#also enjoy his clocktower cover of course

[starfall-calamity]

HEAL HEAL HEAL HEAL HEAL HEAL HEAL HEAL HEAL HEAL HEAL HEAL HEAL HEAL HEAL HEAL HEAL HEAL HEAL HEAL HEAL HEAL HEAL HEAL HEAL HEAL HEAL HEAL HEAL HEAL HEAL HEAL HEAL HEAL HEAL

[bubblegumbeech]

The Losing Move

Day two Ectoberhaunt:  Scream vs Laugh

AO3

It started with a scream. That’s how Clockwork knew it was finally time. 

He hesitated, of course. There was so much to lose, so much still uncertain, paths branching in different directions, moments shrouded imperfectly from his view, strings of fate tangled and misused. But he was the Master of Time. He could hesitate and no one would ever know. 

Not even them. 

Clockwork made a portal, leaving his Clocktower and walking towards a tall grey rock almost as old as time itself, weathered by age and nothing like the statue it had once been standing proud in a garden of overgrown thorns and long dead leaves. Nocturn appeared next to him, a swirl of inky black void scattered with stars and nebulae. 

“Did you hesitate?” he asked. 

It was a valid question. An important one too, if they were to succeed. Clockwork’s hesitation could lead to an uncertain future, to a failure in their plot. And then they would be lost, set back hundreds of thousands of years again. 

“No.”

Nocturn accepted his answer. Perhaps he knew that Clockwork was lying, perhaps he did not. Either way, they both turned to the stone. 

It wasn’t long before the others appeared. 

Misery Vex was the first, then Sojourn, on and on until they all stood, surrounding the stone. 

Misery turned to Clockwork. “Did it take?” she asked, and he flew forward, taking off one of his gloves to run his hand along the smoothed side of the rock. It hummed, an energy unlike any else, unique to here yet everywhere and nowhere at all. Very chaotic indeed. 

“It has.”

She hummed an affirmative, linking her hand in his before reaching out to take Sojourn’s. Clockwork reached for Nocturn and as they all linked together they formed a shield, thick and impenetrable between their varied talents, around the stone. 

“How long will this take,” Vortex said, ever the impatient one. He was jittery, yellow cords of lightning constantly jumping all over him in a nervous jumble, branching in and out of each other like writhing snakes. 

Clockwork sighed. “Not long.”

“You musn’t get too close,” Misery warned.

“I know.”

“You musn’t go too far,” Nocturn reminded him. 

He knew that too. 

“You’ve failed before,” Misery said, her voice steady and calm. She was not wrong, nor accusatory. He had faltered, it had led to a less than ideal outcome. He would not admit this. 

Clockwork didn’t allow any emotion on his face. “The threat is contained. My faults did not lead to the failure of our mission.”

She scoffed. “No, only to ‘inconvenience’. Right?”

As far as she knew. As far as any of them did. They relied on him, to determine if their future would be a success. He was the only one who could see which path to take, what choices would lead to their victory. He was the only one who knew just how thin the chance was, how precarious the choice. It would not benefit them to know. He did not need their doubt.

“Who was it?” Sojourn asked, referring to the scream that had summoned them here. The scream that had echoed hauntingly throughout the entirety of the Infinite Realms. 

Clockwork hadn’t looked. He looked now. 

“A boy, fourteen years old, between child and adult, between living and dead, between here and there.” 

Nocturn smiled, “How fitting.”

The stone shattered. Power and chaos, magic and will swirled around in a tornado, beating against the solid weight of their shield and making what was once so obviously strong seem weak and pitiful in comparison. 

Vortex’s eyes glowed in excitement. It was a sign, they all knew, that things were getting close. 

Eventually the storm faded and all that was left was a weathered pile of ash and rubble where there had once been a stone, where there had once been a statue, where there had once been nothing at all. 

It would come to nothing once more. 

Soon.

  The Infinite Realms had been lifeless for so long. Nothing more than ambient ectoplasm and void. A place. Nothing more and nothing less than it had to be. Many of the denizens had never seen them alive, existing as they once had. The panic was only natural. The frenzy, exciting and new. The heart of it all beating again. 

There was one ghost in particular, of course, who had only known the realms as they existed now. Sure there might also be others, newly made and newly dead, but this one was the important one. He’d been the one to give his life for the life around them now. 

Or at least, he’d given half of it. 

The Observants, of course, were furious. 

They had attempted to hunt down the Ancients, knowing it was they who had done this, who had planned this and then hidden it from the view of those who watch. Vortex had been taken first, as expected, and Undergrowth had fled to the mortal realm. The others also split, the time for them to come together was over; the time to prepare for the end was nearing. 

Clockwork, of course, their ever loyal subservient pet that could not leave his tower without their knowledge, that could not use his power without their permission, he’d never been looked at twice.

“You told us the threat was neutralized.” Nocturn said, sliding up next to one of Clockwork’s monitors. He watched a scene, where Daniel and Pariah fought. It was not a real fight, of course. Pariah had long shed the haze of bloodlust that had driven him mad, and was now attempting to be endearing, to rebuild a trust Clockwork had never actually had in him. 

Clockwork took a sip of his tea. It was made from some of Pariah’s newly grown coraleander leaves and made a thick, murky green tea that Clockwork quite enjoyed the taste and texture of. Unfortunately that was exactly why Pariah had grown them, and while Clockwork had snuck them away like a petty thief, he doubted that the missing leaves had gone even a moment unnoticed. 

It was infuriating and Clockwork sipped at it slowly, savoring it’s warmth.

“He is no longer the King. In fact, there is no King at all, just as I said it would be.”

Nocturn turned to meet his eyes, tilting his head just slightly in suspicion. “Yes, you did. Though I suppose the others thought you meant he would not escape his sleep. Or at least, that he would not escape his sleep until after .”

Clockwork looked away, towards the monitor. Pariah had soundly defeated Daniel and was laughing. Likely at the way the poor boy looked, his hair a mess and covered in the very coraleander leaves Clockwork was drinking. He’d need to wash them off before he transformed back into a human. While they wouldn’t be immediately deadly to a Half-Ghost, they would form a large, hard to explain, rash. 

“That wasn’t what I said though, was it?” Clockwork met Nocturn’s eyes once more. 

The other ghost just snorted and shook his head. “No, no I guess it wasn’t. Clockwork, the tightrope you’re walking, that future you see that you haven’t told us about? I really hope you get it. I do. Because the brightest lights cast the darkest shadows and I can’t imagine what would happen if you missed.”

Clockwork’s tea had gone cold. He continued to sip it. He ignored Nocturn’s words and he watched the screen as Pariah helped Daniel stand, only for Daniel to tackle him when he wasn’t expecting it. 

“I’ll take that under consideration.” 

It was becoming habit, he found, to lie to Nocturn. 

  Daniel was at the Clocktower, eating a plate of cookies and complaining about some of the varied ghosts he had to deal with and fight on a regular basis in his mortal realm. It was a side effect, of course, of Phantom’s new role as the Heart of The Infinite Realms. The smaller, weaker ghosts, especially younger and newly dead ones, had attempted to flee the Realms when they noticed the sudden changes. 

When the Observants had become so busy trying to find the cause of the change, so busy trying to hunt down what was left of Chaos’ children, that they could no longer micro-manage the state of the Realms. Could no longer constantly overstep their authority and keep their tasteless ‘Order’. 

The Realms had become more and more lively and Clockwork had found himself in a perpetual good mood. He took a cookie for himself. Nocturn caught him baking the other day; his expression had been dry as he congratulated Clockwork on his adoption. It was  a pointed accusation. 

He had shoved it to the back of his mind and decided to make some forgoent tea to go with the cookies. He hadn’t offered any to Nocturn. 

Daniel paused in his musings for a moment before speaking again, his voice careful. “I’ve been visiting Pariah.”

Clockwork hummed, not looking away from his screens. “I am aware.”

“Of course you are.” Daniel rolled his eyes. Then he sighed like he didn't know how to bring up what he was going to say next. “Did you… Did you know he was going to get free if you sent me after that key?” 

Ah, so he’d figured it out then. “It was a possibility. Each and every choice you make creates an entirely new future with entirely new consequences.” 

“He doesn’t seem all that bad…” Daniel argued, as if Clockwork was going to disagree with him. Clockwork raised an eyebrow, the one with the scar Pariah had given him, and looked over to him. “I mean, he just. When he first woke up he was really mad right? But like, I’d also be really mad if I finally woke up from a forced coma only to have Vlad there.”

Anyone would really. 

“And even though he sucked Amity Park into the Ghost Zone, no one actually ended up getting hurt. At least, no more than usual in a ghost attack. And I’ve been talking with the other ghosts that have been ‘Challenging’ him and they all say he's a pretty cool teacher… Like, he knows how to fight and he’s good at showing them how they can use their unique powers-”

Clockwork didn’t interrupt Daniel as he rambled. It was rare, at least since he’d been deposed, to hear lists of Pariah’s more positive aspects. It wasn’t uncomfortable so much as mildly frustrating. Was this part of Pariah’s ploy? Get Daniel to fall all over himself to recite poetics about Pariah to Clockwork. He should have learned by now that whatever affection he might hold for him, it would not be enough. Not to stop his plans, and certainly not to stop the others.

“So uh, you know, he seems… chiller. Without the crown and ring and stuff.”

“Yes, it was the Ring of Rage Daniel, what did you think it was used for?” 

There was a small imperceptible shift in Daniel’s expression, as if he’d realized something and made the choice to file the knowledge away for later. He must have learned that from Pariah as well. “So, if there’s things that can change even powerful ghosts like Pariah, are there things that could change, say… one of the Ancients?”

Was Daniel befriending another Ancient? Clockwork smiled, that was good then. He could hold that against them, the weight of his failure to keep an emotional distance wouldn’t be as stark, if another Ancient or two fell just as easily to Daniel’s pleasant company. He could use that, he simply had to find out which of them it was. Perhaps Sojourn? He was always soft for children, but Clockwork hadn’t been aware of him returning to the Barrens lately, and Daniel rarely went any further than the Time Locked Lands or the Far Frozen. 

“It is good to befriend others Daniel,” he says halfheartedly, searching through his mirrors to locate Sojourn, “but remember not to trust too easily. You never know the goals of those around you, if they might be using you towards their own ends.”

“Of course,” Daniel replied, his voice hard. 

Clockwork looked over to him, he was staring at the dregs of his tea, expression dark. 

“Would you like more tea?” Clockwork offered, wondering what had plummeted the boy’s attitude so suddenly. 

Daniel looked up, a small smile on his lips, “Yes Please.”

Clockwork left to make more, his mind still trying to find which Ancient Daniel had befriended. 

  “The Observants are completely ignorant of your machinations,” Pariah said as Clockwork entered his study. “Of course, they don’t know you as well as they think.”

Clockwork should stop visiting him. Should never have started, a fact that Nocturn was only too happy to remind him of. Sometimes Clockwork wondered if Nocturn got his taste of Chaos from Clockwork's mistakes, he seemed so dedicated to reveling in them. 

“I didn’t come here to talk about the Observants. I have my fill without the need to remark upon them when absent from their presence.” Clockwork was scowling. He could hide his irritation, but despite his lies and trickery he was hardly an accomplished actor. 

Pariah chuckled, flipping another page in the thick book he’d been reading. The title was faded, but Clockwork recognized it easily enough. It was a detailed history of the Infinite Realms after King Dark had been sealed away. It was a long history, though not as long as the history that came before his reign entirely. 

It was also the exact kind of thing Pariah would read cover to cover, like the obsessive monster he was. 

“I suppose you came to warn me away from your ward then?” Pariah asked, his voice casual. Clockwork scoffed, allowing a roll of his eyes before floating over to Pariah’s shelves and grabbing one of the books that looked recently used. It was about old soul binding rituals, much like what had happened to Fright Knight. It was amusing, the thought that Pariah’s oldest friend might still be whining about his little curse. 

“Hardly,” Clockwork said, idly flipping through the pages, “if I could control Daniel I never would have let him near you to begin with.”

Pariah smiled, placing his own book down. “Yes, I imagine you wouldn’t have. It would be a mistake to let me get close to him and realize he is the reason the Infinite Realms have started to sing.”

He’d figured it out then. Of course that wasn’t entirely out of the realm of possibility. Unlike the Observants, Pariah was wickedly intelligent and fully capable of coming to the appropriate conclusions. “Sing? An interesting way to describe it.”

Arms encircled his waist and Clockwork was pulled back into a warm chest. Pariah’s chin rested on Clockwork’s shoulder as he spoke softly into his ear. “Is it enough? The realms feel alive, weaker ghosts are fleeing or banding together once more. It resembles the time we once had, between Chaos and Order. Will you stop here?”

“There’s nothing more I can do,” he lied. 

Pariah hummed an agreement and reached out to flip a few pages through the book Clockwork had been holding. There was a beautifully illustrated drawing of a necklace, bewitched and layered in curses. Pariah must have memorized the pages, of course. “Would you wear jewelry if I made it for you? I would see you decked in gold and finery if I could.”

Clockwork slammed the book closed, just missing Pariah’s fingers. He didn’t think about the earrings Pariah had once gifted him, or how he wore them even now, dangling hidden beneath his hood. “You should know better than to ask that.” 

He felt a smile against his neck. “Then I won’t ask.”

  He held the Thermos in his hand. 

The other Daniel was a menace, truly. But he would not be so desperate to ruin Daniel’s life anymore. It had been long enough for him to realize that his existence was no longer predicated on Daniel’s decisions, or on the loss of his family. 

It would change him, of course. The knowledge that he exists in the same time as his once family will either soften his grief, or sharpen its edges. There were so many paths he could take, and Clockwork could not see them all, did not bother to look much further than the distance he needed him for. 

There was something more important than his grief that he and Clockwork had in common. Something Daniel and Pariah likely had in common with them as well: the detestation of the Observants. 

Clockwork opened the thermos, releasing Daniel’s worst nightmare and not thinking about how the young half-ghost had given it to him so easily, had trusted him so quickly when all Clockwork had done was protect his human family one time. 

The other, once possible, Daniel appeared in an explosion of light and matter and immediately attacked, using his claws to scratch at Clockwork’s face. He was prepared for that though, years trapped in a thermos had eroded much of Dan’s more refined aspects. It would work in Clockworks favor of course, he had made sure of that.

For now, Clockwork froze time and moved behind him. That way his wild attack would meet nothing but ambient ectoplasm and Clockwork could speak his piece. Provided his piece took less than a second to speak.

He allowed time to flow and watched as the other Daniel floundered, confused, only to instantly realize just what Clockwork had done and turn around, ready to attack once more. Clockwork smiled as their eyes met and asked, “Would you like to End the Observants and their Order?”

the other Daniel attacked him, but Clockwork could see the consideration in his eyes. The thought had been implanted, now all he had to do was sit back and watch. the other Daniel had always been rather good at ruining things after all. 

“CLOCKWORK!” Daniel yelled, flying frantically into the Clocktower. “Clockwork Dan escaped somehow! He attacked Amity Park!” 

His desperate flight slowed when he saw Clockwork floating casually at his screens as he always had. He was watching a specific screen now, and pulled the image onto the largest one to share with Daniel. “Yes, I know.”

Daniel looked between him and the screen, his expression growing more and more confused. “But, he was here though. Locked up. How did he escape?”

Clockwork didn’t turn to look at him. “I’m sorry Daniel,” he lied. “Your trust in me was misplaced. He escaped while I was distracted with another matter and I was unable to stop him. It’s my fault.”

Daniel’s eyes widened, searching for something in Clockwork’s expression, and then in Clockwork’s screens. The only thing he saw though, was the other Daniel causing havoc and destruction. After visiting Amity Park and re-traumatising Daniel’s sister, the other Daniel had been driven away by Daniel, whose power had become far superior in the time since they had last met. It was only natural of course, Daniel’s existence was unique and far beyond that of Dan’s mangled pieced together form of conflicting obsessions and damaged cores. 

It was possible, Clockwork knew, for the other Daniel to stabilize properly. Perhaps he could become a proper ghost, perhaps he could stop attempting to restrict what humanity he had left. Either way, it did not matter in the end. If anything, his existence was a fun riddle that would play itself out long after Clockwork’s plans came to fruition. 

Clockwork looked over at Daniel, his expression hidden behind the shadows of his hood. The boy was staring emptily at the corner of the Clocktower that led to the inner dungeons where the other Daniel had been hidden away.  After a moment he turned away, hiding his own expression, and began to walk. As if his legs had become too heavy to fly. 

“It’s fine. I’ll get him back. It won’t happen again.” There was a promise in his voice and it softened to be almost inaudible entirely. “I won’t let it.”

After he left, Clockwork turned back to the screen with the other Daniel on it. He was finished terrorizing the ghost from before, and was now floating listlessly in the void of the Infinite Realms. Likely, he was warring with his obsessions- or his emotions- it was hard to tell which. Eventually though, he shook his head, looked up as if to catch Clockwork’s eye, and flew off.

In the direction of the Observants. 

  It’s eyeball was glaring at him, the normally dull yellow of it’s sclera bright with fury. “You were given responsibility over him! You were entrusted to keep him from destroying the Realms!”

Clockwork’s own eye twitched as he fought back an eyeroll. Those who Watch were as predictable as ever, not showing up at the moment of Dan’s release but instead at the moment he began to take his rage out on the Observants. Their responsibilities had always been superfluous though, a vague excuse to do as they pleased in the name of Order. 

“I failed. He escaped. Woe is me.” He floated over to one of his more intricate gadgets and began to tinker with it, pretending to be busy. “Surely an Order such as yours, full of powerful ghosts that command the Realms, did not come to me in fear though? He attacked you directly, does that not make your vow of inaction void?”

“ You-! ”

“Of course, it would be different if you simply couldn’t defeat him. But… he’s only a decade dead. That would be an embarrassment.”

The other Observant that had come to scold (and demand his servitude) floated in front of its companion so as to cut off a likely incensed reaction. “He’s an abomination, and an amalgamation. Surely you can understand why we wanted him dealt with before it came to this.”

Clockwork inclined his head, playing at civility. “Perhaps then, you should seek to work alongside Phantom. I have it on relatively good authority he’s also trying to deal with your resident menace.”

Both of the Observants took his suggestion as an insult, one even growing red with it. “That Abomination? He should be destroyed along with it!”

“Pity,” Clockwork said, turning back to the screens and watching as the other Daniel tore the core out of another Observant’s chest and crushed it in his palm. He wasn’t even absorbing them for their power. It was a waste, but Clockwork was certain it was a waste born of trauma. Dan’s creation had, after all, been due to a botched absorption with a powerful ghost core. “You can leave now.”

“You must deal with this.”

“I will deal with it when the time is right,” he said in lieu of an answer. 

The Observants, disgruntled and unwilling to leave, as if hiding in Clockwork’s lair would somehow protect them, made comment after comment demanding his action and threatening punishment should he fail. He replied with sarcasm and an aloof attitude that soon had them leaving out the door if only to try and do what they could to tighten his bonds. 

He sighed, there was time still. He should make cookies, that always seemed to calm him, help him to exist in the present and not become impatient for what is yet to be. He headed to the kitchen, only to see an unexpected visitor at his table. 

“Nocturn, you’re early.”

The other Ancient nodded. “Yes, your plan seems to have worked flawlessly. The Authority of the Observants has been shaken. Much of the power they had gained through fear and reputation has dwindled, but…”

Clockwork raised an eyebrow as he opened his cabinets. There was egyptian sand flour left over, it would be dryer than using something more modern, but the age would add a good aftertaste. He just needed to add extra Honey-Wasp bits from the outskirts of The Undergrowth and that should balance it. Maybe some purified ectoplasm. Pariah gifted him a jar after he had somehow managed to create a device to filter it from the Infinite Realms. 

He had also made an absolutely unsubtle offer to join him in his new ‘sauna’ that Clockwork had pointedly refused. 

“But?” he prompted, there was little information he could glean from silence. 

Nocturn watched him prepare the batter. He sighed and stood, grabbing a knife and helping to mince the Honey-Wasps before speaking again. “But they still have their numbers, and much of their actual power. And Clockwork, Pariah has made his move.”

“I know,” Clockwork admitted, “but is that not in our favor as well?”

“Not if he takes more power from them, Pariah on his own is not a fight we can accept lightly. Anything more being beholden to him is hardly something I wish to see.” 

Clockwork cracked a Kraken’s egg into the mixture and moved the bowl closer to Nocturn so he could scoop the Honey-Wasp bits into it as well, without losing any of the juice. Mixing it would be troublesome, some of the more experimental batters attempted to gain sentience and would try to escape the bowl. “It will work in our favor either way. the other Daniel caused havoc, their power was broken across the realms. Pariah is merely salting the ground we have burned.” 

He used a dull knife to cut into the batter and stirred, stopping any attempts at formation. Nocturn grabbed the bowl from him, forcing eye contact. “What if he seeks something else?”

“Haven’t I already escaped the chains he bound me in before?” Clockwork laughed. “Do I not have allies that would find short work of cutting chains that I did not allow to bind me?”

The bowl was set back down and Clockwork and Nocturn both made short work of dividing the dough and setting it into the oven. “We could not break the bindings of the Observants,” Nocturn said as Clockwork closed the oven door. 

“That is different, that was part of our plans. They needed to never suspect me, if we were to get this far.” Clockwork waved him off. “Would you like a cookie?”

“We have to wait for them to cook, Clockwork.” Nocturn said, exasperated.

Clockwork simply rolled his eyes and increased the time surrounding the oven. “I don’t wait.”

Daniel hadn’t visited again since Clockwork allowed the other Daniel  to escape. It was possible, he admitted in the back of his mind, that Daniel blamed him for what happened. As well he should. Yet, the thought left a sour taste in his mouth. 

He was watching the screens again. Aiming them in every direction he could to see everything as it played out. Most were occupied by the remnants of the Order he had set about decimating. A few were dedicated to their interconnected Lair, the place where they held their play courts and kept their prisoners. It was where they kept Vortex before he was freed. One screen though, was aimed at Pariah’s Keep. 

It had been a simple thing that Clockwork had neither encouraged nor discouraged, Daniel’s visits with Pariah. But now that Clockwork’s own visits had come to an end, it had become something distinctly bitter, a feeling that was building in his chest, where his core hummed, that Clockwork was ignoring with all the practice of a man dead set on his goals. 

Daniel would visit again, of course. Clockwork could even tell the exact date and time, or at least the most likely ones. He didn’t look at the futures where Daniel never came back, there was no point in uselessly fretting about it. He’d be fine, there were more important things to deal with now. 

He could feel the pressure of his binds loosening as more and more of the Observants were hunted down. Not all of them were ended by Dan, of course. They had made many enemies. Both Vortex and Undergrowth had gone out of their way to visit quite a number themselves, along with a few of the other Ancients. Clockwork was certainly tempted to do so, alas, the restrictions upon him prevented it still. And the only way for those restrictions to end was for those wielding the reins to End. And well, then there wouldn’t be anyone left to take his ire out upon would there? 

Instead he allowed his own part in their demise to be enough for his bruised ego and the millennia of torment he’d undergone beneath them. Then he ate a cookie and kept watch of his screens. 

Pariah was teaching Daniel how to use a sword. Pandora had attempted to teach him swordsmanship but Daniel had been disinclined to it. He wasn’t particularly elegant to be fair, and the finesse and practiced movement of Pandora’s sword was more akin to an art than anything else. Her limbs risked entanglement if she wasn’t careful and had developed a style suited to such. 

Daniel was much more inclined to blunt, ferocious movements. He often thought with his fist before anything else, even as a ghost with a multitude of powers to command. He used speed and strength to win and outmaneuver his opponents and despite his lack of polish, he often won due to those two traits alone. Pariah was a talented teacher, in that he was clearly taking what Daniel had already in ample supply, and taught him how to wield it appropriately to its maximum use. 

He was still only beginning of course, but Daniel was a fast learner and had grown significantly in a short period of time. 

Clockwork had toyed with the idea of taking Daniel on as an official apprentice once or twice before. Teaching him how to exist beyond the means which he had become accustomed to as a human. While he would not have Clockwork’s inclination for time specifically, Daniel’s connection to the Realms would allow him a level of control over his surroundings and the beings that exist in them that simply does not exist in anyone outside of the Ancients. And even then, Clockwork’s Time was different enough from the others’ domains to be unique in and of itself in a similar vein to Daniel’s powers. Even if they’d only just barely begun to show. 

But it was a risk to do so before everything else came to fruition. If Daniel realized his plans, it would be troublesome. He likely would not agree to the lengths Clockwork is willing to reach, and more than that, there is no guarantee that his existence as half human would not have him attempting to side with Order over Chaos. No, it was better to wait and see how it all played out first. There wasn’t much left to do before the end. 

Yes it would lead to anger. Perhaps even to hatred. It would be fitting for Clockwork. He had never known a love that had yet to turn. That had truly been any kind of unconditional. 

But he would be free. 

Finally, finally free. 

Free from this horrid linear existence, free from his servitude, free from his bonds. The root of him, the core, had been born from Chaos, from the mess of all things and no things, and like any child wishing to cradle in the arms of its mother, Clockwork longed once more for it. 

He had been patient, as had the others. There was little left to do. 

  When Daniel finally visited again Clockwork had made cookies. 

They resembled human chocolate chips, if one squinted, and Clockwork had made sure to take them out of the oven just as Daniel arrived so they would be warm.

“There you are Daniel,” he greeted. The cookies were still moving and he had to give the tray he was holding a bit of a shake to get them to stop. He doubted Daniel would eat them if he thought they were alive. 

The boy didn’t look well. He had deep bags under his eyes, and a skittish, weary look about him. 

Clockwork clicked his tongue. “You need to sleep,” he said, not waiting for Daniel to speak. 

“What?” The boy lifted his head, confused. 

“I said, you should sleep.” Clockwork grabbed one of the amulets from the wall and placed it around Daniel’s neck. “I’ll stop time for a few hours, you can sleep here if you want.”

Daniel just blinked. “Oh.”

Nodding, Clockwork turned back to his screens so he could keep watch. Nocturn had warned that Pariah was making his move and Clockwork was determined to keep an eye on him now, when the timing was most crucial. 

He felt a tug on his sleeve. 

“Clockwork…”

He looked down to catch Daniel’s eyes. “Yes?”

“Nothing,” he sighed, “thanks.” He grabbed the amulet in one hand, a torn expression on his face. Then he floated off to the room Clockwork had given him to sleep.

Watching as his ward wandered off, Clockwork waited until he was out of sight to grab hold of time and let it rest for a moment. It was the least he could do. 

It wasn’t long after their fall that the final thread snapped and Clockwork opened his eyes in triumph. Everything was available to him now. There were no hidden futures, no shrouded pasts. His screens multiplied around him as even his Lair was freed from its limits. Like a beast stretching from a long hibernation, Clockwork lost himself to his Obsession, revelled in the freedom he had long gambled away. 

The Infinite Realms felt it as he left the Clocktower for no reason other than because he wanted to and he didn’t have to ask. He didn’t have to come up with some convoluted reason as to why this was perfectly acceptable before his own body allowed him to leave the doors of his own Lair. It felt wonderful, he almost took down his hood to see everything around him with the eyes of a free spirit. 

He didn’t though, it would be too much of a hassle to wrangle his hair back and he didn’t really want someone to see him so freely bared. It was enough in every way, that he was finally free. 

“I almost forgot how powerful you were, Clockwork.” He turned to see Misery Vex, lounging comfortably just outside his lair. “The Eyes Around Us are gone then?”

Clockwork nodded, looking to the future, looking to the past. She had been waiting here for him, but not for long. And she wouldn’t have waited much longer. “Are you ready for what happens next?” he asked. 

“Are you?”

He nodded again. There weren’t any more preparations to make, how could he be anything but ready?

They didn’t meet at the Clocktower this time. 

