he whispered before surrendering to the facets of sleep. A weak smile brightened your expression as you held him tight and joined him in the dream world.

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