#and even helped Pit through various chapters

[summermp3]

"𝖨'𝗏𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗆𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝖿 𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇" (𝗆𝗈𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗇!𝖾𝖽𝖽𝗂𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗇𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗑 𝖿𝖾𝗆!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋)

→ in which you and Eddie become rivals after an illegal street race led to you breaking an arm and being locked up for a few months, what happens when he see's you again at one of the biggest races of his life?

Chapter two: DAY TWO

→ wordcount: 1.7k

→ warnings: Strong language, past childhood trauma, parental abuse, reader goes to prison for a little, reader crashes on her motorcycle, eventual smut, minors dni

→ Pairings: modern!streetracer!eddie x streetracer!fem!reader

lowkey boring chapter..

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At first, you wake up in a cold sweat. Your eyes dart around to get your eyes to focus on anything that will help ground you from the nightmare, they find a glowing red alarm clock the numbers read; 1:21am. The couch had begun to feel. not so comfortable throughout the night, but Eddie had offered you to stay with him regardless of knowing you for less than a few hours.

So you weren't about to complain.

You had tried getting to sleep again, but after tossing and turning and sighing after the way your back felt for about ten minutes. After a while, you just gave up on your rest and went to get a glass of water from the kitchen instead.

The floor creaked under the sudden pressure and at first, you thought it might've woke Eddie from his own sleep.

Fortunately, there were no signs of an awake Eddie Munson.

The tap water filled in for all the liquid you lost in the night, you now also realize that you could probably see through your shirt. Your feet carried you towards all the figurines on the shelves of the living room, various dungeons and dragons characters, and what you assumed was Lord of the Rings.

They were cute items, and as you picked one off the shelf you began to think how much he spent on an item like this.

"Put. that. down." His croaky voice had scared you so hard, you almost dropped his figure in your clammy hand.

"God...Edd—wait—do you have spidey senses or something, how did you know I was touching your shit." Slowly and carefully, you put his belongings down back on the shelf with all the others.

“My hands start tingling when people touch my stuff." He joked, only then did you take in his appearance.

Curly brown hair in a ponytail, baggy pants, and a tank top that was much too short...it showed a lot to the imagination.

You turn away.

"Couch isn't all that comfortable is it." Was he a mind reader or something? "I've spent a few nights there" he adds.

"It's better than what I'm used to lately, I'm really not in a position to complain." You reassured, turning back around to face him.

"Now...why are your clothes wet?" He rubs his eyes in case he's seeing what isn't there, however...

Your shirt was indeed showing more than you thought earlier, now your chest was almost on full display. "Sweat, it's kinda hot in here." You lie, crossing your arms over your chest to hide your breasts from showing even more. "It's lukewarm at most." He argues, pulling up his arms to show zero pit stains on his body.

"Maybe I have overreacting sweat glands."

"I love how you have excuses for everything, really makes these interactions between us more enjoyable." Eddie walks past, ever so slightly accidentally brushing his hand against yours as he shimmers past the small space to get behind you to the kitchen "I don't have excuses, just...it's...difficult." You sigh, sitting back on the uncomfortable couch.

"I figured that, by the way, you haven't told me anything about you. I took an estranged woman home after meeting her at a bar...For all I know, you might kill me." He grins, taking a cigarette off the marble kitchen counter.

"Mhm, very possible. I'd watch out if I were you. I'm known for being very 'dangerous'" You smile using your fingers for quotation marks.

Ring

Ring

Ring

"That must be your phone." He yawns, pointing to where your phone sat on the coffee table screen down, meaning neither of you had any way of knowing who exactly was calling.

Regardless of how long it rang, you ignored it.

"Avoiding someone?" He sits down next to you on the couch, leaning back on the couch pillows opposite you. "I avoid someone? That doesn't sound like me at all! I'm just talking to my new best friend Eddie...right?" He stares ahead into your eyes.

"Best friend hm? Here I was thinking I actually meant something to you." He passes you the freshly lit cigarette as he goes to open a window nearby. "Oh yeah, you mean everything to me. I love it when they've known me for less than 24 hours, it really gets me going" you joke, speaking seductively.

"Good to know" he smiles and you swear you see his tongue hiding behind his teeth "Now don't kill me, but I do actually have a spare bedroom" Your eyes widen. "You have a spare room and you let me sleep on your dumbass uncomfy couch?!" You yell, Eddie immediately 'shhhhing' you as your voice rises.

“I thought you said you weren’t going to complain?” Eddie tilts his head to the side, raising his eyebrows.

“That was until I knew you had a spare bedroom!”

"Old people live in this apartment building Toots!" He covers your mouth with the palm of his hand, you notice his ringed hand fits perfectly around your face…he listens for any indication of his neighbors waking up.

Although there is nothing.

"Are you trying to get me evicted? Then neither of us have a place to stay." Whispering, he removes his hand and points towards the hallway, indicating he wants you to follow him towards the corridor.

The carpet in the hallway and the wood in the living room are rough on the bottoms of your bare feet, but you’re willing to go through it to have a place to stay and a now…comfy bed.

Eddie stops outside of a doorway opposite his own bedroom, he twists open the door knob. Waiting for you to enter first then flicking on the lights.

“God that bed looks so comfortable Eddie, I'll never forgive you." You mutter under your breath. At first, you thought he hadn’t heard you but you knew he had when you by the sigh he let out shortly after. "I hadn't expected you to actually fall asleep on it." Eddie flicks the light switch so you're both surrounded by the dark.

"Time for bed...for real this time, sweetheart."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say" you fall onto the bed, sighing in actual pleasure of the linen sheets and pillows.

"Goodnight.." he expected to get a short and sweet, 'goodnight' from you, but when he turned around to inspect why you hadn’t.

He’d seen you had already fallen asleep, star-fished on the bed filled with white clean blankets.

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

Voices. voices were originally what had woken you, however, the exhaustion of last night drifted you back to sleep fairly quickly, and only woke up when Eddie had thrown something at your sleeping figure.

"Wake up idiot" a hard object connects with your clothed body underneath the blanket covers. "God it's like seven AM!" You groan.

"It's twelve PM—also, you missed breakfast." He states, walking out of the room. Upon inspecting what was thrown at you, your hand directly matched Eddie's motorcycle helmet.

Gathering on your clothes, you walk down the hall to meet Eddie who seemed to be packing away items from the coffee table. "What is this for?" You ask holding up the motorcycle helmet, and then your eyes immediately connect to the kitchen coffee machine. "That is for a motorcycle." He says bluntly, fixing items on his shelf.

"No shit, why did you throw it at me?"

"You're coming with me today; I don't trust you in my house alone." The whirring of the coffee machine drowns out everything else Eddie says. "Sweetheart?" He lightly grabs your shoulder. "I heard you, just thinking," you reassure.

You bring the cup of coffee to your lips and close your eyes in pleasure. "I already have a house...I'll be out of your hair in a few minutes." Holding the mug, you turn to face Eddie, whose expression is unreadable.

"And before you say anything, I'm taking myself. I have stuff to do first...anyway." He slowly nods as you speak. "But thank you for letting me stay last night, seriously I appreciate it more than you will ever know" You stroke Eddie's arm lightly.

"Of course, come back anytime you need a place to crash."

"I'll see you around?" You ask

"Maybe dead in a river somewhere." He adds

You both smile as you walk out the door.

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

It hadn't been a far work, around an hour or so.

The house looked the exact same as it had six months ago when you left it, although the grass and flowers were overgrown. It was still home.

Nothing had been locked and the windows had been open the whole time, walking in absolutely nothing had changed and you weren't sure if you would've preferred it had.

Really the only thing that had changed.

Was you.

The electricity and water were still on, meaning somebody must've been paying the bills that wasn't you. The nerves were surging through you, eyes flicking in confusion when the garage door was open at the end of the hall.

Slowly pushing the door open, your eyes widened and your breath caught in your throat.

Your bike?

You were sure it had been impounded months ago by the police, so why was it here and why did it look like someone had been tending to it. Just when you were about to reach out and touch it, almost convinced this was all a dream.

Your pocket vibrated.  

Eddie: make it 'home' safe?

You: yeah I made it to the brothel alright, few cuts on my feet...no biggie.

Eddie: send pics

You: of the brothel?

Eddie: I was thinking your feet actually.

You: "Mr foot-fetish Munson"

Eddie: Mr foot-fetish Munson was my father, please call me Jr foot-fetish Munson.

You: apologies.

Eddie: stay safe ㅤ♡

You hearted Eddies Message

The rest of the night was spent cleaning the house, not that it was messy but just old.

And by the time it was seven pm, your phone vibrated again.

Robin: Party tomorrow...you better show up!

You: I'll try make an appearance.

Having friends was for sure going to kill you.

TAGLIST: @mykuup

[bluey0petal]

MORTALITY || CHAPTER 1

Masterlist

Pairings : Genshin various x Fem!reader

Synopsis : Clearing up a few misunderstandings and explaining some of the ropes of their new reality— you somehow manage to score your dream, with the new trio deeming your apartment as their new stationary home.

Word count : 6900+

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

How did you get here exactly? You— weren't quite sure. Whether it was the shock that had blurred your memories, or the sheer whiplash of it all, either way, how you ended up with three fictional characters sitting on your couch, all experiencing their own forms of existential crisis' was faded.

You stood across the coffee table from the trio, plate in hand and standing while you ate your dinner, SpongeBob playing in the background. It was kind of awkward, and nobody spoke as they all seemed to be in the midst of processing your information.

It wasn't exactly easy to go from 'HOW DID YOU GET INTO MY HOUSE?'—to—'Okay so... you just became physically real', but you'd done it. You'd somehow successfully explained to them, with their own help, that they'd just entered the physical realm. The realm of existence.

It had started with disbelief, distrust, and most of all, quite a bit of arguing— that may or may not lead to you getting a knock from your landlord about a noise complaint, but either way, you couldn't care in the moment, not when you yourself were still recovering from the shock of it all.

Aether, Albedo and Paimon— as you'd confirmed, it was all three of them. All of them now sat on your couch, real, tangible, physical. Not just pixels any longer, but real people with real skin, with real blood pumping through their veins. If you weren't absolutely wrecked right now you might've started fangirling on the spot.

They were here, and you'd come to realise this wasn't a hallucination, but a real event that was happening. Maybe there was a god above, seeing as you'd begged the sky for them to descend, and here they had. While awkwardly, they were still here, in your reality. In your house.

Though, they didn't seem to be having the same joy you did, though it was kind of understandable. You had kind of dropped the whole 'you're not real bomb' on them right off the bat. Hey— it was an accident! You hadn't meant to, you'd kind of just been arguing and screamed that they weren't even supposed to exist.

From there, you were interrogated further and forced to explain the concept of Genshin Impact. They listened intently, and now they thought deeply, maybe a bit too deep as the only sounds filling the tense atmosphere was Sandy talking on the screen behind you.

"So... if Paimon is correct, Paimon isn't real?" Paimon finally looked up, her eyes wide and confused as she reaffirmed what you'd just explained. You stopped your eating, finishing your chewing before placing your fork down, making sure the noise was soft as you prepared to answer her question.

To be truthful, you didn't know the answer to that either, but you'd assumed that they were real, seeing as they were here now.

"Well— no? You're... real, now, at-least," you cringed inwardly at your own choice of words, hoping that your horribly pieced together answer would make some kind of tangible sense instead of making you sound like a complete idiot in their eyes.

They must be having one hell of an existential crisis. You could relate.

Fictional characters had just been spewed into your apartment, and this could either be a dream come true, or a nightmare waiting to happen. On one hand, magic one possible, and you had a chance—a very slim one—of perhaps scoring some in the bag. On the other hand, you could be falling into a pit of chaos you were never meant to touch.

Fun.

Actually— it's best not to think about that right now. Just... focus on the fact that they're real right now.

"But... does that mean— we weren't real before?" Paimon continued, one of her hands coming to press the heel of her palm against her forehead, the touch being slightly strange for the pixie who'd never felt such a strong physical sensation.

"I'd assume we were," Albedo spoke up, his words stemming from a place of comfort and or factual correction. "We would have never been able to transport to this reality if we didn't have some sort of tangible substance. Not to forget, everything we saw and felt back in Teyvat was real— it's just apparently dulled compared to this world."

"...Paimon doesn't understand."

"I think he's uh— trying to say that if you weren't real, you'd never be here in the first place," you coughed awkwardly, hoping your summed up and simplified clarification would prove to be of some use, though, you yourself weren't confounded by Albedo's explanation.

The alchemist was indeed complex in his ways, his intelligence proving even a little too much for you to fully comprehend in the moment.

"Oh... well that makes Paimon feel slightly better. But— Paimon is still really uncomfortable! She's never felt all these things! She can feel something thudding inside of her, and in her throat, and Paimon really doesn't like being able to feel her clothes!" Paimon just seemed to have more and more to unravel the more she spiraled, making gestures than went alongside her words.

She gestured to her chest as she mentioned the thudding, then to her throat as he mentioned the sensation and then down to her clothes once she spoke about the texture being too much. Ah... your eyes went slightly wide in realisation.

"Ohhh... you guys probably didn't have proper senses back there—" your mouth formed itself into the shape of an 'o', a striking sense of reality hitting you as it clicked within your brain what Paimon meant.

You had a hunch that back in Teyvat, a world that apparently existed—save it for later—and was in the form of anime, just like the game, didn't have proper physics. Which you assumed the most sense the characters had was sight and hearing, and the rest were just phantom feelings that never really occurred.

So... was it safe to say they'd likely never felt any kind of touch before? As in—any? Paimon was probably overstimulated, which would be why she's constantly tugging at her clothes as if the rugged texture of her one-piece bean suit is uncomfortably rubbing against her.

Now that you thought about it, their in-game outfits wouldn't be the most practical thing in real life. While in the animeesque world, they wouldn't have minded much, your theory of the lack of physics coming into play again, in real life, their outfits wouldn't be rather uncomfortable to wear.

You couldn't imagine wearing all that gold, and while you'd clearly seen the muscles developed on Aether, which you could assumed Albedo held as well, that wouldn't mean the sensation of weight was any less foreign to either of them.

"Huh?" Aether raised an eyebrow in confusion.

You blinked, shaking your head to bring yourself back to the current scenario.

"Sorry, uhm. I think that back in uh— your world," that still felt so weird to mention. "Physics didn't exactly... work, but here, they do. Hence uhhh, your realistic bodies. That means you have a proper sense of touch now, nerves. So, that thudding inside your chest is your heartbeat," you felt both smart and stupid at the same time.

Having some sense of knowledge over the group gave you a sense of pride, but the worry that you were absolutely failing at explaining a situation you also knew nada about gave you a foreboding feeling of disappointment and shame. What if what you were telling them was a complete joke?

No— if you weren't going to have faith in yourself, at least have faith in what you were taught way back in ninth grade science.

They all began to pay attention now, with Aether even bringing a hand up to press at his chest, his face once again twitching at the feeling of a faint pounding behind the clothing and skin of his chest.

"It's more noticeable at certain points, so if you extend your wrist," you extended your own, gesturing for the three to do the same, and they followed, curious to hear the end of your explanation.

"And then you press here, you'll notice your veins poking out, and if you touch them, you can feel your heartbeat a lot better," you pressed to the veins in your wrist, feeling your own heartbeat as again the others mimicked your movements like clones.

Albedo reacted with intrigue and fascination, his eyes examining the skin of his wrist—which was covered by gloves—carefully, as if his own body were his next experiment. Obviously, heartbeats weren't something they'd felt this obviously before.

Paimon seemed more surprised than the rest, her head tilting as she felt her very own pulse, like listening to a radio playing the best of her own life. Again, the experience was likely unusual and something they'd never experienced before.

Aether more so responded with more confusion, his eyebrows pinching downwards as he tried to feel around his wrist, searching for the vein. You watched him for a moment, his struggle obvious and blaring for you to awkwardly watch.

"I can't feel anything," Aether finally admitted, turning his wrist over as if checking the other side might yield better results. You sighed, placing your empty dinner plate onto the table and stepping around the small table to Aether, gentle grasping his hand.

"Probably because you have gloves on," you pointed out, holding his own hand up to his face to show him. He still remained dumbfounded. Gods— this was like trying to teach aliens how to exist. ... wait a minute.

"Uh, then how am I meant to feel it?" He seemed genuinely confused, and you wondered just how much of the game's physics applied to them. Did they seriously never change clothes? Ever? As in— not even gloves? Hair pieces? Shoes...?

Swallowing, you pulled his glove off for him, chucking it into his lap. Aether jumped in surprise, head snapping to watch the glove you'd just taken off of his hand. You could hear Paimon gasp from the left of the two of you.

"AHH! You took his glove off! You can do that here!?" Again, genuine surprise resonated off of them, and you could see Albedo leaning over to peer over Paimon and see the scene with his own eyes. You pressed your lips down awkwardly.

"Uh... yeah? Okay— never mind, try again," you shook your head, shrugging off the impending spiral that desperately wanted you to go down it. Instead, you focused back on Aether, gesturing for him to find his pulse again.

He softly nodded, removing his other glove carefully, the fabric laid in his lap, and with free hands he reached back for his pulse, his eyes widening as he felt the dull thud of his heartbeat pulsating in his wrist.

You wondered what it was like to suddenly gain the sense of touch. What would it have been like for them without it? How did they feel pain? Did they not? Or— did they simply react that way when injured for plot purposes? Did plot purposes now exist? What the hell is even going on right now?

"I must admit, while this is quite fascinating— and I would be eager to conduct more studies right now, is our main priority not to return back to Teyvat?" Albedo questioned, grasping the attention of the group gently with his soft yet stern words.

You pursed your lips. As much as this was amazing, he was kind of right, should their main goal not be to get home? What does their absence do to Teyvat? Will it have any effects on their world? What will you do after this? How are you going to keep living knowing the possibility of your favourite characters spawning into existence is truly possible?

"Yeah... Paimon almost forgot about that. How are we going to get back anyway?" The question seemed to be something without an answer, and all of them joined the pondering process, even you. You too were thinking about ways for them to get home, but there was a slight problem.

"I'm not quite sure, but my initial impression would be that the cube has a counterpart in this world. It would make sense, no? That would be how it has established a connection here?" Albedo's theorising was good, but you unfortunately had to shut the alchemist down on that idea.

"Yeah— uh, no. Number one, magic doesn't really exist here... so, I don't think a magic cube would exist... and uh, number two—" you paused, swallowing your cringe. "This world is kinda ginormous, as in, thousands of times bigger than Teyvat, meaning, searching for that cube would be impossible," you concluded, watching as Albedo fell back into thought.

"Then, how do we get back?" Paimon tilted her head. You shrugged.

"You said magic doesn't exist? I assume you mean elemental energy," Albedo glanced back to you. "Yeah," you nodded, expecting another theory— but instead his eyes, which were already a glazed shade of blue, had a strange sort of glimmer appear in them.

Your eyebrows raised as Albedo seemed to look around in contemplation, his eyebrows furrowing in the silence. Finally, the glimmer disappeared and he crossed his arms over his chest. "You're right, there's not a single trace of elemental energy aside from us three," Albedo sighed, his expression seeming more tense.

"So that means we're stuck!? AHHHH!! Paimon can't take this!!" Paimon squealed.

You winced at her loud tone, already feeling the impending knock that might wake you up tomorrow morning with a note about a noise complaint being gifted to you like a sacred scrawl.

"What do we do then?" Aether looked between Albedo and Paimon with worry in his gaze, clearly upset about the revelation that they couldn't return back to Teyvat, leaving them stuck here.

"I'm unsure..." Albedo sighed, shoulders dropping. They three were thinking, all trying to come up with some plot that would lead them back to their own world, but your instincts had a better idea.

"You can stay here!" You blurted, and the regret following chased after you violently.

Why did you say that? Oh gods— they couldn't stay here. You didn't have the room... or money, or anything really. Not to mention, it was kind of weird for you to offer them housing since you'd literally just met them. Though, you didn't exactly back down from your decision despite your second thoughts.

"At my place, I mean— just, until you guys find a way back to Teyvat," you clarified awkwardly, watching as the three of them all exchanged glances between each other. They were thinking, sharing acceptance and or rejection through a mere glint of their gaze.

"..."

"It wouldn't be the worst option, I would like to learn more about this world," Albedo chimed, folding his arms diligently over his chest.

Paimon and Aether listened to his words, carefully considering their options.

"Paimon doesn't know... she feels icky here— but... if we can't get home, we could stay here," she hummed, tilting her head.

Finally, Aether was the last one to add his opinion, all eyes turning to him. He seemed more conflicted, less accepting of staying in this world. It didn't seem like an option he was willing to go along with easily, and that was surprising considering he was the one who quite literally used to world-hop.

"Until we find a way home," he finally stated firmly, and with that, all votes were in.

"Very well then, we'll stay here until we find out a way back to Teyvat," Albedo hummed, and you could've sworn a spark flickered in your heart. Did you hear that right? They actually agreed to it—? They. They agreed.

You had Albedo, Aether and Paimon in your apartment. They were going to live with you. Oh gods once you got to your room you were going to collapse into your bed and squeal. This is the best hallucination to ever be conjured in existence.

"That's great! Sorry— great, okay Uhm... it's uh, kind of late right now... so uh, you guys might want to get to sleep. I'll set you up some blankets... Albedo and Aether, I think I can get you guys some clothes of mine to wear just to... get out of those, but I don't think I have anything for you Paimon," you stopped to breathe.

"Uh... then tomorrow, tomorrow— I can explain more to you guys tomorrow, and I'll show you the 'video game' I talked about earlier," you finished with a stern nod, earning one in reciprocation from all of them.