It was no longer necessary after all. This time they met in the night. The soft evening of eternal sleep and dreams, Nocturn’s lair. It was spacious if nothing else, and creative with its decoration. Should one of them wish to sit, they merely needed to chance sitting and see if the space around them would accommodate. It suited him immensely. 

“Have you found her yet?” Misery asked.

Sojourn nodded, a small enthusiastic smile hidden under his beard. “Yes, Clockwork and I were able to locate her shattered core amongst Pandora’s boxes.”

“ It will not be easy to receive her, and it will only be more difficult to revive her,” Nocturn warned, “especially if we wish to keep this to ourselves. Rather than risk the entirety of the realms turning on us as they did the Observants.”

Clockwork nodded, “we shouldn’t do much in more than pairs. Sojourn and Misery should seek Pandora. Nocturn and I can set the ritual once the pieces are complete.”

“And the rest of us?” Undergrowth scowled, he hated Nocturn’s lair. It was cold and empty, barren of any more physical matters and there was nowhere for him to take root. Clockwork suspected half of the reason it was that way was intended to irritate Undergrowth specifically. 

Sojourn clapped his hands together and smiled, his eagerness truly knew no bounds and his obvious delight was nearly infectious. “You’re our escape plan of course! We’ll need help once we locate the right box, Pandora’s obsession is hardly a good one to be on the wrong side of.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” Vortex grinned.

Clockwork couldn’t help but agree, what are they waiting for indeed? 

  “What is Chaos, Clockwork?” Daniel asked. But Clockwork was distracted.

He hadn’t expected Daniel to show up today, he hadn’t paid attention to it. There was so much to do, so much to get ready for. The time was now after all. 

He took care to answer anyways, the changes that were to come would affect the boy. At least a little. He was strong enough that he would thrive in Chaos, and it would help to nurture his Obsession, if the weaker denizens of the Realms needed help. And they would

“Chaos was the first, how it all began. Everything started with Chaos or nothing could have been at all.” 

Daniel frowned, a small furrow in his brow. “That… didn’t really-“

Clockwork paused for a moment. “Is something wrong Daniel?”

He sighed. “So if you were made from Chaos, is she like, your mother?”

“No. Chaos is not sentient so much as conceptual.” Clockwork frowned, “though I suppose she predated concepts as well if she was the first. Chaos was neither one thing nor many things. It’s safe to say Chaos was everything and everything came from her. But that did not make her nurturing” 

Clockwork looked back at Daniel, letting time flow smoothly once more. It wouldn’t do to delay. 

There was a hint of something in Daniel’s eyes, a wariness that Clockwork had never seen before. It must have been due to their conversation, but Clockwork couldn’t place what about it would have Daniel on edge. Chaos would not be any more a threat to him than it would be the other Ancients. 

“Clockwork, if Chaos came back…” he paused, as if the words had been stuck in his throat, “what would happen to the humans? The mortals?” 

What a strange question. “Life would not exist as it does now, utter chaos would not permit it.”

It had been something of a sport, to watch Sojourn and Misery in their attempts to find and excavate the remnants of the Core of Chaos. Clockwork and Nocturn had watched it from the safety and comfort of Clockwork’s lair, on the largest of his screens. 

“They’re having fun aren’t they?” Nocturn mused, taking a sip of his tea. He’d made it himself in Clockwork’s kitchen, had been insistent about it when he’d seen Clockwork start to make his own.

“Pandora is a valiant warrior and a good fighter. Misery has been on the sidelines for some time since the end of Pariah’s court.” Clockwork’s tea was cold. He frowned and set it aside.

“Yes, it’s good to see her stretching her limbs. I hadn’t seen all of them since her last fight.”

Clockwork thought back, the fight Nocturn was referring to played on one of the smaller screens. It was a gladiator based competition, where Pariah had sent her as a member of his court to show his power. She had challenged the Lord of Little Crawlers to a duel and shredded him to pieces before even five minutes had passed. Then she had collected herself, reset her veil, and gone right back to Pariah’s Keep. 

Now she was using every extra limb she could against Pandora, swords clashing with long knitting needles and strings of silk. Watching the fight was mesmerizing to be sure, almost akin to a dance, if not for the frustrated vulgarities being thrown around and Sojourn’s overly eager cheering from the back.

“Do you think they’ll make it?”

“Sojourn will remember what they’re supposed to be doing when he almost drops one of the boxes held in his arms. Upon that realization he will sneak away while Pandora is distracted and meet with the others. From there they will come here with their spoils and it will be our turn to prove our worth.” Clockwork answered, easily detailing the future ahead of them. 

Nocturn nodded and took a sip of his tea.

  It didn’t happen exactly like Clockwork had predicted. But it was close enough. Sojourn had bypassed Vortex and Undergrowth completely and simply flown straight to Clockwork‘s lair on his own. Nocturn spared Clockwork a glance, but he remained unaffected. It was still on track to be an ideal future. 

Once Sojourn entered his lair Clockwork grabbed hold of time with his hand and twisted , forcing it to bend and still under his palm. The trip to the Cave was only a step after that and once there, he let loose and released time to settle amicably around them.

“Amazing,” Sonourn said, “I do think I’d like to travel this way more often. It’s quite convenient.”

Nocturn patted him on the shoulder and grabbed one of the delicately detailed boxes he’d been balancing precariously in his arms. “You’d need to be very careful if you did, there’s no telling what might get caught up in all that twisting and turning.”

“It won’t matter much longer after this,” Clockwork said, taking his own box. 

The entirety of Chaos was not here, her core long since mostly destroyed, but there was enough to recreate something should they use the ritual they had devised. 

It needed to be hidden, so they had found a cave. It was ancient, and once thought to be a reliable doorway into the spiritual and mortal realms, every wall was covered in ancient arts and writings. No rhyme or reason between them, a bit of a mess conceptually, but perfect for their purposes. Once Vortex had destroyed it in the mortal realm, it had been simple enough to recreate, especially using Undergrowth and Misery Vex’s powers. 

Most ghosts dared not travel here, where they placed it. It was a deeper part of the Infinite Realms, where the pressures of the ambient ectoplasm was strong enough to kill even some of the more stable spirits, certainly more than any Watcher could have ever handled. 

Clockwork gathered the ashes in the center of their chosen chamber. Three rights from the first left. Nocturn moved around the edges, the walls solid and firm under his hands as he tested them. And Sojourn, setting his own box aside, lit the flames. 

It began. 

They had known the work would be hard, tedious even. Most mortals, when they picture rituals like this, imagine chanting and holding hands, perhaps some use of indomitable will. But this was far more personal, more hands on.

Clockwork took the broken edge of a shattered piece of core, and began to mold it, shaping and soothing it into a puzzle-like shape. He had spent time looking into human carpentry practices, and had come across the traditional Chinese techniques of Lu Ban. 

It had taken more than a human lifetime to learn it properly and then suit it to his own needs, but he put it into practice now, shaping the shattered pieces anew and slotting them together so that they might fit and stay snug.

Sojourn had weaved together layer after layer of treated ectoplasm into a fine cloth and was now sewing it into a fitted dress, each stitch small and tidy, seamless against the weave. 

The one who stoked the flame, who kept its energy strong and the newly forming core well fed, was Nocturn. He kept a measured gaze upon it, not once turning away or getting distracted. 

This continued for an eternity, the creation, or recreation, of something both ancient and now new was exhaustive work. But eventually, Clockwork felt a hum. A small, weak thing that would have left him breathless had he needed to breathe. 

Chaos was born again, though faint, though weak. Not anything close to what she once was, but still, she was there, feeding on the flames of her own ashes, pieces of her own core held together and finally finding life. 

They needed to keep going. This was delicate work, if they got distracted, if there was even one misstep, it would be over. Chaos would be what she is now, what they made of her, and not what she needed to be. 

The fire went out.

“ Damn ,” Nocturn hissed, quickly turning to look around. He did not bother to relight the flame, it was too late. Clockwork felt hollow, had they truly failed? But how? 

He acted quickly, bundling the newly formed and still fragile core into Sojourn’s half sewn garment and thrusting it fully into the other Ancient’s hands. 

“You are the fastest of us, run, hide her away before we lose her entirely.” Sojourn nodded solemnly, flying quickly through the winding tunnels that led out of the cave. 

Nocturn scowled, “whoever is there should be glad I am merciful. Come out now and I shall forgo eternal torment for a quick End.”

There was only silence. 

Clockwork was growing irritated himself and looked to the future, only to see Nocturn tackled into a wall by a familiar black and white blur. 

“Daniel?!” He said, his thoughts screeching to a halt. But, there was no way. He couldn’t have followed them. He would have had to know about the cave and been lying in wait for the exact moment to-

There was a soft sound, like the clinking of a delicate chain, as Clockwork felt a weight upon his neck. All at once he felt the universe stand still, as if he had been trapped in the moment, the singular moment no longer able to spread himself beyond. It was cloying, claustrophobic. Something he never thought he’d experience again. 

And he knew who was behind it. 

“You’ve always been impatient my dear.” Pariah spoke softly, his lips far too close. 

Clockwork fled, slipping between moments to force space between them almost on instinct alone. Pariah simply let him go, a smug smile on his face. No, he wasn’t supposed to be here. How did he know about this place?

What had he placed on Clockwork’s neck?

He lifted a hand, not taking his eyes off of Pariah in case he decided to get any closer, and felt around his neck. It was a chain, delicate and just long enough to have slid over his head and dangle its pendant at a point on his chest, just above the glass. The shape of it was vaguely familiar, but Clockwork couldn’t place it.

“What have you done to me?” he asked, using anger to hide the tremble in his voice.

Pariah’s expression softened and he took a step forward. “Did I not say I would see you decked in gold?”

No…

The necklace…

It had been a cursed necklace, layered in charms meant for protection that slowly twisted into possession and control. It shouldn’t have been strong enough to cause any trouble at all to Clockwork, if something this simple had worked, Pariah would have used it long ago in the peak of his madness. 

Clockwork grabbed the chain, intending to rip it off, but Pariah spoke, startling him. “I wouldn’t, you’ll only hurt yourself.”

“Then why did you put it on me?” he tugged at the chain in emphasis, without his strength. Pariah never warned for no reason. 

The bastard smiled, like Clockwork had asked a stupid question, one he should know the answer to. Clockwork scowled, and moved further away from him. His back hit a wall. The cave, while earlier it had been comforting, a sign that eternal chaos was close at hand, that all Clockwork had done was paying off in the end, it was now more reminiscent of a stone cage. 

A trap.

He’d walked straight into a trap, one Pariah had been laying since he awoke. And Clockwork had never paid it any heed, had not bothered with his machinations because he assumed Pariah would be too slow, had thought whatever he did would be too weak. He had underestimated him, and now Pariah Dark was walking towards him, a lion stalking its prey.

Clockwork froze time.

He was still moving. Clockwork had frozen time and Pariah was still moving . 

It shouldn’t have been possible, there was nothing restricting Clockwork’s power in that way. He felt the threads of all existence tangled around him, grabbed the ones moving forward and tugged, sharp, desperate, to keep them still. He felt them still. 

Pariah kept moving though. 

“How-?” Everything else had frozen, all around them was silence and the only things that moved were the two of them. It was a strange kind of dance, one stepping closer and the other floating away. 

“I made it myself, the charm. It ties you to me, obviously.” Pariah caught him, gently because he didn’t need to use force, didn’t need to use any of the almost limitless strength behind him. “It’s based off the contract you signed with the Observants, I hadn’t honestly expected it to be so blatantly one sided when I read it. Though I suppose it was on purpose, a miscalculation on your part, in the end.”

Clockwork pulled his hand away, but Pariah simply moved with the action and stepped closer, crowding against him. “It doesn’t work like that,” Clockwork said through clenched teeth. A one-sided contract that gave away so much of himself was necessary. It was also only possible because Clockwork had signed it. Pariah couldn’t mimic that without Clockwork’s consent, that wasn’t how it worked. That wasn’t how any of this was supposed to work. 

Pariah hummed in agreement. “It wouldn’t be, if that was all I did.” He brushed a lock of hair from Clockwork’s eyes. “The Order of the Observants was in chaos. They were desperate. They wanted someone powerful to protect them. They were willing to give anything for the possibility they might find safety.”

Then he pulled out a medallion of his own, a horribly familiar one.

Oh.

So that was all it took…

Pariah was right, it had been a miscalculation indeed. 

“Even if they gave me to you, the contract dissolved with the Order. I felt it break.” 

“It did,” Pariah took hold of one of Clockwork’s hands and held it to his lips in a kiss, “But I had you for long enough. Long enough to bind you to myself instead. All it took was some craftswork.”

He let go of Clockwork’s hand to touch the pendant hanging from his neck instead. It was a gentle, reverent touch, as if thanking the damned thing for its work in keeping Clockwork trapped for him. “Luckily I was up to date on all the most prominent binding curses. I have a friend who suffers from such an affliction after all.”

“Fuck you.” 

Pariah laughed, a genuine surprised chuckle that truly lit him up from the inside. His eyes were so warm, his hands burned like brands, and Clockwork wanted nothing more than to tear out his other eye with his teeth. “Come Clockwork, you’ve failed. Let’s go home.” 

  Pariah led him back to the Clocktower, his lair. His home and prison. Clockwork stormed past him once they were inside. “And what is your plan now? I can’t imagine I’d be much use in subjecuting the Realms, as you can see I’m quite traitorous by nature. All of my previous masters can attest.”

“Then it’s good I’m keeping you for your sense of humor,” Pariah said as he closed the door behind him. 

It was the first time Pariah Dark had ever been inside Clockwork’s lair. Pariah had always been a cautious ghost, it made sense that he wouldn’t allow himself the vulnerability of being inside another powerful ghost’s lair, a place where they quite literally held all of the power and had all of the control. 

The irony of course, was that the moment Pariah had stepped inside, it was Clockwork that felt vulnerable. Exposed like a raw nerve, every part of him standing on end, tightly coiled and ready to flee. 

“How is this exactly how I have always envisioned it?” Pariah says dryly, his eyes roaming freely, invasively over every nook and cranny. Every randomly placed cog and haphazard ticking machine. It was a chaotic mess, naturally, it was Clockwork. 

Clockwork picked up a twentieth century alarm clock and weighed it in his hands before chucking it as hard as he could towards Pariah. The bastard caught it, of course. And Clockwork scowled.

“Did you often picture yourself waltzing into my Lair?”

Pariah set the clock down carefully, as if it would break. As if it were truly a piece of Clockwork himself. “I don’t see why I shouldn’t have. You were certainly at home in mine.”

“Oh please, half the Realms has access to your Lair. We are not the same.” Clockwork scoffed, crossing his arms and floating awkwardly in the middle of the room. He didn’t want to be any closer to Pariah, but neither did he want to risk being backed into a wall again . It seemed a recurring treat for Pariah, to cage him in that way. 

There was a touch of mischief in Pariah’s smile when he replied. “Perhaps we can change that, would you like more visitors?”

“No.”

“Pity.”

Clockwork grabbed another trinket to throw, this one he had pried from the walls. Pariah handled that just as easily, an uncomfortable expression aimed at the destroyed part of Clockwork’s wall. He was truly the most obnoxious perfectionist. If Clockwork’s mangled mess of a lair was going to bother him he shouldn’t have bothered to come inside.

In fact, if he was going to be disappointed so easily he shouldn’t have chained him in the first place. It wasn’t as if the bindings guaranteed something like loyalty. They couldn’t even force him to act should he not wish to. Clockwork wasn’t going to change from how he had been for eons under the damn Eyes. 

“Why did you do this?” Clockwork asked, “And don’t dare say it’s only because you said you would. You may be meticulous but you are not beholden to simple words.”

Pariah had fixed his wall. And was now attempting to reinstate the very same decoration Clockwork had used as ammunition. It was strangely domestic to see and Clockwork felt rage simmer and build. Would he simply make himself at home then? Perhaps he would seek to combine their lairs in a twisted amalgamation so that he might seek order where it damn well did not belong.

“You were going to leave.” 

What a useless excuse. “Did you lose your ability to reason permanently to that crown?”

This time it was Pariah that rolled his eyes. “Obviously not, if I was able to out-fox Clockwork of all ghosts.”

“You had help.” Clockwork said through grit teeth. He wouldn’t ask who, he didn’t think he could handle having it confirmed.

Pariah’s eyes sparkled. “So you knew?”

“I figured it out.”

“Feeling very betrayed, Clockwork?” This time Pariah’s smile was sharp, a vicious little thing that certainly made him more recognizable as the fallen tyrant he actually was. 

Clockwork refused to rise to the bait. He did not regret, it was impossible to feel regret when every single decision he’d ever made had been so thoroughly calculated. “I wasn’t going to leave. Where would I even go, Pariah?”

“You were leaving me.” Pariah walked towards him, quicker than his usual slow prowl. Clockwork had chanced a step back himself but it only served to darken Pariah’s expression further so he stilled instead and allowed himself to be caught and held. Pariah’s hands were heavy, one landing on his hip and the other reaching for his wrist. “You were disappearing to the flows of Time, one minute here and the next somewhere no one could follow you. You speak of chaos and the freedom it would give you, but you lie to yourself when you say that is all that you desire. The freedom you had so desperately sought, how lonely would it have been.”

Pariah had not been able to talk after that, too busy weathering Clockwork’s sudden violent outrage. 

Nocturn was the first to visit him, to see Clockwork’s anger, his desperate lashing out. He had the same expression he’d always had when the topic of Pariah or Daniel had come up. The look of undisguised pity, as if he had known from the start that Clockwork would fail, that he would be chained in this way, the moment his freedom was closer than at any other time. 

“We do not hate you for your failure, Clockwork,” Nocturn said, and Clockwork bared his teeth. It had been sometime since he’d carved out an eye in petty vengeance but he was not above making it a hobby.

Nocturn simply kept his distance, just one step away with one of those damned medallions around his neck, stopping Clockwork from freezing him in place in his own lair. “You’ve always been easily twisted by affection, too willing to be tied down with familiarity.”

His words hurt, like an arrow piercing through Clockwork’s chest. He hadn’t thought it would be so literal, hadn’t taken Pariah’s threats seriously. Had believed, genuinely, that he would be able to escape whatever bonds Pariah had fashioned for him. Had not thought to protect himself thoroughly enough and now all was for naught. Nocturn said he harbored no ill will, but he should . 

And Clockwork was distraught that he did not. 

He deflated and Nocturn floated closer, just within range. But Clockwork’s arms hung heavy, and he was exhausted now, the weight of it all too much. “You should. Chaos is lost to us.” he spoke, his voice barely audible.

“Yes,” Nocturn acquiesced, “but Chaos was lost to us long ago. It was a child’s hope, that we could get it back.”

“You are content then? To rot in containment in an infinite realm of order and stability?”

A laugh escaped Nocturn, perplexing Clockwork and only flaring his temper worse. The other Ancient didn’t even try to hide as he fell into a laughing fit. “I would not be, no. But my oldest friend, I am not the one in containment. I have always known you look too much towards the forest and its tallest trees, very rarely have you ever noticed the grass or the leaves.”

“Speak sense,” Clockwork snapped. It was his job to speak in riddles, he had little patience to hear them now. 

Nocturn did not call him on his hypocrisy though, instead he shook his head and floated closer, relaxing next to Clockwork as if they were two friends taking tea. “It was not, as you believed, an all or nothing gamble.”

“Was it not?”

“No, the realms are back to Anarchy as they should be. The Observants were the last hold in their attempts to tame them, and they have been destroyed. There is no King, not even a sleeping one, and Chaos exists.”

Clockwork listened, the cold weight of failure that had settled in his chest chipped and cracked as Nocturn spoke on. “She does not exist as she had.”

“But perhaps this is a better way,” Nocturn pondered, “last time, Chaos reigned so supreme it seemed all were insistent to seek order. Then order reigned supreme and we sought Chaos. Perhaps now, with the Realms alive once more, and order and Chaos in balance, it will last instead.”

Nocturn placed a hand on the top of Clockwork’s head, petting his hair. “The other Ancients and I shall seek our fun, and find ways to exist in this new existence. It is only you, I am afraid, that will remain trapped.”

Clockwork slapped his hand away, “How comforting, Nocturn. Do you also go to the newly dead and tell them not to weep, at least they were the ones that died and not others?”

Nocturn’s hand returned to pull his hood down over his face and Clockwork had to slap it away again. “It is not in my perogative to comfort the newly dead. I thought only to inform my dearest friend that he had not earned my animosity. A fear he might have had, failing the plan we had painstakingly worked towards for eons.”

“I don’t want to be chained any longer.” Clockwork admitted. It had been so long since he’d had any semblance of freedom. Did he even know what it would feel like anymore?

“We know. Though some, like Misery Vex, believe it karmic, that your attachments, which had led so thoroughly to our defeat, came back in the forms of chains for you alone. But know that if one day it comes to pass that I can free you, unlikely as it may be, I shall make the attempt.” Nocturn stood, leaving Clockwork alone in his tower. 

“Clockwork?” It was Daniel’s voice. It was the first time his young ward had come to visit since the binding. It was not a comfort to hear his voice, to see that he was okay. It was not .

He didn’t acknowledge Daniel when he entered, wouldn’t have let him in the door if he still had complete control of his Lair… But he’d bargained that away long ago in a gamble that had failed him entirely. 

Instead he floated to his screens. Ever since the fall of the Observants, he could see properly at least. Pariah had no interest in obscuring his vision, had even less in controlling what it was he could see. Pariah’s only interest had been binding Clockwork to him so that he might not escape, so that he might not regress, so that he might not lose himself to the chaos of infinity and escape his limited existence.

Clockwork scowled, still ignoring Daniel’s presence, his attempts at conversation. Pariah’s interests should not have mattered. Because Pariah should not have won . Because Pariah had lost before and Clockwork had been so certain that he would again. Because- 

Because Clockwork had made a mistake when he sealed him away. Because Clockwork knew he could not bring himself to end him. Because Clockwork had seen an opportunity to see Pariah again and had known it would be a mistake but had wanted so desperately just to see him again. Wanted to see him free of the haze of anger the ring and crown had obscured him in, but a ghost’s natural state was obsessive. And Pariah had never hid his desire to keep Clockwork as he was, Clockwork had simply brushed it off as words of affection. He should have known better really, Pariah was hardly the type to speak lightly, and had never claimed what he did not mean with his entire core. 

The screen he was watching was boring, most things were now that he had no reason to keep track of the threads, no overarching plan to work towards. It was so simple. A young ghost was trick-or-treating with a watermelon instead of a pumpkin and was turning into a large candy-based monster whenever someone turned them away. 

It was the middle of summer where the ghost was, and Clockwork allowed himself to appreciate the tiny bit of chaos that the ghost was bringing to the small mortal town. Nocturn had told him that not all had been lost, Clockwork may be trapped, but Chaos had been released. 

Just enough. 

He sighed. 

“Why are you here Daniel?” he finally asked.

Daniel straightened up, he’d been rambling, no doubt in an attempt to cajole Clockwork into joining conversation or listening subconsciously. He hadn't been.

He was also carrying a plate of cookies that Clockwork had not seen, because Clockwork had not looked. When would he learn his lesson about that? Why was he always looking too late?

“I wanted to check on you,” Daniel said, setting the plate of cookies down now that he was sure Clockwork had seen them. “Pariah said you were… having a hard time.”

Clockwork scowled, too many things tearing at his chest at once. Damn Pariah, damn him . 

“Having a hard time?” he said with a false calm. “The plans that I made eons ago, plans that had been in work before your mortal realm even knew what time was, were ruined by someone I trusted. Someone I did not think would step so easily between me and my goals. Exactly what kind of time should I be having, chained to my own lair without even the authority to deny entrance to whom I wish?”

There had been a small flinch, Clockwork noticed, when he had mentioned betrayal. But if Daniel felt any guilt he didn’t look it. He raised his head, eyes full of determination. The very same expression Clockwork had seen through his screens so many times, in the fights against the other Ancients. The plans they’d made to make him stronger, to keep him stable, so that when the Chaos had been released he and the Realms with him would survive. 

He had certainly survived. 

“Pariah said this was the only way to save you.” Because of course that was what Pariah had told him. Because Daniel was intelligent, but Daniel was also a child and all too willing to trust any competent adult. A flaw that Clockwork himself had been so quick to take advantage of. A flaw that cursed him now. 

“Do you really believe that Pariah Dark has my best interest at heart?” he would have sneered, if it had been anyone else. If it hadn’t been Daniel, who was practically his own child. Instead, he asked softly, his frustration drowned entirely by exhaustion.

Daniel still answered him though. “You were changing Clockwork,” What? “The same way you told me Pariah had once changed.”

He hadn’t, there was no way it had been so obvious. He hadn’t, it wasn’t as if he had lost himself to his obsession, nor had he gained power that grew out of his control, what was he talking about?

“You were distant, as if you were struggling to stay in any given moment. Sometimes you’d forget everything going on around you, and others you seemed to be somewhere or some-when else entirely. I mean,” Daniel took a breath, “you’ve always been a bit cryptic, but you were losing yourself entirely . Halfway through a conversation you would start talking completely randomly, in languages long dead or unrecognizable. Or you’d start talking about things that had never happened or had happened forever ago.”

He was almost shouting now, his eyes shining with more than just energy and Clockwork felt a sting in his core. He had known that Daniel would disapprove, that he would get angry. But it had not occurred to him that his anger would be pointed towards this rather than his blatant manipulation of Daniel and his friends.

“And your actions! They were reckless, Clockwork!! Releasing Dan? What the hell?! ”

It was Clockwork’s turn to flinch. “Your future self’s release had always been part of the plan. It was why I had you leave him with me to start with. I was not losing myself Daniel, I was revealing who I actually am.”

Daniel made a desperately frustrated noise. “Do you think saying something like that is going to convince me we were wrong, Clockwork? I- I trusted you! I care about you! You’re-”

“So you’d cage me and try to force compliance so that the more unsightly aspects of myself can be filed away? So you can teach me to be better, like some kind of petty human criminal, Daniel?” He let his anger take over instead. It was easier, so much easier. It was what he had always done with Pariah. 

Daniel rolled his eyes. “How dramatic,” he said dryly, “Didn’t you do the same thing to Pariah, wasn’t what you did like way worse? You’re throwing a fit just like he said you would.”

“If you trust Pariah Dark so much, why are you even here? Have him make cookies for you. I'm sure he’s fully capable.” Clockwork wasn’t throwing a fit, he was angry. 

Daniel sighed, grabbing one of the cookies he’d brought. They had long gone cold, but it hardly mattered to Clockwork, he wouldn’t be eating them. “Pariah has a lot of faults, and there’s a bunch of things I don’t really like about him. He’s manipulative, methodical. He never lets me half ass anything and he’s really picky. He doesn’t actually care if a person dies or a ghost gets Ended, and we fight about that kind of stuff a lot. But…” he met Clockwork’s eyes, his expression looked hurt, heartbroken. Clockwork didn’t want to see it. Had never wanted to see Daniel like this.

“He’s never outright lied to me. I’ve been checking, ever since… Well. I don’t just trust anyone at their word anymore. So yeah okay, I know he’s manipulating me just like he was manipulating you, but he never lied to either of us about his intentions. He didn’t do what you did.”

Clockwork couldn’t look at him any more. He’d made so many mistakes. If he was truly destined to fail… He should never have revealed his true nature or intentions to the boy. His disappointment burned almost as much as the chain Pariah had placed around Clockwork’s neck.

It didn’t matter though, that Clockwork could not stand to see him, because Daniel flew towards him and grabbed his face gently, hands on either side of his cheeks. 

“I don’t trust you anymore, Clockwork, but I still love you. So does Pariah. We can fix this, okay?” Daniel said and Clockwork’s eyes widened at the threat. 

He had truly lost, hadn’t he?

[atomic-taco-muffin]

Can you please make a Vampire prince Sora x human Fem reader? Sora gets confused and curious by this new species. Simply because he hasn’t seen a human before. And Sora immediately sees this girl as his mate. One day he gets over curious and starts making out with the reader. The reader then gets freaked out when he bites her neck. She started crying.

Of course! I thought this request was super cute! Hope you all enjoy! 

Vampire!Sora x Fem!Reader: Bite Mark 

Warnings: Lime. 

Sora was different than the people of Twilight Town. He was a vampire. He was the only vampire in the town. He was able to hide the fact that he was a vampire really well. One day, he was walking along the sidewalk when he saw you. You were opening your shop. He’s never seen you around here before. He thought that you were the most beautiful creature ever. His instincts were telling him that you should be his mate. He wanted to talk to you, but he was too shy. Also he didn’t want to scare you off if he revealed that he was a vampire. He then summoned up enough courage to go and talk to you. 

“Um, excuse me?” he asked. You turned around. 

“Hi. I’m Sora. What’s your name?” 

“I’m (Y/N). It’s nice to meet you.” you said. 

“It’s nice to meet you too. Are you new around here. I’ve just seen you around here before.” 

“Yep! Just moved here. I don’t know much about the town. Maybe you can give me a tour later after my shift.” 

“Sure. What time does your shift end?”

“5:00.” 

“Okay. I’ll see you at 5:00 then.” Sora just got a “date.” He was so excited. 

~Time Skip~ 

Your shift was over and you saw Sora standing by a café. 

“Hey, Sora.”

“Hey, (Y/N). You ready?”

“Yep!” The two of you walked around Twilight Town. Sora showed you the clocktower, Little Chef’s bistro, the tram, everything. When the tour was over, you and Sora ended up at his place. 

“Um, I hope you don’t mind me asking. But would you like to come in?” he said. 

“Sure! I have the day off tomorrow so I don’t mind.” Sora opened his apartment door and let you in. When you walked in, you saw his dog run up to you. 

“Oh, sorry about him. Goofy, down.” 

“No, it’s okay. I love dogs.(I’m sorry if you don’t or are allergic) I used to have one when I was a kid.”

“That’s cool. I also have a bird named Donald but it seems like he’s hiding in his cage.” 

“It’s fine. I can go see him later.” 

“Okay. Can I get you anything?”

“Just some water would be fine.” Sora got you a cup of water and sat down next to you. You then talked about yourself. Sora did as well but left out the vampire part. 

“Okay. You’re probably going to think I’m weird, but I thought that you were the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” Sora said. 

“Really? You think I’m beautiful?” 

“Yeah. Again you’re probably going to think I’m weird, but can I kiss you?” You blushed. 

“U-Uh sure.” Sora gently placed his lips against yours. It soon became a makeout session with you on his lap. His vampire instincts got the better of him when he trailed his lips against your neck. He sunk his fangs into your neck and you yelped and stood up. You put your hand against your neck and saw blood. You started to cry. Sora saw what he had done and started to apologize. 

“Crap! I’m so sorry! I should’ve told that I was a vampire but I didn’t I’m so sorr-” You shut him up by kissing him. 

“It’s okay. Look, am I dead? no. Am I in pain? Slightly, but that doesn’t matter. You’re still you. Okay?”

“Okay.” he giggled. You kissed him again. 

“Now, can you help me clean up?”

“Sure. And again, I’m so sorry that I didn’t tell you earlier.”

“It’s fine Sora. I never judge a book by it’s cover.” Sora helped you clean up your bite mark and went to his room to sleep. You cuddled next to him, and he fell asleep knowing that he had someone to love.

[someonefantastic]

Running Out of Time

What? Me writing yet another fic about Mr Yin Presents...? I think it's safe to say I love that episode. I also love Gus, he doesn't get nearly enough love, and I've always wondered what that ep would be like though his perspective. Hence this fic. Enjoy! Summary: They had forty minutes to save Juliet. Gus just hoped that would be enough. Warnings: kidnapping, self blame, burns, cuts also on ao3 ___

3:50 am.

The call came in from Juliet at 3:50. Five hours after she was taken. Five hours after she slipped through that trap door. Five hours since they last saw her. Five hours after he lost her.

He had tried to not blame himself but it was hard when he was right there. Hundreds if not thousands of what-ifs had run through his brain. His therapist called it rumination- he called it overthinking. Regardless, it was making him sick.

What if he had been faster? What if he had been next to her when she fell? Could he have grabbed her gun and fought Yin off? What if he had been able to catch up with Yin? What if he had been able to tackle her out of the way, saving her from falling? What if he had never left her alone in the first place? What if she was safe instead of who knows where? What if he hadn’t failed?

The hours in between were torture. Not just for him but for everyone else. He had never seen Carlton so furious and distraught, the man alternated between disappearing to the gym to presumably beat up a practice dummy and sitting motionless at Juliet’s desk, staring at her abandoned paperwork. Shawn wasn’t much better off. He didn’t speak for hours after they got the call about Abigail, looking silently off into space despite Gus’ food offers or attempts to talk about it.

The whole station was grave as the fateful phone call came in, the next clue put into place. They had forty minutes, at half-past four she would drop and that would be it. Even worse, Shawn had to choose between her and Abigail, choose between the girl he had been after for years and the one he had managed to have a committed relationship with. It was an impossible choice and Gus hated that his best friend was in this situation and hated even more than he was partially responsible.

He wanted so badly to go with Shawn, to make it up to him somehow. But as Shawn told him- no trusted him- to go save Juliet, he knew that would be the best way to make it up to him.

They had twenty-five minutes.

If Gus hadn’t been so scared for Juliet’s life, he might’ve been afraid for his own as Carlton sped through the quiet streets of Santa Barbara at a speed that was way over the posted limit. It was somewhat eerie to see the city so still. Given different circumstances, he might even find it peaceful. But it wasn’t peaceful. The air hung tense as they hurled through the streets, his stomach-churning. He silently prayed- pleaded- for Juliet to be okay, for them to get there in time.

Ten minutes.

Of all the times to have to take the stairs, this was the worst of them. Of course, the elevator had to be out of order. He briefly wondered if Yin was the cause of that too. There was no time to waste, however, the two of them racing up the steps as if their life depended on it. Her’s certainly did.

Five minutes

His legs were burning and they still weren’t there yet, were only about halfway. He glanced up, gulping at the sheer amount of distance they still had to cover. Lassiter was a flight above him, his footsteps resounding throughout the stairwell. His pace quickened, they needed to go faster, get there quicker. Time was running out.

One minute.

Hope seemed so close and yet so far as they reached the last step. His whole body ached and his lungs worked overtime to suck in the cool Santa Barbara air. They were so close.

Rounding the corner of the clocktower, his heart rate tripled.

He wasn’t sure what Yin had prepared for her. Hundreds of scenarios had flown through his head in the past forty minutes but very rarely was reality worse than his imagination. Unfortunately, this time reality was much worse.

She was strapped to a chair, dangling off the edge of the clocktower. Only a thick cable connected her to the clock, keeping her from plummeting into the streets below. It terrified him that she wasn’t moving except for the loose strands of her blonde hair fluttering in the wind. He wasn’t sure if she remained motionless because of shock or because she had accepted her fate but it made his stomach tighten all the same.

The wire was immediately the focus of his attention. Maybe if they could move it, they could pull her away from the edge. To safety.

The minute he touched it, his hand erupted in agony, searing pain flowing from his palm and tingling up his arm. He jumped back, staring open-mouthed at the singed flesh, fighting back a surge of bile.

Grinding alerted them to the moving clock as the large hand crept towards the cable. They were out of time.

Thinking quickly, he ducked under the wire- being careful as to not burn himself again- and did the only thing he could do. He grabbed onto the clock hand, using all of his strength to stop its march towards her death- to stop time.

The contact with his burned hand was unpleasant, the pain tripling as it shot through his arms. The edge of the hour hand was sharp. He could feel it cutting into his hand as his muscles strained to hold it back.

He could barely breathe, all his attention on keeping Juliet from plummeting over that edge.

The seconds felt like hours. Arms shaking, he propped up a foot on a piece of stone jutting out from the building, using it as leverage. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold it, his hands were starting to go numb, his arms tingling. Any moment now his hands were going to slip and the cable would be cut. He couldn’t let that happen, couldn’t let something bad happen to Juliet but he didn’t know how much longer he would last.

He owed Carlton big time as there was a shudder. The gears came to a grinding halt, the hand no longer fighting back. He glanced at his palms- the flesh broken and marred- and then back up at the clock, making sure it wouldn’t move again.

Once he was sure, he didn’t waste any more time stumbling over to Juliet, arriving at the same time as Lassiter. They muttered reassurances as her gag was removed, their hands rubbing her shoulders as they tried to soothe her but knew nothing really would.

The second she was on solid ground, Gus could breathe again. He knew he’d have to go get his hands checked out and give his statement but for now, he settled on watching her. She was surrounded by EMT’s but she was safe, they hadn’t lost her.

He needed to call Shawn, let him know that she was okay but he took one final glance at the stopped clock hands.

4:30 am.

Yin was wrong, she didn’t drop. She was safe. He didn’t let her or Shawn down.

They all had more time.

[disneydreamlights]

Training Days

FFN | AO3

Summary: "Oh, and by "us," I mean me and Lea. He's really sorry for all the trouble he caused. I told him it's fine, but he won't stop apologizing. I'll admit that I was a little scared of him at first, but I've gotten to know him better. All he wanted was to help his friend. Honestly, it's hard not to like him."

A peek into Kairi's and Lea's days of learning how to use the Keyblade. Written for Step Forward: A Kairi Fanzine

A/N: I would very much like to thank @kairizine​ for letting me work on this project. You guys are absolutely amazing and I couldn’t say how much I enjoyed being a part of this zine. For all my followers who haven’t had a chance to pick up this lovely zine, a second round of pre-orders is dropping on July 5th, so you guys should check that out for sure! Also tumblr fucked my formatting press f to pay respects.

It had been two weeks since Kairi started training with Axel. Or at least, it felt like it had been two weeks. Merlin said that the world they were training in existed outside of time, so it probably wasn’t that long to everybody else. But for her at least, it was valuable time. Time where she could learn how to use her Keyblade properly, and to finally get her chance to fight.

She also had time to interact with the man who had—at one point—kidnapped her. That was something she was still coming to terms with. Axel saved Sora and apologized for what he’d done to her, but it still didn’t make it any easier to be training with him.

“Yo, Kairi.” Speaking of Axel, the redhead showed up once more, looking almost uncomfortable with the idea of having to pull her from her thoughts. If there was some reassurance to all this, at least Axel was just as bad with handling talking to his former victim as she was talking to her kidnapper. “Thought you could use some company. Merlin said you’d just finished learning about how to use Fire, and as the resident fire elemental, I call myself an expert in the subject.” If it weren’t for the fact that his hand was running through his hair, a sign of nerves, Kairi would’ve been sure his discomfort was perceived on her end given the way he didn’t seem bothered.

“I’m fine, Axel, I don’t need teaching from a ‘fire expert’”—she raised fingers, making air quotations at Axel to show she didn’t really buy it—“to learn how to use a Fire spell. Merlin has it all covered.”

“Right.” She noticed the way Axel slightly deflated at her refusal to train with him. When he spoke, his voice sounded more hollow. “Hey, Kairi, just so you know, I really am sorry. About kidnapping you, and all that. I know I’ve said it before but I wanted to say it again.” He left, and Kairi couldn’t help the unpleasant feeling that arose in her heart.

-x-

Another few weeks of training passed, Merlin said it hadn’t even been a day in the real world. Which was fair, it meant Sora and Riku wouldn’t be missing her too long, at least. And it meant another month around Axel, training. She was slowly feeling competent: Merlin had decided that it was time to start training her in using her light as a weapon. It was a sign of progress towards becoming a Keyblade Master.

What was odd was that when she stumbled upon the normally energetic pyromaniac this time, Axel seemed to be a little less upbeat than normal. He’d continued his stream of apologies, expressing how much he regretted what he’d done, but Kairi doubted that’s what had him down. Deciding it was finally time to return his interest in getting to know her, she sat down next to him. “What’s on your mind?”

Axel jumped, having not noticed her approach. “It’s nothing,” he waved her off.

Kairi frowned, looking at Axel skeptically. He raised his hands in defense of her stare. “Okay, so maybe it is something, but it’s not really something you need to worry about. Just that I can’t shake the feeling…” He shook his head, almost as though he couldn’t believe what he was saying.

“Feeling?” Kairi asked. She didn’t really expect him to give him an answer, but she wanted to know. It was obviously something a lot more important than he was letting on. When he didn’t answer after another moment, she smiled. “I didn’t know you had any of those.”

“Ha ha.” Axel gave a sarcastic laugh, but also a small smile at Kairi, grateful for the joke. “Hey, y’know I’m not a Nobody anymore. I can feel, just as much as you can!” It seemed he wasn’t willing to confront what was going on, and she couldn’t blame him for that. It wasn’t like she’d given him any reason to believe she trusted or wanted to help him.

And to be fair, she wasn’t sure that she did trust him. She may not have been mad over it right now, but despite his regret  Axel had still kidnapped her. It seemed like a good idea to not press for now. “Sure you can, just like you couldn’t when you were a Nobody.”

“I couldn’t!”

Kairi laughed at his protest. “You don’t kidnap somebody to see your best friend again if you don’t care about them a little.”

Axel sat there for a moment. “Right, sometimes I forget that even if I couldn’t feel guilt over what I was doing to you, I still felt something.” Maybe it was his way of justifying it: he couldn’t feel. He couldn’t feel bad over what he had done because he couldn’t feel. But he seemed to be feeling the regret of that now. “I know you’re probably tired of hearing it, but I’m sorry, about all of that.”

For the first time, she acknowledged his apology. “I know.”

-x-

Two months of rigorous training. Two months of her only company being Merlin and Axel. Although they still weren’t close friends, things had started getting easier between her and Axel. Kairi found herself talking to him more since she’d found him that day, or at least she was more willing to talk to him. For one, she almost believed his apologies in that he truly did regret his actions.

This time as Axel approached Kairi, he seemed slightly more at ease. “Hey, how’s training been going so far?”

“Hey Axel,” Kairi smiled. She couldn’t believe that she was at least appreciating Axel’s presence for once. “I’m pretty sure soon I’ll be ready to take you down. What about you, think you can take me on?”

“Nah, not like I have years of experience on you. Anyways I wanted to see if you were up for a bit of a break.” He reached into his pocket, pulling out two light blue bars of ice cream. Kairi couldn’t help the way that her eyes lit up as soon as she saw them. “Whenever we finished a mission, Roxas and I would go to the clocktower back in Twilight Town and share these.”

Kairi grabbed the ice cream bar, taking a small bite and wincing as the cold hit her teeth. “I like that tradition.”

“I figured we could resume it, now that we’re training together.” Axel grinned, seemingly relieved that she was willing to enjoy it. “Or at least that’s what Merlin said, starting tomorrow we’ll be training together.”

“I’ll look forward to it. Don’t think I’ll go easy on you either.” Of course, that revelation couldn’t help but make her a little nervous. But Merlin wouldn’t have her fight Axel if he didn’t think she could hold her own against him.

“Wouldn’t dream of anything less.” It seemed Axel was at least willing to go along with it. “Hey, Kairi, I just want you to know-”

“You’re sorry, I know.” Kairi smiled, leaving Axel looking at her in surprise.

“I’ve said it that many times now?”

“I think I got it memorized.”

-x-

After yet another loss to Axel, Kairi and her sparring partner decided to enjoy a treat. There were still quite a few losses in their practice fights, but she did have a couple wins to her name, and that was progress enough for them to be celebrating. He reached into the cooler, handing her an ice cream bar as they sat on the cliffside watching the sunset. Axel told some stories from the Organization to keep her entertained.

“So I mentioned how I got sent on solo missions all the time for the Organization, stuff that needed to be kept...under the radar.” He seemed hesitant to fully explain what that meant, which made Kairi all the more curious about what he was trying to explain. “See, a lot of those had me going to Castle Oblivion—terrible place by the way, more boring to look at than The Castle that Never Was and impossible to navigate, anyways—I was chasing down some chamber for our boss. Not sure what was in it, but what I do know is the Castle did not want us finding it. So this one time I was–”

“Castle Oblivion...” Kairi frowned, causing Axel to pause in his account. Sora had never mentioned the castle in his stories, and Riku had only mentioned it a couple of times in passing, yet the name brought with it a feeling of dread… “That means you know Naminé?”

Axel nodded. “That’s right. I was one of the people who was guarding her while she messed with Sora’s memories.” Before Kairi could say anything more, Axel raised his hand, stopping her. “Don’t worry, I wasn’t one of the ones hurting her! I was actually the one that helped her.”

He...what? Kairi stared at him in confusion. “Right, Sora...probably wouldn’t have been able to tell you. I was the one who let Naminé go.”

Although she couldn’t communicate directly with the blonde to confirm Axel’s story, she felt Naminé faintly in her heart, confirming Axel’s story: “He did. If it weren’t for him, Sora might be lost forever to the Organization’s trap…”

“Really?”

“I think it was because he didn’t want the Organization to win. For my freedom, I owe him, almost as much as I do Sora…”

“Hello, Kairi! You in there?” Axel waved his hand in front of Kairi, pulling her attention away from Naminé’s presence, which had once more gone dormant in her heart.

Kairi smiled. “Just getting a message to pass on. Naminé says thank you.”

Axel looked at her, and his eyebrows slightly raised in surprise. She wasn’t sure if he hadn’t expected Naminé’s thanks, for the two of them to have any form of communication, or for Kairi to pass on the message.“She did? I don’t suppose she left a message for you to accept my apology this time, did she?”

Kairi paused for a moment, as though she were conversing with Naminé once more before smiling. “Nope, nothing on that one.”

Lea laughed at her answer, and it wasn’t long before Kairi found herself laughing too at his reaction.

She was still a long way to forgiving him for what he’d done, but maybe Lea wasn’t so bad.

-x-

It became a tradition to meet up after training to snack on some ice cream and talk about whatever thoughts crossed their minds. Most of the time, conversation flowed between Kairi and Lea easier than she would have ever suspected when their training had first begun, but right now the exchange seemed more one sided than ever. Lea appeared lost in thought, and Kairi’s attempts at getting him to talk about the various details of his life were earning no results.

Normally she would have been content to leave that where it was—Lea wouldn’t have confided in her anyways. But now she could tell there was something bothering him, and she didn’t feel right leaving it alone. “Lea, are you alright?”

“Huh?” He shook his head before giving a laugh, running his hand through his hair as though nervous. “I guess I’m just distracted. I was thinking about an old friend.” She stayed silent, and after a moment Lea continued. “You know Saïx–I’m serious, stop staring at me like I’ve grown a second head or something.”

After another quiet moment, she finally managed to find her voice: “What!?” Lea was friends with Saïx? How could Lea be have been friends with him of all people? Saïx kidnapped her!

...Just like Axel had.

The realization that she’d nearly forgotten that Lea had kidnapped her was sobering, but it did manage to put a damper on some of her surprise at least. “You and Saïx were friends?”

“I know, a big shocker now, but back when we were kids, Isa was my best friend.” Lea seemed quick to play if off. “We used to get into a lot of trouble back in the good old days. Most of it was my idea.” A low chuckle escaped him. It sounded bitter, like Lea still couldn’t believe just how much things changed. “We would sneak into Ansem’s castle so we could get a peak at his experiments, or just to cause some problems.”

“That doesn’t sound like Saïx.” Kairi pointed out. But it made sense. They had both lost their hearts, and the Lea in front of her felt as different from Axel as the Isa he was describing sounded from Saïx.

“Losing your heart changes you.” Lea’s answer was simple, but he had a point. Even if they had hearts, neither he nor Saïx learned that fact until it was already too late.

Kairi nodded. “That’s why you both drifted apart?”

“Part of it.” For once it looked like Lea was getting uncomfortable with the direction they were going in. Isa, it seemed, was a much more touchy subject than Kairi would’ve guessed. “He changed for sure, but there was also the way he treated them. Roxas and–”

“And?”

Lea didn’t respond. He wasn’t sure of who the “and” he was referring to was in the first place.

They ate their ice cream in silence, neither of them sure how to continue for a few minutes before Lea finally spoke. “You know, when I first saw you, you reminded me of somebody. I don’t know who just...somebody important.”

“Naminé, maybe?” It made the most sense, Naminé was her Nobody. Lea knew her. That had to be it. Except he shook his head.

“Nah, not her. I’d know if it was her I was thinking of. I just don’t remember. That’s why I was so quiet that day.” Kairi knew which one he was talking about. The one where they’d had their first real conversation.

The way Lea looked now reminded Kairi a lot of that day. She’d never seen him so muted before, and it was still an uncomfortable look for him now. “Don’t worry, Lea. Once we beat Xehanort, I’ll ask Naminé help you with your memories, and we’ll find whoever they are.” And she would, she didn’t turn her back on her friends so easily.

“Right, thanks.” Lea turned to her, still frowning in thought for a moment.

He grinned shortly after, though Kairi wasn’t sure if it was a realization about who he was forgetting or a joke until moments later when he said, “hey, have you ever thought of dying your hair black.”

“What?”

Lea raised his hands up in defense. “I just can’t shake the image of you with black hair it sounds right.”

“Lea, that’s not funny!”

“Sure it is!” He laughed, and she lightly smacked him for the joke. “Sorry, sorry, alright I’ll let it go...for now.”

“Lea!”

-x-

It didn’t take Kairi long to realize that their time in the training world was coming to a close. Her fighting was as flawless as one could get when kept out of the heat of a real battle, and Lea had stopped trying to throw his Keyblade every ten seconds. To her surprise, he had adjusted to close combat and swordplay remarkably well. Merlin had told Riku would be there with some new equipment in a few days. It all made it feel very real, and very final.

Which was why Lea and Kairi had returned to their cliffside hangout, trading stories and sharing idle conversation. Lea told stories of teaching Roxas about the worlds and his adventures in Radiant Garden, and in return Kairi told stories about her time on the islands. It was the best they could do to keep their mind off the battle that was looming ever closer.

“Sora was so surprised when I told him I couldn’t swim. He tried to teach me but his idea of teaching me meant having me just start flailing my arms in the water,” Kairi laughed as she remembered the story from a couple months after arriving on Destiny Islands. “If it wasn’t for Riku, he might’ve drowned me with how bad his instructions were.”

“You’d think Sora would know how to swim better than that since he lived there. Hard to believe he couldn’t even explain the motions he was making.”

“His heart was in the right place, at least.” Kairi smiled. It was a fond memory of her friends, one she would’ve liked to think on a little longer.

Lea laughed as well, and they fell into an easy silence as Kairi started searching her mind for the next ridiculous story of her adventures with her friends.

“Hey, Kairi.” Lea raised his hand hesitantly, almost as though he were regretting what he was about to say. “I just, ya know, in case everything goes wrong, I just wanted to say sorry again. You know for–”

“I know.” She cut him off before he could ramble further. She’d heard it more than enough times over the course of their time training together. “And I forgive you.”

[imagine-organization-xiii]

How would the guys react if the reader whispered ”I want to ride you” into their ear in public?

Sam and the others on Discord are pretty much the ones who do all the nsfw stuff for me now LOL

Xemnas

Would not pay the words any attention while out in public. And you BEST hope that no one else heard you say it. Because as soon as you get back to your quarters, or abandoned hallway, or really once anywhere you two are alone, expect your words to come back to haunt you. Lord Xemnas does not excuse misbehavior in his castle, from anyone. Yourself included. So… prepare for some serious torture.

“You wanted to… what was it again, my pet? I can’t seem to hear you. Beg for me and maybe you’ll get your wish.”

Xigbar

Probably will laugh as soon as the words leave your lips. And I’m not talking a light chuckle. I mean a good hearty laugh. One that anyone nearby will hear, along with some kind of comment about how you were  insatiable. But Xigbar wasn’t one to hold out on a good time. Within a second, the two of you are warped out of the public eye and to the nearest place that the two of you could be alone.  Of course this could be anywhere.

“Ahahaha! Aw babe! You’re an animal, huh? You little wild thing! Welp, Let’s get outta here, shall we?”

Xaldin

You whisper into the towering mans ear as you sat in his lap in the Grey Area. Normally, Xaldin wasn’t one for public affection, but today felt fairly special. But as soon as you finish your request, the dreadlocked man’s eyes go momentarily wide before choking on the air he was breathing and erupting in a giant coughing fit. He did not expect that. At all. BUT– he is not mad. Knowing that the one he loves wants him is like a little swell of pride. And after the coughing fades, the burly man chuckles softly to himself before taking your hand and carrying you bridal style to your chambers.

*cough* *cough* *cough* Oh dear… You really don’t like to pull punches, do you?“

Vexen

No one else was at the lab that day other than you, Vexen, and Zexion; the usual crew. You thought it was okay to be a little flirtatious with your dear partner. Well, you thought very wrong. You whispered naughty words in his ear and the blonde scientist gasped out in audible horror. You could swear his cheeks were also a shade of light pink.

To make matters worse, you then received a lengthy riot act on what was and was not appropriate for the workplace and how you were lucky that he, Vexen, would not be filing a report with upper management. You knew it was only because everyone knew you were an item and no one cared anymore. The real bummer here is that Zexion saw the whole berating and gave you a really grossed out look that teenagers give their parents when they flirt with each other.

”*Gaaaaaasp* Y/N!!!! That is hardly appropriate given our being in the laboratory! This is not something I should expect from someone of your rank and maturity, but i shouldn’t be surprised!“ And you kind of tune out because he rants for a long time.

Lexaeus

Doesn’t matter where you are. You could be alone at home with no one around. Doesn’t matter. You whisper that shit into Lexaeus’ ear and "The Silent Hero” turns into “The Silent Tomato”. But this of course, isn’t at home. It’s in the middle of the grey area with a ton of people around. So it’s worse.

The man is SO red. Redder than you had ever seen him! And you suddenly felt a pang of guilt for even thinking of saying it aloud and embarrassing him so much. Luckily, the only one who noticed was Xigbar, but that also meant that everyone else was going to find out soon too. Later that night, you apologize to the soft man, and you make up and make some soft lovin’s to make up.

“…It’s alright…  Knowing you want me… in that way Is reward enough…”

Zexion

This boy is so damn sweet. He is in the lab with Vexen and Lexaeus nearby when you decide to try and give him a little thrill. And not only does this kid turn a BEET red, oh no, his expression turns into one of pure momentary terror and quickly turns to face you, making small but frantic waves and urging you to be quiet. He then checks to see if anyone heard what you had said, and when things look all clear he turns back to you, far more relaxed. It was kind of like a child in fear of getting caught by his parents, or maybe he was just afraid for his coworkers to find out about his personal life? Either way, it was very, very cute!

"Ah! ShhHS ShhhS HHhh ShHhhshhh! ….. Ah.. alright… that was.. a close one.. Maybe.. we should talk about this later.. when no one is around…”

Saix

As you could expect, Saix is one to give a very hot and cold response to just about anything you do. You are in his favorite place by the window when you decide to whisper something spontaneous in his ear. At first, the man says nothing, simply staring at his clipboard as if nothing happened. You assume he didn’t hear you. And no one else for that matter. Oh well. But boy did he hear you.

As soon as whoever was in the room exits, the air changes. In one swift motion, the Luna Diviner has his hands on your shoulders and  has slammed your body up against the window. Hard. Honestly you’re surprised it didn’t shatter from the force.  The man looks deep into your eyes with his golden orbs, and snarls into your ear. And later that night, you are in a heap of trouble.

“Don’t you ever jeopardize our work like that again. Don’t you worry, I know when you want me. I can sense it. I know when your body aches and yearns and desires. But I am the one that will make the calls on where and when we take care of these things. And this place is Not it. You will know soon enough.”