The plan was set then, and you wasted no time in getting to work on setting up a space for them.

You raced around your apartment, shoving your plate in the sink and switching off your TV— then running to your own room to take some blankets and pillows from your bed, bringing them out to the main room where the three stood. Each of them got a pillow, Aether and Paimon were sharing a blanket while Albedo got his own.

"Wow! This is so soft," Paimon cooed at the blanket, bringing the fabric up to press it against her face. "Paimon never wants to let go."

Next— uh, next. Clothes. Right! You sped back into your room, rifling through drawers and tossing shirts over one another. You found two shirts that would likely fit the two men, and then you had to check for pants. Sadly, all you found was tracksuit pants, so they'd have to deal with it for now.

Anywho, you tossed the two the clothes and let them use the bathroom to change. For Albedo, it took him around half an hour to simply just change his clothes. You assumed getting off all those accessories weren't easy, and when he stepped back out, he was wearing a black shirt with the words 'DIVA' on them. You had to suppress a giggle.

Next was Aether, and again he took an insanely long time to swap his clothes, but luckily, he didn't get what you deemed an embarrassing t-shirt, instead he got a plain light blue shirt, one that made him look strangely soft.

They both thanked you for the spare change of clothes, and for their old ones— you decided to just place them on the coffee table for now. You didn't really have anywhere to put them, so they'd just have to sit there for now.

Finally, everything had settled, yet an unreal air still lingered above.

Staring at the others sitting on the floor of your living room, you bid them a quick goodnight as you shut off the light. You left to your bedroom, shutting the door behind you and simply standing still when it fully closed.

You stayed standing in place for seconds, silent, unmoving— and then you smiled. You grinned as if you'd just been gifted a million dollars, and maybe you had been gifted just that. This— was the most unexpected, yet best day ever in your life. You had to declare it now.

Glancing down to your phone in your hand, you stared at the screen, noting the time. 10:38.

God... it was a little late— you should really get to bed, but first, you had a quick message to send.

─────

HARLEY RACHELS

Can you do a 7am - 3pm tomorrow?

Yeah, I can.

Thanks.

─────

You stared at the message you'd initially responded to this morning, eyes noting the time and date. You couldn't do that anymore. Not after what had just happened.

─────

HARLEY RACHELS

Can you do a 7am - 3pm tomorrow?

Yeah, I can.

Thanks.

Hey, sorry, something came up and I'm not available for that shift anymore.

─────

Done. With that, you walked over to you beside table, grasping the cord of your charger and plugging it into your phone. Your phone dinged as the charging symbol came up, lighting up green. Then, you placed it down with a soft thud.

You shifted softly as you tucked yourself under your sheets, grasping at the fabric of your doona. This felt real, and if you woke up tomorrow, and they were still there, you were going to start kissing the earth in forgiveness.

For once in your life, you weren't woken up by the absurdly annoying sound of your alarm beeping, screaming at you to awaken, instead you awoke naturally, sunlight streaming through your open window onto your face, and blankets wrapped tightly around your entire body.

You grumbled, eyes blinking open and registering your room. It seemed... normal. No sign of anything weird. You shot up immediately, eyes wide as you flipped the sheets right off of your own body.

The door to your room was slammed open by yourself, and you stood in the doorway with messy hair— frizzy and puffed, and clothing fit for a homeless person. Your eyes lingered on the floor of your living room, and you almost choked in surprise when three people still sat asleep on your floor.

"Holy shit..." you wheezed.

They were real. It wasn't just a dream— an insanely good one, they were actually here. You could feel your heartbeat speed up at the revelation. With more clarification, you could finally see the magic before you, the magic that shouldn't be possible. The magic of their existence.

They glimmered, and as the light from your bedroom slowly poured into the living room, you observed each of their faces delicately, now fully awake. Albedo— the actual Albedo, same hairstyle and everything, just in the clothes you'd gifted him, slept asleep on the floor. He was actually quite funny in the way he positioned himself, still, like a mummy in a coffin. It was comedic.

Aether though, oh lord... he was pretty, insanely so. Blonde hair ruffled from where he slept on the couch, a mouth half open and eyes shut tight, still heavily asleep. His braid had escaped its prison in the blanket, and boy was it lengthy— it cascaded off the side of Aether, falling all the way down the side of the couch to where the end touches the floor.

You'd never quite seen someone so majestic, and perhaps if Aether had been born onto Earth, he'd be a super model, because boy you'd never seen someone so stunning.

Never mind. You shook your head to regain your focus, eyes shifting to the much smaller Paimon tucked by his side. She was also fast asleep, drool falling down her chin and hair completely in frizzles. Her outfit was still the one she wore from Teyvat, but that made her look all the more adorable.

She was about the size of a toddler, she looked like one too, and her small hand was clutched around Aether's pinkie finger. The sight tugged at your heart strings. Being able to see these companions in real life was like a gift, truly— and holy hell did you have a lot to do.

Right... uh, you'd promised them you'd explain the whole video game life concept, but that could wait until later... you had to get yourself situated and cook breakfast. Did you make some for them too? Would they even like whatever you made? Could they even eat? Probably. Welp, there's only one way to find out.

Retreating back to your room, you shut the door carefully, hand steadying the handle as you carefully shut it closed. It took a bit of wincing and flinches every time the door groaned, but you did it, and the door fully shut close with a click. You sighed in relief and then turned back to your room.

Swiftly walking over to your clothing drawers, you took your shirt off at the same time, discarding the pyjamas over onto your messy bed and dragging a draw open, revealing a whole pile of chaotic organisation that was singularly made of shirts. Okay... what would be appropriate for today? Uhm, Y'know what, a plain shirt will do.

You fished out just a random shirt that wasn't anything too fancy, pulling it onto yourself swiftly and relaxing at the feeling of comfort it brought. Next, you repeated the same step with your pants, choosing a standard pair of denim shorts that felt uncharacteristically soft for the material they were supposedly made up of.

Finally in fresher clothes, you stepped back out into the living room, making sure to remain just as careful as you had been before. You still didn't want to wake the sleeping three, and you softly crept your way over to the bathroom opposite the kitchen, stealthily shuffling your way inside of the room.

It was dark when you first put yourself in there, but you felt the wall up for the light switch and flicked it when you found it. The light buzzed on, a bright, blinding white that never failed to flash bang you in the mornings. You grunted in annoyance, temporarily disoriented—but you quickly recovered.

Turning to face the mirror, you stared at yourself in the reflection, eyes blinking at the sight of yourself. Your hair was a total mess, the definition of a bedhead.

"Holy fuck... I look like shit," you murmured, your own words doing no better to comfort yourself as you fished for your hairbrush, picking up the item, only to drag itself bristles through your hair. The first few tugs hurt, pulling at your already mucked up hair roughly— but it didn't last long as soon all the knots dissipated.

You sighed as your hair was knot free but frowned once you saw your frizzed up reflection. What a beautiful after look. You bitterly thought, the internal words hanging heavy on your tongue.

Sighing, you reached for a hair tie, knowing the only way to save this mess without going into a full routine would be to pull it back and out of your face.

Loosely, you tied your hair back, all the while grumbling to yourself about the annoyance your hair caused you. It was a frizzed mess most days, and it frankly didn't make you feel any better when you woke up with eye-bags the size of craters hanging beneath your eyes.

Adjusting your hair slightly, you settled on a decent style that framed your face just right before exiting the bathroom.

You almost jumped when the face that greeted you was non other than Albedo, standing in all his messy haired glory yet wide awake, hauntingly blue eyes. He blinked at you, and you blinked back, eyes flickering to the star mark on his neck before glancing back to his face.

"Good morning," he greeted first, tone just as careful as it had always been and face monotone just the same. His voice was clear, not even groggy— perhaps that was a by product of him not being fully human.

Ugh, it felt kind of weird digesting that, like— life almost didn't feel real right now. How were you supposed to comprehend that Albedo himself was standing in front of you? Completely real and tangible? It just didn't seem possible, frankly, but you had to digest the idea anyway seeing as it was quite literally happening.

"Morning," you greeted back with a soft, subtly strained smile, your eye bags crinkling with the movement. His eyes flickered all over your face, and you felt strangely unsettled as he observed your features. It was almost as if he were dissecting you, taking apart your features and wondering what lay beneath.

"Are you ready to show the game you mentioned?"

Oh— oh. Straightforward as shown in game, Albedo hadn't seemed to of changed at all. Though, you didn't know him personally, you'd done plenty of digging into his lore, especially with the recent showcase of the four shades.

Yeah, Genshin just casually dropped a massive lore bomb on a Tuesday. Normal things.

"Oh, yeah— but can I make breakfast first? I was planning on cooking something for you guys," you pointed over to the kitchen, watching as his head turned to glance when you directed.

He went silent in contemplation, eyes observing the counter tops before looking back to you.

"Alright, I will wait," Albedo nodded, smiling gently before turning and walking back to the blanket he'd left on the floor, sitting himself back down onto it patiently.

Weird.

You watched after him, eyes trailing after him before you turned away, flicking off the bathroom light behind you and closing the door. You walked back over to your room, stepping back inside and trailing back over to your bed.

You reached for your phone which you'd left on the bedside table—having forgotten it—grasping it and pulling it into your grasp. Your thumb tapped the screen, and it lit up, the time being displayed in large bold letters at the very top of it all.

8:47.

If you'd accepted that shift, you would have been awake hours ago— and in shift right now. God, you cringed just thinking about it. Brushing off the thought, unwilling to continue thinking of work, you flipped through your home screen, diligently scrolling through apps and finding the one you particularly were searching for.

Your bank account.

You pressed the familiar icon, letting the screen of the passcode light up— only to be disrupted by the facial registration. It scanned you with the camera, then with a click the app opened for you, letting you inside the app right away.

Straight up, your eyes flickered to the top where your main account lay, the balance number sitting just below the name.

$568.

You deflated at that number, grumbling to yourself. You'd already paid rent for the week— but you'd have to go grocery shopping soon, and not to mention you likely needed clothes for the newly acquired acquaintances in your house.

Why did you agree to housing them?

You thought that the moment you offered, but there wasn't really any going back now— and it's not as if you truly wanted to reverse your decision, you just didn't know if you'd hold up well with them under your roof.

Whatever... you'd deal with it. That was a problem for future you.

Shutting your phone off with the click of a side button, you stuff it into the shallow pocket of your pants, turning and walking back out into the living room. Albedo was watching you from the floor, observing your actions, the way you moved— likely curious.

You raised an eyebrow, shutting your bedroom door behind you.

"Could you perhaps show me how this device works?" Albedo gestured to the TV, his words careful.

You glanced at the TV, both eyebrows raising in surprise. Albedo wanted to watch the TV—? No, he was probably just curious what it is, as you would be.

"Uh, yeah sure," you nodded, walking past the coffee table where the clothes and the remote lay. You swiped the remote from its spot on the floor before circling around to Albedo, crouching down to where he sat, his posture unnaturally perfect.

"Okay so this button, the red one," you pointed to the button in the very top left corner— one of the only buttons with colour. "This turns it on," as if to demonstrate, you pressed the button and the TV snapped on, instantly being on a news channel, the volume decently low.

Albedo watched with wonder, a calculating gaze behind his eyes.

"And if you want to watch something else, just press either of these to scroll through," you then pointed to two arrow buttons, one pointing up and the other pointing down, your show of location was then followed by another demonstration.

You flicked over channels, scrambling through them with uninterested eyes before you landed on one channel. National Geographic. Albedo would like that— right? Maybe, you didn't really know.

"Here," you handed Albedo the remote, his eyes still gleaming with interest as he transferred his gaze between the TV and the remote, eyes occasionally glancing to the cheetah being displayed.

"How does it work? Is it perhaps a receptor or a resonator?" Albedo turned the remote over in his hands, already observing every detail about the remote you'd given to him.

You pressed your lips down, internally screaming at your lack of knowledge on technology and the mechanisms behind it. "Uh... I don't know much, but the basic idea is that wires inside are connected to the buttons— and when the buttons are pressed they send an electrical signal to the TV which tells the TV what to do," yeah you were sure none of that was true, but whatever.

"That why if you point the remote away and press a button, nothing will happen," following your words, Albedo tilted the remote, pressing a button and watching for the TV's reaction. True to your words, nothing happened. He seemed even more fascinated now.

"Interesting, it appears to be a more complicated replica of those Fontanian kameras," Albedo hummed, again turning the remote over in his grip.

"I think I might try and create my own version— could electro be used as a substitute I wonder?" And with that, you were leaving. You were not getting stuck into answering questions you didn't have the answer to, Albedo could flick through the channels and entertain himself all he wanted, you had other things to do.

Oh wait... is this how parents of iPad kids feel? Suddenly you resonated with them.

Shaking your head, you stepped into the small kitchen area, walking to your fridge at the end. It lay in wait, and you pried the door open, being welcomed by ingredients instead of fully made ready to go meals. Just your luck that you hadn't prepared anything.

Sighing, you reached inside and pulled out a carton of eggs, a carton you'd yet to touch, and was about to expire. You should probably use them. With it— you pulled out a small jar of cream that was half-full, waiting to be used for another batch of eggs.

Okay... four eggs per people, a dozen eggs in the carton... uh, uh oh. Shit... okay Uhm, you could just eat something else.

Your own stomach growled in hunger at the thought of skipping breakfast, but you shut it up by grabbing a bowl from the below cabinets, the ceramic clinking against your faux marble counter tops.

Right. Time to get making some eggs.

You'd done this plenty of times, and the steps were practically engrained in your mind. Crack all the eggs into a bowl, which happened to be an extra-large one considering the quantity of eggs, and then pour the right amount of cream in, which also happened to be all the cream you had left.

Feeding four people—no, three, was hard. How did your mother ever do it...?

Whisking came naturally, and your hand moved with the skill of a home-taught chef as you diligently shuffled the ingredients together, combining them into one mix. Clear egg whites with yellow yolks transformed into a frothy yellow mix, and by the time it was ready you'd already set up a pan on your stove.

The gas stove crackled on with the turn of your hand, pressing against the knob, and the flames sparked beneath the pan, blue flames flickering through the stand the pan sat atop. You poured the eggs into the pan, being careful not to spill any, and you were so focused you didn't notice when Albedo stood up and walked over to watch you work.

Again, he stared at everything with this strange glance, one that told he was analysing everything he could. The stove? He was wondering how it worked, determining just what ingredients could be combined together to make fire— though the faint whiff of gas in the air gave it away.

A spatula was your tool to slowly form the eggs into a scrambled texture, with your constant folding and chopping shaping the once liquid into a proper fluffy cloud like object. Albedo still watched, and he remained silent at the same time, allowing you to work.

By the time about ten minutes had passed, and the eggs had finished cooking, the stove being switched off with a simple turn of a knob—Paimon had finally woken up to the smell of eggs. You knew this because she didn't even finish her yawn before she was shooting out of the blanket, rushing over to the counter.

Her mouth was already wide as she stared at the plates you were preparing, simply hungry for something to eat. The eggs weren't even all that flavourful, seeing as you didn't have any seasoning right now— you'd make sure to buy some later on, but that didn't stop Paimon from scarfing down her plate like nothing else mattered.

The only reason it had taken her over a minute to eat was because you had to teach her to use a fork, but once she got the hang of it she was downing the food as if it would disappear. Eating seemed to be a natural mechanism, then.

Albedo was far calmer in how he ate, showing no obvious reaction to the flavour or texture of the food, instead chewing like a robot. He easily held the fork like a painter would their brush, and he continued to eat softly, taking a little longer than Paimon would have to eat his entire portion.

Aether on the other hand... he had to be woken up to eat.

Paimon had done the honours for you, floating over to him—which still caught you off guard—and waking him up with a shake to the shoulders. He'd sat up with dry eyes, eyelids still heavy and braid almost falling out. An unusual sight.

He'd barely even registered the plate passed into his hands, and teaching the poor boy how to use a fork was a whole other story. He missed the target several times, which happened to take up the entire plate. By the end of it, he was fully awake, but it was only when it was ten minutes breezed by that he was able to look around properly.

The dishes were now tossed back in the sink, stacking up with the others, and the others had content stomachs—minus you.

So now, as promised... it was time to show them the video game they originated from, as you promised them you would.

Lined up on the couch like an awaiting audience, eyes following you like a hawk, they all watched as you fiddled with a box next to the TV— specifically, your ps4. Old, from your teen years, but still functioning and capable of running Genshin on it.

Once the box powered on, the TV picked up its signal right away, switching to the next HDMI cable and changing the channel from otters holding hands to that damned bright blue that would always haunt your nightmares.

You grabbed your controller from the TV cabinet and stepped back, allowing the others to see the screen fully. They stared in wonder as they watched the TV, eyes looking over the game covers, though you assumed they'd all be focused on the very first one.

The one with Aether, Amber, Jean and Kaeya standing in the front of it.

"Hey—! It's Amber and the others!" Paimon shouted, her eyes then noticing Aether. "And you too [REDACTED]!! Look! You're on the screen!" She placed a small hand on his shoulder, shaking Aether as she naggingly pointed to the TV over and over again.

Aether deadpanned, still tired from his interrupted sleep. "Yes... I see that Paimon," he hummed, his voice barely above a breath.

Again, they refocused when you clicked onto the game, awaiting its opening— but unfortunately your worst enemy popped up.

"This game is due for an update. Would you like to update now?"

Yes | Later

You were going to throw this controller at the TV, honestly, did it have to pop up now? Why did past you not update the game!???

You sighed, shoulders slumping. "It had to update..." you groaned, shoulders sagging.

"..."

"Uh... what's that mean?" Paimon looked back at you with confusion.

"It means there's new content— and it has to download it," you huffed, flicking the buttons to the 'yes' option, clicking down to confirm. Instantly, the screen was bombarded by bright blue again, a line cutting through the screen in the middle of it. Below that line, numbers lay, the percentage of the download lingering.

"1% completed. 3 hours remaining."

Oh well fuck me gently in the ass with a chainsaw why don't you?

Seriously, you rolled your eyes, arms falling to your side. The others noticed your obviously upset behaviour, again growing curious. "Uh... what's does it say?" Paimon was once again the one to ask the questions, and you let your head loll to the side, frown etched onto your face.

"It's estimated to take three hours to update."

Paimon audibly whined at that, and the disappointment lingering within the room was visible.

"So we have to wait?! Paimon doesn't wanna wait!"

"Welp... we're gonna have to, guess we should find something to do," you hummed, walking back to the TV cabinet as you tried to find something else to do in the meantime. What did you even have—? You didn't have many group activity games.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

CHAPTER 1 | 'A new world' COMPLETED

───── CHARACTERS INTRODUCED

'Aether' / [REDACTED] / The Traveler

Companionship level ; ☆☆☆☆☆

'Paimon' / The Traveler's guide

Companionship level ; ★☆☆☆☆

'Albedo' / Chief Alchemist of the Knights of Favonius

Companionship level ; ☆☆☆☆☆

─────

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟐 | '𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐝𝐞' — Loading

[bijouxcarys]

𝑻𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑩𝒊𝒏𝒅 (𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝑹𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒏𝒔 𝒙 𝑶𝑪) - 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑺𝒊𝒙

Masterlist

Character Profiles/Face Claims

Playlist

A/N: My favourite chapter thus far. Really hope you enjoy this one... I feel like it's been a long-time coming lol. Make sure to let me know your thoughts, etc... Any questions are greatly appreciated! I like interacting with you all, even if I do take a minute to reply hehe. Enjoy!

Tags: @trippinsorrows @empressdede @thetribalqueen @heauxvibez @bigsimperika

@cyberdejos2 @keyaho @headoftheetable @jstarr86 @southerngirl41

@tshepisho @cry1nwhileimcumm1n @maeb99 @thedesireds @dzdndcnfsd

@expert-texpert @niknakbucks92 @sillyteecup

(let me know if you want to be tagged in future Roman fics)

Nate stood at the base of her Tribeca high-rise, the cool evening breeze doing little to soothe the heat around her neck. Pure tension. Stress. She was a tough cookie, sure, but the constant vigilance required in the Volkov family took its toll.

Tonight, she needed a break, a moment to herself before she had to put on her mask again at the auction this weekend. She craved the solace her apartment usually provided, a minimalistic refuge from… well, from everything else.

The lobby was quiet, the only sound being her heels echoing against the floor. Acknowledging the doorman with a curt nod, heading towards the elevators near the back. It was always in her best interest to not form any kind of relationship with the staff in the building. This was her time to be alone. The more obscure she was, the better.

Then again, forming a connection with someone like Natalka Volkov was synonymous with signing off on your own death warrant.

Even though the apartment was technically hers, and under her name legally, it was still a Volkov property in essence, acquired only through Dimitri’s permission when she turned 21. And when a property is associated with the most powerful mob boss in New York City… personal touches are out of the question.

Don’t leave anything that could help anyone trace it back to you.

Don’t let yourself be known.

Don’t give it away.

Don’t… be your own person.

Years of meticulous planning and cautious maneuvering, however, had taught Nate how to live under the radar of her family’s scrutiny.

She was acutely aware that the Volkovs had co-opted the building’s security, ensuring they had constant access to CCTV footage and details of all residents. But Nate was no amateur. She’d grown up in this life, for God’s sake. She knew how to navigate such… constraints.

At one point, she managed to reroute the security cameras in her apartment, looping the same few hours of footage. But she eventually had to come to terms with the fact that it wasn’t foolproof, and someone would figure out what she was doing. So she ended up enlisting the help of two people who knew her deal, knew her family, and knew her. A quick word to her close friend, Lana, and her husband, and she was in business.