Axel

You and the Sea Salt Trio sat on the clocktower, enjoying some Sea Salt Ice Cream, as you always did after a hard day of work was done. It was nice to be invited on outings like this sometimes, but as you sat on the towers edge, eating your ice cream and Roxas and Xion engrossed in a conversation about something, your mind went to places dark and steamy. Feeling a little adventurous, you lean over and whisper some sultry words into Axel’s ear.

It takes him a second to process what your saying, mindlessly nodding and ‘uh huh’-ing until he puts the sentence together in his mind. And as soon as it does, his expression changes and his cheeks turn a flushed pink as he covers his nose and mouth with his hand and looks away sheepishly. “Ah– Ah.. Oh.. come on.. you don’t mean that.. Don’t be messing with me like that..”

The kids suddenly have stopped with whatever conversation they were having and look over to see what has Axel in such a state. “Axel? What’s wrong? What did Y/N say?”

“Nothing! Nothing! She didn’t say anything! Come on, you two, its time to head back.” The two younger members groaned as they slowly stood to portal back home. And when they weren’t looking, you caught the redhead staring at you with an expression you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Later that night, you remind Axel of just how cute he looked, dumbstruck and embarrassed.“Alright.. Alright… You got me.. But next time, I’m not gonna be as startled. Got it Memorized?”

Demyx

Today, Demyx is doing what he usually likes to do when he isn’t trying to avoid work or hiding from superiors - was loudly practicing his sitar in the most inconvenient places in the castle. Today that inconvenient place was in the Cafeteria that Never Was. While most times, no one wanted to hear the Melodious Nocturne play, the Cafeteria was one of the places where people didn’t mind as much to hear music. People liked the atmosphere to listen to music as they ate their food and enjoyed small conversation.

You often liked to watch the boy play his music. It was one of the few times that he was truly at peace. But sometimes you got bored and wanted to throw Demyx off his rhythm. So, as he played on and on, you sneak behind the musician and get super close his ear, and whisper something sneaky into his ear. And under the guise of music, no one else could hear. Well, until the boys playing stops completely as the last word leaves your lips.He was still the only one who heard you, you were pretty sure. But with the sudden lack of music, all conversation and excess noise, stopped, turning all the attention to the little musician that is currently turning the deepest pink.

The silence permeated through the cafeteria. And as all eyes fell on him, the small boy let our a panicked squeak and the color on his cheeks started to phase from a pink color to a deep red. It was clear your words had an effect, but now it was a little much. You quickly took the musicians hand and led him out of the dining area and into one of the castles many abandoned hallways. You turn to face Demyx when you finally stop walking. It looks like he may cry. He’s embarrassed. Guilt-ridden, you give the boy a soft hug.

“You alright?” You ask.“Yeah.. I’m okay.. Did.. you really mean that? What you said in there?” You nod and suddenly, the weepy boy in front of turns back into the mischievous boy you adored. “Okay.. good. Because we’re going back to my room. It’s Demyx Time.”

Luxord

The Organization is, for the most part, a very serious organization with serious goals and aspirations. But when the work is over for the day, many of the members of the Organization like to relax and do things they enjoyed in their life. For some of the older members, that was meeting up on Friday nights in secret, and playing a few rounds of poker. This was Luxord’s idea, obviously, but win or lose, many of these members liked to play and forget work for even just the night.

The usual crew was there; Luxord, Xigbar, Xaldin, Lexaeus, and then there was you. Since it was Luxord’s event, you were graciously allowed to come to watch the games when you found out about them. This was unlike Demyx who found out and was immediately ignored when he asked to come along. But you enjoyed these games, and sometimes you even played a round or two.

Tonight, you watched as Luxord’s calloused hands dealt out the cards. Watching his fingers shuffle the cards with such precision and grace was something of beauty, but tonight it brought you to think of your own desires. As the Gambler of Fate watched upon his peers with a confident sneer, you crept over to stand behind him. You leaned down as he waited for his players to fold, and whispered the honey-laced words into his pierced ears.

There was a moment of silent as the sentence the gambler had started hung in the air to hear what his beloved had to say. There was another moment of silence in the room, the others only hearing nothing but your hushed and muffled whisper. And then the room erupted with Luxord’s hearty laugh. The others never did find out what the gambler was going to say before you interrupted him, as Luxord immediately called the poker night to an early end and left with to you to, they assumed, fuck the ever living shit out of you.

“Oh come on now, men! This is Poker!! You shouldn’t afraid to— …… ha HA Ha Ha! Is that so, Love? Alright, Gentlemen.  This has been a sheer delight, as always. But I suddenly have much better plans for the evening. So with that, I bid you goodnight. Come now, Love. We have business to attend to.”

Marluxia

While most of his free time is spent in the privacy of his personal garden, what many people outside of the org didn’t know was that Marluxia also frequently liked to read in the silence of the castles expansive library. And sometimes you liked to tag along!

Today, the two of you were not alone in the library however. Zexion, Xaldin, and Saix were all looking through the library, lost in their own books. Everyone, that is, except for you. You were bored. Reading was great but your mind was on… other things, so as Marluxia stood and walked to an aisle to take a new book, you decided to follow. As the slender man faced the shelf, you leaned up from behind him and whispered into the assassins ear.

At first, he doesn’t react, as if he didn’t hear you, but in a swift motion, Marluxia turned a full 180, grabbed you by the shoulders and pushed you back that you’re pinned against the adjacent bookcase. All of this with the most grace and silence. Blue eyes met yours with a look of passion that sent a pang of desire straight to your loins. A long fingers made their way up, gently caressed your face and made their way, tangling into locks of your hair.  Then, the assassin leaned down, his sapphire eyes looking into your souls and making you feel as if  your body was on fire.

Lips locked. Hands wandered. It was exhilarating. There wasn’t much reading after that. Though getting caught kissing in the bookcases was not your plan of that day. Plus Zexion was kinda pissed to see you kissing on top of his books.“Aw guys… not again… can you.. can you not do that..? Ugh…”

“Don’t be jealous, kid. It’s alright.. there’s plenty of other places we could go…” And with a flurry of rose petals, you were gone, whisked away to somewhere you two could definitely be alone.

[whoaiminactivenowwepa]

On The Run (fanfic) - Chapter 1: The Deal

Summary: Lee decides to leave Texas with a childhood enemy after agreeing to help each other out.

A/N: AND SO IT BEGINS. Woof, this is my first time doing this sort of thing. I had a lot of fun writing the interactions between these two and I really hope you guys enjoy it.

Word Count: 2681

Notes: I mention here that Hester is a jackrabbit when she’s really an arctic hare. In the canon, Lee doesn’t know that she’s a hare until he meets Iorek in Once Upon A Time In The North. Wanted to clear that up in case anyone here hasn't read the book.

Speaking of OUATITN, I never got to finish it yet either, and I took the liberty of writing in some tiny details that might contradict from it. So sorry if I accidentally get any Lee Scoresby backstory info wrong.

Anyways, enjoy!!

-----

"Can't you move any faster?" Lee Scoresby whines softly, waiting by the back door of the Wright’s family mansion.

After several more minutes, Jane suddenly emerges from the window above him and she climbs down the vines growing down the side of the brick exterior walls. Hanging around her shoulder was a satchel of the last few things she needed before they leave.

She releases the vines and lands on the grass right in front of Lee, taking him and his jackrabbit dæmon, Hester, by surprise.

She's followed by her own dæmon, a Eurasian lynx named Zachyre, the feline landing just as gracefully on all fours.

Lee blinks before he follows Jane, who is now running into the wheat field ahead where his new balloon had already been set up and ready to take off.

Jane was just Lee's age, in fact, a few months older. She was a beautiful young woman of slightly built but slender frame. Her hair was of short curly blonde and she wore an expensive-looking leather bomber jacket that reflected her wealth quite easily. The handkerchief tied around her neck was her signature touch. The handkerchief changes everyday but regardless, you almost never see her without one.

Their hearts race as they run down the golden wheat field and nostalgic memories of carefree childhoods resurface.

The two young adults were running down the fields like children on recess after a boring first period at kindergarten.

The cool spring breeze seemed to make the gold in Jane's hair fly, and the skyline of wooden ranch houses, towers and trees seemed to blaze past Lee like he was already soaring great speeds. They weren't even in the skies yet, but they had never felt so free.

Jane makes it first into the gondola, where she had already began removing the ropes and anchors holding the balloon in place. Lee sprints faster and hops inside right at the nick of time.

The balloon immediately takes off as the draft pulls them high into the stars. After a few moments, the balloon stabilizes in the air. Lee takes off his hat and sinks onto the floor as he and Hester catch their breath.

"Jeez... Were you planning on leaving us?"

"You weren't running fast enough" She laughs and sinks down onto the floor as well, breathing heavily.

Whatever, I still made it, he thinks to himself.

This was it. It was finally happening.

Lee had wanted to leave the country for so long and that day has finally come.

He has no expectations, no specific plans. Just a hunger to be in some place new; to start a new life and completely start over in unknown lands, where nobody knows his name and nobody can hold him back.

He could go to the beaches of Greece. He could mine jewels and diamonds in the Malaysian mountains. He could befriend Eastern witches. He could fly to the North and meet a panserbjørne. The possibilities were endless.

It would be just he and Hester against the world. Well, at least that was what he had originally planned. But things had gotten... Complicated.

Jane opens her satchel to double check its contents. Inside it was some extra gold and pearl jewelry she planned to sell for extra money, and an aeronaut's manual. It was this small thick book with a picture of a balloon on the cover.

He honestly couldn't believe he decided to take her with him. He had always quite loathed her family name for how they bossed the low and middle class around liked they owned everything and everyone there... Which they sort of did, but that wasn't the point.

It took Hester some convincing him for him to realize it, but he needed some guidance if he really wanted to go through with their little "expedition". Not just guidance on where he should go first but also on actually flying the balloon. Thankfully, he knew someone who was knowledgeable with both.

The only problem was... That person was Jane Miller Wright. They were never exactly in the best of terms since childhood, and he had always found her to be quite the annoying presence.

But she offered a deal with him. It was simple: She'll give him flying lessons if he agrees to take her away from home. She wouldn't tell exactly where she was going, just what she was leaving behind, and that she'll show him where she needed to go.

-----

Lee gets on his feet to look at the scenery. The town was lit up by small glowing dots of streetlights and outdoor porch lights.

The moonlight glimmered over miles and miles of crops, fields and open land where he used to spend his weekends re-enacting the Battle of the Alamo with the orphans his uncle and aunt looked after.

He could see them just pass the clocktower he once climbed with a childhood friend long ago. It was the tallest structure in town where every sunset, it promised a beautiful view of the sun meeting the dots of trees on the horizon.

This town carried 21 years worth of memories. It was almost as if his whole life was being laid out before him... And he's about to leave all of it behind. Gosh, he didn't realize how much he was leaving behind.

Lee had been considerably quiet for quite some time now, and it wasn't very like him.

"Hey. Lee, you in there?"

Lee stands there in silence for a bit before he gets out of his own head.

"Sorry, I was just... Thinking."

"Really? That's a rare occurrence."

"Oh, har-dee-har." Lee groans as he puts on a thin coat that was hung on one of the balloon's load supports.

"This whole 'venture was my idea, you know."

"Yes, and you've hardly thought through it. You don't even have the skills to fly this thing"

"That's exactly why I agreed to bring you here, isn't it?"

Lee's quick hands suddenly pulls out the aeronaut's manual from behind his back. Jane scoffs. Now that was one impressive skill Lee had that she didn't.

"So where do we start? Teach me, teacher."

"And if I don't?"

"I really hope you didn’t hit your head when you jumped out of that window. Seems like you amnesia-d the deal out of your noggin. Look, if you don't fill your end of the bargain, I'm afraid I'd have to take you right back to that filthy mansion of yours."

“You will do that?”

“Of course I will.”

Lee steps closer towards her. Just inches apart, the tall man looked down at her with dark, intimidating eyes.

"After all, balloon's nothing without its pilot." he points at the subtitle of the manual which reads exactly that:

A balloon is nothing without its pilot.

They hold each other's glare, both of them insistently standing their ground. Suddenly, a devilish smirk tugs on Jane's face.

"Has it not occurred to you that this balloon's already got a pilot?"

Lee's brows furrow "What do you mean?"

Then suddenly, it dawns on him. Hester groans and mutters to herself as the thought only now comes to her as well.

Shit. He really didn’t think this through.

She's the only one here who knows how to fly this balloon.

Shit, the deal was a ploy! And she really was trying to leave him behind back there. That part of her plan didn't work out, but it didn't matter. She's still the only one here with flying experience, so with or without him, this balloon was practically hers now.

Jane laughs at the look on Lee's face and grabs the book back from his hand while he's pre-occupied.

She strides onto the far edge of the gondola and began working with the ropes and levers in a pattern that was alien to Lee.

He groans. She's showing off.

"So this whole thing was just about stealing my balloon, huh?"

"I'm honestly surprised it took you this long to figure it out." Jane comments, side-eyeing him as she worked. Boy, he would do anything for a chance to smack that smirk off of her face.

"She's joking." Zachyre hops onto the cushion seats so he's on Lee's eye level. "We weren't trying to steal from you."

"Are you, now? I'm pretty sure you just stole my balloon from me... And kidnapping me too, I suppose."

Lee faces back to Jane, "and here I thought I could trust you. I should've known thievery runs in the family." He says in a mocking tone.

His last statement almost sets her off.

"You're one to talk about thievery--!" Jane angrily stomps as she walked up to Lee. Lee takes a few steps back, actually getting worried at what she’s about to do with the rope she was holding, but Zachery steps in her way, purring loudly as he rubbed himself against her leg. It always calms her down.

"He's just trying to aggravate you; trying to make you regret getting involved. But we shouldn't give him that satisfaction." Zachyre explains softly.

Jane takes a moment to collect herself with a deep breath.

"Alright, cowboy. For your information, I haven't broken any promises yet. Your balloon is still yours, I'm merely taking over management."

"Ah." Lee replies, dry sarcasm in his voice.

"I'm a lady of my word; I will teach you how to fly... In time."

She walks back towards Lee, locking a potent glare as she ties a knot with the rope in her hands.

"But in the meantime, balloon's nothing without its pilot, isn't that right, Mr. Scoresby?"

She walks away, her hair flips as she turns to continue what she was doing. Hester giggles in amusement. She had to admit, this was entertaining to watch.

Lee as well couldn't help but smile as a soft chuckle escaped him.

"Alright, then... Captain." Lee rolls his eyes. "Perhaps the least you could do is tell me where we're going?"

Jane glares at Lee with the same belittling side-eye look. She hesitates, then rummages through her other bags. After a few seconds, she pulls out a large folded piece of paper and sets it down on the floor. It was a world map.

Lee kneels down next to her while Hester approaches one edge of the paper. They were clearly excited. They never had the money to travel outside of Texas, so anywhere seemed to be a great place to start.

Jane studies the map for a few seconds then points on a drawing of European land.

"London." she concludes.

Lee squints and his brows furrow.

"London? Seriously?" Hester grunts.

"What?" Jane raises an eyebrow at her.

London was always known to be a bit of a fancified city. The people there were clean and wealthy and flaunted flamboyant expensive apparel and jewelry. Probably Jane and Zachyre's type of destination but definitely not Lee and Hester's.

"I'm not sure if you've noticed, but Hester and I won't exactly... Fit in." Lee gestures himself and his dirty farmer attire. His moustache was thin and as messy as his hair. He was wearing an old checkered button-up under a thin cotton coat, with dark blue jeans and boots covered in mud and wheat.

"Why do you even need to go to London of all places?"

"Why not? I thought you wanted to see new places. I'm sure you've never been to a city like London before."

Lee raises an eyebrow. Was that another brag?

"No, but I was just hoping for something more... I don't know, fun? Like a beach, or an art museum in France or at least some elephants in Africa or something."

"There's plenty of things to do in London! And if you're so concerned about fitting in, I'll buy you some clothes when we get there."

"You will?"

"Yes. You have a terrible fashion sense anyways."

Lee laughs then shoots back. “Says the girl in bell bottom jeans.”

“What’s wrong with my jeans?”

“Those stopped being cool like, 2 years ago.”

They go on like this for what feels like hours. At first, it was a small debate over whether or not bell bottom jeans were still cool. Afterwards, they continued  nitpicking the smallest things about each other, just mocking one another with Jane’s petty insults and Lee’s purposefully terribly jokes.

Hours pass. Finally, the gondola had reduced to a comfortable silence as small beams of orange sunlight began to appear in the sky.

Jane looked after the balloon as they continued going northwest, while Lee sat quietly on the cushioned seats reading the aeronaut's manual. Every now and then, he'd look up at Jane to watch her work, trying to figure out on his own which was which and what did what.

Lee looks at the opposite side of the balloon and noticed Zachyre and Hester whispering something to each other. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but they seemed to be enjoying themselves.

Eventually, Lee began to yawn. His eyelids were beginning to feel heavy and he could barely comprehend what he was reading anymore. That meant that Hester was getting tired too. She excuses herself from her conversation with Zachyre and hops on the seat next to Lee.

“We should sleep” she says as she gets on his lap and moves the manual out of his line of sight.

“Hello to you too. You two seemed to be enjoying yourselves.”

“I’d say the same about you and Jane.” She replies. Lee exhales sharply from his nose.

“Well, you clearly weren’t listening to our conversation. We were arguing over bell-bottom pants and haircuts, Hester.”

“And you were having fun. Both of you. I could tell, and Zachyre could too.”

Lee gives her a confused look. That’s what they were talking about the whole time?

“Look, I’m as surprised as you are. But you know, we’ve never really got to spend time with them alone before. Maybe leaving with their company wasn’t such a bad idea after all.”

Lee considered her words in his silence. She had a point. He hardly knows anything about her other than her last name was Wright. They lived in opposite sides of the city, so they only ever saw each other in local events and competitions. Whenever that happens, they either get into discourse with each other’s group of friends or prefer to avoid each other. But surprisingly, spending alone time with her doesn’t feel very different from spending alone time with his own good friends.

The mocking, the petty insults, the deprecating jokes followed by laughter. Only difference is that Jane is a girl, and he'd never met a woman with her kind of attitude. In fact, now that he thought about it, that quality about her is kind of admirable.

The idea of having quality bonding time with Jane seemed crazy to him. He looks over at her. She’s sitting down now, just watching the clouds fly past her and feeling the wind in her hair, deep in her own thoughts. He began to wonder if similar thoughts were running around her mind about him. Is she enjoying his company? Is she as surprised about it as he is?

“You know she tried to steal our balloon and leave us behind, right?” Lee looks back at Hester.

“Honestly? It seemed like something you would do.”

Lee chuckles. Perhaps he and Jane had more in common than he’d like to admit.

Before he could continue the thought, Hester suddenly cuddles up with him inside his coat. “Go to sleep.” She says with sterner tone in her voice. Lee wanted to stay awake, but Hester’s soft furry body against his stomach felt so warm and relaxing and cozy. It was making sleep all the more tempting.

He rests his hand over her and holds her close as he began to lean a bit onto the empty gas tank on his side. She’s right. She always is. About sleeping at least. He’s going to need a lot of rest for the adventure in London. Hopefully, it will be as memorable as Jane insists.

[imagine-loki]

Seiðmaðr

TITLE: Seiðmaðr

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 6/? AUTHOR: goldtrimmedspectacle ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki is attacked and forgets his past. Now riddled with amnesia, Loki must decide whether to follow his mind and return his memories, or to follow his heart and find true happiness. RATING: PG13. Will go up in later chapters. NOTES/WARNINGS: Angst. Can be found on AO3.

Hear on the wind how the pendulum swings Feel how the winter succumbs to the spring Over the palisade morning will break Rise up to meet it, oh sleeper awake

- Caesar, the Oh Hellos

CHAPTER SIX

You handed the butcher a handful of ingots as he passed the sealed package of meat over the counter, tied together with a thin string, and into your waiting hands. The burly man stood behind the counter with a large smile, rewarding your thanks with murmured ‘of course’, coated in the thick regional accent of western Innangard and nodding his thanks in turn. From the front of the counter, you watched him stash the coins inside a clay jar, allowing the few coins to fall into his growing collection, and waved as you slipped out of the front door.

  “Have a good day.”

  The door slammed shut as you stepped onto the busy streets of Sandnæs, leaving you alone on the butcher’s front step with a small package of food for the oncoming day.

  A woman bustled besides you, smiling apologetically as she reached for her rushing child and pulled them back into her arms. The precocious toddler squirmed in her arms for a few seconds and then fell into their mother’s chest with a soft noise, followed by the mother cooing and forcing herself into a fast gait. The toddler peered over their mother’s shoulder and cooed at you briefly, disappearing behind one of the central town buildings a moment later.

  Swayed by the sweetness of the child’s toothless smile, you juggled the crinkled parcel with one hand and slid the meat into your side satchel alongside a loaf of bread that you had purchased from a nearby bakery. The endearing front and sign, spelling out Sæti Bakery in cursive, had lured you in – as did the sweet scent of custard pastries and cake.

  No wonder it was Bjarke’s favourite bakery in Vanaheimr.

  It was endearing and mildly annoying at how vastly Bjarke praised the bakery every time he visited, groaning with every bite of their carrot and rhubarb cake. The crumbs would often fall into his beard and gather until he finished off all the pastries he desired, so you were thankful to have gone alone for once. Without the added groaning and drooling from Bjarke, that is.

  Closing the satchel once more, you glanced into a nearby shop window and read the time plastered on the shop’s clock face.

  Half hour past twelve.

  Two hours had passed since you had left Ormr in the care of Healer Kari’s hands. His deteriorating state and the news of concentrated seiðr poison in his bloodstream had left the man beaten and exhausted upon the bed on which he lay. Even after leaving him in the care of such an experience healer, as displayed through Kari’s quick actions and previous experience in the medical field, you still felt uncomfortable having left the aching man in the grasp of another – despite your prior comments on passing him off to the next living soul who could heal him.

  However, whether it was his easy and quick words, or the manner in which he teased you, or the sudden act of trust in which Ormr had read out his mother’s last words to him. The man had grown on you like a thick moss.

  Granted, not a sturdy piece of moss, for it was a new ungainly friendship, but there were traces of life and flourishment in the odd friendship that had blossomed between the two of you.

  It had also taken you another half hour to allow the full consequence and meaning of Kari’s words to settle within your pounding head. The adrenaline of Ormr’s passing sickness and the sudden kaleidoscope of information about Ormr’s gift in seiðr – which you had reacted in a rather dismissive manner, you now realised – having thrown your thought process for a mental loop.

  It was rather overwhelming, having discovered the man only a few days prior and healing him under the beating summer sun, only to create an odd unstable friendship with him. His mannerisms still puzzled you at times, leaving you unsure of what phrases would set him over the edge or what would be considered taunting rather than teasing in his eyes. However, you did note that friendships were often built in less extreme scenarios, but it did not mean that Ormr and yourself were incompatible as companions.

  There were many companionships that had been formed in far fewer than seven days.

  Burying the thought, you glanced down at the lunch you had bought yourself and Ormr, that is if he was awake when you returned and tried to remember the right turn in which the side streets would lead you towards the main road leading into Sandnæs’ centre. Thankfully, in the time you had been apart from Ormr you had reunited yourself with Sandnæs layout and the townspeople – a sight to behold, granted there were far fewer people here than in previous years. You had also been able to require lodgings for the next few nights, and you had been gifted the opportunity to visit the passing merchants’ market, where there were many different and unique items being sold for either very extravagant or suspiciously low prices.

  A golden pendant had caught your eye briefly, although the outrageous cost had made you decide it was a lost cause – no matter how enchanting the colourful design was.

  Walking back through the opening streets of Sandnæs, satchel in hand, you decided a slow stroll back to the healers was your best decision in that instance and chose to gaze through the windows of multiple shops and stalls. The sound of voices and rolling carts on the bustling streets was a welcomed backing track as your eyes wandered from necklace to vial to book and then back to the buffed suits of armours and engraved swords, as well as the fancy clothes depicted in high-esteemed tailors and their partnerships.

  The larger shops continued for a while longer but eventually, the more family-orientated and smaller shops filled the streets. There were Vanir flooding out from each of the cobbled buildings and sharing their wares in small stalls in front of their homes, yelling out prices and bargains to the passerbys.

  You paused in front of a small bookshop.

  The display in the front window was petite in size with a varying range of thick volumes and journals for women and men of incredible penmanship. There was even a small collection of ink pots framed by thick quills and shiny tips. Besides, the beautiful quills stood even more books arranged into small piles – spanned over the wooden shelf to display the intricate leather-bound covers and titles.

  Whilst it was true that you did not often indulge in literature, you held an odd admiration for the written thoughts of another. Especially those of a fictional world where young children and adults were capable of escaping reality, at least for a moment. But that did not mean philosophers and their beliefs did not deter your attention either, as there were many interesting theories and discussions often held within the binding of a good book.

  Ormr seemed particularly interested in books, you noted in a passing thought, perhaps I should purchase a volume for him?

  A short-lived idea.

  It was a silly notion, you realised, and turned to head back – acknowledging that Ormr could choose his own books when he was moving once more. That is if he wished too. Yet, a thin book with the title Seiðr and Potions caused you to pause. The cover was thinner than the other more expensive books, but the intricate golden detailing seemed to make up for its small size, and you found yourself estimating the cut in your wages. Through much mental debate with what crossed the line of a kind-hearted stranger and friend, or an overtly friendly fool, you entered the shop.

  The exchange of money and paper was quick and painless, the book costing very little in comparison to some of the larger copies and finer covers, and you exited a few moments later with the volume in your arms and the hope that Ormr would enjoy it. Especially as you were uncertain if Ormr could actually remember how to use seiðr, no less use it without an infliction of seiðr poisoning. But perhaps he would simply appreciate the aesthetic of the green leather and black ribbon? Or, if his seiðr was currently indisposed, he would appreciate the connection to his past by the formation of potions and remedies.

  It is a gift of consolidation, you decided, an act of offered friendship and a further alliance, considering how Ormr may be staying with Bjarke and myself.

  It was a satisfying decision. Especially as you were sure that Ormr would feel quite alone and confused once he awoke, and if you were there to calm him down with a few sarcastic remarks and something familiar for him to grasp, then perhaps it would allow Ormr a source of comfort. Moreso, you were unsure whether the man would find your presence a comfort in such trying times. You may still be a stranger or newly-earned friend in his eyes, and the memory of Ormr’s sudden anger at your curious questions did not lay unforgotten.

  Checking the time once more, you found that the town clocks had struck half one. Distracted by the wares of an iron merchant, you hadn’t heard the town clocktower strike the hour.

  Finding it a good time to start your walk back, you checked that nothing had been lost in your traipse around town. And despite the slight squashing of the bread, everything appeared intact, so you slid the book into a side pocket and twisted the strap around your shoulders. The food and book fit snug in the leather hide, unbothered by the battering they received through the busy streets of Sandnæs, so you continued the walk with no further interest regarding the side stalls situated along the cobblestoned roads.

  When you arrived back at the healers, the swinging sign at its front had been washed during your absence and the door was flung wide open to allow some diminishment of the summer heat. Without its swinging motion, the entrance permitted you to walk into the small front of the ward without the shop bell chiming your arrival, and greeted the two young apprentices behind the counter.

  Both girls were young in their age, cusping on the awkward verge of childhood and adulthood. Both held similar features, however their skin varied in tone and one of the two sisters were speckled with lack of pigment, whereas the other had hair that bunched around their ears and her sister wore braids that fell to her shoulders.

  Both wore the embroidered symbol of the Sandnæs ward on their clothes.

  “Hello, how may we assist you today?” The smaller asked, face stretched into a warm smile whilst her sister gathered a handful of plants and vials – sorting them into an open cabinet to the side of their station.

  “Healer Kari asked me to come back for my companion,” you shifted the bag on your hip and nodded towards the curtain leading towards the back ward. “A man named Ormr who suffered from a poison-induced…seizure – long black hair and green eyes. Quite lithe and tall.”

  The twins glanced at one another.

  “Are you Jorunn?”

  By Odin, you cursed Bjarke for the endearing title.

  “Yes. I was the woman who delivered Ormr this morning,” you nodded in regards to the girl’s question, “My travelling companion and I came across him a mere few days ago. The man has been in my care since he was discovered and our party had only been able to reach town early this morning.”

  The taller of the two grimaced.

  “He is awake. Please, follow me.”

  Trailing after the girl, you passed the smaller of the two sisters, who smiled warmly once more, and through the red curtains – ducking between the folds of fabric. Inside the ward, rays of sunlight filtered the room where more men and women lay in the ward beds. Few were alone whilst others were covered by healers of varying ages and colours, all practised in the art of seiðr.

  None were men. As was custom to the Vanaheimr realm.

  Kari came fluttering up to you in a spike of anxiety, her hands gripping yours as she pulled you away from the young apprentice without a word. The young girl did little but wait for the older healer to pull you away, before turning and retreating into the storefront where her sister sat in waiting. Her hands were still as she retraced her steps and offered an unvoiced apology for the condition you would find your companion in.

  “Thank the Norns, you are back!” Kari bit out, relief encasing her voice as she hurried you out of the public ward. “The man – Ormr – he did not react well to your departure.”

  “My departure?”

  “Yes, very badly. Incredibly badly. Never have I seen such a violent response to someone’s absence.” Kari bit her lip and winced, “I did not anticipate such a panicked reaction to his awakening but it took more than three of my healers to stop his attack.”

  You faltered in your steps.

  “Attack?”

  Kari paused in front of a closed wooden door.

  “Ást,” she turned and her eyes searched yours patiently, ignoring the frantic tone in your voice, “You must understand. Ormr - you do not know who he is or where he has come from. The man could be of any mother or father in the realms. We do not know him or his heritage, but trust me when I say he has been injured very badly. Physically and mentally. Whilst his physical injuries have been healed and I can temporarily cure his poisoned ailment, there are traces of injuries that as healers of the body, we cannot fix.”

  The realisation that struck with her words caused shame to bottle in your chest, especially as Ormr’s previous actions had hinted towards evidence of physical and psychological abuse. 

  “Ormr has been injured by faculties of the mind and conscience, and my wards and I cannot help a man with those kinds of injury. Please understand, Ormr meant nothing in his attack and my own healers know this. He was scared and in pain, not to mention forcefully sedated during his seizure. I am unsure of the extent concerning his mental condition, but he is not the worst we have seen and he is not the best either. We have no knowledge in the extent of his poor mental health, but it is not our right to push his boundaries.”

  “And the attack?”

  Kari grimaced.

  “Another healer, one of the more experienced, thankfully,” she breathed out. “But when the man awoke, he was distraught – it was a mistake to move him whilst asleep, granted, as it was a mistake to have you leave whilst he was under. But the attack I speak of – he tried to physically harm one of our healers when they attempted to touch him.”

  You ran a few fingers through your hair as a source of self-comfort and sucked in a shaky breath.

  “Ormr did that to me the first time I tried to help him, too. But it was more as an attempt of escaping my grasp,” you lifted your head and met Kari’s eyes once more, “I am so sorry I did not warn you. I had no belief that his reactions would repeat in such a violent manner, especially as he has been so well in the past few days.”

  The older woman squeezed your arm.

  “Whilst the information may have prevented our panic, know that it is all well, krútt. You did not realise the nature of Ormr’s condition and therefore, it is not your fault. And our healer is fine – no harm done. It is not uncommon for our patients to awake in a panicked state, so rest assured that Ormr is not the first to react violently, and he shall not be the last either. However, I believe your presence would be appreciated, moreso because he was further panicked when the news of your departure reached his ears.”

  You winced, the shame strengthening until it overwhelmed your prior guilt, despite Kari’s own blatant shame, which lay heavy on her features. It was difficult to banish the regret despite your reasoning, knowing that your presence would have been a pure nuisance within the healers’ ward. And you knew Kari’s influence in your walk was out of pure heart rather than anything malicious. Besides, your walk had allowed the procession of your thoughts and feelings to be organised rather than to wallow and manifest in your mind. Not to mention, it would have been purely selfish to feast upon the ward’s rations than to buy your own food in town.

  Moving past Kari, you thanked her softly and opened the door, stepping into the small room where a single bed had been pushed up against the far wall. The bed was positioned facing the open doorway and beside it sat two side tables covered in herbal mixtures and flowers twisted towards the light coming through a framed window. The whole room was glazed in sunlight, displaying the white-washed walls and sterile placement of furniture through the rays of yellow slipping through the glass planes.

  Lying in the ruffled sheets lay Ormr bundled in several blankets and adorned in a fresh layer of plasters. His gaze remained vacant on the wall to his right, pupils frozen and glossed over by the streams of sunlight. The side of his head that had been ripped and shredded appeared to be mended now, the hair cut and sheered to a suitable length whilst any blood and cuts had been stitch and cleansed.

  You tapped on the door.

  His gaze turned to you.

  “How are you feeling?”

  Tension eased from the man’s stiff stature and his body fell more languidly onto the stiff sheets stretched across his bed. His eyes still drilled onto your worried form, eyebrows furrowed and a sneer coating his lips. An air of animosity filled the sterile atmosphere, causing you to shift and brace yourself for further violence or distrust from the injured man.

  “I am better.”

  The curtness in his answer cut an inch too deep for comfort.

  “I am glad. I feared for your health when your body reacted so violently to the healer’s seiðr,” you offered softly and walked into the room, slipping the satchel from your shoulder and grabbing a chair. “I apologise I was not here when you awoke – Kari sent me to fetch food and to prevent any disruption inside the main ward.”

  Ormr hummed and his eyes slid off your form, back towards the open window where the noise of carts and people echoed from the busy streets. His eyes seemed to freeze over and his features fell flat, refusing to meet your eyes once more.

  “Good. I was glad that you were not here. It allowed me some time away from yours and your companion’s boorish company.”

  There was an angered bite to his tone, seething and rejected in nature, but the manner in which he spoke was cool and unfeeling. No emotions reached past his jaw and his features remained cruelly despondent.

  You had experienced such behaviour before, and you would not fall flat in your attempts to break the frozen façade now.

  “I am glad then, that you found time to relax and heal despite my absence,” you smiled sweetly, ignoring the manner in which Ormr’s eyes twitched. “I bought us food – meat cutlets, such as boar and pig – and bread from a nearby bakery.”

  You dug the packages out from inside your bag and laid them on the table besides Ormr. The parcel crinkled loudly in the tense silence and you laid the meat out for the man to see and pick. The bread was, thankfully, pre-sliced and parts of the crust flaked from its paper coverage.

  “I am no longer hungry, thank you. The healers have fed me in your absence.” Ormr turned his head away from the food, however his eyes wavered in their attention for a moment, foiling the man’s silver tongue and his waspish words.

  “Well, if you find yourself able to stomach the food,” you sandwiched a piece of meat between two slices and bit into it, fully-acknowledging Ormr’s attention on your meal, “then I believe it is best to leave the bread and cutlets for your disposal.”

  The man faltered in his stoic behaviour, hands inching across the stiff bedsheets and eyes growing a small degree warmer, all whilst he stared at the bread squashed between your fingers.

  His voice softened.

  “Thank you.”

  You nodded and took another bite, brushing crumbs from the travelling trousers you adorned at that moment. True, it was a futile attempt in clearing the mess which would grow as you finished the sandwich, hunger temporarily quenched, but you found that the previously tense silence had grown slightly less overbearing as you sat and ate.

  “Oh,” you broke the silence again and swallowed the last bite. “I bought you a gift in town – something you showed interest in earlier, when we were riding Raoul through the Sandnæs’ centre.“

  Ormr watched as your hands slipped into the bag once more, pulling the green leather-bound book from its pocket and smoothing out the black ribbon attached to its spine.

  “Here. I am unsure whether Kari has informed you fully of your ailments, but I believe this book will be helpful or at least entertaining for you to read,” you explained and laid the volume on Ormr’s lap. He gazed at the book a moment longer and ran his fingers over the ridges of detail on its cover and spine.

  Lifting the book from his sheets, you watched as Ormr thumbed his way between the volume’s pages and curled the ribbon over his left hand. A look of grief and ease flooded his features, polar-opposites consuming his mind as he pulled the book further into his chest and allowed the smell of ink and paper to flood his senses. His eyes teared up momentarily, chest clenched and left hand rubbing over the dips of his fingers and the silk bookmark.

  “Seiðr and potions?” Ormr licked his lips and traced the cursive letters slowly. “Thank you – for your gift, that is.” He faltered and pulled himself further up the bed, book tucked into the crook of his arm, and sat to his full height.

  “It is alright. I’m glad you like it, especially as I hope it may help for future references.”

  He nodded.

  “Yes, the healers explained to me what occurred,” Ormr’s façade crumbled as a small wince coated his features. “I apologise for causing such an event,” he paused at the word, “but it is quite nice to understand the extent of my injuries, I suppose.”

  A lingering sense of bitterness weighed heavy on his tongue.

  “So, you know of the seiðr and poison?”

  “Yes, I know of the seiðr and poison,” he recited your words with a quirked eyebrow. His face held no remaining angst or anger as he traced over the book’s textured cover.

  “And, are you alright?”

  “What? Are you a mind healer, now?” Ormr spat out, shoulders tensing and fingers curling over the book’s surface. His defensiveness fell as swiftly as it built and Ormr’s body unfurled itself, a look of shame flooding his features, “I apologise, that was – uncalled for. I am not quite in the right mind as of currently.”

  He picked at his thumb.

  “As much as I don’t appreciate your curtness, know that there is no harm done,” you hummed and began to make a second sandwich. “However, the next time you yell at me, I will throw a rock at you.”

  You watched Ormr, cautious of his reaction towards your light-hearted threat.

  He chuckled weakly.

  “I have no doubt, dear healer. Will you make me build a fire pit too?” He teased and rolled onto his side, facing you fully. The fabric bunched around his waist and you were happy to see the clean gauze and patches that had been applied to the worst of his cuts. No longer was he bound in bandages.

  “Most definitely, but if you behave, perhaps I will allow you to simply set up our beds for the night,” you grinned and handed the prepared food over, “Now eat. Despite your gilded words, I know the behaviour of a starving man.”

  Ormr hesitated and took the food, accepting his lies and your truth.

  "Thank you, again.”

  His words held more meaning than was spoken, but you accepted the subject of which he voiced.

  You sat a while longer as Ormr ate the meal, supplying him with another sandwich and another roll of bread that you had bought. He eventually ate the entirety of the bread and finished off the remaining meat, all which he consumed with the ravenous nature of a bilgesnipe.

  “I feel like you and Valencia would get along just fine.”

  Ormr paused in his chewing.

  “Bjarke’s wife?”

  “Yes,” you smiled brightly, “She could feed both the army of Hel and the Valkyries. No doubt if you were to meet, the poor woman would never let you leave her home without a few pies and roast under your belt. That is, if the children do not eat the pies before you do.”

  Ormr chuckled and lapsed back into silence as he finished off the last pieces of meat. He passed over the last piece of bread - a truce and an apology. The bread and meat packaging were slipped inside your bag, and you took a bite of the slice he offered.

  The following hour you remained by Ormr’s side in comfortable ease. The awkward tension had ceased and so the pair of you indulged yourselves with the book you had gifted him, Ormr reading out each passage for his interest and your own. When the town clock tower struck four, Ormr silenced and turned to face the northern window. His eyes watched the clock’s hands land on the number four, the bells sounding as you rose and wiped off any remaining crumbs that resided on your trousers.

  “I fear that I must leave – Bjarke and Valencia will be expecting me soon for dinner,” you explained and slipped the satchel back onto your shoulder. “And I doubt Raoul is most grateful about his stay in the public Sandnæs stables.”

  Ormr stayed silent as the chair was tucked away and your satchel shifted. His eyes seemed wary as you rose and stood by his bed. His hands wrung around each other subtly, acutely hidden by his sheets.

  “Hopefully, by tomorrow you will be discharged and I can take you back to our current lodgings. Whilst Bjarke stays with his family, I have bartered two rooms in a nearby tavern. I will come to pick you up tomorrow around noon – that is, if you believe to feel up for it.”

  Ormr’s hands fell and the wariness lessened.

  “So, you will be returning?” There was a definite change to his voice.

  “Of course,” your eyebrows furrowed, “You did not believe I would abandon you to the healers’ hand, do you?”

  Ormr’s eyes shifted.

  “You did.”

  “When I awoke,” he spoke slowly, “one of the healers. She said that you had left the ward. Left me, I suppose, to fend for myself.” Ormr shifted his head upon the pillow. “I did not believe you would come back, nor that you would wish to keep me as a companion. I am not the easiest of men to be around, especially with the newly discovered circumstances. Such is the reason why I acted so, um, coldly, towards you.”

  “Ormr,” you sat on the bed and refrained from touching his arm, “I know that we are barely strangers. Barely friends. But know that I have no intentions of leaving you alone without your request. Bjarke and I want to offer you a place with our travelling party. We would be happy to have you join our journeys to other regions and realms.” You laughed at his frown. “Okay perhaps I would be happy to have you join our small travel party, but I truly believe that we could be friends. Or at least, I would like us to be friends. And I would like to assist with earning your memories back, with or without the poison in your system.”

  The injured man faltered and a slow smile settled on his cheeks, completely filling his features with unadulterated affection and gratitude. His eyes lit up and the fire that grew behind his pupils formed an elixir of gold and green topaz. Even his cracked lips grew into crescent blossoms that shifted with a lick of his tongue.

  “I would like to be your friend too.”

  You echoed his expression and lifted a hand.

  “Friends?”

  “Friends.”

  His hand clasped yours and it was unsurprising to see the magnitude in which his palm swamped your own. The gloves which he kept had obviously been used religiously as his hands felt extravagantly soft in comparison to your own.

  “Great,” you squeezed his hand once more and dropped it. “And no worries for your previous actions. It is in the past, however harke my words that I will throw a rock at you if you repeat such actions again.”

  Ormr smiled, “I promise. And I assure you that I truly am sorry. I apologise for reacting so coldly to your arrival and any other slights I have caused in the past few days.”

  You nodded thoughtfully and squeezed his arm, glad that Ormr did not pull away from your touch.

  “Thank you. I appreciate it, but I really do have to leave now – Valencia is not a person you wish to anger.”

  Ormr chuckled.

  “Have fun and do not do anything I wouldn’t.”

  You laughed and a smirk spread over your lips, “In which you mean, do not refrain from causing chaos?”

  His eyes sparked once more, watching as you stood to leave.

  “Dear healer, chaos is such a harsh term. Perhaps mischief would be better.”

_________

Ást– translation for love, pronounced: as-t Krútt - translation for sweetiblueutie, pronounced: kyer-root

[eryiss]

Blade of the Wanderer - Chapter Three

Summary: Laxus’ life was fine. Not comfortable, not as good as it could be, but fine. Then a stranger entered the walled town of Magnolia, a stranger named Freed Justine, and everything changed. [Fraxus Multi-Chapter | T for Violence]

Hey all! Here’s a new five-chapter fic for you all, and it’s a samurai AU. It’s part of the @ft-bb event, in which I’ve been signed up with @fyo-schiiwho’s made this amazing art!

You can read it on Fanfiction, Archive of our Own, or under the cut. And you can see all chapters right here. I hope you all enjoy it!

Chapter Three – Swindling Cities

Year: 1539x. Luna-cycle: 9. Day: 9.

He wouldn't admit it, but Laxus found himself incredibly intimidated.

A month had passed since Laxus had been exiled from Magnolia, and three weeks had passed since he had agreed to travel with Freed until they reached a city that Laxus could make his new life in. It had taken twenty-two days of near constant traveling – with only one night spent in an actual bed after they had stumbled across a town with a vacant inn – but they had finally arrived at the city nearest of Magnolia. And Laxus found himself very taken aback by it.

After spending his entire life in a village, a city was an entirely foreign experience. The buildings seemed to expand indefinably; the shadow of the towering castle located in the centre of the city was cast over half the buildings; and even from the entrance Laxus knew that the multiple alleys would make for a hellish labyrinth for anyone new to the city. Including Laxus.

"We should find somewhere to sleep for the night."

Laxus snapped his head to look towards Freed after he spoke. The other man seemed more at home than Laxus, though that wasn't surprising. Over the three weeks together, it had become very clear that Freed hadn't just travelled to Magnolia on a whim; he was a well-versed traveller and had probably seen every corner of Fiore.

Over the three weeks of traveling, their relationship had become almost exactly what Laxus had expected. They couldn't be categorised as friends, that would be too far, but the hatred that Laxus still slightly wanted to feel towards him wasn't right either. Tolerance was probably the most accurate term, but even that seemed a little too clinical for Laxus' taste. They could hold a conversation as they had three weeks prior, but it had felt like they were just filling silence whenever they did.

They were civil to each other. That's all Laxus could be sure of.

"I know of a cheap tavern here, the owner's fond of me so I can perhaps negotiate some long-term habitation for you," Freed continued, looking over his shoulder. "Unless you have any objections, of course."

"No, that'd be fine. Great actually, thanks," Laxus nodded a little. "You really think you can do that for me? Not exactly sure when I'm gonna get some money to pay for it. Probably not an easy sale for ya, is it?"

"If you're willing to do some physical work for them until you get a job, lifting beer barrels and such, I'm sure it'll be fine."

Although he wouldn't say it, Laxus was thankful. Not only was he completely overwhelmed by the city and knew he wouldn't be able to adapt on his own – not immediately – but he had also worried about what he would actually do when he found a place to live. If Freed could make good on his promise, then Laxus would not only have somewhere to stay for a little while but, if he did end up working for his stay, he could potentially turn that into a full-time job. It wouldn't be glamourous, but practicality was all Laxus needed.

The way Freed had offered his help was something Laxus was appreciative of as well. Despite Freed outwardly admitting he was taking pity on him before, Laxus felt a silent respect had formed between them. Nothing near admiration, just respect. So, while he could have been patronising towards him, he had simply offered Laxus a way to survive on his own.

"The tavern is a fairly long walk away," Freed continued. "There's a market on the way and I'm running low on supplies. I can point you in the right direction form there if you don't want to watch me shop."

"No, if I'm gonna spend time here, might as well get to know what it's like soon," Laxus said, not admitting that he also expected he would get lost in the city even with directions.

Freed nodded and started to walk towards one of the many alleyways that Laxus could see. They soon had merged into the busy crowd, something Laxus was thankful for. Even in the town's they had come across, they stuck out, so it was nice to have some anonymity. Well, they weren't entirely faceless in the crowds, Laxus only had one outfit other than the kamishimo that he had been exiled wearing, and it consisted of barely fitting clothes that were unwanted by the town's tailor as they couldn't be sold. The black pants, purple shirt and fur lined coat was a mismatch of colours that attracted the eyes of some passers-by.

Laxus hadn't yet admitted to himself that he had grown fond of the cape-like coat. This hesitance to admit it was only partially because Freed had insisted that he buy it whereas Laxus had been resistant to it.

They walked in silence, and Laxus tried to memorise the streets as best he could for future use. The seemingly endless rows of almost identical buildings made this difficult, as did the copious amounts of side streets and alleys that Laxus had lost count of multiple times. Laxus assured himself that he would get used to the new place in time, but something in his gut said that he was only kidding himself. He tried to shut that voice out.

After what Laxus guessed was fifteen minutes of walking, the relatively cramped streets opened up into a fairly large town square. It was shadowed by a cathedral and the cobbled ground was covered by a busy, bustling market town. People were eating, buying whatever wears they needed and talking with each other.

It brought a smile to his face. Although the memories faded slightly, this reminded him of how market days in Magnolia used to be before Ivan. Full of chatter and happy people. Looking across the almost familiar sight, Laxus found himself missing Magnolia for the first time since joining Freed.

"It shouldn't take long, I know my way around this market-" Freed stopped himself as he looked to Laxus. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, fine," Laxus looked towards him, snapping himself out of the daze he didn't know he was in. "Just got caught up in my thoughts. What are you looking for?"

"Not much. Some food, and my knife's starting to dull," Freed continued to walk again, going towards the busy market with purpose in his stride, as if he'd been there before. He probably had. "Is there anything you need, I can direct you to wherever you need to go."

"No, think I'm fine," Laxus replied, looking around with a small amount of intrigue.

The market, though slightly resembling the one that had taken place in Magnolia, was on a much grander scale. White stalls seemed to fill the entirety of the town's square, people seemed to cover all of the cobbled streets, and the intoxicating smell of the food vendor's goods wafted across the air and towards the two men. Laxus tried not to let his stomach grumble, he'd been hungry since leaving and this was the first-time real food had been attainable.

He shadowed Freed as he walked throughout the market, not seeing any point in interacting with anyone. The food was nearest the clocktower, then it faded into wears such as knives jewellery and such; and ended up with clothes and fabrics. Fairly easy to remember.

As Freed inspected a selection of knives that would make both a butcher and a warrior feel inferior, Laxus found himself tempted by the suddenly domineering scent of a roasting pig at a stall only meters from where he stood. He'd only eaten the cold food that Freed kept with him, not having requested anything cooked on the few instances where it was possible. Freed would have had to pay for that, as Laxus had no money, and the blonde refused to be in the man's debt any more than was completely necessary.

Soon the smell would get too much, and his stomach would start grumbling, so he tore his eyes aware from the food market and looked back to Freed. He had picked up a small dagger and was holding it against the tip of his finger, inspecting the blade with slightly narrowed eyes and a frown across his features.

"I'll have this," Freed eventually settled, looking to the vendor. "How much is it?"

"Three gold," The vendor's voice was gruff, leaving no room for argument. Freed clicked his tongue but reached into a coin pouch and handed in the money; obviously the dagger was worth it in his eyes.

"Thank you," Freed nodded. The vendor just nodded and looked away.

Again, Laxus only watched as Freed slid the newly acquired dagger into his belt. Freed seemed to be perfectly content with not speaking and allowing Laxus to follow him as he made his way around to the food part of the market. The blonde tried to focus on anything other than the pig slowly being turned atop an open flame, which was practically screaming at his senses and begging to be devoured… ignoring it wasn't going well.

Thankfully, a distraction from the food was offered in the foreign sound of a laugh. He looked towards Freed to see that, yes, Freed had indeed laughed. Furthermore, it seemed as though he had laughed at Laxus, if the amused expression aimed towards him was to be believed.

Before he could ask his travelling companion what he thought was so damn funny, Freed started to walk again. This time, he walked in an entirely different direction to where he had been going before, this time walking straight towards the hog-roast that was the subject of Laxus' desire. Confusion now undeniably obvious on his face, Laxus followed Freed and allowed his question to die on his tongue.

Almost as soon as they reached the food stall, Laxus' stomach got the better of him. An annoying grumble sounded and Laxus winced, purposefully not looking towards Freed as he almost knew he would receive a patronising smirk if he did.

"Two rolls, please," Freed said after a few moments, causing Laxus to look back towards him.

The vendor of the stall made quick work on their order, hacking away at the meat and filling bread rolls with generous helpings. He handed them both to Freed, and Laxus found himself unable to look away from the cooked meat that would – unless Freed truly was sadistic – soon be eaten by him. The idea of eating any hot food seemed fantastic after living off the bare essentials but having flame cooked pork was simply faultless.

"Fifty silver," The vendor requested, and Freed paid for it without complaint.

Soon, one of the rolls was handed to Laxus, who looked down at it with a small amount of confusion despite his desperate want to eat it like a wild dog. But he and Freed hadn't acted like this with each other; there had been no small favours, so why now.

"Eat it before it goes cold," Freed instructed with amusement in his voice. "It's not poisoned, if that's your concern."

"No. Erm, thanks," Laxus still was frowning towards the food. His confusion got the better of him. "Why?"

"To be honest, I was wondering how long you could go without asking," Freed said, annoyingly not answering Laxus' question. The smirk on the man's face was grating against Laxus' nerves as well. "Subtlety is certainly not one of your strong points, Laxus."

"The hell are you talking about?"

"Your looks whenever there's hot food nearby, the little sighs whenever you have to eat the same food for a third time in that many days, and a whole assortment of small things that you've been doing to show how much you need something hot to eat. You thought I hadn't noticed?" Freed chuckled. "I just wanted to see how long your pride would get in the way of you asking me to buy something for you."

Against his will, Laxus' face reddened a little. He hadn't realised he had been so obvious with his want for something other than cold meat pies, bread and the occasional fish. To be caught out and mocked because of it was not enjoyable.

"You know I would have brought you something if you wanted, don't you," Freed continued, still obviously amused. "To be honest, I thought about stretching your limits. I was half tempted to get a full meat breakfast at that inn to see if you'd want some for yourself or if you'd just sit and watch me eat. But perhaps that would have been too cruel."

Laxus knew he should have been annoyed, but he wasn't. He didn't waste time wondering why.

He simply brought the food in his hand to his mouth and took a large bit, savouring the flavour of heavily buttered bread, perfectly cooked meat and crispy wisps of fat as he ate. He all but moaned as the warm food set his taste buds alight, the first thing to do so since his last evening meal in Magnolia.

The two ate as they walked, and were back on track to where Freed was initially leading them before their detour. By the time the foot had been completely demolished by the blonde, his stomach felt more satisfied than it had in over a month.

"Worth the wait?" Freed said almost immediately in a mocking – or perhaps teasing was the better word – tone. Laxus was pretty sure he had been waiting to say it, with how quickly the words left his mouth.

"Asshole," Was his only reply.

"Perhaps," Freed agreed, still smirking a little. "But you brought it upon yourself for not being forthcoming. And, if you can handle me in a fight as well as you did, I think you're more than strong enough to handle some gentle teasing."

Ah, so teasing was the right term. Good to know.

They continue to walk through the market, Laxus no placated by the warm food he had tasted as well as the promise of something of a regular life on the horizon. He still found himself slightly intimidated by the busy market as they walked – the contrast was near impossible to believe – but he hoped he did a better job at hiding it than he did his need for a real meal. Freed didn't mention it, so he expected that he wasn't doing too bad of a job.

Still focusing on memorising the market for future use, Laxus saw a stall that Freed was walking towards and almost rolled his eyes. It was a preserves stall, therefore a jam stockpile. So Freed wouldn't be staying in the city for long then. Laxus probably should have expected that.

As they got closer, Laxus saw a young man standing at the stall who seemed to gauge their approach and smiled widely towards them. He could also see what he thought was Freed frowning a little, but it was from the corner of the blonde's eye, so it was entirely possible that he had misinterpreted what had happened. Either way, they continued to walk forward, and the stall's owner continued to look at them.

"Mr Justine, a pleasure to see you," The man greeted with a smile and fondness in his voice. "And a guest, fantastic."

"Rustyrose," Freed said, voice almost monotone. Laxus' brown furrowed a little. "Isn't your father here?"

"He's retired, I'm afraid. You can't expect an old man like that to work the cold mornings of the winter, that's practically medieval," The man – Rustyrose, apparently – said with an unneeded amount of flair. "I'm sure I'll make more than a good enough replacement."

"I doubt it," Freed said, picking up a jam and inspecting it. His voice sounded uninterested. "Your father is a man I respect. You're an intolerable cretin."

It took a considerable amount of self-restraint, but Laxus managed not to snigger. The expression on the stall-keeper's face was priceless, and it soon faded from a look of shock to one of annoyance. Freed looked up from the jar of jam and made direct eye contact with the man, almost challenging him to be offended. Rustyrose didn't take up the challenge.

"So," Freed continued. "I assume your prices are the same as last time?"

"Oh," Rustyrose suddenly perked up, voice overly dramatic again. "I'm afraid times are hard, and with father-dear not working we need all the money we can get just to keep him alive," Laxus had to doubt that. "So our prices may have inflated a little. I am sorry."

He wasn't. Neither Freed nor Laxus thought he tried to be sincere.