They had painstakingly compiled a convincing collection of footage from her apartment at various times of the day, creating a realistic feed to fool even the most watchful eye. Boom. Problem solved.

As Nate stepped out of the elevator and made her way down the hallway, an unease instantly settled in the pit of her stomach when she clocked the view of the door to her penthouse apartment.

It was ajar.

Her senses sharpened immediately, and she paused. Of course, the one moment I get to just chill the fuck out for a minute, and this shit happens…

She reached into her black jeans, fingers wrapping around the handle of her pocket knife. Flipping it open with precise motion, she held it behind her back as she cautiously approached the door.

Step 1: Analyse the break-in.

Upon initial inspection, it was clear that whoever had made their way into her apartment knew how to pick a lock. And well. Nate had never seen such a clean pick before. Not only that, but a small nudge with her foot revealed the chain behind the door had been cut. A sleek, sharp, precise job. Right down the middle.

Step 2: Touch as little as possible upon entry.

She slipped inside, refraining from opening the door entirely, and scanned the apartment with her eyes.

Step 3: Figure out the nature of the intrusion.

Everything was in place. No sign of struggle, or theft. The PS5 under the 52” TV mounted on the wall in the living room was in the same place as she left it. The priceless family heirlooms dotted around on shelves and walls in the hallways were untouched. Almost like… nobody had been there at all.

The silence was unnerving. Each second stretched out.

Step 4: There isn’t a step fucking 4, what is this, an instruction class?

Thanks, Dad, that one was really helpful…

“Whoever is in here, make yourself known in the next 5 seconds, or I swear to God I’ll cut out your fucking tongue!” she took the risk of calling out, stripping her voice of emotion and taking on the well-rehearsed tone of Dimitri.

The apartment, however, remained silent, tension thickening with every breath. 

It all came to a head when Nate stepped through into the kitchen, her heart jolting, and damn near giving her a heart attack.

“What the fuck?!” 

Rhea turned slowly, her lips curling into a little smirk. “Seriously?” she glanced down. “A fucking pocket knife?”

“Who are you, the fucking boogeyman—why’d you have to be so fucking creepy?!” Nate’s voice came out sharper than she intended as she slammed the knife down on the kitchen island.

“I needed to see you.”

“What, and you couldn’t just text me? You had to break into my apartment like a fucking serial killer?”

“Do serial killers break into people’s apartments?” Rhea raised an eyebrow, turning fully on her heel with her hands tucked into her front pockets.

“Wh—I don’t bloody know, Rhea, why are you here? And how did you know I was gonna be here?” Nate sighed, taking a deep breath from the scare.

Rhea’s smirk widened. “Nate… it may have been a long time, but I still know you better than you know yourself.” She began to move around the room, her gaze sweeping over the minimalistic decor. “You always did need your space from time to time… You’ve always been a recluse.” She paused at the counter beside the oven, spinning and leaning back against it. Her arms folded, and her perfect brows narrowed slightly.

“What I didn’t peg you as, though, was a fucking traitor.”

The atmosphere shifted instantly as Nate felt the meaning behind Rhea’s words sink in. “Rhea, I d–”

“I don’t need any bullshit right now, Volkov,” she snapped icily. “My right-hand, my confidante, my best friend, is dead because of someone in that bloody warehouse.”

Rhea was never one to openly communicate such raw emotion. Vulnerability wasn’t her forte, as some would say. Nate was potentially one of the few people in Rhea’s life that had seen it, which also meant she knew when she was withholding it. And the way Rhea’s mouth twitched and her nostrils flared a fraction… God, it was chilling.

“It’s torn us apart,” the Australian continued. “Finn, JD… they’ve been going off at night. Come back in the morning smashed out their gourds. Dom Dom’s become a-a fuckin’... I don’t know, a child. Disinterested in figuring this shit out, avoiding any confrontation.”

Nate pulled her mouth into a tight-lipped smile. “Yeah, well, Mysterio’s never had balls big enough for that, has h–”

“Don’t you start on my Dom, alright?” Rhea’s blue eyes locked onto Nate’s; a kind of warning sign to shut the fuck up… Mami is not in the mood, it seems…

“Rhea, I had nothing to do with Damian’s death,” she said sternly. 

The stare-off was intense. Long. It wasn’t in the books to be blamed for Damian’s death, let alone by Rhea Ripley herself.

“I… am not ruling out the possibility that it was your family,” she said finally. “If I find out it was you,” her jaw tightened, “or if you had… any part in this, I swear…”

“You swear you’ll do what?” Nate’s response was automatic, a defensive reflex. She squared up, straightening her posture and lifting her chin in provocation.

Rhea’s eyes hardened, mirroring Nate’s stance. “I will make sure, on the soul of Priest, that you… and everyone you have ever cared about pays.” She placed her hands on the kitchen island and leaned in. “I won’t stop until I’ve torn your world to pieces. Starting with little Katerina.”

Nate clenched her jaw, swallowing harshly as she felt her own muscles twitch—telling her, commanding her, to raise her hand, to slap Rhea into next week. But she remained still.

“Very scary, Rhea,” she managed to calmly utter. “But it wasn’t us. We’re not that stupid.”

Rhea’s gaze bored into her, searching for any hint of deception. Slowly, she seemed to relax, though the mistrust didn’t completely leave her eyes. “Alright, Nate. I’ll take your word for now. But know this,” she pointed her index and middle finger towards her face. “I’ll be watching.”

“Good,” Nate replied, accompanied with a sour smile. “Now can you get the fuck out of my apartment?”

The eradicator’s smirk returned as she headed for the door. “You know, I always liked that spunk, Natalka,” she commented, winking at Nate over her shoulder.

Despite herself, Nate felt a small smile tugging at her lips. But she was very swift to push it back into her face, running her tongue over her teeth.

Complicated histories induce complicated feelings.

Just before Rhea left entirely, Nate did call after her with a slightly softer resolve. “I really am sorry… about Damian.”

Rhea paused at the doorway, her back to Nate. She didn’t turn around, but she nodded slightly. “Thanks,” she murmured, and then she was gone.

Rubbing her temples, she squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to keep her wits about her, stay sharp, dump the self-pity she had a history of wallowing in. 

Besides, she had other things to worry about. Other things she needed to put her energy into. Sure, it stung to be suspected of such betrayal, especially by someone she had such a rich history with, but she really did need to focus. Review plans for the auction. Make a headstart on bringing justice for her mother.

Look into the man she swore to bring down.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

There was a promise of rain in the Manhattan sky as Nate sat in tense silence, eyes fixed on the cityscape gliding past the window of the SUV. Boris was seated next to her, adjusting the cufflinks on his tailored suit, and casting her sidelong glances every now and then. His attempts at small talk had been met with cold indifference, but that didn’t stop him from trying.

“Prekrasnoye plat’ye,” he hummed with a slight lean. “Brings out your eyes.”

Nate didn’t bother to reply, only to deposit a glance of her own down at her dress. Her mind was elsewhere. She knew this auction was important, but it really was just another chore for her. Dimitri’s reiteration of his orders before Boris arrived at the house were clear—acquire the weapons, keep an eye on Boris, and most importantly, don’t cause a scene. That little defiant streak in her bristled at the final order. Wanted to defy the notion of not causing a scene. But it wasn’t an option—not when there were such tensions mounting between her family, The Judgement Day, and The Bloodline. It kept repeating in her head: let Reigns announce we took the shipment. He knows they did it, and they’ll pay for it…

The car came to a halt outside Grand Central Terminal. Boris was quick to step out, offering Nate his hand. She ignored it, slipping out of the road-side of the vehicle and adjusting the deep green silk dress that clung to her curves. The slit running up her thigh allowed for much easier movement, though she hated how it made her feel like a display item at one of these auctions.

“Natalka?” Boris said, an edge of impatience creeping into his voice.

Nodding curtly, Nate followed him through the grand entrance of the terminal. The main concourse was as busy as ever, but their destination was far from the prying eyes of tourists and commuters. They made their way to a hidden entrance near The Campbell Bar, a restored 1920s-era cocktail lounge that served as a front for tonight’s event.

The bar’s luxurious interior—dark wood panelling, vintage leather chairs, and dim lighting—set the tone for the evening. They were greeted by a tall, stern-looking man who eyed them both before nodding and stepping aside to reveal a stairwell leading down to the auction room.

The room below was a stark contrast to the opulence above. It was an intimate, dimly lit space, with the rich and powerful of New York’s underworld already seated around a series of tables, discussing the illicit goods that would soon be up for bid. 

Nate’s eyes swept across the room, assessing each figure. She recognised some of them—arms dealers, drug lords, and corrupt politicians. Others were new faces, potential threats she needed to keep in mind.

Boris loved to play up to the people—to play the part of the doting gentleman. He guided Nate to their reserved seats right near the front. Eyes landed on her as they passed through the crowd, men noting her presence, women sizing her up. But she was used to this—the scrutiny, the judgement. It all slid off her like water off a duck’s back.

The auctioneer, a slim man with slicked-back hair and a sharp suit, took his place on the small stage at the front of the room, tapping the microphone to get everyone’s attention.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he began with a smoothly practised cadence, “we have some exceptional items up for bid tonight. But first, let’s start with something a little closer to home…”

The first few items were standard fare—high-end jewellery, rare art pieces, a couple of luxury vehicles. All of them stolen goods with tampered mileage and licence plates, of course. Nothing that caught Nate’s interest. She waited patiently, though, knowing the real reason for their presence was still to come.

Finally, the auctioneer reached the point of the evening that had everyone leaning forward in their seats.

“And now, for those of you with more… unique tastes,” he said with a knowing smile, “we present a collection of belt-buckle knives and sword canes, custom-made and perfect for those unexpected moments when a more subtle touch is required.”

Nate felt Boris shift next to her, a greedy glint in his eyes. This was what they were here for. She watched as the auctioneer’s assistants brought out the weapons, displaying them with care. The room buzzed with mumbles and murmurs as the bidding began.

Her mind was sharp, calculating each move. She noted who was bidding, how high they were willing to go, and when it seemed as if the bid couldn’t go higher, that was when they’d sweep in. Whenever Boris raised his paddle to bid, she shot him a quick glance, subtly signalling her validation. He nodded, understanding her cue. They usually had limits, but that wasn’t the case tonight. Dimitri wanted those knives, and he would get them.

As the bids climbed higher, nearing six digits, Nate took a moment to survey the room again. She wanted to know who had given up on their bids and who still had the money to continue. But that’s when she saw it. Noticed it. The familiar face in the crowd—tall, imposing, and stood towards the back. In the shadows.

Roman Reigns.

Her heart skipped a beat, her crossed legs stiffening under the mask of her dress. What the hell is he doing here?

The golden-green of her eyes shot through the darkness in which he presided, when his own gaze landed on her, the recognition in them too stark not to notice. He knew the Volkovs would be there. Had to—why else wouldn’t he react similarly to how she was? Or maybe he was and he was just fucking good at hiding it. At least she was wearing a dress to cover up how tense her muscles became.

“195,000!”

As the bidding war intensified, Nate’s focus snapped back to the auction. Boris was still in the game, thank God, his hand raised as the numbers climbed higher and higher. But her mind was now divided, half on the auction, and half on Roman.

“205,000!”

Why is he here? What is he after? Why isn’t he bidding?

“Sold! For $230,000 to bidder number 13!”

Boris won the bid just as Nate’s thoughts began to spiral. The gavel came down with a resounding thud, and a smattering of spiteful applause broke out in the room. Boris turned to her with a smug grin, clearly pleased with himself.

“See? Easy,” he whispered, leaning in a little too close for comfort.

Nate forced a little smile, but she was already thinking ahead. The auction wasn’t over, but her attention was no longer on the weapons they’d just won for Dimitri. She needed to know what Roman was doing there, and more importantly, if it had anything to do with the shipment.

As the next item was brought to the stage, she glanced back to where Roman had been standing, but he was gone. Her pulse quickened. The unease settled in the pit of her stomach. She didn’t even care about the additional illicit items that were put up for bid. Boris was completely oblivious to her almost frantic scan of the room, probably taking a moment to stroke his own ego at the win. Even if it was a given, and money bore no issue.

Suddenly, the lights flickered—a brief pulse of darkness that sent a murmur through the crowd. Nate stiffened once again, her instincts screaming at her that something was seriously wrong.

And then it happened.

The room plunged into darkness, the auctioneer’s voice cutting off mid-sentence. The dim emergency lights kicked on, casting an eerie red glow over the room. People began shifting uneasily in their seats, some even rising to leave.

“Uh—apologies, ladies and gentlemen,” the auctioneer tried to project his voice over the switched-off microphone. He leaned back to talk to someone, presumably asking what the fuck was going on. “It seems there’s been a bit of a technical difficulty, just bear with us…”

“Stay here,” Nate hissed at Boris, already pushing up from her chair.

“But—” Boris began, but Nate was already moving, slipping through the crowd during their none-the-wiser confusion. Some people were clogged near the exit, their natural instincts telling them they had to leave, but Nate wasn’t heading that way.

“You!” Nate spun to see another man in a perfect suit. “You’ve been here before, right?”

She raised an eyebrow, and nodded slowly. “Yeah…”

“You know where the fuse box is? I gotta keep everyone under control.”

“What do I look like, a janitor?”

“Will you just go check on it?”

Nate sighed, realising that doing this simple, tedious favour for a stranger would be synonymous with Dimitri’s order of not causing a scene.

“Yeah, I’ll handle it.”

She did, in fact, know exactly where the fuse box was. It wasn’t too many years ago where she was instructed to switch the damn thing off in order to secure an item without bidding for it. Play the role of a ditsy woman who didn’t know any better once someone saw her standing near it.

As she navigated the darkened corridors towards the fuse box, she felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up. Being alone down here, in such strange circumstances. None of it just seemed right to her.

She turned a corner and nearly collided with someone in the narrow hallway. As the faint, red emergency lights flickered, she found herself face-to-face with none other than the exact man she was so unnerved seeing earlier on.

They froze, staring at each other for a moment that felt like an eternity. Neither of them had met in person before, but they knew each other by reputation. God, did they know of each other… Roman’s family may have been less familiar with the Volkov family, minus Tamina who literally knew everything, but he knew as much as he needed to. Research and all.

For Nate, the anger was instant. Being this close to the man responsible for not only Damian’s death, but for her family missing out on a prime shipment of goods. Words evaded her momentarily, and she took an instinctual step backwards.

“What are you doing here?” Nate snapped sharply.

He smirked a little, rocking back on his heels. “Thought I’d check out this wonderful place y’all got here—”

“Don’t bullshit me, Reigns, I wasn’t born yesterday.”

Whatever was left of the smile on Roman’s face instantly faltered, and his eyes became icy, cold, narrowed with frustration. “Listen, Princess, I ain’t here to pull shit… Unlike your family, I have some con—”

“Unlike my family?” Nate huffed, pointing to herself. “What, the family that your family fucked over?”

“Think I’m just gon’ spill my business to you, Volkov?” He let out a rueful chuckle, running his hand over his beard. 

“Yes, actually,” Nate folded her arms, pursing her lips. “When it involves getting screwed by some sloppy amateurs, yeah…” She squinted her eyes slightly up at the over 6ft Samoan. “...I think you should spill your business.”

Roman’s eyebrows raised a little, slightly taken aback at how bold this… little girl in front of him seemed to be. How she just carelessly called The Bloodline sloppy amateurs. Impressed wouldn’t be the correct word here, but the correct one was floating nearby it. It still pissed him off to no end that she thought she could speak to him like that.

“You got some fuckin’ nerve,” he grumbled, jaw clenching.

Nate smirked, amused at the fact she clearly managed to creep under his skin, even if only a little bit. “Y’know, people speak, Reigns. I’ve heard a lot about you, and not only from my father.”

Tilting his head to the side, Roman gauged her tone. Smug. Provocative in all the wrong ways. “Yeah? What’s that supposed to mean, Princess?”

“It means I didn’t expect to be able to anger you so easily, Mr Head of the Table…” The smirk on her face turned pitiful. It almost bordered on a pout, mocking his very existence through the red hue of the corridor.

She watched with great interest as his features twisted, neck craning through an attempt to subdue the inevitable outburst that bubbled up within his chest. He couldn’t make a move on her. Couldn’t bash her pretty little head against the breeze block wall inches to their left. It would be the stupidest decision he’d ever make. He would be dealt with… irreparably.

She chuckled, stepping back again to lean against the wall opposite him. “So let’s cut the shit,” she started, her face dropping neutrally. “I think we both know why you’re really at an underground auction. And it’s not to admire the architecture.”

Okay, she’s good, she’s good… Roman found himself stunned—for a microsecond, but it still happened nonetheless. The last thing he expected was to confront Natalka Volkov tonight; Tamina was very thorough with what the best cause of action would be. As much as he desperately wanted to take the abduction route, to use Dimitri Volkov’s precious daughter as a pawn to get his half of the shipment back… He had to trust that Tamina knew enough about the Volkovs to know that taking Natalka hostage would be the least helpful solution.

He just didn’t expect the girl to square up to him verbally.

But as encumbered as his thoughts were in that moment, they were fleeting, and he was able to respond almost immediately.

“Damn right it ain’t to admire the architecture—I came to take back what’s mine.”

“And what exactly is it that you claim is yours?”

Seriously? “You gon’ ask me that? You really gon’ stand there in front of me, and ask me a dumb fuckin’ question when you know exactly what I’m talkin’ ‘bout?”

“Well, maybe you should tell me what you’re talking ab–”

“I’m talkin’ ‘bout my half of that damn shipment!” He hissed through gritted teeth.

Nate scrunched her brows up, pushing herself up from the wall. “Oh, the shipment that you took?”

“Don’t fuck with me, Volkov, if I had that shit, do you really think I’d be stood here talkin’ to your ass right now?”

“And if I had it, do you think I’d be down here, looking for a fucking fuse box so I can get the fuck out of here, let alone talking to you?”

“Oh, so it’s just a coincidence that you’re here with your fiancé, at a fuckin’ auction, right after a whole ass shipment disappears—you people really need to work on your stories, ‘cus they suck.”

“You people? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean you people,” he finally took a hefty step towards her, “you, your daddy, your uncles, and whoever else the Russians fuck with these days.”

Nate refused to back down. She wasn’t about to be ridiculed, talked down to, accused, by someone like Roman fucking Reigns.

“Okay, big man, let’s say we did take the shipment and kill off The Judgement Day’s VP—we didn’t—but let’s just say we did for a second…” her voice dropped to a confident, patronising hum. “The last thing I’d be doing is wandering around New York with little to no protection, present at an auction if a shipment of weapons we stole was being put up.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Ugh,” she groaned, running her hand over her face. “My dad wanted this collection of knives, Reigns, we aren’t here to sell a shipment of heavy-duty weaponry. Y’know… the weapons you stole.” She added through a mumble.

“We didn’t steal shit, Volkov,” he barked.

“Well if you didn’t, then who the fuck did?!” Nate flung her arms up. “It sure as fuck wasn’t us, it had to have been you!” Alright, rein it in a little, Nate, don’t let your emotions get the better of you…

Roman’s fists clenched at his sides, rolling his shoulders. “You really expect me to believe you had nothin’ to do with it?”

“We’re not that stupid.” Four words, each punctuated like a stab in the ribs. “I cannot think of a single reason why we would ambush our own shipment and take out an ally.”

Roman then took a smaller step towards Nate, the space between them shrinking to almost nothing. “Maybe you wanted more than what was agreed.”

Nate’s heart pounded in her chest. “Maybe you were looking for an excuse to clean house. Blame us, take over… Call it retribution.”

The silence returned, but this time it wasn’t born of hostility. It was the silence of two people realising that the pieces of the puzzle they’d been trying to force together didn’t fit, no matter how hard they pushed. Nate’s gaze faltered for a fraction of a second, a moment of hesitation that she immediately regretted.

Finally, needing to break the tension and get away from the confusing mess of thoughts swirling around in her head, Nate took a step back. “I’m checking the fuse box,” she said, the words coming out sharper than the words that started the conversation. “If you want to keep playing detective, be my fucking guest, Reigns.”

She turned on her heel without waiting for a response, leaving Roman alone with his own puzzled thoughts on who was to blame.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

Roman was expecting—no, hoping—to come home to a silent house. Too much had happened over the past few hours, he really needed time to just… exist. Try to regain composure, a semblance of cognitive power, to figure out what the fuck he was going to do.

It wasn’t that he believed Natalka Volkov when she insisted her family had nothing to do with Priest’s assassination, or the disappearing shipment. As she loved to remind him, one could not be so stupid. But he’d be a liar if he said some of her points didn’t… make sense.

When Roman stepped inside, he was met with the muffled sound of voices coming from the living room. He sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose before heading in. The sight that greeted him wasn’t what he wanted after the night he’d had. Tamina was in the kitchen, packing up her laptop, looking more frustrated than he’d ever seen her.

“You’re still here?” he asked, the edge in his voice suggesting it was more of a lament than a question.

Tamina looked up with tired eyes. “It’s like tryin’ to find a needle in a stack of fucking needles.” She closed her laptop with a soft thud, rubbing her temples. “Closest I got is a fucking liquor store’s CCTV across from the Volkov’s warehouse in Queens. Not much to go on, though.”

Roman sighed, running a hand over his face. “I appreciate it… but if there’s nothin’ solid, we’ll just… regroup tomorrow or somethin’.”

She gave him a curt nod, gathering her things. “Alright. Just don’t do anything rash, we still don’t know who’s pullin’ the strings here.”