"How much are they?" Freed sighed. "And without the theatrics, if at all possible."

"The small jars are one gold and fifty silver, the larger ones three gold and twenty-five silver."

Laxus faltered a little. The same size jars from his town would have been more than half the price in Magnolia. He perhaps had expected a small price rise in the city, but certainly not this much. And, by the almost full glare on Freed's face, the other man hadn't expected the prices to be increased by this much either. At least that meant that Laxus wasn't completely naïve to the world outside Magnolia in this respect.

"Yer kiddin', right?" Laxus said, possibly cutting Freed off.

"Ah, he speaks," Rustyrose gleamed, looking towards Laxus with a grin on his face. "And I think the prices reflect the quality of the product."

As he spoke, Rustyrose motioned towards a sign that had been nailed against the back of the stall, which claimed 'the best preserves the imagination could conceive.' Laxus almost snorted at the claim; assuming he had been eating the man's products while traveling with Freed, he could prove quite easily that Mirajane's products were considerably better quality. He wasn't going to voice that though, as Freed's actions caught him off guard.

The other man pulled out his coin pouch again and fished out the appropriate money for two of the large jars. Laxus didn't exactly know why, everything he knew about Freed lead Laxus to believe that he wouldn't entertain the idea of paying for such an obvious scam. He couldn't really think it was worth the money.

"Raspberry and apricot," He demanded, voice portraying his annoyance.

"A fine choice, sir," Rustyrose sneered, and turned to pick up the correct jars.

Laxus watched, trying not to let his mouth drop a little at the interaction. Surely Freed wouldn't just accept that fact he was being grossly overcharged for some jam. It wasn't possible that this was the only place in the city that sold the damn jam he wanted. And why was he getting those two flavours? He always seemed to favour the strawberry one, Laxus had noted.

Why had he noticed that?

Despite Laxus' disbelief, the situation played out as if it was any other transaction. Rustyrose gave Freed what he wanted, Freed paid for it, Rustyrose gave them both a clearly snide goodbye, and they walked away. It took exactly seven steps before Laxus let his curiosity out.

"You seriously happy paying that much?" He grunted. "And from that guy? He was clearly an asshole."

"He was," Freed agreed.

"Then why the hell d'you let him win," Laxus turned towards the other man. "Guy needs an ego boost even less than you do."

"I know," Freed smiled a little. Laxus noted he didn't seem bothered by the insult. "That's the point. His ego got in the way."

"Yeah, this vague bullshit ain't explaining anything," Laxus muttered.

"He was too busy feeling proud of himself because he thought that he'd won our interaction, he wasn't paying attention enough to see a slight depletion of his stock," Freed said, fully smirking.

Laxus looked down when Freed opened the small bag that he kept. Sitting beside the two glass jars that he had paid for were two other jars, both filled with strawberry jam. Laxus continued to look down, processing the fact that Freed had stolen them, before he looked at his travelling partner with a small frown on his face.

He really hadn't expected Freed to be the stealing type. Sure, Rustyrose deserved it, but that didn't make it any less unexpected. Still, Laxus knew that the money didn't come from nowhere and a traveller could only do so many small jobs. Cutting costs down needed to occur, Laxus just hadn't thought about it until that point. It led him to wonder if Freed had stolen anything else while they had been traveling together. He obviously was good at it, given Laxus hadn't noticed and he was standing right beside him.

"I'd recommend we keep walking," Freed continued. "They tend not to like it when we don't pay."

Laxus didn't say anything, but he nodded slightly and the two continued to walk towards the nearest exit to the market. The blonde wanted to increase his pace, but Freed made sure not to let that happen. Most likely so they didn't look suspicious, they didn't need to stick out any more than they already did.

Their exiting nearly went well. They had managed to make it nearly out, but eventually heard the shrill exclamation that obviously belonged to Rustyrose; his voice really did carry. Laxus, probably against his better judgment, looked over to see the man looking directly at them.

"Shit," Freed whispered, looking forward.

Following his gaze, Laxus could see three men who were obviously guards looking towards them. He looked back over his shoulder to see another guard looking at them, as well as Rustyrose pointing at them furiously.

The guards started to walk towards them before either could do anything. The stalls made barriers either side of them, and the crowd was parting to let the guards through, so there was practically no escape that Laxus could see. The blonde looked down towards Freed to see the man's teeth were clenched and his expression slightly stressed, so obviously he couldn't think of a way out of this situation either.

This wasn't good. And the guards were getting closer.

"Show your hands!" One of the guards yelled. "NOW!"

It took Laxus a few moments to process the instructions, and he was only snapped out of the small trance when he saw Freed's hands raised in the air, the bag on the cobbled streets. The blonde slowly copies the action, not expecting this to have been their plan of action.

The guard's moved quickly after that. They went for Freed first, with the closest guard storming forward and slamming his fist into Freed's stomach. As the man was winded, the guard quickly brought him to the grown with neither finesse nor mercy. The traveller's head was brutally slammed against the cobbles, enough to cause a nasty bruise by Laxus' estimations.

But he had no time to think, as he was soon given the same treatment. One of the guards punched him in the stomach, hard. He then was given a kick to the back of the legs – from the guard that was behind them, probably – and he was then forced to the floor.

He blinked a little, head slammed against the cold stone. The force left him dizzy, and he was almost sure a bruise would be there to commemorate it.

Soon, he felt frayed rope wrapping tightly around his wrists, tying them together with no wiggle room. He was still being held down, both his stomach and his head being pushed against the cobbles as he tried to make sense of what was happening. From his position, he could only see the bottoms of the stalls and some boots of people who were watching, but he could hear that Freed was also getting his hands tied together by the guard.

As he heard the guards talking to each other, they said that the two prisoners – the name given to him and Freed didn't fill Laxus with hope – were to be taken to the local jail and their fates would be decided by the lawmaster. The blonde felt his stomach drop.

Freed was right. Shit, indeed.

-~—~-

Laxus had observed that many things in the city were more luxurious when compared to Magnolia. The market was bigger and had considerably more stock, the buildings were presented as spotless and clearly designed with an artist's eye, and the atmosphere just seemed to be more pleasant. Almost everything was an improvement, with a few small exceptions of course. One of which was the jail cells that Laxus found himself in.

Because of course that's where he would end up on the first time in a city.

The walls were damp and made of cracking, moss covered stone. The wooden benches were worn away and purposefully uncomfortable. The light flittering through the small, barred window highlighted the heavy layer of dust in the room. It was the antithetic of luxurious.

Laxus had been taken to the jail cells of Magnolia a few times, though never having been a resident of them. Ivan had taken him there to both intimidate the prisoners and to show Laxus is superiority over the rest of the town. Magnolia's cells were almost identical to the ones that Laxus found himself in, only the city had significantly more of them. He and Freed had somehow managed to be placed into the same cell though, which acted as a little comfort to the blonde as he sat and tried to rationalise the situation that he was in and calm himself down.

It didn't work. But it was nice to give himself the illusion of any control over what was happening.

He glanced to his left to see that Freed was sitting on the bench beside him, eyes closed and posture more relaxed than he should be, considering the situation. Laxus quickly got the impression that this wasn't the first cell that Freed had found himself in. Given his reaction to the guards back in Magnolia, Laxus probably should have guessed as much.

The blonde had to wonder if Freed was actually planning to do something. The moment he and Laxus had been shoved into the cell – with all the care someone might give a rabid dog – Freed's eyes were everywhere. He focused on the lock, the bar-covered window and the long corridor of cells that they had just walked down. And now his eyes were closed, and his expression suggested that he was in deep contemplation.

But he couldn't be sure. And the possibility of Freed somehow dealing with the situation didn't do much to calm his nerves. Not after the delighted way that the guards informed them both that the lawmaker of the town was close friends with Rustyrose, and that she was incredibly unhappy with their apparent disrespect to him.

Needless to say, the situation wasn't looking good for them both.

"So," Laxus eventually spoke, the quiet getting to him. "You wanna tell me how many times?"

Freed frowned and looked towards him. "Excuse me."

"How many times you've been in here, or bee in any fucking jail," Laxus grunted a little, still looking forward. "You ain't panicked at all, just kinda acting like it's just a nuisance that'll pass in a couple hours. So, how many times?"

The traveller beside him seemed to think for a few moments. Laxus watched from the corner of his eye as Freed leant the back of his head against the cold stone that made up the walls of the cell. After a few seconds, still with his eyes closed and expression filled with contemplation, he looked back towards Laxus with a neutral expression.

"I assume it won't be a comfort to tell you I may have lost count," Freed chuckled a little.

"Not really," Laxus laughed with a small amount of humour. "How did you manage to get locked up that many times. Other than today, you ain't really done anything that'd piss off a leader. Well, my dad I guess, but he gets pissed at anything."

"Really? He seemed like such a level-headed man when we met," Freed chuckled. "And I don't make a habit of breaking the law, but it sometimes becomes needed."

"Huh?" Laxus looked towards Freed, still wearing a frown.

"I started to travel when I was thirteen, and I haven't spent any substantial amount of time in the same place since I left," Freed looked emotionless as he thought back. Laxus wondered why. "I took some funds with me, but they could never last me forever. I try to do small jobs in towns and cities whenever possible, but sometimes I won't have the time for that nor the money to get myself food, so I sometimes had to steal it.

"It didn't go well at the start, and I got caught most times. Thankfully, lawmakers can be easily manipulated by a teenager who they think is down on their luck – which technically wasn't a lie – so I never spent more than a night in a cell. As I got better, I was caught less, so the cell time depleted."

Laxus nodded a little, glad that there was at least justification to Freed's breaking of the law. Although, it probably wouldn't matter if Freed was just a criminal for the thrill of it – or any other similar reason – as they probably wouldn't see each other after Freed left the city and Laxus started to create a life for himself here. So he wouldn't be traveling with him, knowing that he was a criminal for fun.

Although, he had to admit the idea of doing that was interesting.

Wrongly, Laxus had assumed that Freed was pretty much a square. Sure, he had pissed off Ivan when they had met, and had obviously proven himself to good fighter, but Laxus had just assumed that Freed was adapting to the situation because he had to. Knowing that Freed had a habit of being imprisoned, that put a different tint on their time together.

Maybe Freed had been behaving himself, for Laxus' sake. If that was true, the blonde had to wonder what their travels would have been like with this other side of Freed being shown to him. It was an amusing thought, one he kind of wanted to explore.

Huh. He was second-guessing himself.

But no, that wasn't the plan. The plan was to get to a city and live there from now on. Freed almost defiantly wouldn't want him for any longer than needed; he'd probably diminished the mans food reserves more than he realised, as well as making him spend twice as much on the inn they'd stayed at. No, he couldn't travel with Freed for any longer than needed, he would simply have to unleash his curiosity when they had the chance. And locked up together was as good a time as any.

"When was the last time you got arrested, then? Not including Ivan," Laxus asked, body now shifting towards Freed.

"A while, actually. Over a year," Freed smiled a little. "Shockingly, I'm not nostalgic about it."

"Shocking," Laxus mimicked with a small grin. "I'm gonna guess that part of the reason we ended up here today is because of me, if it's been that long."

"I couldn't possibly say," Freed chuckled a little, standing up and walking to the bars of the cell. Laxus couldn't see a reason for his sudden movement, so just assumed he needed to stretch his legs. "Would I have acted differently if I were alone, perhaps. Would I have been caught, almost definitely not. But don't feel like you're to blame for this."

Laxus rolled his eyes a little when he saw the smug, teasing grin on the traveller's face. The blonde was grinning a little as he muttered. "Asshole."

Well, at least he was teasing and willing to joke about the situation. Laxus would rather that than have Freed angry at him for getting him there. He wasn't entirely sure what would happen if Freed was genuinely angry at him.

Conversation trickled off a little, wit Freed still leaning against the metal bars and Laxus looking around the cramped cells. The fact that Freed had said he'd only spent the night in a cell when he was a kid as if it were a small amount of time, it probably meant that they would be there for considerably longer than that. He might as well get used to the place that would be his home for a short time. Hopefully not too long, though.

Eventually, Freed walked back from the bars and sat down on the cell's bed; well, is a wider wooden bench with a ratty pillow and a blanket could be considered a bed. He sat opposite Laxus directly and grinned.

"Well, I think we've been in here long enough to learn our lessons, don't you?" Freed was smirking.

"I guess," Laxus frowned. "You just gonna walk out? Don't think they'll like that."

"Probably not," Freed chuckled. "But I can get us out, if you want."

Laxus frowned and sifted a little so he was leaning forward. Why wouldn't he want that, unless there was a risk of making things worse for them both. "The hell are you talking about?"

"There's two things we can do, from what I can tell," Freed begun, Laxus leaning forward a little further. "We can stay here for as long as it takes, probably have some kind of punishment from the lawmaker, and we'll eventually be released. They'll also probably keep everything they confiscated from us and, somewhat ironically, we'll probably have to steal some food to survive. Adversely, you can go along with my idea and we'll be out in less than an hour."

"And I'm guessing there's a risk," Laxus sighed.

"There's a chance it wont work. Minimal, but a chance," Freed looked down a little. "And, for the first few weeks of living here, you might need to keep your head down. You will have escaped from a jail, so making yourself known will bring you back here."

"I can do that," Laxus nodded, leaning back against the wall. "So, what do you need me to do."

"Just follow my lead," Freed smiled. "And, in advance, you have my apologies."

With a frown at the last sentence, Laxus watched as Freed stood up again. Confusion was painted in the blonde's expression as he watched the other man shrug off his coat and placed it on the wooden bed, undid the buttons of his cuffs and pulled his sleeves up to his biceps. His confusion doubled when Freed instructed him to do the same, but he did as he was told, placed his coat alongside Freed's, and slid his sleeves up as well.

As he went to sit down on the bench again, Freed grabbed him by the arm and stopped him. Still confused, he allowed Freed to position him in the middle of the cell so that they were facing each other. Laxus really wasn't sure how removing their coats was going to get them out, and he was starting to think that Freed was just playing with him to pass the time.

"Again," Freed said, voice quiet. "I'm sorry."

And then the fucker punched him in the face.

Laxus staggered back a little, grabbing his jaw where Freed's punch had landed. It had been merciless, and Laxus shouldn't have been shocked by the power that was behind it. He knew the guy was strong, evident from both their fight upon meeting and the obvious muscles in his bare arms.

"What the fuck!" He yelled, looking to Freed while still cupping his jaw.

Freed didn't reply, instead he walked forward quickly and planted another vicious punch, this time in Laxus' stomach. Again, he stumbled back, this time winded. Now slightly hunched over and grabbing his stomach, he looked towards Freed with a mixture of anger and confusion on his face. Freed waited for a moment, and then he rolled his eyes a little and stormed forward, his expression going from a small amount of exhaustion to one of anger. It was honestly almost terrifying to see the expression aimed at him.

"So now you're quiet!" Freed suddenly yelled back. "But when a guard's around, you just love making noise!"

He grabbed Laxus by the throat and pushed him against the wall, the anger still in his eyes. The blonde grabbed the arms that were clasped around his neck, not sure if Freed was actually intending to crush his windpipe. By the strength he was holding him, there was every chance that was his intention.

However, when he looked back to Freed's face – which was uncomfortable close to the point where he could feel the man's breath on his lips – he saw the expression of anger was gone. In its place, Freed was looking directly into his eyes with a clear expression of purpose. When his eyes flickered towards the bars of the cell, Laxus followed them and saw a single guard sitting at the end of the corridor.

Just follow my lead.

When a guard's around, you love making noise.

Ah. Okay. They were getting the guard's attention. He could do that. Maybe this could be some overdue catharsis for when they first met.

With a small nod to show he understood, he placed his hands-on Freed's chest and shoved him back; he made sure not to hold back in the same way Freed had. The two looked at each other, both panting a little, and Laxus could have sworn he saw Freed smirking before his expression turned back to the look of anger. He decided not to think too much about why that happened, and instead got his mind back on the task at hand.

He thought back to how he felt when he first met Freed. The expression his father had worn when he lost the fight. His fucking father.

The punch was flying before Laxus knew it.

Slamming his fist into the side of Freed's jaw was weirdly satisfying, but he only felt that happen when he saw Freed grin again. Yeah, this was certainly going to be cathartic, even if it wasn't against the man he thought it might.

Mind now on the 'fight' occurring, Laxus grabbed the other man's shoulders and pushed them down, bringing his knee up at the same time to slam it directly into Freed's gut, winding him in the same way that he had previously been through. Again, once he saw that Freed had recovered, he felt a sense of enjoyment flow through him.

"Loud?" Laxus yelled again, hoping to get and maintain the guard's attention. "Maybe if you stopped fucking about being cocky, we might get shit done!"

"At least one of us has something to be cocky about," Freed retorted, voice a little croaky. Laxus was sure that it took a few seconds longer for Freed's smile to slip away than it had before. "Unless you think stumbling around is something you be proud of, you fucking ogre."

Throughout the jail cells, it was quiet. Previously, there had been the quiet sounds of other conversations or movement of other inmates. Now, all attention was on them. Laxus decided not to reply to Freed, instead listening to the row after he thought he heard the sound of wood scraping against the stone floor; the stool the guard was sitting on. In the silence, Laxus could hear boots walking towards them.

"He's coming," Laxus muttered, taking the break to catch his breath.

"He'll try splitting us up," Freed whispered back, chest heaving slightly. "When he's in the cell, focus on him."

With a nod, Laxus launched himself forward again and wrapped his arm around Freed's neck, pulling him down into a brutal headlock. He felt Freed struggle a little but kept his grasp firm as he heard the guard getting closer.

After Freed slammed his elbow into his stomach again, Laxus released him and stumbled back again. The elbow had landed in exactly the same as the punch from before, leaving him winded and trying to catch his breath. When he saw Freed glance outside of the cell and watched his pupils dilate a little, Laxus knew that he wouldn't be given this break and the fight would have to continue immediately if it were to look real at all.

The punch delivered to his face confirmed his suspicions.

"Asshole," He yelled.

This time, he grabbed Freed's hair. With a firm grasp, he dragged the other man to the wall of bars and forced his head against them. Now with an unhindered view of the corridor, he could see the guard only a cell away. He was looking directly at them. Good.

As Freed broke out of Laxus' hold again, Laxus stepped back to see the guard reaching for his keys. When he saw that the two men had stopped fighting for a few seconds, he obviously hesitated in unlocking their cell. Freed must have seen that, as he lurched forward again. Laxus only had time to wince before he felt the clenched fist against his cheek again. The fucker had a good punch.

"Hey," The guard yelled, key in the lock now. "The hell d'you think you're doing?"

"Giving this moron what he deserves," Freed practically spat. "Just leave us alone, you'll have one less person to deal with at the end of the day."

The door to the cell swung open, and the guard opened his mouth to speak again. Freed and Laxus, however, simply shared a glance and an almost unseen nod. A moment later, they lurched forward and Laxus slammed his fist into the guard's stomach. He stumbled back a bit, and couldn't stop Laxus from grabbing his head and slamming it into the bars with more viciousness than he had with Freed.

Huh. He didn't have to wait to see if the guy was okay before he felt satisfaction from the attack like he had with Freed.

As Laxus kept the guard occupied, Freed had reached around and grabbed the key that was still in the lock. He then quickly reached for the guard's belt as he was grabbing his stomach and pulling out the knife that was kept there. Laxus could only watch as Freed moved quickly, forcing the blade against the man's adam's apple, which bulged at the blade that was now in danger of cutting it. The speed in which Freed had moved reminded Laxus of how they had fought back in Magnolia.

Looking back to the guard, he saw the young man's eye dilate and his posture turn rigid. It was pretty clear that he wasn't going to put up much of a fight.

"This is what's going to happen," Freed spoke with the same tone that he had used when addressing Ivan. Velvet smooth yet somehow threatening in a way that was hard to describe. Laxus hadn't been able to appreciate it before. "We're going to walk very calmly and quietly to the inventory room, we'll get our belongings, and we'll be on our way without so much of an issue.

"However, if you have any ideas of trying to fight back, I'll cut your throat. Then I'll lock you in that cage and we can see how caring your colleagues are," Freed smiled a little and forced the knife up, making the guard look directly at him. "Do we understand each other?"

The guard nodded, and Laxus was left to wonder if Freed would carry out that threat if needed. He thought it best not to ask, instead he picked up both their coats and simply stayed silent.

As the three men started to walk down the corridor, with the knife still resting against the guard's, Laxus could see the other prisoners watching them. He tried not to pay any attention to the eyes watching them as they passed, instead looking straight ahead and following the directions of the guards; even if they were stuttered and said out of fear. The blonde just wanted to get out of the place as soon as he could; the situation was just too foreign for him.

Thankfully, they soon found themselves in what Laxus assumed was the inventory room. Laxus quickly grabbed everything that he recognised was there's that had been taken when they were arrested. After he'd taken anything back, he looked to Freed for guidance.

"Well, my friend, I think it's time for us to depart," Freed chuckled, looking to the guard as if he was enjoying this. He probably was. "I assume that you won't cause us any further trouble."

"N-no," The guard stammered a little.

"Good," Freed smiled, and then released the knife from the man's throat and handed it back to him. "I wish you a good day."

Freed was quick to leave the room, and Laxus followed suit. The confidence in which Freed moved was somewhat comforting, and it seemed the other man had no worries about being caught by another guard so Laxus tried to replicate that.

Apparently, that confidence was not misplaced, as they soon left the building without any trouble at all. Either the guards in a city just happened to be lax on that day, or maybe Ivan was more regimental in his treatment of the guards than Laxus had thought, because walking out of the jail was easy. Perhaps it made sense, without being able to trick the guard into walking into their cell, the two of them would still be there and no guard would be required outside.

As they walked away from the building – at a pretty quick pace, Laxus noted – the blonde found his mind wondering. Wondering about how he would manage to live here after escaping jail, about how he was still a stranger to real society, about how he would probably not see Freed again after he left. It all left him feeling… wrong.

"Hey," Laxus muttered after they merged into a crowd, allowing them to slow down their pace. "I know you said you'd get me a place here, and I'm thankful for this," The blonde's cheeks were slightly red as he spoke. "But, I dunno, maybe this place ain't for me."

Freed paused and looked towards him, a small frown on his face. "You don't?"

"Just doesn't seem like my kinda place, y'know," Laxus found his hand had reached the back of his neck, and he couldn't seem to look Freed in the eye. "And, if the guards are gonna be looking for us, doesn't make sense being here. Not exactly the most subtle guy, am I?"

"I suppose not," Freed chuckled.

"Yeah," Laxus looked down. He knew he was just going to have to ask, dignity be damned. "Look, d'you mind if I stick around with you for a little while longer. I know you probably don't want me hanging around you or anything, but-"

"I enjoy the company," Freed cut him off. "Besides, it's a large choice to make, you shouldn't rush it. I'm sure you'll find a place you're comfortable with soon enough."

"Yeah," Laxus said, though he found himself unsure of his words.

Freed gave him a small nod, and they both continued walking down the busy street and towards the inn that Freed had spoken about. Again, as they walked, Laxus found his mind wondering. This time, however, his mind was entirely occupied by the man he was walking beside. And, unlike before, the feeling in his stomach was that of warmth.

A month ago, this man had turned his life around for the worse. Now he was traveling with him, and glad of it too. In fact, Freed really wasn't that bad of a person to be around; he was good company and pretty similar to Laxus. And, if Laxus was honest, not bad looking too.

Huh. That was new.

[not-all-that-chic]

A Purple Haze

parts  ⟨  prologue  |  yugyeom  |  youngjae  |  jinyoung  |  bambam  |  mark  |  jackson  |  jaebum  |  epilogue  ⟩

wordcount | 5.3k

warnings | master/slave, masochism, thigh-riding, squirting, bondage

rec. track |  ♫ ♩

After I get appropriately dressed with clean undergarments, I sit in the chair in front of his desk. I flip the book to its first page. Already, it's so intriguing. True to his character, the notes written are barely legible, ideas flowing from one section of the page of the other. Scratching my head, I try to decipher everything.

The Land of Wonder started off as nature until the Watchmaker came and created his tower. No one knows how exactly this happened. Then the ruins appeared. Who knows what came first: the Clocktower or the ruins. After the King of Hearts started to rule the north was under his control, but the Watchmaker never join-

I shut the journal, knowing it's useless to continue reading. There is some semblance of coherency, then it becomes lost in the jumbled thoughts. He writes just like he thinks: from one idea to the next. With a sigh, I put the journal back into his drawer, but then my eyes catch sight of something interesting.

It nearly slips out of my hands when I pick it up— from all the dust. I blow on it and then wipe the cover.

Tales of Wonder. Written by the Watchmaker.

This Watchmaker person... he must be important if he is mentioned by the White Rabbit so many times.

"Hopefully I can understand this one," I mumble as I flip it open.

Hello. If you are reading this, you are most likely a Wanderer, sucked through the portal of this land.

My eyes widen; clearly, this person knows a lot. The Watchmaker. Who is he? And then I wonder, am I not the first "wanderer" to come through here?

I go on.

I am the Watchmaker, the first resident of this land. I must inform you that this place is extremely dangerous. Once you have collected three keys, the risk only increases. The sequence of key collection is always the same. You must be cautious; none have collected the seventh key, as the (future) King of Hearts is cruel and evil.

I turn pale. The King of Hearts is the last Guardian.

Since the Duke of White created his kingdom, we have been in a sea of endless turmoil. To add to the fire, the Mad Hatter also included himself in the firefight. You see, for decades now, the northern and southern kingdoms have been fighting for control. Along with the Mad Hatter, we have been split and forced to choose sides, an impending war upon us.

I swallow. How did I remain oblivious of this all this time?

The northern Heart Court, the center Hatter Mansion, and the southern White Court. You must be able to traverse through this land, obtain the seven keys and leave. However, most who arrive here never are able to leave-

I slam the book shut. A cold sweat forms on my back.

"Why did you stop?" Jumping so hard, I fall out of my chair. Jackson is leaning against the desk, finger rubbing down the spine of the book.

"Jackson!" He grins when he hears me.

"Happy to see me? Hm?" His eyes glow an ominous color. This cat, so full of mystery.

"Yes."

"I appreciate your honesty," he purrs, sitting on top of the desk. For a long moment, he stares at me. "What are you waiting for? Come sit, Pet."

"I don't know if I want to read any more of that..." Jackson shakes his head after I sit down. My hands are in my lap as I shift my gaze back to the book.

"As much as it scares you, you must finish it."

"Why can't you explain to me instead?" His tail swings back and forth.

"My explanations are not as clear as Namjoon's."

"Wh-"

"The Watchmaker," he answers me. He points his finger at the book. "Come. Read it."

Nodding, I go back to where I left off.

With conflict like this brewing, there must be a weapon of mass destruction or breaking point. I am unaware of what the kingdoms are planning, but it does not bode well. There is nothing within your power that can stop this. Wanderer. All I can hope is that you can survive to leave this place. That you will not be here for the inevitable demise of the Land of Wonder.

A hand brushes my cheek. I turn to the Cheshire, who is somber.

"Tears do nothing."

"Jackson... Aren't you scared?" He places a hand on my head.

"Of course. However, no one can do anything. The Watchmaker and I can only watch as this place slowly crumbles." My gaze drops to my hands in my lap.

Why must something so terrible happen in a place so beautiful and unique? I thought it would be perfect here. Somewhere for me to have fun and go on.

"Is there nothing that can be done?"

"No. Unless the lost princess returns."

Now that is interesting. As of yet, I haven't seen or heard of any women aside from the Queen of Hearts.

"Who is that?" I tilt my head.

Strangely, the grandfather clock downstairs chimes loudly. Three times it rings.

He seems to mull over telling me until a wicked grin appears on his face again. His eyes still sparkle with sadness, but the ever Cheshire smile remains on his lips.

He hops off the desk and motions for me to get up.

"Perhaps I can tell you another time." Jackson pushes me out of the room and down the stairs until we reach the front door.

"J-Jackson! Hey!"

"Now now. Don't strain your voice yelling at me. I must be going now."

"Where? Where do you go? Why don't you stay?" I nearly stumble down the hill. Jackson only clicks his tongue and shakes his head.

Once again, I'm in the forest.

"I cannot answer that. What's a Cheshire without his secrets?" Just as turn around to give him a good tongue lashing, he's disappeared.

"What in the world! You-you!" I sigh.

Wonderful. I am alone again. And lost again. Well, I suppose being lost is a normalcy in this place. To think I have only collected two keys.

I know that the King of Hearts is the last Guardian. And that makes me chilled to the bone. I have heard only bad things about him. Is he as horrible as everyone says? Even the Watchmaker, who is so wise, believes he is evil.

How can someone villainous be a Guardian?

And a sudden— but enlightening —thought hits me.

Jackson said earlier that he and the Watchmaker must watch as the world crumbles. What does that make Jackson? Where do they stand? How can I possibly go on and enjoy this journey knowing this ever-present danger is looming over me?

The more I learn, the more questions I have. So far, none have been answered. This place is more than the peaceful, fantasy world I originally envisioned.

You will come to learn, nothing is ever perfect, Pet.

The first thing I hear is the melodious voices of who knows what. Everything seems to sparkle after the storm, the water on leaves looking like diamonds. This area of the forest is especially beautiful. Rich, green plants, and tall pines.

This is definitely different from the other forests, which were thick and full of trees. It exudes a welcoming and beautiful aura— if an aura could be described as beautiful, that is.

"And I could finally fly~"

I stop in my tracks. Quietly, I hide behind a tree. A few in front of me, there is a man surrounded by beautiful flowers. Flowers abnormally large, but I'm sure that's nothing out of the ordinary here.

"The rain can't touch us now~"

"Now~"

"Dee Dee deeeee~"

Blinking rapidly, it dawns on me that he isn't the only one singing; the flowers are as well!

I come a bit closer, enraptured by the music and his beauty. He notices me, standing straight up and giving me a most angelic smile.

His hair is a soft, bubblegum pink and he is perhaps one of the most attractive men I have ever seen. His attire is regal: an all-white ensemble with golden accents and golden lapels. Do angels exist in the Land of Wonder?

He bows— and I'm terribly caught off guard, so I stand there like a gaping fish —and I follow with a curtsy.

"Oh. You have manners. Those are difficult to find here. It's a pleasure to meet you. I am called Rose."

After I introduce myself, ever curious, I ask, "Is that your real name?"

"My personal name is Seokjin, but I would appreciate you refer to me as Rose, after all, you are no friend of mine."

Although it is true, it hurts to hear. Everyone thus far has been so friendly, so this is a shock.

"Do not be hurt," he chirps. Smiling again, he grabs my hand and places me on a rock. His arm flairs behind him and the flowers all sparkle to life.

My eyes glimmer with awe, hands clasped together.

"Would you like to hear my newest piece?"

"Yes. That would be nice." Just like that, he turns serious, adjusting his cravat. His hand sparkles and a stick appears within it.

"Huh-hum-" he clears his throat.

"Do not waste time." Another voice appears. When I turn my head, I spot another extremely handsome and regal man. Rose looks at him with contempt.

"Vile creature. You know I dislike your presence."

"Likewise," the man addresses him coldly. He looks to me, eyes regarding me with interest. Who is this man?

"You've anything to say? Or will you stare at my guest?" The newcomer waves him off and comes forward.

I rise from my seat naturally, his simple presence making me want to obey. He looks me up and down, then his eyes spot something hanging from my waist: my keys. His eyes change.

"Follow me." As simple as that, he stuffs his hands into his pockets and moves in the direction from which he came. Looking at Rose, I silently ask if I should. I'm unsure if I should trust him, but what really do I know? Neither of these men seems particularly kind.

Although he is disgusted by the man, he crosses his arms and says, "The parasite never shows interest in anyone. I suggest you do as he asks."

Nodding, I thank him and pick up my dress to follow the other man. He is silent and very slow as he leads me through the tall blades of grass. For a place where everyone is dressed rather antiquated, his all-black suit stands out. The only thing I find odd is his coattails which are so long they drag on the ground.

He suddenly stops and raises his arm high into the air. I begin to wonder why, but he shushes me. A purple orb appears in his hand, bathing the area in a lavender light. And amazing to behold, the grass before us parts. His long legs guide him through as I confusedly stumble after him.

When we enter the secluded area, I have to stop, the sight so breathtaking. We are in a cave of sorts, vines hanging from the ceiling. The sunlight that peaks through is filtered through a purple tarp— that he likely set up —that bathes the area in a rich, violet glow. In the middle, there is a mushroom with a purple satin sheet where he promptly sits.

A pipe of sorts appears in his hand, attached to a long cord and a bong. I've never seen anything like it in my life. And he smokes it, sighing as he does so. I feel confused by it, but say nothing about it.

"Who are you?" He takes a long drag, different colored smoke leaving his lips.

"My name is-"

"Who are you?" I'm taken aback.

"That's what I was about to-" his ears grow red as he leans forward, in my face.

"No. Who. Are. You?" The smoke comes out of his lips and on my face. I cough and ball up my fists. Why did he drag me here? To question me and not let me answer?

"Listen up...you!"

"My name is not you. It is Jinyoung. Learn to respect others."

"Respect! You say respect?!" I come up in his face and he leans forward with just as much fervor. Intimidated, I move back.

"The Caterpillar."

"Caterpillar?"

"I know why you are here." Furrowing my brows, I am now rapt with attention. How is that he doesn't know who I am but knows why I am here?

Then he pulls a key out of his pocket. My eyes widen as I look back up at him. He is suddenly removing his jacket. I blush furiously.

"Let's get on with it, shall we?"

"W-what?" He looks unamused as he stares at me.

"Have you not done this twice already? You should come to expect it. Now," he says as he unbuckles his belt. "Bend over so I can end this quickly."

I somehow feel like a nuisance. All I want to do is leave this place and finish Jackson's game, but I want to do it enjoyably. Is that not what it means to play a game? However, I hike my dress up. Jinyoung's tongue clicks.

"Do you not want to go home?" He voices my thoughts.

"Well, yes, but this is a bit..."

"Detached? Would you like more than just simple coitus?" When he puts it that way, it makes me feel desperate. I feel worthless. My legs shake.

"I don't know..."

"I would like to offer some advice." Jinyoung waits for me to nod. "Your heart is too kind. Do not let yourself be manipulated by the people of this land. Not everyone will be forthcoming with their intentions as I have been." I blink, his statement oddly comforting and wise.

"I will take that to heart. Thank you very much, Jinyoung." The sound of his disrobing stops. I wonder why, so I turn around, but his lips capture mine as soon as I do.

Soft, silky. My mind is invaded by a fog. They feel so plush and warm. My heart speeds up. This is much different from his attitude only seconds before. His arm wraps around my waist, hiking my dress up and placing a hand on my ass. He gives it a light squeeze and I moan into his mouth.

We separate, a thin string of saliva between our lips. Jinyoung's eyes are penetrating mine, looking at me with hunger.

"You are a beautiful girl. I would have loved to have been your first." A long, thin finger trails around my panties, playing with the hem. I gulp. He grabs my hair and pulls my head back before his lips meet my throat. His lips kiss up the column and I shiver, closing my eyes from the pleasure.

He knows what he is doing.

Jinyoung then places a hand over my heat. He does nothing, simply sits it there. The mere insinuation makes my imagination run wild. I moan, begging wordlessly for him to do something. When I begin grinding against his hand, he gets rid of it. Despite my whining, he doesn't relent.

"Strip," he commands. I feel shaken and stirred by his voice, rushing to do exactly as he asked. Once I'm naked, he looks me up and down. It's a bit humiliating to be stared at like an object, but it gives me a thrill I can't place. An all-knowing smirk forms on his perfect lips. His finger motions for me to come closer.

I eagerly place myself on his thigh. My eyes meet his, waiting for whatever he has in store for me next. I'm putty in his hands.

"You're so horny. Well, work for it." He leans back.

"W-what?" The Caterpillar rolls his eyes before he grabs my hips. He pushes me against his thigh, my clit rubbing against the rough fabric of his pants.

"A-ah!" The feeling hurts, but it's so deliciously painful that it becomes pleasure. This direct stimulus on my clit has me shaking.

I quickly understand exactly what he wants. Leaning against him, my fingers clench around his shirt as I press myself on his pants. A weak whine comes from my lips. This isn't enough.

My pace quickens as I grind harder and harder against his pants, but this can only do so much for me. I press onward, searching for my high. More. I need more.

He sighs and rolls his eyes, bored. "So useless. This can't get me hard."

He realizes that I need something else and clenches his thigh muscle. The feeling of his hard muscle on my wet pussy drives me crazy. There's nothing inside me and yet I feel so full. I rut against his thigh faster as he clenches and unclenches his muscle.

My clit is raw from my rubbing, but I can feel myself building, ready to burst. A little pain is nothing for the pleasure bound to come.

"Look how you make a mess."

"Oh, Jinyoung," I drag out his name as I watch the wet spot on his pants grow. It makes me feel like a mess, knowing I’m messing up his nice pants.

He suddenly grabs my hips, stopping me as he glares at me.

"What did I say about respect?" I try grinding again, unsatisfied by him ruining the moment. He keeps a hard— certain to bruise —grip on my hips.

"Call me Master and I'll let you go."

A bright red blush forms on my cheeks. The idea of calling someone that is so embarrassing, but I want to. I really don't understand this commanding effect he has on me. It makes me feel inferior, but I'm somehow turned on further, my pussy sopping wet and eager for him. I bite my lip hard enough to draw blood.

"Master... May I please keep grinding on your leg?" It takes a lot to say that, but I'm rewarded by his gentle smile and a peck to the lips.

"Such a good slave. So polite. Go ahead." I shiver. He releases his grip and my clit throbs once I return to my grinding. How do I look, so desperately grinding against his thigh like a bitch in heat while he remains so unaffected? Jinyoung grabs my chin and grazes my bottom lip with his thumb.

Then he slides at in as I moan and lick it. He smirks at this. That face is so damn hot that I feel it in my whole body. The idea of him sticking his cock inside of my mouth instead of his finger fills my head. My clit pulsates and I practically am sliding on his thigh from how wet it has gotten.

"Wouldn't you like to cum all over my pants? Get them dirty with your juices." Moaning so loud, his words egg me on further. If possible, I grind harder. My chest heaves with the labor he's putting me through.

"Oh god!" I feel like I'm about to cum. He knows it. Stars flicker in my vision as a knot forms in my belly. It's painfully close.

"I have something fun planned for you. If you hurry and cum, Master will make you feel even better." That’s my breaking point. With one last grind, my body trembles with the aftershocks of my orgasm. Something strange washes over me as Jinyoung rubs my back. 

I feel whole.

"Did I do well, Master?" I lean against him, breathing hard.

"You did well, Slave. Why don't you go sit down on the mushroom?" Nodding, I obediently go to sit, my legs numb from the powerful orgasm. I nearly topple over.

When I glance over at him, there is a huge bulge in his pants. Well, I'm not the only one that was turned on. I managed to get him hard and it makes me proud.

He stands in front of me and commands, "Take off my clothes. Be a useful slave." Smiling, I reach over and unbutton his shirt easily. His body amazes me.

"Can I touch, Master?"

"Go ahead." My eyes sparkle as I run my hands over his built chest and abs. He's so handsome I feel breathless. I glance down at his pants and lick my lips. That's what makes me most excited. Although his beauty is a bonus.

"Master, can I suck your cock?" Jinyoung is taken aback by this, my expression so seemingly pure, the question sounding so innocent, but the intent nothing but filthy.

For the first time, he groans. It makes me so happy to have pleased him.

"What I would do to shove my cock down your throat."

"Why don't you?" He chuckles.

"Perhaps another time. I promised to make you feel good." My face erupts in a pink blush. I can say with certainty that I have never met someone so selfless. Yes, I realize it is sex, but he is so focused on my wants and needs that he has forgotten his own needs.

He acted so cold at first, but through sex, he has shown a softer side. Fuzziness bubbles in my chest.

"Thank you, Master."

"Turn around." Once I do so, I feel satin wrap around my wrists. It makes me a little nervous, but I'm sure he will treat me well enough. I can't help feeling such innate trust with him.

Jinyoung gently picks me up and places me back toward him.

"Have you done something like this?"

"Never."

"If you say 'Caterpillar', I will stop." I smile again and he returns it.

He lies me down on the mushroom and now I am at his mercy. His soft lips brush against mine. They're wet and mine are already bruised from biting them earlier. Jinyoung's tongue peeks out to rub against the small cut. I moan at the slight burn.

Everything has been an amazing mix of pain and pleasure, push and pull. It's satisfying to all my senses. Jinyoung pulls back and starts a trail of kisses down my chest before he latches onto my nipple. My hands are immobilized, under my body. I so badly want to shove my hands in his hair and bring him closer.

This teasing is making me horny again.

He circles my nipple with his tongue, sucking on it occasionally and releasing it with a pop. Jinyoung presses a kiss to the nipple and moves the other, giving it the same attention. His teeth come out and take the nub between them. It hurts a little, but in the best way.

This man knows exactly what to touch to make me feel good. I could probably cum now if he keeps this up.

His mouth migrates down to my belly. To my shock, he licks my belly button. That strange tickle has me arching into his mouth. He chuckles and god does that make me want him even more. I feel so desperate to touch him and make him feel good, too.

"You're moaning so loud. You're enjoying this a little too much." I hadn't even noticed I was moaning. All I can focus on is Jinyoung and his amazing tongue.

"Oh, Master please touch my pussy!" I can't stop the words from slipping, but as lewd as it is, I can't find a reason to care. We're in our own world and I just want him to make me feel good.

He removes himself from me and I watch as he removes his pants and underwear in one fast swipe. His cock is impressive and I wiggle, already imagining it inside me.

Jinyoung raises his hand and a purple object appears in his hand. It dawns on me as he grabs one in each hand.

My pussy has never been so wet. All these strange things, new feelings. None of these...kinks have ever occurred to me before, but now the idea of them is the only thing I can think of, so excited to try everything he has in mind.

He comes forward and gently attaches the nipple clamps to each of my nipples. It hurts, but I love it and I moan and buck upward, so desperate to get fucked now I probably seem insane.

"Oh, please Master! Please fuck me so hard I can't walk!" Jinyoung smirks and shakes his head.

"As pretty as you are when you talk, I'll need to do something about that."

Before I can ask, his hand materializes a gag. He comes behind me and sits me up, tying the ball gag around my mouth. I moan and lean against his chest, my ass brushing against his hard cock.

His hand reaches forward as his finger barely grazes my pussy lips.

Absolute electricity runs up my spine. My head lands on his shoulder.

"Look at my little slave. That pussy is so wet I could shove my finger in it and it would swallow it up," he whispers in my ear, his breath warm. I clench around nothing and moan, nodding. Saliva gathers around the gag, the image forming in my head getting me hot.

"I'm going to put a blindfold on you. Be good for me."

He gingerly sets it on my eyes and once he ties it around my head, I realize that I'm placing my full trust in him. It makes me nervous but also turns me on. I'm completely at his mercy, ready for him to do what he pleases with my body.

Jinyoung maneuvers me onto my back again. Then he spreads my legs. I feel myself trembling with anticipation. His weight moves around and then I feel something warm against my clit. What is that? His finger? His tongue?

"You smell lovely," he admits as he blows cold air onto my abused clit. It's soothing. I feel his hands reach up, running up and down my inner thighs.

I can practically smell my desire in the air. The feeling of his hands on my thighs is such a banality, but with Jinyoung, everything is more exciting and sexy and turns me on— I can't explain how good it feels.

His hands part my pussy lips open, but he does nothing.

"I can't wait to stick my dick inside." I practically sob, wanting no more than to tell him, "Do it!"

I hear something plastic opening and Jinyoung shuffles above me. A condom. Safety is extremely important and how very Jinyoung of him to have that foresight.

Instead of making me wait, the head of his cock rubs against my entrance and feel myself sag with relief of finally getting what I have been waiting for.

"Nod if you are okay." I do so and he gently shoves his large dick inside. My body arches off the sheets and he chuckles. He waits a few moments for me to adjust until I wiggle, motioning for him to go.

And Jinyoung starts off extremely slow, his thrust deep, but almost teasing. I have an odd feeling he won't be so gentle once we start.

He presses his fingers onto the nipple clamps, the pain shooting through me and I moan so loud it is bordering on a scream. Jinyoung laps at my neck and bites some spots hard enough to leave a mark. An especially deep thrust hits my g-spot— my eyes roll.

I throw my head back, not knowing what to do with all the sensations.

"Look at you. I wish you could see yourself, Slave. You look like so needy. I make you like this, hm?" His cocky tone shoots to abused pussy and he starts picking up his pace, pumping inside me at a merciless pace.

He grunts and I moan and pant along with him, his sounds bringing me closer and closer. With a hand, he sticks two fingers inside me, as if his cock wasn't enough. My heart is beating so fast I feel like it will escape my ribcage. His fingers curl and hit my g spot every time, building my pleasure beyond reason.

I want to use my hands and eyes, see him and feel him, but the uselessness of my situation is, in fact, more exhilarating. Jinyoung makes use of my gag and pushes the ball against my tongue, making me gag on my own saliva.

The same, white-hot feeling creeps up. And I feel it everywhere. From my numb arms to my chest to my legs to my pussy.

Jinyoung leans forward, pressing his chest against mine and groans, his thrusting wild now and I can tell that after all that teasing, he's near his end, too. His fingers move faster inside me, his thumb rubbing my clit as well as his other hand tweaks my nipple while he also sucks hickeys on my neck.

His goal is to destroy me.

And with a few more pumps, I scream from behind my gag and convulse, thrusting upward. The feeling is overwhelming and I feel like I'm nearly passing out from the intense pleasure. Something strange spurts out of my pussy, almost like pee. Jinyoung— after such a show cums with deep, guttural sigh.

He instantly peels the gag and blindfold off me, smiling down at me with pride. His arms keep him upright as he lets his cock go limp inside me. Jinyoung presses a peck on my lips. I sigh.

That was such a journey, not just sexually, but mentally.

"You squirted," he chuckles. Blushing, I close my eyes and look away. He then sits me up to untie my hands.

Jinyoung makes a blanket materialize in his hands as he wraps it around us. It makes me happy, to be treated so well.

"I would like to offer more advice before I give you my key. Once I give it to you, I must send you on your way." He rubs my back as I cuddle deeper into the blanket.

"Hm?"

"The next Guardian you will meet is the Mad Hatter."

Mad Hatter. I have heard that name. He is fighting against the Heart and White Court. But he isn't a king. Not in the traditional sense.

"From this point forward, everyone you meet has an important role in the endless tick of the Land of Wonder. We in the Deep Woods do not play a part in the war."

I gulp and nod. War. Again.

"Thank you, Jinyoung. This is the most help I've gotten." He sighs and shakes his head.

"Typical. Should you have any doubts, it would be a great pleasure to help. You are the first wanderer to be...different."

Then, the moment I have been anticipating: his key. There is a large bow on the key, almost taking up the whole key. The key itself is small, a simple rod with no teeth. From the violet bow, there is a golden chain hanging. At the top, the hole has a triangle shape with three holes.

He gingerly places it on top of my dress.

"You can stay as long as you please. I need to have a long rest."

"Jinyoung, can I ask one more thing?" He hums to show he is listening.

"Can you tell me about the Mad Hatter?"

"The Mad Hatter will be kind to you, but his kindness is for the sake of his pride."

He smiles and using some magic, makes the cave a bit darker. "Now, I suggest you rest before you continue. The Hatter mansion is far from here."

[lovelyfictional-imagines]

New Hero. (Hogwarts Mystery!Bill Weasley x Ravenclaw!Reader)

I thought this posted, not sure if it did or my computer is just being screwy. But I originally wrote this for a friend of mine, a fellow Ravenclaw, hence why the reader is one as well. I also feel it goes along with Rowan’s personality, as well.

I hope you enjoy this break in between Doctor Who fics, because I’m editing a Twelve one right now! 

This is a bit shorter than what I’d originally wrote, my apologies. Thank you to those who read! Feel free to send feedback or requests or asks, or just pop in my inbox and I’ll be happy to respond as soon as I can.

This is for you, Tabby.

Until next fic,

- Ashley

Word Count: 1512

For what felt like the millionth time that evening Bill caught his attention slipping to the source of the voice rather than the voice itself. In silent wonder he watched her skim over his parchment, reading in a slow, steady pace. (E/C) eyes squinted behind her glasses, obviously trying not to let on just exactly how visually impaired she was. He’d called on her at a late time for help, almost guaranteeing the chances of wearing them.

So now he was sitting next to her, face almost as red as his hair, on a candlelit evening in a secluded corner of the library. Her (H/C) hair was messily thrown back, bangs just barely brushed out of her face. All he wanted to do was slip his fingers into the curls at the back of her neck and watch her fall asleep against him. Not sit in such proximity under the guise of studying just so he could finally have a moment alone with her.

Friends in her year always had her tied up in something. Penny was always whisking her off to brew some obscure potion, Rowan was always uncomfortably close when she came round and Ben was too intimidated by an “upperclassman”, which is what he had referred to Bill as with a frightened glance, to allow (Y/N) even a brief hello. Any moment he’d found to be with his new friend, he took, knowing it may be a while before they’re alone again.

At last he’d been able to whisk her away under the guise of studying exams while Rowan was distracted in some book, searching for a quote he’d requested. What felt like owls were had rushed through his stomach at the sight of her cheeky grin, knowing exactly what he was up to with a simple glance. “Meet me tonight in the library alone, I desperately need help studying and the fate of my education lays in your hands, Miss (L/N).”

Quirking a brow, she almost questioned him, looking to Rowan’s hidden face before closing her mouth in a smirk. “Alright, Mr. Weasley.”

“You’re my only hope!” He claimed, dramatically throwing his arm over his eyes. Peeking through, he watched her stifle a laugh as Rowan began reading out loud. Bill shot her a wink before moving his attention to their studious friend. Graciously he’d thanked her for her contribution, to which she sputtered and blushed, and moved on his merry way to the Gryffindor table to resume his dinner.

“Bill!” She’d spoken, waving a delicate hand in front of his face, drawing him from his reverie. “You alright? You’re spacing out.” Concern laced her voice as she leaned forward, inspecting his face. Gathering her books into her arms and shoving them into her bag, she stood and leaned over him. His breath caught in his throat at her proximity. “Are you too stressed out? Maybe you need to go lie down, have some chocolate-“

“No!” He finally choked out, causing her to jump back a bit. Finally able to breathe again, he grinned between coughs. “Just thinking about the Cursed Vaults. They can be attention-grabbing, you should know.”

Grinning at him, smile half full of relief and sheepishness. “Maybe we should study another time. I’m good Wednesday, unless Professor McGonogall changes the due date for my essay on the possible side effects of-“

Off she was in a one-sided discussion, attempting to get all of the dates correct in her head. Bill only sat back, smiling at her. She’d become his best friend, his confidant, the one person he wanted to be around at the end of the day. If only she were in Gryffindor, he often thought. Then they could sit around the fire in the common room, share Honeydukes sweets he’d brought back and talk until dark. The idea of it caused his ears to burn and a pleasant weight thumped in his chest.

“(N/N)! (Y/N), it’s alright.” He stood, gathering his own books and slipping them into his satchel before effortlessly throwing it over his shoulder. “Wednesday sounds like a plan, and thank you for taking the time out of your schedule to help us unprepared little people. Want me to walk you to your common room?” Looming over her, he grinned at her stunned expression. “A-ah, are you sure? It’s an awful distance from the Gryffindor common room, and this close to curfew..” she’d recovered quickly, looking down. How thoughtful, as always.

“It’s alright, we’ll have you back to Rowan in no time, and I’ll rush back to my dorm. Won’t even know i was missing.” Giving her his most reassuring smile, she finally eased back into her usual sweet expression. “Alright.”

Laughter echoed off the stone walls as they walked down the hall towards the east towers. Their small journey was coming to an end, and Bill couldn’t help but feel a bit down as they neared the entrance to Ravenclaw Tower. The door stood in front of them ominously as they came to a halt, laughter’s death leaving the ghosts of tears and smiles on their cheeks.

“Well, I guess this is my stop. Thank you, Sir Knight, I’ve no clue what I would’ve done without you. A Cursed Vault was sure to swallow me up without your bravery.” Nudging him with a cheeky grin, he burst into a fit of giggles. “Of course my lady! Tis my duty to keep fair maidens like yourself safe from harm! Now that you are safe, I must depart for Knight Headquarters! Farewell my good lady!”

With that he took off down the hall, looking back to throw her that trademark smile of his as she waved her scarf at him, clutching her chest and laughing. Looking back again, he watched her speak to the door and enter.

Long after he stopped running his heart still thudded quickly and his cheeks were a rosy shade of pink as he entered the common room and into his usual circle of peers.

The next time he found her, she was in the Clocktower Courtyard, propped up rather comfortably on an uncomfortable looking seat. She’d managed to somehow climb onto one of the large roots that grew through the corners of the courtyard, perched next to a stack of books almost as tall as her sitting form. Face tucked away in a history of magic text book, only her hair and the tip of her wand, which was tucked away behind her ear, were visible. Rowan was laying against the root beneath her, nose buried in a dusty tome as well.

“Greetings ladies, lovely day to be one with nature, is it not?” Rowan jumped with a loud “oh!” as she recognized the owner of the voice. The tome toppled out of her lap onto the ground, causing her own stack to fall as well. Scrambling to somewhat organize it again, at last she looked up at Bill with an embarrassed smile. “Hi, Bill.”

Above them (Y/N) was stifling her laughter, grinning into the sleeve of her cardigan. “Are you alright, Rowan?”

“Yes! Yes! Totally perfect. Fine. Cool.” Her voice was anxious and fast, high-pitched and airy. Bill smiled at her before moving his gaze back to the reason he’d come. (Y/N) laughed at her friend, burying her face in her hands. At last, she reappeared and cupped her chin, elbows against her knees. He took this opportunity to observe her relaxed appearance, dressed down compared to drowning in her robes.

“To what do we owe the pleasure of this visit, Bill?”

“Ah, just needed some new reading material. Rowan?” At the sound of her name, it seemed Rowan was brought back to reality from some fantasy she’d lost herself in whilst gazing at the oldest Weasley’s face. “Ah! Yes! A book! I can do that.”

Shuffling through the pile around her, she finally pulled out a dusty green one. It had stains in some places, but looked to be in fair condition nonetheless. She held it out to him with a trembling hand, giggling when he took it.

“Thank you, ladies. But I must ask another favor.”

“Anything, Bill!” Rowan cried.

“Would you allow me to join your afternoon and read with you both?” He looked at (Y/N), then back to Rowan. Rowan nodded profusely, turning to nod at (Y/N). The (brunette/blonde/etc.) laughed, taking a breath and nodding along with her. Bill grinned, bowing graciously at both of the girls.

“Thank you, and thank you.”

Carefully he began to scale the enormous growth until he’d found himself almost face to face with Hogwarts’ current hero. (E/C) eyes wide and cheeks pink, she turned away from him, shuffling back into her book. Hiding his own blush, he crawled to a space further down from her, and began to skim over the literature Rowan had offered.

Peeking over the worn cover, he caught her own sly gaze. He smiled to himself as her embarrassed expression disappeared once again, and began to actually read.

This new hero was doing more than stirring up mysteries and causing trouble, it seemed..

[mrandmrsvex]

Rating: General Audiences Relationships: Percival "Percy" Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III/Vex'ahlia Additional Tags: Valentine's fluff, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Secret Admirer gone wrong gone right Summary:

Vex doesn't care about Valentine's Day. She doesn't mind being alone, not at all. But a message from a secret admirer is far too interesting not to follow.