“I know,” Roman muttered, though his thoughts were already a tangled mess of plans, suspicions, and dead ends. “Thanks, ‘Mina.”

Just as Tamina was packing up, the unmistakable sound of boisterous laughter erupted from the next room. Roman’s shoulders slumped in exasperation. Of course, they’re still here too…

He found them sprawled out on his sectional, their energy levels somehow still through the roof, even at this hour. Jey was flipping through channels like he was searching for something he’d never find, while Jimmy was narrating some ridiculous plan about how they should handle the Volkovs.

“Bruh, I’m tellin’ you, we gotta roll up on ‘em, catch ‘em slippin’!” Jimmy grinned, throwing an uppercut in the air.

Roman leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms, exhaustion dripping from every pore. “Y’all ever go home?” he grumbled, though it was clear the question was nothing short of rhetorical.

“Home? Uce, you know this is home,” Jey replied with a wide grin, finally landing on some late-night talk show that neither of them would actually watch.

Roman gave him a flat look. “Funny. Real funny.” He walked further into the room, lowering himself onto the opposite end of the couch with a weary grunt.

“You find out what went down at that auction?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Roman resisted the urge to roll his eyes, knowing his attempt to deter wouldn’t be enough.

“Come on, man, you know we gotta know!” Jimmy chimed in, sitting up and looking at his cousin eagerly. “We can help, you know we got your back.”

Roman huffed heavily, rubbing at the back of his neck. He knew they meant well, but right now, their relentless energy level was the last thing he needed.

“Fine,” he relented sharply. “Natalka Volkov swears they didn’t take the shipment–”

“Damn, you actually talked to he–”

“She claims they’re just as in the dark as we are. And she was pretty damn convincing…”

Jey whistled low, exchanging a look with Jimmy. “So what, you think someone else is playin’ both sides?”

“Could be,” Roman replied, though he wasn’t entirely convinced. “But I don’t trust her. Could just be another angle she’s working.”

Jimmy leaned forward, his eyes narrowing in thought. “Man, we should just storm their warehouse, make ‘em talk. They can’t hide from us. You need–”

“What I need is quiet. Not a couple of hyperactive idiots who think they can solve everything with some half-baked, adrenaline-fuelled idea.”

“Okay, but hear me out–”

Roman cut him off with a sharp glare. “Enough.”

The room went silent, the energy dampening as Roman’s tone shifted from annoyed to outright deadly. “You think I haven’t thought of it all already? You think I’m playin’ with some amateurs here?”

“Chill, Uce,” Jey said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “We just tryna help.”

“I don’t need help. I need you both to leave,” Roman snapped, the fatigue in his voice barely masking the anger simmering underneath. “Now.”

The Usos exchanged another look, this one less amused. They could tell Roman was done, and for once, they didn’t push back.

“Alright, alright, we’re gone,” Jimmy said, getting up. “But just say the word, and we’re there.”

“Yeah,” Jey added, grabbing his phone from the table and patting Roman on the shoulder. “We got your back, Uce.”

Roman didn’t respond, just watched as they finally made their way to the door, their presence a lingering buzz in his already overworked mind.

As the door clicked shut behind them, he let out a breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding. The silence in the house settled around him like a blanket, but instead of comfort, all he felt was the weight of everything that happened—and everything that still needed to be done.

Finally, he allowed himself to sink into the couch, closing his eyes, trying to shut out the world for just a few minutes. But even in the quiet, all he could think about was how… wrong everything felt. He wasn’t sure who was telling the truth, wasn’t sure who was lying to his face, or who might already have a knife aimed at his back.

He just knew he was too damn tired to figure it out tonight.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow, he’d sort this shit out. But tonight… The man just needed a few hours of sleep.

[hoonieyun]

ritual chapter four: let me go

ritual chapter four: let me go

ʚ⁺˖↪ masterlist

warnings: mentions of death, terror, murder, horror, violence, near death experiences, manipulation, home invasion, sadism, suicide attempt, depression, overall 18+

word count: 6113

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sim jaeyun, jake, iron grip, searing pain, ribbon of death, and sinister sadist.

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it has been a month since you had moved into your new home and you thought that by now you would’ve fallen into a routine but everyday that passes by it seems that it only gets harder and harder to get through it all. you weren’t sure where this wave of depression came from but it just hit you like a truck one day and has lasted for almost a week now.

you weren’t sure what to do to shake this feeling away. it was moments like this that you really wished that your parents were still around. your mom had a way with words that just instantly pulled you away from under any gray cloud that seemed to storm over you and your dad had a way of making you laugh so hard your jaw would begin to hurt as tears fell from your eyes. 

it wasn’t until a tear drop landed on the framed photo of you and your parents did you notice that you were crying. you felt like you had been crying almost every day since you moved into this new place. it was surprisingly a beautiful day outside so you fought through the sadness that has shrouded you to enjoy the warm feeling of the sun on your skin. you remembered that your apartment offered a rooftop amenity for its residents to lounge and hang out whenever they pleased. 

as you stepped into the elevator and pressed the rooftop button, a cold chill washes over you and that all familiar feeling of being watched comes back. you hadn’t felt like you were being watched lately but whenever you’ve had to step out of your apartment to grab the mail or take out the trash or really late at night when you wander to your kitchen for a glass of water in the dark, it feels like there is a pair of eyes burning a whole into the back of your head. you had even begun doing yoga and journaling to help soothe your worries and troubles but that only lasted a few days. 

the elevator dings once you’ve arrived at the rooftop, you take a deep breath. ready to accept the warm air and sunshine but you’re met with gray clouds that have hidden the sun away. you were confused on how the weather could instantly change in just the last few minutes but you figured that since you were there already you might as well take a gander at what the rooftop had and see if this was a place you could go to when you needed to clear your mind. the rooftop layout was simple but it offered a lot of space, enough to throw a party for a large group of people or to host the number of residents that lived in your building. 

wandering around the rooftop and touching the miscellaneous things that served as decor, the weather only seemed to get chillier the longer you were up there. several throw pillows were laid out across the various couches and chairs with tacky patterns, tables with plastic floral centerpieces that softly blew with the cold wind, and a fire pit in the center of the rooftop that offered a temporary warmth. you thought to yourself why anyone would spend time up here in the cold over a fire pit when they could just be in the comfort of their home under a blanket. something you wished you were doing right now after the failure of coming to the rooftop for some sun. 

the longer you spent up on the roof the more you felt drained, you weren’t sure if it was the complete 180 the weather did or the elevation or what but it seemed like it only made you feel more depressed. you looked up at the sky, hoping that the clouds would miraculously move and the sun would start to peek through but nothing. it even felt like the clouds got darker. 

you began to walk towards the rooftop entrance and back to the elevator when a whisper that sounded awfully similar to your mother’s voice passed by. you whipped your head around at the voice but found nothing. the rooftop still had no other people, it was just you, the tacky furniture, and the cold stale air that seemed to get colder the longer you lingered. just as you were about to continue walking back inside, you heard the voice once again and this time it was a lot louder than before. you swore you weren’t going crazy so you decided to do a lap around the rooftop as if that was going to help you find the owner of the voice that was playing tricks on you when there wasn’t necessarily anywhere to hide. 

the longer you waited for the voice to reappear, the more it felt like you were actually going crazy, calling out to it as if it’ll respond but everytime you did the only thing you heard was the soft whistling of the wind. you find yourself hunched over the railing of the rooftop, your vision directed to the ground that was 10 stories down. an intrusive thought swims its way into your mind as you weigh the outcome if you were to dive and plunge into the solid concrete below. you didn’t know where these thoughts were coming from but the longer you thought about them the stronger the urge became. 

you didn’t even realize it but you had climbed over the railing and were now just holding onto the railing from behind. had you let go and took one step forward you would be plummeting to the ground. just as your fingers slip off the railing, a soft pair of hands find themselves on your wrists, pulling you back over and onto the right and safe side of the railing. away from impending doom. 

the abrupt action causes you to snap out of your depressive trance and you lock eyes with the person who just saved your life. his hands that were once grasping your arms, were now snaked around your waist as he turned you around to face him. your breathing stabilizes and in a second you are brushing yourself off and pulling yourself out of the stranger’s grasp. 

“are you okay? it looked like you were going to jump-” the stranger began to say but you cut him off. “and what about it? it’s none of your business.” you say as you storm off, brushing past him as you shake your head and rub your temples. although you were grateful that the fateful stranger saved you, you weren’t completely sure why you lashed out at him. you enter the building once again and the man enters behind you as you wait for the elevator, the air between the two of you is awkward and you can tell the man was itching to say something. 

just as the man opens his mouth to speak, the elevator dings, interrupting him. the two of you file into the elevator and when you press the button for your apartment, you realize that he hadn’t done the same. “what floor?” you mumble and he seems to beam at the interaction like he was glad that you had said something to him even if it was just two words. “3 please and thank you!” the man says, laying the politeness on thick, maybe as a way to get on your good side after you had let him have it outside. 

the elevator ride seems to go on longer than usual and the awkward tension in the enclosed metal space seems to get thicker. “sorry for what i said out there. i’m kind of going through it right now…” you mutter softly without making eye contact with the stranger, afraid of the embarrassment and shame of lashing out on someone, let alone someone you didn’t even know. when he doesn’t respond right away you look over at him and he’s just smiling at you. “it’s alright. i’m just glad i stopped you from making a horrible decision, is all.” he says and it warms your heart that although you had initially been rude to him he only met you with kindness. your small smile spreads on your face as the elevator dings, indicating it has arrived on your floor. 

when the elevator doors open and you step out, you quickly turn around when he calls out to you, “it’s nice to meet you y/n! my name is jake by the way. i’ll see you around!” jake says in a rushed tone as the elevator doors close at him. you smile at him and for once this whole week, the smile was genuine and you had forgotten all the reasons why you were so ready to end it all just moments ago. you were so focused on this new found “relationship” with jake that you hadn’t even realized he knew your name before you had even told him. 

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as jake saunters into his apartment, while closing his front door, his two brothers, heeseung and jay, appear behind him. “that’s not like you.” jay says, suspicion in his eyes as he watches the younger. jake turns around and looks at his two brothers staring at him with their arms crossed. “what isn’t like me?” jake asks, playing dumb.

“trying to get closer to our sacrifice by being… kind.” jay elaborates and jake snorts at his comment. “i’m nice… just when i want to be.” jake says walking past his two older brother’s and plopping onto his couch. “just make sure you get the job done.” heeseung says before turning into a cloud of black smoke and fading away. jake shimmies into the couch, trying to get comfortable, closing his eyes to get a nap in, but jay’s stare is enough to make him uncomfortable even if he wasn’t human. 

“do you mind?” jake says, eyes still closed as he’s found a comfortable position on his couch to take a nap. jay somehow appears right beside jake, looking down at his brother, gaze on him only intensifying. “i’m watching you.” jay says and jake opens one eye with a brow raise. “you’re always watching.” jake retorts at his brother's statement which wasn’t anything new as jay had the ability of being omniscient. jay suddenly yanks jake up from his position by the collar of his shirt, “don’t test me.” jay says, threatening his younger brother. jake doesn’t respond but as his hand wraps around jays arm that was hoisting him up by the collar, a searing pain begins to burn on jay’s skin; causing him to drop jake back onto the couch. a smirk spread on the younger’s face like he was proud of the pain he had caused his older brother. 

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after returning to your apartment, you decide to call it a night earlier than usual. you had no energy after the events on the rooftop but your thoughts were soon occupied with jake rather than another near death experience. you were starting to believe this place was bad luck with all the times you almost died but after meeting jake you genuinely thought things were going to start turning around. oh, how wrong you were. 

observing yourself in the mirror after a quick shower was something you had avoided recently. if not because you constantly felt like you were being watched, you avoided looking at yourself in the mirror because you hated the way you looked. the bags under your eyes seemed to sink deeper and have grown darker, your skin had become dull in color, and you could just tell that your body was starting to reflect the neglectful way you had been treating it. 

as you stretched your body around you soon realized red marks spread across your arms and waist. after giving the bathroom mirror a wipe to remove the condensation and to get a better look, it seemed like the marks resembled burns; even though you hadn’t burnt yourself. like most nights, you chose to ignore your insecurities and brushed off the marks on your skin. choosing to believe that maybe it was just a small rash from stress or your skin reacting a weird way to your clothes. any reason you could find so that your mind would stop thinking about it.

pulling your blanket all the way up to your chin and releasing a shiver, you soon found yourself drifting off to sleep, a smile on your face as thoughts of jake blend into your dreams. 

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you wake up gasping for air in the middle of the night. a dream that started out normal had suddenly turned into you fighting for your life as an unknown assailant wraps their hands around your throat in hopes of crushing your windpipes and omitting you from breathing in any oxygen. a mixture of coughs and heavy breathing fill your bedroom as you sit up, your hands instantly fly to your neck as a source of safety to ensure that no one was actually choking you. 

looking around the room in a frantic frenzy, you find no one as you rub your neck softly, the feeling of the person’s hands tightening around your throat felt so real. you close your eyes as your breath stabilizes. you try to fall back asleep but you fail as all you have on your mind is the image of the unknown figure who tried to kill you in your dreams. 

₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆☾ ☆ ☽‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆₊‧⋆˚｡⁺⋆₊☆₊⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☾ ☆ ☽₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆₊⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊

with your eyelids getting heavy, you were finally settling back into a slumber, but it was soon interrupted as the sunlight found its way through the smallest crack within your curtains. you tried to ignore the light and block it by pulling your blanket over your hair but the action itself takes you out of the comfort of your slumber and your mind is now too proactive to even think about the state of sleep you were on the cusp of. 

after closing your eyes and hoping that the sleep would find its way back in, you chose to just get out of bed, the lack of sleep and exhaustian somehow being the only thing keeping you up. your feet, heavy with exhaustian, dragged across your floor as you made your way into the bathroom. you passed the mirror, eyes barely open, as you hop in the shower. the scalding hot water burning your skin in the best way possible. 

you didn’t want to leave the shower because of the warmth and as you expected, as soon as you stepped out of the shower; the cold air nipped at your skin. you would typically walk by the mirror without even giving it a glance but something compelled you. as your gaze fell onto the fogged up mirror, you swiped the moisture away and realized the red marks on your arms from the night before had further progressed. going from a bright red blemish to a deeper more purple red. 

like it was a bruise. 

your eyes trail from the bruises on your arms to its reflection in the mirror, then to the dark bruises around your waist, and to your shock, bruises that had spread over your neck and throat. your hands instantly fly to your neck and although the bruises aren’t necessarily painful when you touch them; there’s a lingering sensation. 

like when someone grips your skin a little too hard and the skin in that area starts to feel like it’s being poked by pins and needles. the bruises were all the same color but different shapes and sizes. if someone saw you it would look like you had just gotten into a fight with someone or maybe even hit by a car. 

or perhaps like you had just fallen from a heightened point. 

you weren’t sure what to do with the new additions that now adorned your skin so you chose to cover up. deciding to wear a long sleever turtleneck to hide away even though you weren’t going to be seen by anyone. 

₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆☾ ☆ ☽‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆₊‧⋆˚｡⁺⋆₊☆₊⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☾ ☆ ☽₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆₊⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊

you set out for the day, it felt like you haven’t left your apartment or went past the building’s dumpster since you had gotten in town. you ran a few errands, getting groceries, checking out restaurants and cafes in the neigborhood, and overall trying to get familiar with the city. something you should’ve done a while ago. 

the city was surprisingly busy, filled with people who made the same decision as you, to run errands in hopes that because it was a weekday in the middle of the week, everyone else would be too busy with work or other responsibilities. you had finished your errands fairly quickly, your day in the town became a quick one after you decided that grabbing groceries and other necessities would be all that you needed to do. you’d check out all of the different restaurants and cafes another day when it wasn’t so busy. 

after putting your groceries in your trunk, a store comes into view as you close your trunk shut, a bright purple led sign that seemed to glow brightly even though it was midday. a fortune teller. you didn’t really believe in these things but you also didn’t not believe in them. something inside of you ushered you to the direction of the small storefront. the entrance being an old wooden door that fit perfectly for an establishment that did fortune telling. a small bell dings above the door as you enter and an old lady peers from the corner. you weren’t sure what to expect but this lady is exactly who you would think of as the person running the place. 

she had various patterened fabrics draped around her and a colorful skirt that had little gems and jewels that would reflect the light. she greeted you, but not with a normal greeting. 

“there’s someone trying to contact you child…” she says, annpuncing her observation even though you haven't even said anything to her. you gave her a confused look and she waved you over to sit across from her. as you take your seat she unsheathes a crystal ball that was previously hidden by a dark velvet fabric. the crystal ball seemed to lure you in, like it was calling out to you, she snaps her fingers and you break out of your trance. 

the lady shut her eyes and began to wave her hands in a rhythmic motion over the ball. you weren’t sure if you should just sit there in silence or say something but before you could even form a sentence, she began to speak again. “your future is clouded, you must watch out for what ties you to this earth, for it can easily cut you away from it.” she says, eyes slowly opening so she could see your reaction. you didn’t know what to make of her words so you stood up and muttered a small thank you. before you could turn away and leave, she grabs your wrist and puts something in your hands. you didn’t bother to look at the object in your hands until you got back into your car. a small dagger, no longer than 5 inches, with a snake wrapped around it. the snake's eyes were a red gem and it glistened in the sunlight. a part of you was a bit creeped out by it but you chose to just stash it away in your pocket. 

it begins to rain just as you’re parking your car. you quickly grab your groceries from the trunk and tiptoe to the lobby and just as you’re about to enter the building, you slip on a puddle. you quickly shut your eyes and brace for impact but suddenly a pair of toned arms are wrapped around you. when you slowly open your eyes, you’re met with a soft pair of smiling eyes, jake is looking at you with a warm smile. 

“i’ve got you.” jake says as he hauls you back up onto your feet. he picks up your groceries that have fell out of the bag and makes sure you’re alright. you give him a tighlipped smile and mutter a small thank you. too embarrassed to prolong the moment so you quickly shuffle into the elevator so you could hide away in your apartment. 

₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆☾ ☆ ☽‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆₊‧⋆˚｡⁺⋆₊☆₊⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☾ ☆ ☽₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆₊⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊

it seemed like every time you were in a small moment of distress, jake was there to save the day. 

when you almost fell off the roof.

when you slipped in the lobby.

another time when you were taking out the trash in the middle of the night and a person speeding by on their motorcycle almost hit you but jake suddenly appeared and pulled you off the street and into his arms, like a safety net.

the most recent moment being the incident in the elevator. you were making your way down to the lobby when the elevator stops at jake’s floor. as the door opens and you’re greeted with jake, the elevator suddenly drops a few inches and the lights flicker. you look at jake with a concerned look and when the elevator shakes again, you become frightful at the idea that the elevator would soon plummet to the first floor. 

jake, almost instantly, extends out his hand and you quickly grab it. he pulls you out of the elevator and as soon as you’re completely out of the metal box, the elevator falls to the ground floor. 

you fall on top of jake as he saves you. his arm around your waist to make sure you’re secure and safe as the two of you make contact with the floor. both of you out of breath and shaken up from the near death experience. 

you and jake stare into one another’s eyes and a smile spreads across his face. “you alright?” he asks, his thick australian accent causing butterflies in your stomach. you pull yourself off of him and the two of you get back onto your feet. “this is so embarrassing.” you say, brushing yourself off and jake chuckles at you. 

“don’t worry about it, love. happy to be your knight in shining arm.” jake says jokingly. you smile at his joke, not taking it seriously but you soon think about all the instances that he was your knight in shining armor. 

₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆☾ ☆ ☽‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆₊‧⋆˚｡⁺⋆₊☆₊⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☾ ☆ ☽₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆₊⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊

you’re in bed, once again trying to fall asleep, but the tingling feeling on your skin is keeping you up. the bruises on your skin eventually disappeared but every other few days they reappeared and seemed to just become more painful every time they returned. you angrily tore off your blanket to head to the bathroom and observe the marks on your skin that felt like they were burning you. 

you stumble into the bathroom, sloppily switching the lights on, and standing in front of the mirror. you felt like your skin was beginning to burn and the pain was becoming unbearable. you tore off your clothes to get a better view of the marks and your eyes widened at the sight of your body. deep red bruises scattered across your body, much worse than the first time you noticed them, only now it left a burning sensation. if you even touched them in the slightest or blew onto it, it burned even more. 

your bottom lip quivered at the pain and you stood there staring at yourself unsure of what to do next. you frantically looked for oinment in your medicine cabinet and lathered it all over your skin. occasionally letting out grunts of pain as your hands grazed over the blistering bruise marks on your skin. you quickly put your clothes back on and grabbed your keys and jacket, deciding to rush over to the nearest emergency room in your city. 

₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆☾ ☆ ☽‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆₊‧⋆˚｡⁺⋆₊☆₊⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☾ ☆ ☽₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆₊⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊

the drive to the e.r. was quick. good news, you were able to be seen by a medical professional as soon as you got there. bad news, they didn’t have an answer as to why or where the blemishes came from. they offered you a topical cream and some antibiotics in hopes that it would help with the pain, leaving you with advice and to just hope that it’ll go away on its own. 

you were only at the e.r. for about an hour and a half when the doctor dismissed you with well regards and a speedy recovery. you walked back to your car, skin feeling less irritated, but the sensation of pins and needles still remained on your skin. with a slam of your car door, you sat down in the driver’s seat with a huff. a mixture of anger, pain, and exhaustian taking over your body as you settle into your seat and put the key into the ignition. you didn’t know what to do or what to think but your mind suddenly goes to the exact moment you first noticed the marks.

and the next time.

and the next.

and the next.

all of which all had a similar and reoccuring factor. it was all after you had a bout of vulnerability that would’ve led to a great amount of pain. and each time; jake miraculously appeared and saved you. 

₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆☾ ☆ ☽‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆₊‧⋆˚｡⁺⋆₊☆₊⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☾ ☆ ☽₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆₊⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊

jake watched you creep towards the ledge of the roof. legs climbing over the railing and he smiled at the sight. excitement bubbling inside of him at the thought of you being so vulnerable and that he would be able to witness you in such a weak state. 

as he sees your fingers leave the metal railing, he charges towards you and pulls you to safety.

₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆☾ ☆ ☽‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆₊‧⋆˚｡⁺⋆₊☆₊⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☾ ☆ ☽₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆₊⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊

jake watched you, an adoring smile on his face as you tried your best to balance the groceries in your arms while trying to run inside and away from the run. he watched intently as you slipped on the puddle at the front of the lobby. just moments before, he left the front door open for a few moments to give the rain the opportunity to find its way inside and create the puddle. laughing to himself as he imagined you falling to the ground after slipping. 

just as he sees your body become parralel to the ground and the quick moment you are off your feet, jake materializes and catches you. offering you a warm smile that held something more sinister behind it. 

₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆☾ ☆ ☽‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆₊‧⋆˚｡⁺⋆₊☆₊⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☾ ☆ ☽₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆₊⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊

jake was surprised to see you out so late at night. he watched you from his bedroom window as you took out the trash. although it wasn’t a part of his plan, jake wasn’t going to pass up an opportunity to mess with you and strike fear inside of that pretty little head of yours. 

he watches, eyes following a man on a motorcycle just up the street and in the exact moment right before he collides with your unsuspecting body, jake appears and pulls you into his arms. once again saving you from danger. a smile spreads onto his face as you make your way back inside, amused at the idea of you being so naive and clueless. every vulnerable moment you’ve had was like entertainment to him. 

when he got back inside, heeseung was also walking in; a helmet in his arms as he arrived. jake scoffs and laughs at him. “thanks man.” jake says and heeseung shoots him a confused glare. unaware that he just helped him create a bit of chaos that would surely traumatize you. 

₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆☾ ☆ ☽‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆₊‧⋆˚｡⁺⋆₊☆₊⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☾ ☆ ☽₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆₊⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊

the elevator almost killing you also wasn’t a part of his plan and quite frankly he was very glad to have been there to save you or else their plans for the ritual wouldn’t have come to fruition. everytime he has saved you, jake embraces every moment of it. every moment that he touched you, he savored, and would crave. thinking about the next time he would get to do it again. 

each traumatic moment you endured through a shroud of vulnerability was all a part of jake’s plan to contribute to the brother’s plan to break you down. each time he touched you, it would leave a mark on your skin and the longer and more traumatic the event, the worse the burns and bruises would progress. 

like the marks on your body caused by jake were a physical representation of the trauma he was inflicting onto you. and he loved every second of it. 

₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆☾ ☆ ☽‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆₊‧⋆˚｡⁺⋆₊☆₊⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☾ ☆ ☽₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆₊⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊

jake found his way into your apartment as soon as you ran out. he assumed that in your frantic and urgent state, you forgot to lock the door, so he helped himself inside. 

he tried to recall jay’s words of how your apartment looked and where to dig through to try and find the diary. the object that the brother’s have been looking for since you had moved it but have failed to obtain. 

jake sifted through every part of your apartment that jay suggested and even in areas that weren’t on that list. just before he was about to give up, jake’s eyes just so happened to trail over your bookshelf and there he found the leather bound diary amongst all of your books. his usual smile now plastered onto his face as he grabs the book from your shelf. jake taps his fingers on the cold leather but halts in his spot when he turns around and is faced with you. 

he hadn’t heard you come in and he mentally scolds himself for not locking the door much like you did. a surprised but fearful expression on your face as you find jake in your living room. 

₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆☾ ☆ ☽‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆₊‧⋆˚｡⁺⋆₊☆₊⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☾ ☆ ☽₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆₊⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊

you trudged towards your apartment as you exited the elevator and when you go to reach for your keys in your bag, you find that your door is ajar. you crept inside and a gasp escapes your mouth as you seen jake turn around in the middle of your apartment; holding the diary that you had seen so many other times before. 

“wh- what are you doing in here?” you ask, voice slightly trembling as you recall all of the moments with jake before. now realizing that there was a strong possibility that he may be the cause of the burns and bruises that covered your skin.

you slowly make your way around the living room, afraid of what jake might do, but all he does is watch you from his spot in your living room. his once soft eyes now a deep shade of red, similar to the color of the marks on your skin. jake seems to be watching you like a preator and you were his prey. waiting for you to make your first move so he can pounce onto you. 

with a quick movement to your shelf, you grab a flower vase and throw it at him but he instantly dodges it. leaping over the couch and landing on top of you. his hands were now gripping your wrist with so much strength and soon the familiar feeling of your skin burning came back; proving your assumptions to be correct that jake was the cause of the burns and bruises as you watch the deep red color spread across your arms and darken the veins under your skin. 

you shriek in pain as jake smiles at your agony, his grip only getting tighter. he switches from holding each of your hands with both of his and now holds them above your hand with just one of his hands as he reaches for something in his pocket. he pulls out a white ribbon and admires you for a second.

“i love seeing you like this. so vulnerable and suffering.” he says, his face now merely inches from yours. you jolt your head forward, making contact with jake’s nose with your forehead and he winces at the pain. he shakes off the pain and begins to wrap your wrists with the white ribbon, now angry at your abrupt action. “you shouldn’t have done that, love.” jake says as he finishes tying your hands together. 

he sits you up once he’s done tying your hands and goes back to where he previously stood and bent over to pick up the diary. “you know y/n, you shouldn’t fight us off so much. just give in.” jake says as he picks up the broken pieces of the vase. “fuck, that’s sharp.” jake says as he brings his thumb up to his mouth to suck the blood after he cut himself on a shard of the vase. 

sharp.

you remember that the fortune teller had given you a knife so you reached for your jacket pocket as best as you could without alarming jake. he glances over at you and stop, thinking he has caught you but he turns away and you return to the knife. you flipped open the blade and began to cut at the ribbon but the more friction your skin felt against the ribbon, the more it seemed to burn you. you bit your lip to surpress the painful grunts and once the ribbon had finally torn, you breathed a sigh of relief. 

jake had his back facing you as he threw away the shards of glass into your trashbin. unaware that you had freed yourself and were now creeping up behind him. just as you raised your hand that had the knife in it, jay materializes into the room and tackles you to the ground. causing jake to stumble forward at the sudden commotion. 

jay was now atop of you and you feel a sense of deja vu, like you had been in the position before. he grabs a hold of your face and forces your eyes to bore into his. “sleep.” jay simply says and you become limp in his grasp as slumber quickly takes over your body. 

he sighs and gets to work on erasing your memory of the altercation, all the while scolding jake for not being more observant of your actions. “she really is a feisty one.” jake says, walking over to jay and helping him up. 

“i can see why you like her.” he adds and jay just rolls his eyes at his brother, not bothering to respond. 

₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆☾ ☆ ☽‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆₊‧⋆˚｡⁺⋆₊☆₊⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☾ ☆ ☽₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆₊⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊

the boys were now all gathered inside of your apartment. heeseung, jay, and jake stand around your coffee table staring down at the diary. the three of them glad to have finally gotten their hands on it. 

“we should burn it.” jake says and heeseung rolls his eyes at him after reminding him what happened when you tried that when you first got there. 

“let’s just lock it away where no one can find it.” jay says, picking up the diary. when he tried to flip through the pages, the book begins to burn brightly and suddenly disintegrates into ash.

the boys, dumbfounded, begin to bicker amongst themselves. jake blaming jay for ruining the diary, jay retorting that it wasn’t his fault and he didn’t do anything, and heeseung trying to get his two brothers to stop arguing. 

sunghoon saunters into your living room, briefly looking around as he’s had the least amount of time in there in comparison to his brothers. “alright!” he says, voicing booming into the room, catching the attention of his three older brothers. 

he walks past his brothers and picks you up from the couch. your limp and unconscious body now in his arms, “i’ll take care of the rest. go prepare the ritual site.” he says. he begins to walk away and athough he was the youngest of the four of them; they all followed his order, like he had some authority over them. 

₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆☾ ☆ ☽‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆₊‧⋆˚｡⁺⋆₊☆₊⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☾ ☆ ☽₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆₊⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊

sunghoon softly lays you down onto your bed. adjusting your pillow and pulling the covers over you to make sure you’re comfortable.

he brushes a few stray hairs off of your face and takes in your beauty. “soon.” he says with a pause. 

“soon, you’ll be ours.” he says, placing a kiss on your forehead. 

a kiss that doesn’t go unseen by jay as he watches it all happen through his omnicient vision. 

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copyright 2024 - present © hoonieyun all rights reserved

all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned.

[sakascal]

Infernal Intrigue and Heavenly Escapades - Chapter 7: Everything That Goes Down Must Come Up

This was written for the Good Omens (Small) Big Bang. (In accordance with Big Bangs rules the whole story is already up on AO3.)

The art for this story was created by the wonderful and talented Garden Variety Demon (you can find them embedded into the story on chapter 2 and 5, or here).

Rating E (for the entire story, the smut is at the end though)

Total Number of Words 67k (this chapter has about 5k)

Summary

It's 2001 and Aziraphale is in Heaven for a dreaded Performance Review. On his way out (finally), he comes across an oddly familiar looking angel...

or:

The jig is up. Someone - a lower-ranked demon - noticed Aziraphale and Crowley working together. And they have evidence. How will our heroes cope?

In this chapter: Alarms are blaring and Crowley is working hard to get Aziraphale out of Hell before anyone finds her. But will Crowley manage to avoid suspicion himself?

Excerpt:

“Crowley, wait up,” Dagon stopped him.

‘Shit.’ Couldn’t be good if Dagon held him back. The rest of his group left, already dismissed, while Dagon gestured him forward.

“When did you last see that sod Gaglumus?”

So, they knew about them. To be fair, he had expected this. They likely knew where the ethereal energy had originated from. Still, Crowley would have preferred to avoid any questions.

“Oh, earlier today, I think? I had just come back in with some receipts that Gaglumus had said were missing from the paperwork and brought them over to their little Hellhole of an office. But when I returned, I couldn’t find them anywhere.”

“That was when I met you on the way to the pit, right?”

“Yep,” Crowley pushed his hands deep into his tight pockets and tried to appear bored and unaffected by all of this. He had a lot of practice doing that.

“That was hours ago. What have you been up to since then?”

“I couldn’t find them, so I headed back up. Came back shortly before the sirens started blaring, to give them one last chance to actually be present before filling out a complaint form. The wanker had been planning to use an official summons to call me here for some missing information on a form and a few receipts - and then they didn’t even show up.”

The sirens stopped. The sudden silence, left his ears ringing with phantom noise, like an after image of a too bright light.

“Finally,” Beelzebub said before turning towards him. “I’m sure you could show us that official summons, if we were to ask you for it.”

“Of course,” Crowley made a show of looking through his pockets. He had squashed it back into his pocket an eternity ago at Aziraphale’s bookshop. But this could be an opportunity…

Read on AO3

Thank you to the Whickber Street Writers Association for being such a wonderful group of beautifully insane people. And to my wonderful beta readers @angie-words, @playdohangel and @sixshotsinatumbllr for all the help making this better, fixing the pronouns and various grammatical errors and fun reactions and comments! 💜

Kudos, comments and shares are very welcome here (and what we writers live on 😊).

[midwestbramble]

Alive With Spirits Book Review

I really enjoy a lot of what Althaea Sebastiani has to say about working with spirits on her online platforms so when I heard this book was coming out I was excited to read it. Animism is a core belief of mine and a large part of how I work in my witchcraft practice. I'm curious to see what else Althaea has to say.

⛧─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───⛧

Content:

Synopsis

What I Liked

What I Didn't Like

Overall Thoughts

Conclusion

⛧─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───⛧

Published 2024

"At the root of most spiritual traditions is the aspiration to realize one's birthright: the intimate connection with the Land and the spiritual energies that inhabit it. This connection with the Land and its spirits is perhaps nowhere more powerfully felt than in the various traditions of Paganism and witchcraft. But the conditions of modern society strain that relationship, leaving us feeling separated from our craft and unable to feel that deep and vital connection.

Discover a path to fully embrace a world filled with spirits, communion with the Land, and a greater sense of belonging in the world--a worldview known as animism. Explore animism in a hands-on way that teaches through firsthand direct experiences. Through embodied exercises based in wholeness, you'll learn to see the world more fully for what it is and to better understand your place in it.

Learn the three general types of local spirits

Explore the importance of relationships and what it means to be in community

Uncover the way that the wholeness of the world is reflected in the wholeness of the self.

Begin to nurture right relationships with your local spirits

Alive with Spirits provides you with a firm foundation from which to transform your witchcraft practice, rooting it into the Land and in strong, respectful relationships with the spirits around you."

-from the back of the book

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What I Liked

The first chapter of this book talks about what animism is. While the author uses information from Sir Edward Burnett Tylor's "Primitive Culture," she also points out the incredibly eurocentric issues of the book itself and how these issues continue to influence academic circles today which then get perpetuated within the witchcraft and pagan communities. I was very appreciative that Sebastiani thought to cover this aspect and that she made a point to stress that not all animism is the same. The animism of Native Americans will look different from the animism found in the Shinto of Japan or the Dreaming of Aboriginal Australians, though they may look similar from the casual observer.

The author and I have similar views on modern day witchcraft and the differences between it and folk magic. I very much appreciate that Sebastiani takes the time to talk about how the moniker of "witch" was used to oppress certain cultures and drive them out. Thus making it inappropriate to call every magical system witchcraft. It's definitely a title that you have to take on yourself and not put onto others.

Much of the book is about building the skill of witchcraft to be able to communicate with the spirits. Emphasizing that this is not a work one is born with, the same as being able to sing or paint. Even if you tend to be pretty good out the gate at these skills you still need to practice them to build familiarity and technique. In this way, there is a lot of emphasis put on building the skill of discernment, not only in, as the author says, "[pitting] the knowledge of courses and books (like this one!) against your personal experiences to find the truth they may-or may not-hold" but also in whether it really is a communication with a spirit or simply your imagination wanting to help you have an experience.

The first few chapters are about building your energy work skills which then go on to help you build to spirit communication and journeying. Sebastiani does not talk about energy in terms of masculine and feminine as many beginner books do, instead she talks about energy as pushing, pulling, or holding. She also talks about how energy and trance work is used in magical practice, whether you realize you're using them or not. Especially trance as we go in and out of different brain wave states (aka trance states) through out the day.

The rest of the book talks about spirits and being in community while continuing to encourage the practice of energy work and learning about your landscape. Community is a big aspect of animism, we are all connected in our actions whether we know each other or not. We are also individuals with our own wants and needs. The same goes for spirits. But spirits are everything, they have personhood, and the oak tree I talk to will not be the same as the oak tree you talk to. Just like when I talk with my co-worker from Mexico and my Sister-in-Law from Mexico, I am not talking to the same person. They both have the same cultural background, but different wants and needs and thoughts on different issues as well as different skills of their own. This is important to remember when connecting with more-than-human people. The importance of community is brought up throughout the book and how it's important to support your community; Sebastiani also makes mention of how this means allowing yourself to be supported and cared for as well.

She goes on to talk about three different kinds of spirits: those of the Land, house and building spirits, and man-made objects. Sebastiani is very big on "intention without actions means nothing in witchcraft nor in life." And I tend to agree. Here she is talking about actually being present physically to make a connection with the land, the river, the tree, etc. rather than trying to get them to choose a tarot card when they're thousands of miles away. Try as I may I won't be able to talk to the Nile river without actually going to Egypt. You need to physically connect to the land before you can spiritually connect to it. She gives easy to follow instructions on how to do that for those with and without physical limitations. The exercises are also written in several ways to give those of us with ADHD options.

I really enjoyed that the author made a point to say that the spirits are not here for us living humans. They are their own beings as I tried to iterate earlier. She talks about the guardian spirits of certain places, and how some areas have more spirits than others (with great tips on navigating these areas) depending on what has happened to that area. If I keep going I'm just going to end up rewriting the book. For the house and building spirits there's a lot of the same though due to their closer proximity there are other ways to connect with them. And man-made objects are given a stand as they are made of materials taken from the earth, so why wouldn't they have a spirit as well? Though new and harder to discern than those who have been around longer.

The chapter on journeying was very good in getting people started. Sebastiani talks about the why and how of it, what it has to do with communicating with spirits, as well as how the foundations set up earlier are built up to get you to the point of actually being able to journey forth yourself.

At the end of the book, the ongoing exercises have great conversation starting ideas for when you finally are able to get in touch with an amicable spirit as well as other exercises to continue working on or ones that can help you observe more of your environment. I also liked the tips on working with invasive plants.

⛧─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───⛧

What I Didn't Like

The take on the history of witchcraft, while good, wasn't as nuanced as I would have liked. There are many factors that went into the witch trials of the Early Modern Period in Europe and it's colonies. She just focuses on one of them, and while it's not the usual ones you see trying to victimize all women, it is still a narrow field of vision.

I also wasn't the biggest fan of Sebastiani claiming the spirits of deceased humans tend to be parasitic though she perhaps just meant when found in the "wilderness." The other aspects of her talking about deceased human spirits I did agree with.

Unfortunately this book has no bibliography or cited sources. She talks about evidence showing connection to the natural world is better for our health, and while I have found scientific studies and whole researched books dedicated to this subject, she cites none. I would have also liked to see citations for the evidence of when we enter trance states, which again I know is out there. The book is meant to go off of her own lived experience, but these still need citations or it just feels like we're making up what should be scientific information. A librarian would have been happy to help with this I'm sure.

⛧─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───⛧

Overall Thoughts

I think this would be a good book for anyone who wants to a walk their talk when it comes to living an animistic world view. It would also be good for beginners into spirit work. The vast majority of the book fit into my own practice and worldview to the point it felt as though she may have been spying on me. While the book is specifically on animism within a witchcraft practice, there is still room here for deities if you would so wish to continue working with them.

The exercises may feel unnecessary at first, or even too basic, but I would highly encourage working through them as you go through the book as the exercises after do build on these foundational skills. The author really wants you to have experiences and decide for yourself what works and what doesn't.

⛧─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───⛧

Conclusion

I do recommend this book and if you wish to check it out it can be found on Amazon, Red Wheel/Weiser, Musing Mystical, and more.

Other reviews:

Foreward Reviews

[k-nayee]

CHAPTER 5. THE RESULTS ARE IN

❝We know what we are, but not what we may be.❞

Vespertilio M.List

Previous | Next

ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ

The hum of machinery and quiet murmur of voices filled UA's faculty room as teachers gathered to review footage from the entrance exam.

Large screens lined the walls, each one displaying a different examinees from various angles with their quirks on full display.

And in the center of it all sat Principal Nezu: the mutant rodent's sharp gaze drifting, his paws tapping rhythmically against the chair as he intently watch the clips.

"Hmmm, very peculiar," Nezu mused, his eyes glinting with interest as he watched one particular feed. The camera zoomed in on a figure darting through the simulated city, dodging and weaving through the city.

Following his gaze, the other teachers' attention turned to the screen.

"She's... not fightin'?" Snipe was the first to break the silence, scratching his head beneath his cowboy hat. "Most kids dive straight into the action, but she's just...skirtin' around."

"She's not even going for the robots," Cementoss added, "More like avoiding them completely."

"Hold on...OH YEAH!!" Present Mic's booming voice cut through the air, making a few teachers jump in their seats. He leaned forward with a wide grin. "THAT'S THE LITTLE LISTENER WHO YELLED 'HEY!' DURING MY INTRODUCTION!"

Nezu's expression remained calm, a twinkle gleaming in his eyes.

"Indeed. Examinee #9948..." he announced. At that moment, small drones whizzed through the air, dropping thin folders onto each teacher's desk.

The sound of fluttering paper filled the room as each teacher picked up the document in front of them, opening it to reveal a student profile....your student profile.

Looking back at them was your smiling face. Subtle crinkles formed at the corner of your eyes from the soft smile you had as a pair of fangs peeked out from your lips.

Scattered through your [hair color] were clusters of delicate urn-shaped highbush blueberry flowers, a mark of your quirk's botanical side.

Nezu's voice carried over the hum of murmurs. "...also known as Akashiya ____."

An audible, dramatic gasp broke the room. Turning towards the source, Present Mic was there, mouth covered in shock as recognition dawned on his face. "AKASHIYA, YOU SAY?! PRESIDENT NEZU, YOU SURE THAT'S THE AKASHIYA?"

Practically bouncing in his seat, Mic whipped his head to his left. "SHOUTA! DID YA HEAR THAT?! YOU DON'T THINK THAT'S THE SAME AKASHIYA FROM—"

"Enough." Aizawa cut him off in his usual flat, deadpan tone. Leaning back in his seat, tired and disinterested eyes watch as you help a pair of students avoid the zero-pointer.

A flicker of recognition crossed his eyes at the sight of you, but nothing else was expressed.

It wasn't until the sudden color change of your hair to an almost eerie white and the your eyes glowed red, did his mask break with a raised brow.

More gasps and murmurs erupted around the room as the teachers watched in awe.

"OH WOW! DID YOU SEE THAT?!" Present Mic screamed as the footage showed you stomping down on the zero-pointer's arm, completely severing it with a single move. "SHE JUST—WHAM! THAT'S SOME REAL POWER, RIGHT THERE!"

Midnight smirked from her seat, twirling a lock of her dark hair between her fingers. "Well she certainly knows how to make an impression," she commented, eyes glued to the screen.

Ectoplasm, usually calm, chimed in. "For someone who didn't seem interested in fighting at first... she's got real combat potential."

As the faculty members buzzed with amazement at your display of strength, Aizawa's gaze drifted back to Nezu, who was already watching him with a knowing smile.

════════════════*˚＊✿❀༓❀✿＊˚*═════════════════

𝑻𝑾𝑶 𝑾𝑬𝑬𝑲𝑺 𝑳𝑨𝑻𝑬𝑹...

The next few days passed in a blur, and the tension around the UA exam results grew. You spent most of your time pacing your room, a pit of dread sitting deep in your stomach.

Your phone suddenly buzzed, startling you. It was Izuku.

 "____! I made it!" His voice was practically shaking with joy. "I got into the hero course!"

You forced a smile. "That's amazing, Zuki! I'm so happy for you!"

 "What about you? Did you get your letter yet?"

"...N-no, not yet. I haven't checked."

"Ah, well, let me know as soon as you do, okay? We'll hang out to celebrate later!" he said before hanging up. As soon as the call ended, your smile dropped, face falling into a grim expression.

"Let's hope I failed..." you muttered under your breath.

Your eyes drift over to where the unopened UA letter had been sitting, waiting until you knew of Izuku's fate before you found yours.

Approaching the desk, you eye the envelope as if it was about to bite you.

You didn't want to end up in the hero course. You never did. As much as the world loved heroes, as much as Izuku dreamed of becoming one—the idea never quite sat right with you.

General studies was where you wanted to be. Less attention. Less pressure.

 'I did the bare minimum,' you remind yourself. 'I should at least land in General Studies...'

With trembling fingers you rip open the envelope. A small device slid out, lighting up as it activated and a hologram of All Might himself appeared before you.

"Congratulations, young Akashiya!" His booming voice filled the room. "You've made it into UA's Hero Course!"

Your stomach drop.

"...Fuuuuuuuuuuuck."

You slump down onto the floor and clutch your hair in frustration with a racing heart and spinning mind.

"B-but how?" you stammered, your hands trembling. "I don't remember doing any of that..."

Almost as if hearing your confusion, the hologram continued, this time showing footage of the exam.

Your eyes widened as you watched various clips of yourself saving random students from tedious accidents and falls, even showing where you saved a pair of students—Kirishima and another unknown girl—from the zero-pointer.

'THEY FUCKING SCORED ME HELPING?!'

Then the image of Moka appeared; your hair shifting to a bright white before you kicked the massive robot away with terrifying strength and precision.

Your eyes remained glued to the display as you weakly let out a small "Oh..."

*˚＊✿❀༓❀✿＊˚*

You trudge down the stairs, each step heavier than the last. The reason for you being accepted was still pressing in your mind, the weight of it suffocating.

Your parents were seated on the couch chatting away, but quickly stop upon hearing your footsteps. Turning, your mother's face brightened at the sight of you.

"Honey! I-what's wrong?" The blank expression on your face makes her pause.

You stared at her, mouth opening and closing as you struggled to get the words out. Then suddenly, without warning, the dam burst.

"I... I got in..." tears stream down your face as you stood at the bottom of the stairs. "I got into the hero course..."

Your voice cracked at the confession, but your parents didn't notice the dread laced in your words.

Instead, they both lit up with pride and joy.

"Oh, sweetheart!" your mother exclaimed, rising from the couch and rushing over to you. "That's incredible! You did it!"

Your father follow close behind, pride gleaming in his blood red irises as he clasp a hand on your shoulder. "Looks like you're finally on your way to become a hero."

Their words hit you like a punch in the gut making your tears flow harder. Mistaking the breakdown for tears of joy, they pull you into a tight embrace.

"There, there," your mother coos, rubbing your back as she held you close. "I know it's overwhelming, but this is what you've been working so hard for."

You shook your head in denial, but the sobs kept coming.

You wanted to tell them. To explain that this wasn't what you wanted at all. But you couldn't.

You couldn't bring yourself to ruin the pride they felt for you.

And so, you cried as they held you with smiles, oblivious to the truth.

════════════════*˚＊✿❀༓❀✿＊˚*═════════════════

You solemnly walk alongside Izuku on the way to U.A. High, dragging your feet a little. The sky is clear and bright, but you can't seem to find it in yourself to enjoy it.

 It was like walking to your own doom, even though the greenette looked excited—too excited, if you're being honest.

"Isn't it amazing, ____?! We're finally starting at U.A.!" his voice was filled with joy, almost making you wince.

"Yeah... amazing," you muttered, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes. "Just...can't wait."

'I did the bare minimum. I shouldn't even be here.'

When you both entered the building, Izuku was already muttering up a storm. Normally you would've consoled him, offered some words of encouragement to ease his nerves.

But today? Today you were too bummed.

U.A. Hero Course...

How did you get stuck in this mess? You wanted to lay low, go unnoticed. And yet here you are, walking toward a future you never asked for. 

Opening the door to Class 1-A, noise hit you like a tidal wave.

The sight before you was all too familiar: Bakugo Katsuki, mid-scream, yelling at the blue-haired guy from the exam who had called out both you and Izuku. "WHAT DID YOU SAY TO ME, FOUR EYES?!"

Kirishima saw you the moment you walked in. His face lit up and he raised a hand to call your name.

But his excitement falters once he spots your quiet, almost defeated demeanor. Instead he lowers his hand, deciding to speak to you later when he has the chance.

"Oh, that curly hair!"

You and Izuku turn to see a girl at the room's entrance. You recognize her from before the exam, who saved you two from a nasty fall.

"You passed! Just like Present Mic said you would!" Her short brown hair bounced with her bubbly movements. Her grin was bright, big eyes shining with excitement. "I mean of course you did! Your punch was amazing!!"

Izuku's face turned bright red as he stumbled over his words. "I-I was? I mean, I was just trying to do my best—"

When she glanced at you, however, her confident demeanor shifted. "Oh! Um... h-hi!" she stammered, her eyes darting nervously between you and Izuku.

You noticed she was wearing the flower you'd given her weeks ago—except now it was decorated in her hair.

"Is that the flower I gave you?" you asked, pointing to it.

The brunette furiously blushed, subconsciously brushing her fingers against it. "Y-yeah... I, um, made it into a hairpin because... well, it's...nice." she mumbled, ending the statement in a quiet voice.

You blink in surprise, warmth flooding your chest. You hadn't expected her to cherish it like that. "You made that? Wow...looks pretty."

She malfunctions at your compliment, words tangle up in her throat. "T-thanks! Y-you're really p-pretty too!"

Before the situation could get any more awkward, 'Four Eyes' strode over with a serious face, as rigid as ever.

"Greetings! I am Iida Tenya from the Somei Private Academy! Midoriya, I see you've made it into the Hero Course. It seems you were aware that there was more to the entrance exam than just combat! That takes foresight and strategic thinking. I misjudged you!" He bowed stiffly.

And of course, the freckled boy panicked under pressure of the sudden praise.

"N-no, I didn't! I mean, I wasn't—It was just—!" He fumbled over his words while you subtly rolled your eyes, not bothering to acknowledge Iida's over-the-top demeanor.

Just then, a tired voice cut through the room. "If you're here to socialize, get out."

Everyone froze, including you. Slowly you turned around, looking for the source of the voice. At first, you didn't see anyone—then, you heard shuffling and looked down.

There on the floor, was a man in a raggedy yellow sleeping bag, sipping on a juice pouch like he had all the time in the world. His tired eyes barely opened as he took another sip.

He stood up sluggishly, as though he had just woken up from a particularly bad nap. "My name is Shota Aizawa. I'll be your homeroom teacher," he muttered.

Already you didn't like him. Interrupting Zuki's chance to make friends and social connections? Not cool.

Not to mention he seemed very uninterested in being there, which annoyed you for some reason.

"It's kind of sudden, but we're going straight into it: Quirk assessment test," his eyes lazily scan the room, but you could feel they were sharp.

The entire class tensed up, sensing the weight of his words.

Aizawa pulls out a stack of gym clothes out the sleeping bag and throws it on top of his desk. "Get dressed and meet up outside."

*˚＊✿❀༓❀✿＊˚*

Herded outside, Aizawa stood in front of the class, arms crossed and face blank.

You half-listened as he began to explain what was happening, that you'd be performing various physical tests using your quirks.

"This is a serious evaluation of your abilities. Don't screw around. And so, for a little motivator, the person who came in last would be kicked out ."

You perk up at that.

Izuku's face drained of color. You could practically feel the anxiety radiating off him, and for once you couldn't blame him.

He turns to you, clearly worried. "W-what are we going to do ____?! We can't get kicked out already!"

"Don't worry, I'm going to sit this one out. You just make sure to do your best, okay?"

"But—! You can't just—"

"I'll be fine, Zuki. Can't use my advanced abilities anyway unless this is taken off." Giving a sad smile, you tug at the rosary around your neck. "Besides, I need to know if I can handle myself without it."

That was a lie. You weren't doing this for practice.

You had no plans of staying at U.A., and this was your perfect way out. If you placed last, you'd be expelled. You'd gladly sacrifice yourself so he could stay.

The tests began, and true to your word, you barely tried.

50-meter dash? You jogged at a leisure pace. Grip strength test? You squeezed just enough to move the needle a few inches. Long jump? Just a  lil hop as a kid would when playing hopscotch.

When it came to Izuku's turn for the throw, you watched in confusion as he managed to hurl the ball incredibly far.

Your brows furrowed 'How the hell did he just do that? '

Something about it didn't add up. But you shook your head, deciding to worry about that later. 'Focus on getting kicked out first.'

Aizawa watched you the whole time, sharp eyes narrowing with every test. Kirishima, on the other hand, looked genuinely confused.

He had seen what you could do during the entrance exam—the way you'd saved people and destroyed the Zero Pointer with a single kick. Now, you were acting like you couldn't care less.

Finally the scores were displayed. And as expected, you were dead last.

"Well dang!" You clap your hands together as you jump up with a wide grin on your face. "Really wanted to stay, but it looks like I GOTS to go!"

With a pep in your step, you began to walk to the nearest exit. 

"W-wait! You can't just go! You... you don't have to do this!" Izuku's voice cracked as he shouted with tears brimming his eyes.

"She wasn't using her full quirk!" He reached for your rosary, his hand shaking as he tried to grab it. "If you just take this off, you can still—"

You jumped back before his fingers could touch the necklace, holding your hands up defensively.

"Whoa there!" You let out a nervous laugh, giving the greenette a light pat on the head. "You know I can't Zuki. I'd feel like a total cheater if I used my quirk now. That wouldn't be fair."

Izuku stared at you with quivering lips, clearly on the verge of begging Aizawa to let you retake the test with your vampire quirk side active.

He couldn't do this, not without you.

You rub his back, keeping up your fake disappointed smile. And though you hated seeing him like this, you had to stick to your plan.

Aizawa watched the scene unfold in silence, his tired eyes taking in everything as he processed everything. Then, he sighed.

Just as you were about to give Izuku another consoling pat on the back, Aizawa's monotone voice cut through the air. "Oh, and about the last person getting kicked out—"

You whipped your head up, glancing at him in confusion. Why was he dragging this out?

Catching the strange glint in his dark eyes, your face drops. 'No...no way...'

 He wasn't serious...was he? 

Aizawa's lips curved into a dark smirk as the panic spread across your face.

You glared at him. 'You wouldn't dare,' your eyes said.

Aizawa's grin widened as if to say, 'Oh, I would,' before delivering the finishing blow: "I lied."

For a second, everything was still. The the words finally sunk in.

"____'s not getting expelled?!" Izuku lets out a cry of happiness. Aizawa gave a nod in response, barely sparing a glance as you dropped to your knees with a wail.

You weren't getting kicked out....you weren't leaving. There was no getting out of this.

Tears began streaming down your face, you try to cover them to hide how distraught you were. Not that it mattered, to others it looked like tears of joy.

Izuku immediately knelt beside you, pulling your hands away from your face. "Hey, ____. Look at me! It's okay... it's alright... No need to cry," he said, voice soft and gentle.

You calmed down with a sniffle, managing a shaky and hesitant grin. "R-really?"

Your bestfriend nodded vigorously, his grin lighting up the entire field. "Yes! We can finally become heroes together!"

That fake grin you had crumbled and you couldn't hold back the loud ugly sobs that followed.

You were stuck here. You had to be a hero now.

Misunderstanding your feelings Izuku continued to console you thinking you were crying of happiness. "It's okay! We're gonna be heroes!" he repeated, voice filled with excitement for the future.

One by one the other classmates began to gather around, offering words of encouragement and patting you on the shoulder with words of "You've got this!" or "We're a team!"

Bakugo could only stand off to the side, arms crossed and looking thoroughly unimpressed. "What a bunch of extras," he grumbled under his breath. Todoroki, equally unamused, kept his distance.

Through all of this, Aizawa watched, munching on a bag of popcorn. Where he got the popcorn? No one knew, but he was clearly enjoying himself.

And so, your new life at U.A. had officially begun. Whether you liked it or not.

[raikiriwolfwrites]

Bitterness Sweetened by Your Lips

Zara's in Treviso, vengeance is at hand and familial ties are tested.

Enby RookxLucanis

Warning for Bloodbath mission

Chapter 8 - Blood and Bonds

Read on AO3

Rook was used to walking into a variety of situations in the dining hall. Various mixes of companions chatting, drinking, competing in some challenge someone had thought up, wisps rearranging things, Spite trying to eat things he shouldn’t, the list went on.

This was a new one.

They stepped into the dimly lit room to find Lucanis standing over a note on the table, expression dark and brooding, a small collection of knives embedded erratically into the table’s surface.

“This is ominous…”

“Viago found something.”

“Something bad, I take it?”

“Venatori in Treviso. Like I thought. One of them might know where Zara is. Viago has Crows watching them. We find them, we find Zara.”

Rook moves in closer and places a hand on his arm when he readily accepts them into his space. Their voice is filled with grim promise.

“Everything she did to you… We’ll make her pay, Luca. Side by side.”

They receive a small grateful look as he presses into the contact.

“We just have to get this done. I’m not losing anyone else. We’ll only get one shot at this. We’ll go when you’re ready.”

“We prepare tonight, and then head to Treviso first thing.”

-----

The walk through the crossroads was quiet. Lucanis was focused, drawn taut like a bowstring with anticipation.

Rook was the first to break the silence as they boarded the boat for the Caretaker to ferry them across the floating islands.

“Thank you for the dossier by the way, it’s good to know what we’re facing. If she is there, how many of her closest allies are likely to be in tow?”

Lucanis startled out of his brooding silence at Rook’s question.

“You read it?”

Rook seems confused at the surprise in his voice.

“Yes? You made it for me to read, didn't you… why wouldn’t I?”

“Illario never used to. He would just get me to tell him myself.”

They nudge his shoulder gently with their own where they sit pressed against him, voice a low rumble by his ear.

“Well if you want to read them to me in future, I’ll never complain about hearing your voice.”

Lucanis swats at their thigh lightly but he can’t deny the way the chuckle that elicits lightens his mood from the dark pit it had gone down thinking of Zara.

“Once we take down Zara, I’ll read you whatever you like.” His serious countenance returns. “But as for your question. I only listed the ones I personally know of, she would have at least a few of them with her at all times. If we come across one of them, then we’ll know she’s close.”

-----

Lucanis looked as surprised as Rook to see Illario standing across from them on the Treviso rooftops. They eyed him warily, glancing between the two Dellamortes. Illario had his usual confident, peacock facade in place, mirrored in his tone.

“I’m coming with you, cousin. No arguments.”

Rook is glad to see that Lucanis doesn’t agree with him. Something doesn’t seem right and they don’t want to be watching out for Venatori and Illario during this mission.

“This is my job.”

“This is Crow business.”

They don’t miss the dark look Illario throws their way at the mention of Crow business. Zara is Lucanis’ business, and that makes it Rook’s too, Crow or not. But they hold their tongue, this is his call to make.

“How did you even know we’d be here?”

“Rook! Always a pleasure. Touring the city with my cousin? You must allow me to show you the sights.” Illario deflects flirtatiously and Rook can’t help the bubbling unease growing in their gut at his behaviour, his words and tone unwanted and cloying.

They don’t have time to deal with this now. Zara is within reach and Lucanis deserves some closure. Their voice is hard, refusing to be drawn into Illario’s theatrics, now of all times.

“Lucanis told you not to come.”

“This isn’t your type of job cousin. There’s no one you can charm into dropping their guard. Only fanatics. All you can do is get yourself killed.”

That hit a nerve. They watch his mask start to crack around the edges, but he still holds it together admirably.

“You think I’m not good enough?”

“Are you?”

“Fine. Have it your way, cousin. You know best.”

“Let’s go, Rook. Zara is waiting.”

Rook casts one final look back at Illario as they make their way over the rooftop and catch a dark glower aimed at their backs before his more affable mask slots into place when he sees Rook looking, sending them off with a smirk and a cheery wave. It unsettles them, but Illario is a problem to deal with after Zara is dead.

-----

Lucanis grimaces and pinches his brow. “Blood magic nearby. A lot of it.”

He feels a hand smooth over the back of his head and a faint wash of Rook’s magic soothes the worst of the ache. He shoots them a brief grateful smile before returning his attention to the solid door before them. Taking a deep, bracing breath, he reaches forward to push it open.

He almost wishes he didn’t.

The corridor beyond is dimly lit and littered with desiccated corpses tossed against the walls. The stench of decay is almost overpowering, settling thickly in the stagnant air.

“How nice of Zara to leave a trail for us to follow.”

Even Rook’s usual levity is strained at the horrifying display before them. Neither of them were unfamiliar with the darker corners of the world, but the scale of this was beyond even the heedless cruelty of the power hungry magisters he usually faced.

They share a determined look before stalking down the corridor, side by side, blades drawn.

The bodies pile up higher the further they go, rotting husks carelessly thrown into every corner, and the tang of iron in the air grows stronger amidst the fetid decay. Lucanis presses a hand to the final door. The source of the blood magic is on the other side. The backs of his eyes ache fiercely at the proximity, despite Rook’s earlier help.

“She’s here.”

A hint of Spite’s growl is present in his voice, both of them itching to make. Her. Pay.

He feels the fleeting pressure of Rook’s hand on his lower back, and the reassurance that they’re in this with him strengthens his resolve further.

He pushes the door open.

He had seen more than his share of Venatori cruelty; until the Ossuary he had thought Forfex would be the worst. But Zara had outdone even the horrors and torment of those. The sheer number of bodies outside should have been a clue, but the size of the blood pool sitting in the centre of the room was staggering and horrifying in equal measure. How many had died here to fuel Zara’s cruel ambition. It didn’t matter. There wouldn’t be any more once they were done here.

At the sound of the door creaking open, she turned to them with a smile, rising from the crimson depths like it was a pleasant bath. A layer of blood clung to her like a grotesque mockery of armour as she waded out to the shallows of the pool to greet them.

“Lucanis. It’s terribly uncivilised to drop in on a lady unannounced. Now the evening’s ruined.”

Rook spoke up from beside him, their voice lacking any of its usual warmth. A cold fury to contrast with his and Spite’s blistering rage. “You’re going to pay for everything you’ve done.”

“Spoken like a true peasant.”

“You’re mine Zara! This ends with my knife through your heart!”

He lunges, blades first, wings bursting from his back to thrust him forward with a vengeance. They connect with a clash as Zara summons her own blades from the blood around her, but the force pushes them both further into the pool as the fight begins in earnest.

-----

Rook’s thighs were aching from wading through the blood surrounding them, the only consolation that as the fight wore on it became easier, Zara’s supply growing thinner as she channelled more and more of it to keep up with Lucanis’ unending flurry of blades. The pool was down to a sticky film lining the space, clinging weakly to the bottom of their boots as they kept the latest wave of Venatori off Lucanis’ back so he could focus on Zara.

As they stunned the final warrior with a blast of lightning from their orb long enough to slit his throat, they watched the match between Lucanis and Zara drag on. His sword was gone, a lone dagger still swiping and stabbing at her ferociously. But she was weakening, without any blood left to fuel her she was growing sloppy and desperate, it would only take one momentary lapse for Lucanis to slip through her defenses.

She was fending him off so desperately now that she didn’t seem to notice all her backup was gone, and Rook took the opportunity to slip around behind her. They took aim and fired one last chain of lightning into her back, her dwindling barrier shattered under the force and the lightning coursed through her. She seized in place, weapons clattering uselessly to the floor as her muscles twitched helplessly. That was all the window Lucanis needed. With a snarl he gripped her by the throat and hurled her into the nearest pillar. She cried out, collapsing into a crumpled heap at the base.

Gone was the facade of youthful beauty. All her energy spent in the battle left her with nothing to fuel her glamour. She looked older, more frail, as she tried to find her feet, clutching at the pillar to help support her as Lucanis stalked closer. The strength to fight in her gone, she turned to words to try and weasel her way out of her fate.

“So serious, Lucanis! Why don’t we talk? I can tell you much about Venatori…and our pet Crows.”

Spite reared his head, no interest in pretty words, he was here for their vengeance. “No. I want. Her heart. Quivering. On our knife.”