Percy doesn't care about Valentine's Day. He forgets about it, mostly. But a message from a secret admirer piques his interest.

Vex didn't care for Valentine's Day. It was overblown. Commercial. Fake. Why demand to excessively celebrate love on a particular day? What nonsense. She didn't care for it, not one bit.

This, of course, had nothing to do with the fact that she was single on this year's Valentine's. It was a matter of principle.

After all, there wasn't anyone she was interested in anyway. No one she could think of to even ask for a date, not even a non-committal one. And even if she did, he wouldn't be interested. He didn't care for Valentine's Day either. So she didn't care. She'd enjoy the day alone, and it would be perfectly fine. She didn't care for Valentine's day at all.

Vax could only sigh as he listened to her replay this particular rant for the umpteenth time in the last two days. Valentine's was tomorrow, and Vex was committed to pretending like it was no big deal.

„That's good to know.“ Vax said in the most monotone voice he could muster. „Then I won't have to feel bad being out all day with Kiki.“

„Not at all. Go have fun. I'll enjoy myself.“

Vex had two tubs of chocolate ice cream, a good movie, and a cuddly dog. She didn't need anything more. Valentine's Day was no big deal.

Percy genuinely didn't care for Valentine's Day. In fact, he'd mostly forgotten about it in the past few years, even as shops and television commercials covered everything with pink hearts. It wasn't really something that registered as important on his radar.

He remembered the few awkward attempts at secret admirer gifts in his early teens, sure. He also remembered everyone's confusion when he'd decided to not pursue any kind of date later on, even when they were offered by strangely interested girls (he never understood what they could see in him, what he would have to offer, except maybe the promise of paying for the fanciest restaurants with his parents' money), while his siblings were out and about celebrating each year.

Percy just didn't care for any of it. It worried Keyleth, to some extent.

„I'm not saying you have to have a date tomorrow. You're free to do whatever you want! I just wanna make sure you really don't mind being alone. I know you're alone a lot, but, you know. I can still tell Vax to postpone our date if you want!“

„Keyleth.“ He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. „Even if I did care, I wouldn't dare make an enemy out of Vax by keeping you to myself on Valentine's. For heaven's sake, go out and eat all the cake he can afford to buy you tomorrow. I'll be fine.“

„Okay. But you know you can call or text if you change your mind. Any time!“

Vex woke up the next day with an empty, aching feeling to her stomach. No, goddamnit. She wouldn't mind. She didn't care. She repeated her mantra while she got dressed, and on the way out to the mailbox. Why she'd check today, of all days, she didn't really know. All she could expect were some love letters to Vax, sent by secret admirers (Keyleth went the more personal route, she knew, handing over any letters personally), or maybe some unwanted bills as usual.

She didn't expect the small red box full of chocolates, a tiny white envelope with her name on it on top.

Time seemed to halt for a second as she stared at the letter inside.

                Meet me outside the art history museum at noon

Vex's heart was racing even while she sat on the side of the large stone stairs leading up to the museum. This was ridiculous. Stupid. What was she doing? Waiting for someone she didn't even know. On Valentine's Day. In one of her nicest dresses. Make-up on, even.

She was an idiot. But somehow, she had been unable to resist. It was hard to admit, but something inside her had become excited, almost overexcited, as she was getting ready.

And here she was now, waiting to see her secret messenger.

The large clocktower of the museum rang. 12pm.

Ten past noon.

Quarter past.

Half past twelve.

No one was coming. People were strolling past her. Couples, holding hands.

Her rage was rising. Why was she still waiting? Half an hour. Even if the mysterious messenger showed up now, they shouldn't expect to see her anywhere. They should be ashamed.

Almost as ashamed as she felt right now.

Her eyes scanned the street once again and stopped at a familiar mess of white hair, peeking out from beside a column of the building's side. A glint of golden glasses.

It couldn't possibly be Percy. He'd never be late to anything, especially not to a date he set up himself, she thought to herself before hearing an equally familiar voice.

„Vex! Hi.“

It was Percy. In front of her now. It couldn't be – he wouldn't send – would he?

„Are you waiting for someone?“

It wasn't Percy. She wasn' sure whether she felt relieved about that or not.

„Yeah, just... waiting for a friend. But I think they forgot. No one could be that late. What are you doing here?“

„Oh, nothing, really.“ Percy's mind was racing. He had to come up with a convicing lie, quick. It was usually easy, but this was Vex. And he could barely lie to her when he was prepared for it.

„I wanted to find someplace to hide from all this cutesy loveydovey mess everywhere, and I figured the museum would still be safe.“

Good. A believable lie. It looked like she believed it, at least.

There really was no need to tell her the truth. He embarassed himself in front of her often enough. She didn't need to know about the ridiculous situation he'd put himself in now.

What had he been thinking, following the offer of that stupid letter he'd found in his workshop this morning? Of course there'd be no one wearing a red skirt anywhere. It was a prank, from Vax maybe, or Scanlan and Grog, hiding somewhere right now laughing their asses off at his idiocy. That he'd seriously believed it could be someone, maybe someone he knew, someone he wanted to spend the day with-

Vex's dress was cream-coloured, and it wasn't even a skirt. He'd noticed when he approached her, but still. He'd hoped. For a second.

„Would you mind some company on your quest for a sane refuge? Or is this a solitary mission?“ Vex winked at him, and Percy blushed.

„No, of course, by all means.“ He offered her a hand as she stood up.

He paid her entrance fee, of course. It was only the polite thing to do.

Vex had rarely ever had more fun at a museum. Percy knew surprisingly much about art – then again, he seemed to know a little bit about almost anything. She smiled softly as he began his impromptu guide tour in the way that Vax had titled „Professor de Rolo style“ long ago.

In the medieval section, though, she couldn't keep down a short giggle while nudging him in the side, pointing at several paintings.

„They all look like they're incredibly suspicious about each other. Just look at Mary giving the stink-eye to an angel.“

Percy tried to keep his serious face for barely a few seconds before snickering himself and pulling her over to the Renaissance room.

„That's nothing. I'm far more impressed by all the buff Jesus babies. Look at the six pack on this one.“

The security people in each room became more and more tired of their giggling as they snarked their way through almost the whole exhibition.

The Impressionist's wing was a different story. Vex fell silent almost as soon as they entered, and bee-lined to a particularly large painting full of soft blue and golden hues.

„This is incredible.“ She mumbled as Percy came up to her side.

„Do you want to sit and watch for a while?“ He gestured to the conveniently placed bench behind them.

„Yes!“ She was already sitting down. „If you don't mind, I mean-...?“ „Absolutely not.“ He sat down beside her.

She was far too entranced with the painting to notice that Percy wasn't giving it much more than a second look. He was far busier watching her, wide-eyed and smiling as her gaze trailed across the colours.

„I have to say.“ Vex smiled at him as they walked down the stairs, the sun already setting. „That was definitely a nicer way to spend Valentine's Day than I'd planned.“

„I'm glad I could make for good company.“ Percy returned her smile as they reached the street and stopped for a second. „I, uhm, I was wondering, actually, if maybe-“

„Yes?“ „Would you like to get some dinner?“

„Yes, absolutely!“ She wrapped her arm around his elbow. „Provided we can find a place that isn't completely booked today.“

They strolled down the street towards the city centre. Percy was glad he hadn't seen the mysterious red skirt anywhere. Vex had already forgotten the rage against her messenger's non-arrival.

In a cafe across the street, Keyleth nervously slurped down the last of her milkshake, peeking out the large windows and trying to hide her bright red hair as best as she could.

„Do you think we did the right thing? That was a kinda mean trick.“

„Aaaah, no, Kiki.“ Vax grinned at her as he watched his sister turn the corner. „We did good. We did real good.“

„We're not, uh, telling them, though, right?“

„Fuck no. Never.“

If you think I did a good job writing this, and you have some copper to spare, consider buying me a coffee?

[blackbatpurplecat]

My Thoughts on Batman #14

By popular demand (which surprised me and now I feel honored <3 ), here’s a little review on the latest issue of the current Batman run, #14: Rooftops Part 1.

What’s the story?

After the arc I Am Suicide, we are finally back in Gotham and follow BatCat through the city. Both are the main characters and apart from three speech bubbles of Clock King, even the only characters that speak and act in a fairly simple narrative.

The mood’s pretty melancholic; Batman reveals that Catwoman’s death penalty has been revoked by the President, thanks to Amanda Waller. Even though we’ve never seen or heard of any evidence against Selina. All we have is her claiming to have killed almost 300 men and that’s apparently enough for a death sentence... Yeah. Sure. Ugh. Now Catwoman needs to go to Blackgate, I assume for theft, and Batman has to take her in that same night. You can feel the tearful goodbye hanging above them and their mutual feelings for each other don’t make it any easier. It’s simply what we’ve seen over and over: Batman is struggling with two sides. He knows what’s right (arrest the criminal) and he knows what he wants to do (let the woman he loves go free), and those two things cancel each other out. We know he will always pick the side of the law but that doesn’t mean it won’t hurt less.

Catwoman, also saddened by the turn of events, pretty much accepts her faith though. She knows what’s coming for her and tries to lighten the mood a little bit by making suggestive comments and initiating a lovely make out session beneath the stars. She states that she wants one more night, living and enjoying her freedom. 

They again bring up the mass murder committed by her. Bruce doesn’t believe that Selina killed almost 300 people and wants to prove her innocence, yet he doesn’t know how. Selina repeats that she did kill those guys and promises to give him the truth if he takes her to Blackgate in the morning instead of right then and there. While Bruce states he knows she’ll try to flee, Selina replies she knows he will come after her.

So since they’ve come to some kind of an understanding, Selina very obviously suggests making the monster with two backs to say goodbye. Well OF COURSE! A farewell fuck! Since we still have no idea why or for how long Selina has known Bruce’s identity, we don’t know if it’d be their first (and last) time or if they’ve done it before. If they’ve been having an on-off-relationship like over the last decades or only fucked like in The New52. We can take into account that we’ve seen Bruce talk fondly and intimately to her so it’s not only fucking. But since I don’t care for anything outside of this issue, I’ll go with my own assumption and say “first time.” Bitter-sweet would be an understatement.

But, alas, the Bat signal pops up in the sky and dutiful Batman reacts just like we’d ALL expect him to react - work now, have fun later! But this time, he invites Catwoman to come along.

We jump to a clocktower where Batman faces Clock King who rambles on like a Bond villain and gets knocked out by Catwoman who swings in from behind. Is their work done, can they finally bang? The Bat signal in the sky says NOPE! So they go from villain to villain, Batman kicks the shit out of a various number of Rogues, Catwoman stays in the background and asks if that’s how he spends all of his nights.

Eventually, Catwoman grows tired and frustrated with him constantly postponing their boning and finally wants to do what she wants to do - breaking & entering! And Batsy comes along. Reluctantly.

They break into an apartment where Bruce sees a stolen cat figurine floating in the middle of the room. “It’s hanging by a thread, too thin to see” - God knows why. Selina simply grabs the cat and tells Bruce to run. They jump out of the window before the apartment explodes. Oh, and the apartment also belongs to Selina who had rented it under the name Holly Robinson. Ehm... okay...? Dunno what to do with that info. But another, more important thing: was that her alarm system in case another thief broke in and stole the cat? She would just... blow them up???!!! The thread is too thin, not even she can work around it so in order to take the cat, you HAVE to pull it down and trigger the explosion. This trap was set up with the intension to kill! What the fuck, Selina?!

BatCat watch the burning building from a rooftop far away and we learn that Selina owns the floors above and below the apartment and the sprinklers are awesome and everyone there is safe - again WHAT THE FUCK??? NO! This is fucking dumb! And Selina’s apparently so damn rich that she can rent 3 whole floors high in a skyscraper in the middle of the city?! WHAT?! And after revealing that load of info, she shows us that there are diamonds inside the cat figurine, kind of like a piggy bank for bad times.

She wants Bruce to have the diamonds and tells him to build dozens of orphanages after she’s gone. Sure. Because BRUCE FUCKING WAYNE needs financial support... Okay, let’s say the diamonds are a donation. Okay, I can buy that.

And to conclude this issue, Selina throws the tiny diamonds on the ground, takes her mask off, they start making out and FINALLY FINALLY FINALLY HAVE  S E X!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Well, what did I think of all this?

I really liked the art. Sure, it’s not the best art I’ve ever seen but it looks good and it’s definitely better than what Guillem March did in the Catwoman run. BatCat look like real people, no extreme poses or overdone, dramatic movements. There are some not so pretty angles here and there and on the first page, Batman’s face looks like covered in dirt but in general, the art is quite decent! Especially in the last panels where it matters the most!

The first two and the last two pages are wonderful. Buy the issue for those four pages, they are SO worth it! Everything inbetween is filler. The BatCat teamwork is way too short and while Batsy roughing up some C-List Rogues looked funny, it wasn’t engaging or anything. If it was meant to prove a point, I didn’t need it. I know that his duty will always come first. But I can try and interpret something into it if you want me to: Bruce kept pushing the expected sex back more and more, the Bat signal was the ultimate cockblock in this issue. But at the very end, the Bat signal shines above them while they’re going at it cowgirl style and Bruce does not shove her away to grab cowl and cape. Maybe it’s supposed to show us that for once, something or someone was more important than the Mission. And it would be incredibly rude to leave in mid-coitus.

The BatCat sex scene is like a kiss to my soul. I’ve been wanting some decent love scenes of my ship for so SO SOOO LOOONG!!! Lois and Clark got so many good ones, there are some of Bruce and the Demon Spawn, hell, there’s even a (granted, awful) sex scene between Batman and Black Canary! Why has it taken decades for DC to release a decent BatCat sex scene??? It’s what we freaking deserve!!! And I want every single BatCat shipper to see it!!! We’ve been denied something magical for too long, not only Batsy and Kitten were frustrated with this lack of sexy times.

And it’s even not creepy or rapey or anything, no! It’s very tastefully drawn, it’s sensual and lovely and just beautiful! They even drew Bruce’s scars all over his body, nice attention to detail. BUT fucking on hundreds of tiny diamonds CAN’T BE COMFORTABLE!!! Imagine rolling around naked on Legos! Not so sexy, heh??? What if you get one up the crack? They are sharp and can cut your ass skin open!

Now, apart from the nonsense I’ve already mentioned, like the booby trap, Selina’s financial situations, the weird laws Gotham operates in, and the mass murder bullcrap, there is one thing that I absolutely detest in this issue: the dialogues! Holy fucking shit! Has King ever in his life talked to another human being? Or heard people have conversations?! The dialogues are awful! This is Nocenti level of awfulness in my opinion. Imagine if Frank “I’m an insane sexist racist asshole” Miller and Nocenti had a hate child and that hate child was writing dialogues. THAT is what King produces in this issue! He even recycles big chunks of those terrible lines! And don’t get me started on the fact that BatCat STILL call each other “Bat” and “Cat”. Ugh, that’s so fucking dumb. My God, honestly, try to skip the dialogues, guys. It’s what I had mentioned before; King tries to sound so deep and clever while he delivers a pile of bullshit.

Will I go back to this issue in the future? HELL YEAH!!! I would print the sex panels out and frame them and put them on my walls!!! The art thankfully saved the issue from becoming another generic DC fart. They could have easily screwed up the emotional scenes between BatCat but artist Mitch Gerads did a great job with the facial expressions, the close-ups, and the angles. You (thankfully) don’t need the bad lines to understand what’s happening between our leads. Just look at their faces and you’ll feel what they feel.

And I am SO thankful that we FUCKING FINALLY got a beautiful BatCat love scene! I hope there are many more to come in the future!

Part 2 got the teaser “The final farewell?” - I hope we will finally find out what the deal is with that stupid as fuck mass murder plot. It annoys the hell out of me that King keeps going back and forth “yes, she did it”, “no, she didn’t”, “but she clearly states she did it”, “but he doesn’t believe it”, “but she says it” etc etc. It doesn’t make the plot more exciting or interesting but frustrating and boring. Just like the “will-they-won’t-they” DC have been doing with BatCat for decades now.

The way they’re handling it at the moment, the next issue will probably reveal the biggest twist *gasp* that she did not kill almost 300 people! She only claimed it and willingly went to Arkham and wanted to be sentenced and put to death because................. ?????????????? And then she will flee and lay low. And we will be without our beloved Kitten again. And that was important to the plot HOW?!?!?! Who needed it??? Ugh, King really isn’t the best writer.

Tl;dr Batman #14 is THE issue for BatCat shippers!!! Just marvel at the panels and don’t read the dialogues.

[mrandmrsvex]

The Future I‘ve Chosen

Summary: A few months after defeating Vecna and living in peace, Vex feels it is time to carefully broach the topic of starting a family - Percy’s reaction is not what she expected, though. They’ll have to work through his fears together.

Additional Info: Angst, Emotional Talks, and just enough fluff towards the end to make it not-sad.

Note: This is literally the first story I’ve written in a decade. I’m happy about any comments or helpful criticism. (Please also mind that English isn’t my first language so there might be a few weird sentence structures or repetitions...)

Vex had already been waiting in their bedroom for well over an hour when she finally heard the familiar sound of the dressing room door next to the bedroom being opened and closed, as carefully as Percy could muster, probably assuming she was already asleep. His shifts in the workshop had become longer and longer, and despite Vex making an effort of visiting him – and dragging him off to bed at a reasonable time – as often as possible, there were still many evenings where he wouldn't come to bed until she was fast asleep, and where she left him alone early in the morning to sleep off the fatigue from a night of working.

She didn't mind, especially since she'd found out that he wasn't working on another weapon. Percy wasn't willing to tell much yet, still at the beginning of his plans, but the short description of his clocktower had already made Vex's eyes water. Their final victory over Vecna was many months ago, most of the world had already moved on pretty well in their reparations, yet she – and surely all of her Vox Machina family members – still felt a sting in their hearts thinking about it. To see it commemorated in such a beautiful way made her hopeful.

Again, Vex didn't mind her husband's long hours in the workshop that much – she was well aware what a big part of Percy his tinkering was. But lately, she' d felt the need to have him beside her in bed when she was drifting off to sleep, thinking about so much that a calming hand on her side would be helpful. And there was an urging topic, something she had to talk about with him, that never really fit into their normal conversations during meals or sitting in the reading room with Cassandra by their side.

She couldn't wait for a good moment any longer. Even if she caught him off-guard, it had to be tonight. Keyleth's innocent laughter from a conversation a few days ago was still ringing in her head. „Every time I see you now, I'm expecting you to hide a little bump.“ While the druid had certainly meant no harm, her remark stuck in the back of Vex's head like flypaper.

So when she heard Percy quietly pottering about next door, she jumped at the chance. Opening the door that connected bedroom to dressing room, she could see his workboots, his gloves, a charcoal and dust covered shirt on the floor before she could see him, shirtless and with his back to her, filling a small basin with water to get rid of even more charcoal down his arms.

Her eyes lingered on his back for a second. The dim light made the many little scars and nicks of their adventures almost dissappear, but her hands could remember feeling them even in the darkest of nights – stroking his back when he woke from yet another nightmare, holding on to him during nicer times in their bed. She got lost in thought, staring at him, until a quiet voice brought her back to reality.

---------------------------------

„Enjoying the view, my dear?“

She could hear the amusement before she could see his smile as he turned around. She hadn't thought of the mirror he was standing in front, giving him a perfect view of her huddled in the doorway, still holding onto the latch.

Vex cleared her throat, stepping into the room and picking up his discarded shirt, trying to act as nonchalant as possible.

„I was waiting for you to come to bed, but you were taking your sweet time.“

A few steps closer to him, putting the shirt in the laundry basket, she could feel his eyes follow her.

„Oh. I'm sorry, I was trying to figure out that one annoying hitch in the timing mechanism-“

„It's fine. You're earlier than usual, even.“

She touched his lower arm, still wet from his clean-up, and picked up a towel. Drying off his arms and hands – so warm, warmer than hers would ever be in the cold Whitestone evenings – she tried to find strength in her voice.

„It's just, I, I wanted to talk to you about something, and it didn't feel right bothering you while you work.“

„You're never bothering me. You know that.“ His voice was soft, his blue eyes still focussed on her face, but she couldn't match his gaze yet. „What did you want to talk about?“

„It's nothing important, don't worry.“ What a lie. It was the most important thing on her mind for weeks now.

She couldn't tell whether he was able to look through her pretense of being calm, or whether it was his natural response to worry about her the minute she became the least bit evasive, but his face tensed up nonetheless. Her hands soft on his chest, tracing one of the many scars there as well, seemed to ease him a bit.

„It was just... I mean...“ She took a short, yet deep breath, still staring at her hands instead of him. „It's been so wonderful here in Whitestone, with you. Since we came home, and things finally became... quiet. But...“

„But you don't do well with quiet.“ He was trying to give it a joking tone, but she could hear the worry underneath.

„No! I mean, that's not – I didn't mean -“ She sighed. „I'm happy with this. Living with you, as Lord and Lady de Rolo, in our own quiet home.“ Her hands trailed up, past his collarbones, up to his jaw and ears, holding his head as soft as she could and finally looking into his eyes. „I simply think we could be even happier if it weren't just us.“

It flew right over his head. As perceptive as Percy could be in a fighting situation or during dangerous trecks, in everyday life it was easy for him to not notice the bleeding obvious. It was almost endearing.

„I mean, Cassandra would surely love to spend more time with us. I know Pike and Scanlan are somewhat... busy, figuring out their situation, and Keyleth is still... maybe we could invite Kash and Zahra for a dinner-“

„No, silly.“ She couldn't help but stifle a quick laugh. „I didn't mean friends visiting. I meant family in the house.“

„Well, they are all family.“ He was very insistent on this.

„Oh, I know. But it's not the kind of family I'm thinking of.“

She could hear the gears working hard behind his forehead until it finally clicked.

„Oh.“ He mumbled, much more quiet than before, and Vex watched his eyes shift off to the side – suddenly he became the one who couldn't meet her eyes anymore. „You mean – you mean children.“ There was no emotion in his voice. She hadn't expected him to jump from joy, but this was... worse than the unease she'd prepared for. Her hands shifted back down from his face, resting on his shoulder, shaking ever so slightly.

„Did you... do you not want... I thought, a family, for you would be...“ She couldn't find the words. Neither could he, it seemed.

„It's not- not that I wouldn't- I mean-“ He sighed and turned to the side, fidgeting with something on the table. „This is a pretty big topic to start at this time of night.“

„I know.“ Vex's hands dropped, one hand nervously grasping the other's wrist. „I never could find the right moment for it.“

He was cleaning his glasses with the towel he'd picked up from the table, still turned away.

„We need to discuss this with a bit more clarity, I think. Not halfway to bed standing around in the dressing room.“

„I'm... sorry. Let's, let's just forget this and pick it up at a better time.“ She hadn't wanted to sound as sad as she did.

„No.“ His voice was almost stern as he put his glasses back on, but softened as soon as he turned back to her, standing there with her shoulders raised and hands shaking, like a little girl that had been scolded. „No, dear, we can talk about this. Let me just get finished here, and I'll join you in bed. Then we can talk.“

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It seemed like forever until the door finally opened, shining a soft light into the dark bedroom. It was certainly far longer than it would normally take for Percy to get ready for sleep. Long enough for Vex's nervosity to turn into anger at his stalling while she waited, bundled up in her duvet and twitching at every sound that could've been him finally coming in.

He was quiet, careful while slipping under the covers next to her.

„I'm not asleep yet, if that's what you were hoping for.“ Her stinging voice broke through the darkness and made him grind to a halt. She turned around to face him, still propped up on his elbow, and an ever-so-slight familiar scent came from his mouth as he nervously sighed.

„Did you really need Courage for this conversation?!“

„The Courage is long gone.“ He sighed again before letting himself fall onto his back. „And it was just a small glass, just a sip-“

„I gave you the option not to have this talk right now, Percy. You insisted on it.“

„I know.“ He was staring at the ceiling, despite obviously not seeing anything in the dark, and without his glasses. She was staring straight at him, her half-elven eyes giving a clear sight.

„Then talk.“

He couldn't, not for a while. Vex watched a whole gamut of emotions run over his face until he finally opened his mouth, his voice low and almost trembling.

„Can you imagine me, really, as any sort of parent? As a father?“

Any anger she'd had dissolved almost immediately. Instinctively, her hand reached out to him, landed on his chest and let her feel his racing heart.

„Oh, darling.“ She whispered. „Of course I can.“

„I can't.“ It sounded very matter-of-fact before it became nervous again. „I never imagined myself this far. I thought I'd be dead in my twenties, even earlier. The idea of a family seems so...“ He licked his lips, searching for the right word. „Unreal.“

„But it could be real now. You're still here, and so am I. We could have this, together.“

His hand grabbed hers, resting them both on his chest. His heart couldn't stop racing.

„I wouldn't want... for my... for any children we'd have... I wouldn't want the kind of childhood we had.“

„I'm pretty sure any people who'd try to harm our little family would have to deal with a whole lot from our extended family.“

„I'm not talking about something like the Briarwoods.“ He still couldn't say the name without poison in his voice, a deep breath before he continued. „I mean before that, even. You had your mother, and Vax always by your side even against your father's-...“ „Just as you had your parents, and all your siblings.“ She could see his grimace.

„It was different.“ Another deep breath, his heart slowly calming. „Im not saying there wasn't love, but... I told you we didn't touch in our family. We didn't do much at all, of anything.“ His face seemed young all of a sudden, young and innocent and scared. „I don't want my children to have that distant of a family.“

„They wouldn't have.“ She perched up now, her head above his, despite knowing he could barely see the shape of her face. „They would have a giant bear to cuddle and play with, and aunt Cassandra to teach them everything they want in the library. They'd have aunt Keyleth shapechange into funny forms, and plant a garden with them. They'd have aunt Pike for advice and any troubles of faith, and uncle Scanlan to sing them songs and plan pranks, and uncle Grog to sparr with if they become adventurous. And so many more, in Whitestone and Vasselheim and many other cities.“

„And a complete and utter human mess as a father shutting himself into his workshop whenever emotional trouble started brewing.“

Now it was her turn to sigh. Her free hand stroking his cheek, she leaned down to give him a soft kiss, whispering against his lips without pulling too far away. „Remember, my darling, that I've seen more of you than anyone else. I've seen you with the people you love. I know you're still healing, and learning, but 'passive' is not the way I'd describe you when it comes to love. Not anymore.“ He smirked, and she couldn't help but follow suit. „I don't mean that, dear. I mean... I've seen how you're connecting with your sister, now. I remember how tense you both were when I first tried to hug you, and how much you welcome it now.“

„You really think I could become a good father, after all this?“

She laid her head down beside him again, pulling the duvet up a bit to cover them both. „I think you will be a wonderful father, especially because of all this.“

Another short moment of tension in his face, but not nearly as strong as it had been during their hushed conversation in the darkness.

„What if I... don't love them. What if I can't.“

„Now you're just talking nonsense, darling.“ She gave him a quick peck on the cheek, smiling throughout. „We both know there's nothing I could ever do or make that you wouldn't love. And that includes any children I'd make.“ She felt a smile creeping across his face, pushing his cheek up against her lips once again.

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It had been quite a few minutes since they'd finished their emotional talk – Vex had been close to drifting off into sleep, the warmth of the duvet on top of her only being enhanced by the wonderful warmth of her husband next to her. His erratic and loud breath, however, told her clearly that he was still wide awake, mulling things over, planning and sorting as he so often would while waiting for sleep. His voice was yet again calm and soft as it broke through the silence.

„Percival Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo the Fourth.“

She couldn't keep herself from giggling before cuddling closer to him and whispering at his side.

„Freddy to his friends.“

Quiet. His arm shifted around her, pulling her even closer.

„I like that.“

„What if it were a girl?“

She could feel him absent-mindedly stroking her back, like he often did while ideas twirled through his head.

„I'd like that too.“

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