“You want to know who betrayed you, don’t you? Who sent you to the Ossuary?”

Her words were enough to bring Lucanis back, but there was an obvious strain clipping his voice. “Talk.”

“I knew you were–”

A dark shadow drops down from the ceiling, cutting Zara off. A familiar figure in crow leathers.

“Illario!”

He spares Lucanis a fleeting glance before advancing on Zara. “I told you. This is Crow business.”

Zara’s face changes from the scared pleading she had thinly veiled behind bravado, to a look of almost relief? “Amatu—“

He whips out a hand and the crunch of her neck snapping stops her finishing the word, but it was enough to make Rook’s blood run cold.

Amatus?

“No! Mine!”

Spite’s howl of rage echoes around the chamber, jolting Rook back to the present situation. With a violent snap of his wings, Spite throws Illario off his feet, the concussive shock whipping the air around them. He leaps onto Illario’s prone form, eyes blazing with otherworldly fury as he snarls, knife aimed straight for his throat.

Illario manages to hold him back with an arm braced against Spite’s blade arm, but it trembles under the strain.

Rook watches helplessly as the blazing violet in his eyes flickers, Lucanis struggling to regain control of his body. Spite is too strong in his rage, there’s a hint of brown irises in the glow as he turns beseeching to Rook. “Get Illario…out!”

“What? No!” They take a hesitant step forward, not sure how to intervene, but desperately wanting to help Lucanis.

“Rook. I can’t.”

The desperation in his face and voice is heartbreaking, drawn tight with pain and the strain of trying to hold Spite back. His cry of pain shoots straight through Rook’s heart.

“That’s enough!”

Illario roars as his free hand comes up to the brooch on his chest, with a sickly flare of red Lucanis is thrown off him. There’s only the faintest limning of purple around Lucanis’ eyes now as he collapses on his back, trembling and panting heavily.

“Lucanis!”

Illario gets swiftly to his feet, Lucanis raising himself up on unsteady arms as Rook starts to run over. Before they can reach him, they watch as Illario raises a hand, the same red haze surrounding his palm as he directs it at Lucanis.

“Relent.”

Rook drops to their knees, sliding the last few feet across blood-slicked stone to catch Lucanis as he flops back towards the ground like a puppet with cut strings. Rook pulls Lucanis into their lap, cradling his head gently. The feel of him still breathing, pulse slow, but strong, loosens the vice that had tightened around their chest. Sure that Lucanis was ok for now, they shoot a sharp look at Illario.

“What did you do to him?”

“Nothing. I don’t know what happened any better than you. You have to get him out of here. Rook. Keep him away. From Treviso. From the Crows. He’s a danger to the family.”

They narrow their eyes at him, how could he possibly try to play the innocent card after what they just saw. The feel of Lucanis stirring in their arms cuts off their sharp retort. They hear Illario’s footsteps retreating as their focus returns to the man below them, he can be dealt with later.

They cup Lucanis’ face, smearing some blood on his cheek in the process, as his eyelids start to flutter. His eyes slit open, brows furrowed, mouth parting as a weak “Rook?” escapes his lips. The relief that whatever Illario did to him didn’t seem to have caused him too much harm was too much and they can’t help but surge forward and claim his lips with their own. They feel Lucanis reciprocating weakly before they pull away. His eyes seem brighter but everything that happened must have taken its toll. He groaned softly, swaying where he had started to sit himself more upright, before his eyes rolled back and he went lax again in Rook’s arms.

After giving him a quick once over, their basic healing magic enough to confirm there was nothing more serious; they ascertained that physically he was fine, if exhausted, and carried him over to the less blood-soaked tile near the door. laying him gently down before scanning the room.

They walk around the space, searching the Venatori nearby in case they had any more information about where they were holed up in Treviso, find Lucanis’ lost sword where it had skittered into a corner during the fight and pick it up, and return to where he’s laying on the floor.

They wipe the blades down on a Venatori robe as they pass before slotting his sword and dagger into their sheaths. Everything safely in place, they gently gather him up into their arms. Thankfully the Crow roads would keep them mostly out of the public eye, they were sure to make quite a sight carrying an unconscious Dellamorte and with the amount of blood still dripping from the both of them.

Cradling Lucanis’ body securely to their chest they start to make their way back to the Diamond. Teia would be able to send someone to collect Zara and clear up the rest of her mess. They just needed to get Lucanis back to the safety of the Lighthouse so he could rest.

-----

After a brief explanation to the others, Rook got Lucanis to the pantry. He remained a dead weight, not even Spite stirring, as Rook went about stripping him of his armour, cleaning off the worst of the blood, and getting him into something more comfortable to put him to bed.

Unwilling to stray too far until they knew he was alright, they cleaned themself up quickly and settled at the foot of the cot, back against the wall. Rook had snagged a well worn romance novel from Lucanis’ small bookshelf to keep them entertained while they waited, but between the exhaustion of the day fighting across Treviso and worry over Lucanis and Spite, they were drained. They hadn’t made it more than a few pages into the book before it was falling into their lap from lax fingers, the sound of Lucanis’ soft, even breaths in the warmth of the small room lulling them to sleep.

-----

Rook awoke to the smell of coffee, their cheek pressed to warm fabric over something more solid than a pillow. In fact the warmth spread down their whole left side. The coffee scent grew stronger as their pillow shifted, the sounds of quiet sips and a soft sigh of pleasure washing over them.

“Lucanis?”

Rook stays where they’re resting against him, despite the slight crick in their neck, but snakes an arm around his waist to hold him closer.

“Hmmm?”

“You’re awake.”

“Yes.”

He pauses, Rook opens their eyes to the dim candlelit room as they feel Lucanis tensing beneath them, but he eventually continues.

“I’ve been trying to figure out what to say to you. And…there aren’t enough words to apologise. I never wanted you to see me like that.”

They squeeze their arm around him tighter. “And yet, I’m still here.”

They lapse into a comfortable silence for a while as Lucanis finishes his coffee and Rook relishes in having him conscious and close.

Eventually he places his cup off to the side with a weary sigh and Rook finally relinquishes his shoulder to stretch their neck out and face him properly. He looks troubled, a familiar crease gracing his brow.

“We need to talk about Illario.”

Illario. Rook tries to keep the disdain from their voice as they recall what he had said before he fled.

“…He wants you to stay away from the Crows. He…thinks you’re a danger to your family.”

“He’s not wrong. If I cannot stay in control. He used blood magic to control Spite.”

“You’re both feeling fine now though?”

He nodded and patiently accepted Rook’s scrutiny before they continued.

“He’s not a mage, how could he be using magic?”

“I don’t know, but…something’s not right.”

“That night you were captured, did Illario know you were boarding that ship?”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t say anything because he’s your cousin, but…I’ve had a bad feeling about him ever since that first meeting when we went to recruit you and Caterina told us you were still alive.”

“For his sake, let’s hope you’re wrong.”

“Zara is dead. After everything she did to me. To us! It should have been my knife that finished this. Illario denied me that.”

Rook took a deep breath, Zara had given them something that solidified their niggling distrust of Illario, and they needed to tell him.

“Lucanis…I know you’ve done a lot of work in Tevinter, how much Tevene do you know?”

“Well the people I’m visiting aren’t usually happy to see me, so mostly insults I imagine.”

The change of topic seemed to bemuse him and Rook almost didn’t want to say what they heard. But Lucanis deserved to know.

“Before he killed her, Zara called Illario Amatus…”

He cocked his head in thought. “That’s not one I know, what does it mean?”

They moved in closer, cupping the side of his face gently.

“I’ve never said it out loud, but it’s what you are to me. It’s what you call a lover, or a romantic partner.” They watch the emotions flit across his face, ending in a bitter understanding. “I’m so sorry Lucanis, but I think he’s the one who betrayed you to Zara, and how the Venatori made it into Treviso so easily.”

“Illario, what have you done?”

“Whatever it is, I’ll be there to help you fix it.”

Lucanis tangled a hand in their hair to pull them close and brushed a soft kiss against their lips.

“Thank you, Rook.”

[badbatchposts]

Quiet Corners of the Galaxy, Ch. 25

Relevant tags/content warnings: Crosshair/Original Female Character, Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Periodic Smut, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use, 18+/Explicit

Read the full fic so far on AO3

Read previous chapters on Tumblr: Ch. 1 l Ch. 2 l Ch. 3 l Ch. 4 l Ch. 5 l Ch. 6 l Ch. 7 l Ch. 8 l Ch. 9 l Ch. 10 l Ch. 11 l Ch. 12 l Ch. 13 l Ch. 14 l Ch. 15 l Ch. 16 l Ch. 17 l Ch. 18 l Ch. 19 l Ch. 20 l Ch. 21 l Ch. 22 l Ch. 23 l Ch. 24

Chapter 25 summary: The squad copes with the discovery of the missing clones, and Crosshair learns more of Dara's backstory.

Extra content warnings for this chapter: blood/injury; grief; corpses/mass grave

Crosshair couldn’t tear his eyes away from the spot where Dara was rooted to the ground, kneeling over a pit containing the remains of the clone prisoners. He couldn’t see what she was looking at from this angle, but he knew it wouldn’t be pretty.

“I—I think you should take Omega back to the ship,” she told Hunter over the comms. “She shouldn’t see this.”

The Sergeant sighed, a tired, defeated sound. “Understood. Come on, kid—we’ll go get the Marauder for a pick-up while the rest of the squad finishes up here.”

If Omega had any objections, she wasn’t voicing them over the comm line as she and Hunter made their way through the forest in the direction of their ship. It would be a few hours before they could return with the Marauder, hopefully arriving around the time of the planet’s early sunset.

Dara still hadn’t moved. “Can the rest of you find some shovels and come to my position?” she requested weakly. “Kriffing Imperials just tossed them in the garbage pit. They didn’t even have the decency—” She cut off suddenly, clearing her throat.

“Affirmative. We’ll be there in a few minutes,” Echo let her know. Through his scope, Crosshair saw Dara finally get to her feet, staggering over to a nearby tree. She held herself propped against it for a minute, then—with a sudden violence that made him flinch—crashed her fist against the bark, over and over, until her blows steadily grew weaker and stopped. Then she was motionless again, fist still clenched, breathing heavily. Her shoulders remained tense, but her face was turned away from him—he couldn’t help but think that it felt deliberate, like she was guarding her expression from his gaze.

Tech, Echo, and Wrecker arrived just as Crosshair climbed down off the roof. Dara took one of the shovels, picked a spot a sufficient distance away, and started digging without a word as the rest of them leaned over the pit. There were bones scattered around its edges, no doubt the result of animal activity; in the pit itself, skulls, femurs, and rib cages were all easily identifiable, emerging from corpses in various states of decomposition, all mixed in with the facility’s other refuse. Wrecker lifted his helmet off for barely a second before he gagged and slammed it back on his head; Dara had pulled off her soiled poncho and wrapped a scarf from her pack around her face and nose. While Tech and Echo worked on disinterring the bodies from the pit, separating them from trash and giving the loose bones some semblance of order, Wrecker and Crosshair joined Dara and set to digging. They were silent for over an hour, interrupted only by the occasional grunt.

“Dara,” Tech called suddenly. He was standing by the pit, holding a small bone, entirely cleared of flesh. “Will you pass me your glow rod?”

She took a break from digging and dug it out of her pack, tossing it to him before returning, without comment, to her task.

Tech disappeared into the facility for a few minutes, returning with a look of grim satisfaction.

“It is just as I suspected,” he informed them. “The remains also glow in the ultraviolet spectrum. We can infer that the substance that we discovered was being tested on the clones.”

The rest of the men straightened up from their tasks and climbed out of the pit and the new grave they were in the process of digging, taking advantage of the distraction to take a few sips from their canteens and open ration bars at a distance from the stench of decay. Dara, however, didn’t even turn to look, just continued to remove dirt by the shovelful.

“So was it the chemical that killed them, or did the Empire just dispose of them when they decided they’d served their purpose?” Echo wondered darkly.

“It is difficult to tell,” Tech admitted. “So far I have not identified any injuries to the bodies consistent with violent deaths, although the advanced state of decomposition makes that challenging to determine. I have, however, scanned several samples and should be able to analyze them later to find out more.”

“How many are there?” Wrecker asked, his expression uncharacteristically grim.

Echo shook his head sadly. “Dozens. Probably everyone on the list that we found.”

As the three continued their discussion, Crosshair watched Dara, who was still digging at an incessant, even punishing pace. Sighing, he dropped back down into the wide, deep grave they’d managed to carve out of the soft earth. They had made good progress, although they still had a while to go before it would be sufficient for a burial.

Crosshair approached her cautiously, like a wild animal. His earlier avoidance no longer mattered to him, his resentment all but forgotten. There was something off about her, a palpable tension that threatened to uncoil at any moment.

“Burk’yc,” he said, as gently as he could. “Take a break.”

“I’m fine,” she muttered.

“No, you’re not,” Crosshair insisted. “At least get something to drink.”

“I said I’m fine,” Dara snapped back, finally turning to look at him for the first time all day, only to shoot him as venomous a glare as he’d ever seen from her. She dragged the back of one hand against her forehead, wiping away sweat and dirt. As she did, he caught a glimpse of her palm: a long gash leaked a trail of blood that smeared along the handle of her shovel. The skin around it was already blistered and broken, red and raw, and her knuckles where she had hit the tree were bruised and bloody.

At the sight of her injuries, Crosshair felt his stomach drop. It was obvious, from the moment she had found the pit, that she was distressed—none of them were pleased, this was a worst-case scenario for what they expected to find—but he hadn’t realized how far she would push. Somehow, against all logic, he was more worried for her safety now than he had been when she was shot. Did she even realize she was hurt? Couldn’t she feel it?

“You’re obviously not fine,” he growled, crowding closer to her and grasping at her hands. He turned them palms up, trying to get a better look past the blood and dirt. Her other hand didn’t look much better, and he winced when he noticed tiny shards of transparisteel still clinging to the skin. “Did this happen when you fell?”

Dara stared dumbly at her wounds for a moment before trying to shake him off. “It doesn’t matter.”

Crosshair only gripped her more firmly by the wrists. “This can wait. You need to—”

“I don’t need to do anything,” she interrupted, pulling away violently. “I’m fine, just— just let me keep digging.” She grabbed her shovel from where it had dropped at her feet and made to continue.

“Just stop!” Crosshair commanded, temper boiling over. “You’re not a clone. They’re not your brothers, they’re ours, so don’t pretend like it’s your job to bury them. Take a kriffing break so I can fix your hands, now!”

Dara did stop at that, fingers flexing around the handle of the shovel as she glared straight back at him. She looked like she was deciding whether to yell at Crosshair or punch him. Finally, she threw down her shovel and shoved past him, scrambling out of the hole. She grabbed her pack on her way past and stalked into the forest without a backwards glance.

Crosshair turned to where his brothers were staring down at him disapprovingly and crossed his arms.

“What?” he barked. “I was trying to be nice!”

Wrecker frowned. “Well, ya did a terrible job.”

Crosshair threw his hands up in exasperation. “I don’t know what her problem is!”

“Ah,” Tech began matter-of-factly. “It is likely that she is experiencing some acute psychological distress. Her discovery of this mass grave has, in all probability, reminded her of the Empire’s massacre of her home village.”

The others blinked at him, stunned. “Tech, how was I supposed to know about that?” Crosshair finally demanded.

Tech tilted his head. “Oh—yes. I forgot to inform you all of what I had discovered of Dara’s biography once we learned her birth name.” He cleared his throat and frowned down at his datapad as he pulled up the relevant file and began reading. “Keranji Daranjal, born on Onderon, childhood friend of Steela and Saw Gerrera. Attended university in Onderon’s capital city, where she began advanced graduate training in linguistics, specializing in non-human, primitive cultures. She has published some quite fascinating studies, in fact—”

“Get to the point, Tech,” Echo interjected.

“Ah, of course,” Tech acknowledged. “Apologies. Dara’s research was interrupted during the Clone Wars when her mentor, the linguist Palo Bragus, was gunned down by Separatist droids during a public demonstration. She then abandoned her studies to join the Gerreras in the formation of their insurgent group. After they succeeded in reinstating the former king, she left Onderon; a little over a year ago the Empire sought her out as a means to track down Saw. The village where she and the Gerreras grew up was burned down in the attempt to locate her. Many of the villagers were killed…including Dara’s only family: a brother, sister-in-law, and their two children.”

He cleared his throat again, glancing up at his brothers. “The Empire now has Keranji Daranjal listed as deceased, so I can only presume that she faked her death shortly afterward. As far as I know, Dara has never been back to Onderon. She never had the chance to bury her dead.”

There it was, then: everything Dara had built all those careful walls to protect, the origins of her rage and her grief, what Crosshair had been so eager to see exposed. A war she had fought in and survived, only for more utter violence and destruction to come when she thought it was all over. Death upon death upon death, and at the center of it all, Dara, still alive, but alone.

Her story was a lot like that of the clones, in fact. And he had somehow managed to rub it in that these weren’t even her corpses to bury. 

The men avoided eye contact. Tech and Echo had done the best they could with removing the bodies from the garbage pit and had stacked them reverently to the side of the grave, awaiting their new resting place. They joined the others as they returned to digging, though Crosshair kept glancing out towards the forest, where Dara had disappeared.

Wrecker laid a hand on his shoulder. “She’ll be alright,” he murmured.

The sun was setting and they could hear the Marauder’s approach by the time Dara returned, carrying a wide, flat stone. Though the hole they’d managed to dig was no monument to wealth, the bodies of the clones were now safely blanketed in soil, deep enough to protect them from further disturbances, animal or otherwise. The squad stood quietly by the grave as she approached and knelt, gently laying the stone at its center.

Her hands somehow managed to have gotten worse, Crosshair noticed. Still, she didn’t seem to feel the pain, only clenched her fists, rose, and went to the ship without a word. On the stone, she had painstakingly carved a one-word epitaph for the clones, the Aurebesh letters rustic and clumsy. It read:

Brothers

Tag list: @stardusthuntress @skellymom @megmegalodondon @somewhere-on-kamino @morerandombullshit @zahmaddog @flaming-dumpster

Thanks again to @cloneflo99 for the amazing banner!!!

[heqvenlymoons]

The Fragile Threads of Time [0]

It's called chapter 0 but it's really just the prologue.

The Fragile Threads of Time Masterlist | AO3

Chapter 0: The Keystone Event

It had been a few months since the enigma known as Marinette Dupain-Cheng wreaked havoc in Damian’s life through living at Wayne Manor because of the exchange program. 

According to her words, she moved to Gotham of all places to study fashion at Gotham Academy. 

It made no sense because wasn’t Paris the best place to study fashion due to its rich history in the industry? 

So why Marinette would move from a city with adequate fashion schools to Gotham was something Damian could never understand. 

(A voice in the back of his head that sounded suspiciously like Todd was saying “You could understand it if you talked to her like a normal person would instead of creepily observing her from afar.”) 

Because of her vague explanations, Damian found her suspicious at first, opting to glare at her and watch her every move like a hawk. 

His father hadn’t even conducted the usual thorough background checks, justifying that Marinette was the niece of an old friend of his and insisting they respect her privacy. 

For some reason, Marinette seemed to be immune to his glares. She kept their conversations short and to the point every time they interacted.

After around a week of closely observing her, Damian was left with more questions than answers. 

Marinette was just too… nice. She regularly whipped up baked goods for his family and she could handle his imbecile brothers like a pro. 

She practised trapeze with Grayson, occasionally sparred and, much to his Father’s dismay, learned how to shoot various types of guns with Todd.

She also solved cold cases with Drake while working on her designs during their late-night insomniac hangouts. 

Damian found himself at times discussing art mediums and his pets with her. 

She engaged in conversations with his extended family members tailored to their interests and hobbies, fearlessly called out Father on his ‘Brucie’ act, and remained persistent in offering help to Alfred in preparation for meals despite his pseudo grandfather’s refusals. 

His adopted siblings had been immediately charmed by her, even Father and Alfred were impressed. 

Within a few months of Marinette living in Wayne Manor, she had managed to warm her way through the hearts of his family, and though he would never admit it out loud, his as well.

Marinette might not have realized it but her presence seemed to be what his dysfunctional family had been lacking. 

Damian noticed Todd’s madness caused by the Lazarus Pits had calmed down a tad since her arrival. 

So when his father Bruce Wayne received a ransom call from the Joker and video proof showcasing Marinette’s capture, Damian didn’t hesitate in suiting up and making his way to the warehouse in record speed to rescue her.

Facing off with Joker without a plan was a terrible idea but Damian hadn’t thought that far. The fear of seeing Marinette dead at the hands of the psychopathic clown was enough to send him over the edge and throw his common sense out the window.

All he could think of was how he couldn’t lose her, not when she was the most tolerable person in the manor, making her in league with Alfred. 

Joker had kidnapped Marinette for associating with the Waynes⸺ for associating with him. 

The bomb was going to go off soon, he didn’t know when and he didn’t care, he was going to rescue her. He had to. 

Robin could vaguely hear Batman through the comm in his ear, putting together a plan and ordering him not to do anything impulsive. 

Ignoring his father’s orders and earning him surprised shouts from his siblings, Robin burst into the warehouse just as he heard Batman instructing Nightwing, “Go after him and do damage control, he’s already broken into the warehouse where Marinette is being held.” 

Strolling through the warehouse with a sense of calmness he did not feel, he was met with Joker’s manic smile.

Marinette’s eyes darted to him from where her hands were bound to the chair and her expression turned desperate, seemingly trying to convey something without saying it out loud and alert the crazy clown. 

“Hm, just the little bird alone today? No Batsy and his other sidekicks?” Joker’s tone was cheerful, in a deceptive and creepy way, the detonator he waved tauntingly in greeting filled Robin with anger. 

Marinette hadn’t done anything wrong. She didn’t deserve to be manhandled and kidnapped by Joker because he was sadistic and wanted money. 

Robin then noticed Joker’s choice of attire was unusual, different from the signature purple three-piece suit with a green shirt, orange tie and white gloves.

Joker’s new attire wasn’t any much different from his signature attire. 

Except for the fact that it now had a twisted and warped appearance about it, while also adorned with jagged edges and swirling patterns that seemed to shift and dance like it had a life of their own. 

The new look paired with the wide grin on the psychotic clown’s face, which revealed the razor-sharp teeth, filled Robin with a sense of foreboding. 

Joker’s new attire shouldn’t elicit such apprehension but Robin knew something was missing, and Joker’s warped suit was the centre of it. 

At the prolonged silence, Joker took it as a sign to continue. “You know, I would let this little doll go after Mr. Wayne pays the ransom. There’s no need to play it the hard way.” 

Fat chance of that. Joker was the last villain to let a victim go after the ransom had been paid. 

Though the spoken words were soft, Robin heard the underlying threat for what it was.

The Joker might have enjoyed the theatrics but he was also sadistic, and when push comes to shove, he would absolutely go through with the implied threat. 

Jason Todd had been proof of that. Although his second eldest brother had come back to life through the Lazarus Pits, Robin sure as hell wasn’t going to let Marinette suffer the same fate. 

His knuckles were turning white from how hard he was clenching his fists, the nails digging into his palms. 

“Mr. Wayne won’t pay the ransom,” Robin said coldly, his watchful eyes following the detonator Joker was still waving around. 

His gaze then swivelled to Marinette, who looked… resigned? 

He felt a flash of panic, wondering why she would look so resigned and exhausted for some reason.

Joker laughed but it wasn’t out of joy. The laugh was cruel, echoing through the vast warehouse, and sounded like it was out of his darkest nightmares. 

It made Robin’s skin crawl as he fought against the instinct to shiver. 

When he thought back to the moment, Robin would’ve sworn he hadn’t seen Joker press the button on his detonator. 

But in that moment right after the laugh, Robin heard the faint music of a ‘happy birthday’ tune and within this context, he wasn’t sure if he could ever hear his siblings sing happy birthday to him without thinking back to this moment. 

His eyes went to Marinette and he rushed towards her, determined to reach her before the bomb went off. 

In his peripheral, he thought he saw Joker’s confused expression but his full focus was on the wide-eyed girl in front of him. 

Despite the unlikely odds of surviving the explosion, he intended to shield her with his own form in a desperate attempt to minimize her injuries.  

But his hand barely brushed hers before the bomb went off with a huge bang, taking down everyone within a ten-metre radius of the warehouse. 

The last thing he saw was a bright flash of white light. He thought he heard panic shouts from his comm, and then…

Nothing. 

Next Ch 1

[queen-tashie]

Find the Word tag

Tagged by my good friend @mrbexwrites to find convince, connive, convey & corrupt.

Leaving this as an open tag for anyone who wants to join in to find boat, bring, bristle, and befriend

Various snippets from The Quiet Forest below:

Convince (from The Quiet Forest chapter 5):

Farenna shut her down so quickly, Runnicka could hardly believe it. She should’ve been thrilled with the idea, after being a slave for who knew how long. If she could convince Farenna, Rio and Marcus would surely follow. The more hands she had to help the better their chances. She resigned herself to being stuck here for at least a little while longer. Runnicka would think of a way to get Farenna on her side, or she’d leave her behind. No matter the cost, Runnicka was getting out.

Connive Scheme (from The Quiet Forest chapter 6):

“Besides Rio and Marcus, everyone I suppose. If this is another one of your crazy schemes—” Farenna raised her voice.

Convey(or) (from The Quiet Forest chapter 8):

The further into the heart of Rossa she travelled, the more industrial it became. Carts rode on tracks to and from the main road where people offloaded and refilled resources. Small wagons had mechanisms on the front with two metal prongs for lifting, and a stone in the back to counter-balance the weight of the heavy crates they lifted. Workshops were gargantuan with steam-powered conveyor belts in their assembly lines.

Corrupt (from The Quiet Forest chapter 9):

Magic use like Runnicka’s campfires didn’t pollute the world, hundreds—or thousands—of mages gathered in battle did. Corrupt magic zones formed after battling mages pitted will against will to channel magic through themselves. Enemies trying to channel the same magic caused damaging ripples and tears in the unseen border between the physical world and the magical one. The unfiltered energy that spilled out into the world affected everything it came into contact with: unnatural beasts, toxic soil dead patches, even permanent injuries like Sarlentha’s.

[kit-williams]

Barn Anon. Thank you but I think I'm more comfortable being Anon. Just how I am I suppose? Either ways, I tried again to make something happier.

It's been a few days now since you left your parent's house. This is easily the longest sleepover you've ever had! Best day ever! or maybe best week ever would be more appropriate? You had never seen so many Salamanders before. You had seen other Space Marines before when your Salamander brought you along with him to what looked like a Space Marine hangout?

That place was so interesting, their armours all so different and colourful. You told your Salamander that they remind you of power rangers, getting a loud laugh in return. He had told you of the various legions and chapters, though you can't remember them all. Though it seems like they're all nice people! Or maybe it's because that particular hangout was frequented by those with fondness for humans.

Now however you find yourself following one of the other Salamanders through the large building. You had left your jacket in your room, you wouldn't need it here. the Salamanders keep their building nice and warm. He reaches down and picks you up, setting you on a tabletop that would give you a good view of a training pit.

There you see your Salamander out of armour fighting with another unarmoured Salamander. He and his opponent move so fast, it was almost a blur at some points. A large hand is carefully wrapped around your waist to make sure you don't fall. Your Salamander had told you how they train with each other and you were quick to ask if you could watch.

You swing your feet as you sit at the table's edge, you watch and cheer your Salamander on. Best sleepover ever.

You know what Barn Anon I can respect that and if you're more comfortable doing this then I wont stop you

this is gonna kinda long

Yes Sunny is a Terran born Night Lord you wanna fight about it?

Officer Riley looked over the missing child case though it looked like it was turning into a case of Astarte's linked abduction but all their parents knew was the Astartes in question was green. That didn't help... if it was a Dark Angel the kid could still be alive unless the feral astartes got a case of paranoia then that kid was as good as dead... if it was a death guard another case of they would have to find a body.

He sighs putting his head on the desk hearing the door open up and his space marine sits in his reinforced chair. Officer Riley was very aware of the Irony that was Suul... or as he called him Sunny to piss him off. He looked at the Night Lord sitting in the chair. Though he was what was called an "Old Breed" or "Old Stock" or even as Sunny said "Terran born". But still the Irony wasn't lost on him... a cop getting a Night Lord... but Sunny was stubborn to let the officer know that he was his charge and he was there to keep him safe.

"Something feels wrong Sunny. Did you learn anything from the Space Marines in the area?" He looked up at the Space Marine.

What left the Night Lord wasn't the typical Slavic accent that most others had but some weird what Officer Riley would call a Metropolitian accent, "Salamanda'" He said looking at his servos like he was looking at nails.

"A Salamander took them?"

"Ye' Left during the wolf's midnight patrol." Sunny had managed to get one Space Marine to at least talk with him. "Ya know there's a compound of them a bit of a trek away."

"Why would a Salamander take a child? They normally don't."

Sunny hums and nods before looking at him, "Why don't we go ask him."

----------

You were having so much fun! Only time that was boring was when your Salamander went and did his forge time but you would play on a tablet that the tech marine of the group gave you. You were starting to learn more and more.

BLARE

You jump at the alarm blare as suddenly you were picked up by a Salamander before you were given to your Salamander and then he and a few others moved you to a safe location. "What's happening?" You ask as your Salamander looks down at you.

"A feral space marine is in the area. The alarm wouldn't normally go off but since you are here... precaution." He says with a smile.

You lean against his arm just worried.

-------

"Sunny stop following me." Officer Riley said looking back at the Night Lord

"Fat chance. Ya might get yerself killed." Suul said he had little to fear from the Salamander's hurting his charge but he didn't know what else was around and that made the Night Lord paranoid because who knew what they knew.

"You just want to come along to translate for me don't you." Officer Riley says just looking at his large shadow just shrug.

"I've got big ears and Salamanders are big boys with big mouths... always useful to-" Suul started before he put himself in front of the officer as suddenly they were surrounded.

He holds his breath wondering how he didn't hear them approach but then again the snow did wonders to hide the noise but... he looks over their disrupted outlines of the large green giants. He looks over his shoulder at their massive weapons and on either side he sees two with flamethrowers aimed right at Sunny. Sunny was slowly putting his arms up and his hands behind his head getting to a knee to try and minimize the chance of his human getting hurt.

"My- my name is Officer Riley," He shows his badge out towards the most decorated looking Salamander, "We're looking for a kid. Their parents said they were grabbed by a feral Astartes and we were wondering if you knew of anything? Perhaps you found them?"

Sunny starts to translate before a gauntleted hand is held up, "I understand and speak their language."

"Well fuck me I guess." Sunny mumbles.

"Why don't you two come with us." The Salamander says as Riley hears the snow crunch behind him as they close in. "It is cold out."

"Alright thank you. Come on Sunny." Officer Riley says swallowing the sinking feeling in his gut. This was always the danger of dealing with "feral" Astartes they tended to group up into warbands or companies.

"We will not hesitate to kill the Night Lord." The Salamander speaks with finality in his voice.

"I will be on my best behavior on the Emperor's word." Suul promises causing the Salamander to hum.

[mareenavee]

The World on Our Shoulders | Chapter 40: New Roots

Present Day

Riverwood was much as Teldryn remembered it — quaint in a way that soothed an itch in the back of his mind he’d carried for as long as he could remember. It was an echo of all he’d ever wished for as a child: a calm, grounded community set in their ways, where everyone had a place and a function. Neighbors here bustled by, kindness lacing their smiles. Everyone knew everyone else’s names. It wasn’t like that back in the Imperial City, or Blacklight — or even Vvardenfell, no matter where on that rock he’d traveled.

He let out a long exhale, breath fogging in the early morning air as the carriage trundled into the once-tiny insignificant speck of a village — now expanding off of the renewed success of Whiterun like offshoots of various shrubbery. Teldryn had been a city-dweller for a long while, then a mercenary out in the wilds of the world, finding peace under the stars when there was any to be had at all. That Nyenna had suggested settling down here evoked a feeling he didn’t yet have words for.

He smiled down at her — she’d dozed off after they’d all broken camp and helped secure the carriage driver’s supplies in the compartment beneath their feet. The carriage driver pulled the cart around into a larger section of space across from the mill.

“Riverwood!” he shouted, as if everyone didn’t already know. Still, Teldryn grinned. He pulled a few extra Septims out of his pocket and tipped the driver.

Nyenna had begun to stir at the noise, but hadn’t quite woken up. It seemed a dream had pulled her under, taking all of her focus as she slumbered. Teldryn almost didn’t want to wake her, but other passengers were already lining up to pay for passage anywhere else.

“Nyenna?” Teldryn asked. Her eyes snapped open, and not for the first time, he noticed the barest hint of a flash of green as she did so. It faded as quickly as it came. Something churned in the pit of his stomach, but now was not the time to dwell. He knew she suffered nightmares, and he could guess what wormed its way through her mind, always searching. He could question her, or he could fuss, but she wouldn’t be entirely aware of the machinations Mora was working in the background unless He wanted her to. Teldryn had been there before with other Gods over the years — and perhaps was, in a way, still there. He cleared his throat and offered his hand.

She groaned and shook her head, but laced her fingers through his regardless. “Wh-where are we?”

“Riverwood, merdekhes, ” Teldryn said with a chuckle. “You slept through most of the last half of the journey.”

“Oh!” Nyenna said, sitting upright as he pulled her toward him. “I meant to be better company.”

“You both needed your rest,” Teldryn said with a smirk and a nod in her general direction.

She grinned, and the light of it did indeed reach her eyes. -> Read the rest on Ao3!

[the-princess-of-chaos]

Chapter 2: Daniel

Daniel looked at Fredrick, his sworn enemy, now passed out in his arms, with shock. Fredrick had a large gash on his cheek and blood all over his dirty face. His clothes dripped, clearly soaked through, and his right knee injured. The rest of his body clearly covered with cuts and bruises of various sizes.

“Nathan, can you please go get me towels?”

“Are you actually gonna let him in the house? 

“Nathan, go. Now.” He urged , sending an authoritative look over his shoulder. Thankfully he got the message and with some quiet whining, listened. Daniel busied himself by hoisting Fredrick into the entryway so he could close and lock the door. Daniel considered his brother's words and quickly decided, yes, he would let him in. It was a hero’s duty to help, no matter who, no matter the hour.

By the time Daniel got him inside and the door locked, Fredrick seemed to be coming to. 

“No, p-please not again. I-I can’t. I don’t --I don’t want to. I swear I won’t say anything just no more, please” 

“All I am doing is making sure you don’t fall, I have not done anything else.” Though he kept his voice even and calm, a pit began to form in his stomach, the same kind that formed after a particularly nasty rescue. These weren’t the words of someone who had escaped a situation with only physical injuries, this was fear. Fear of something more, something worse.

“I don’t wanna do it ag-again, I don’t, I don’t want this” This one came out as more of a plea of mercy than anything else.

Daniel’s heart clenched, sure Fredrick was his enemy but at the end of the day his job was to help those in need and here Fredrick was, so clearly in need. He dropped his volume and softened his tone, it was the same one he used to calm those he’d saved, in hopes it would calm the other down some. He gently lay Fredrick on the couch as he spoke. 

“I don’t know what happened but you are safe. I am not going to hurt you and no one is going to make you do anything” 

After several minutes of silence he finally responded with a whimper of pain. Daniel stood close by, not sure how to proceed. 

“I- I g-god-damnit. I think I need to go to the ER.” There were tears running down his face and the look of utter panic chilled Daniel.

“Is there something I can do here? It is very late already.”

“I-I don’t think so,” Fredrick hissed in pain as more tears welled up in his eyes. “I-I need help.” 

“Yes, I can see that.” His words were quiet, more to himself than Fredrick. “Just stay there, I will be back in just a moment.” 

Daniel rushed up the stairs to Nathan’s room, knocking hurriedly on the door. 

“Whattt, it’s 2 AM, I have school today and I already got you the towels for him, I put them on the couch” 

“Yes I saw that, thank you.” he made direct eye contact with Nathan. “I am leaving to take Fredrick to the neutral hospital across town.”

“Why can’t he go by himself why do you have to go too? He’s probably faking it ju-“ Daniel held up a finger to stop him. 

“My duty and the oath I took as a hero is to help those in need, Fredrick is in need and came seeking out my help.” Nathan rolled his eyes but Daniel continued in spite of this. “I am called to do my duty, fulfill my oath, even for villains. You will stay here, with the doors locked, and once he is treated I will be home.”

“You should just make him figure it out, he’s an adult, can’t he like ride the bus or something?”

A look at Nathan’s face told Daniel this was deeper than just general teenage obstinance. He pulled Nathan into a hug before speaking again. 

“It will be alright, I will be alright.” 

His reply came out mumbled, “That’s what dad said too.” 

Daniel felt a lump creep up in his throat at the unspoken ‘before he wasn’t’ that ended the sentence.

“I know. But this is not that. I promise.” 

“You don’t know that.” 

Daniel pulled away from the embrace so they could make eye contact again. “You are correct, I don’t. Unfortunately, my power set does not include premonitions of the future, however, I do know how to handle myself, as well as how to assess a situation, and I swear to you, I can handle this. I would not be going it alone if I could not”

“I guess.” There was a heavy beat of silence before his mumbling continued, “If you’re not back by like five I’m coming to find you.”

Daniel gave him a disapproving look over the top rim of his glasses, “Do not go outside, for any reason,” the ‘any’ holding an unspoken “even me” within its two syllables. “Keep the doors locked and the lights off, just pretend like everything is normal and you are asleep.” 

“Fine” while Nathan rolled his eyes at the final squeeze of his shoulder, Daniel heard the mumbled “I love you” from behind him as he descended the stairs, and made sure to say it back.

Just in case.

---------------------------- 

“While this is technically neutral territory you must have a hero present at all times if you are a villain in our database and you most certainly are.”

“With all due respect, Doctor, that completely defeats the purpose of a hospital in neutral territory.” Daniel's teeth gritted together. He didn’t like Fredrick, and on a normal day would have taken this opportunity to make his city safer and have another villain put away, this, however, was far from normal. As many personal and moral reasons as Daniel had for his disdain for the other, it didn’t change the fact that he refused to leave those who couldn’t defend themselves to be trodden over and taken advantage of and, as of right now, Fredrick, unfortunately, stood firmly in that box.

“Mr. Prism, I have a great deal of respect for you and what you do as the defender of our city, and I’m quite sure you have far better things you’d like to be doing right now, as do I,” he said, taking another glare at Fredrick's shivering and broken body. “However, the policy still dictates that while we are a neutral hospital, a hero must be present at all times if a known villain needs to be treated and seeing as you are the only hero available at such a late hour, I am, unfortunately, going to have to ask that you act as the hero in this scenario.” 

Daniel sighed heavily and rubbed the bridge of his nose where his glasses sat. “Fine, you can go ahead and start treatment of whatever injuries he has and just put it under my name.” He sighed again this time it turned into a yawn. Daniel took a seat in the blue chair that sat on the opposite wall of the exam table as he watched the doctor begin to unenthusiastically assist Fredrick. 

---------------------------- 

“Mr. Prism?” Daniel was awoken with a jolt as he sat up straight and looked around. He calmed down again when he realized he was still in the ER exam room where he’d remembered falling asleep.

“My apologies Doctor, I must have fallen asleep, is there something you need?”

“Yes actually, as the person paying, I have to get your verbal permission to perform any extra procedures and tests. So, I have to ask, are you feeling generous and willing to pay the $1000 for a leftover material processing kit to be administered and tested?”

Daniel nearly had the wind knocked out of him hearing that. He couldn’t hardly tell if it was the cold and uncaring way the doctor had asked the question or the way that Fredrick looked. So stricken and terrified that it very nearly made him forget he was looking at someone who had tried to kill him many times before and not a scared and lonely person desperate for even just a shred of kindness. 

“There will be no judgments if you decline. I honestly wouldn’t blame you if you did, they’re expensive and usually worthless.” At hearing that Fredrick seemed to shrink in on himself and for another moment Daniel forgot the person he was looking at.

“No no it’s fine go ahead and do what you need to do, I have no problem paying for it. I will step out of the room so you can go ahead.”

“As I said before, a hero must be accompanying any known villain at all times, so I am going to have to ask you to stay in the room while I perform this exam.”

Daniel knew his face had betrayed him, putting his horror on full display. He didn’t like Fredrick, at many times he could confidently say he hated him, even so, he would never, ever, wish this on another person, not even, in this case, his literal enemy.

“Doctor, again, with all due respect, it feels completely uncouth for me to stay in the room during such a personal procedure and I highly doubt he is comfortable with my presence in the room at all, let alone in such a vulnerable position.” Daniel made sure to keep his voice level but firm. Clearly Fredrick had been violated enough up until this point, Daniel wasn't keen to add himself to that list.

“The most I can do is pull a curtain between the two halves of the room, if you leave this room, I will not be able to proceed, that is simply hospital policy.” 

Daniel took another look at Fredrick's face, or at least, he tried to. The other had dropped his head and looked so defeated it felt unnatural.

“Then put the curtain up, while he may be a known villain, he is still a person deserving of respect and decency and you and I as those who serve the people should know that.” He made sure his words had some bite to them in the hopes that it could prevent this doctor from trying to do this type of thing again.

As the curtain closed Daniel sat, attempting to reconcile his shock.

What had they done to him?

Whatever it was, it was brutal; Daniel had been able to tell that from how Fredrick arrived at his doorstep. However, to require a leftover materials kit was an entirely different level of horrific. It had to have been near, if not actual torture methods to require it. Anyone going through power use so damaging that they would need one was nearly unheard of anymore and the thought of it happening, especially to someone he, for better or worse, knew so intimately, was sickening. 

---------------------------- 

“I’ve finished all I can do, I’ll give you some time to make your way down to the front desk and we can discuss payment there.” The doctor exited the room, leaving Daniel and Fredrick in thick awkward silence. 

“I do not want you walking out of here in just the hospital gown, it’s snowing, you can wear this for now and I will find you some real clothes when we get back.” Daniel held out the black jacket he’d slipped on before leaving and waited for the other to take it from his hand. He could see the defensiveness on Fredrick's face however it was severely undercut by the weary and fearful look in his eyes. Daniel sighed, though not out of annoyance, “If you need a few minutes, that is fine. I will step out of the room so you can gather yourself, just come out when you are ready.” He gently laid the jacket on the exam table next to Fredrick before turning to wait outside the room. 

[nausikaaa]

Favourite Books Of 2024

thanks for tagging me @run-for-chamo-miles! i always keep a list of everything i read in a year, it was hard to narrow these down to 6 like you did, so i ended up with 7 top picks!

Home Fire absolutely destroyed me, it is so beautiful and heartbreaking at once. it's the greek myth of Antigone, but told through two modern British families. it tackles radicalisation, islamophobia and the way politics and tabloids feed into it, cultural homogenisation, sisterhood, and coming to terms with who your parents really are, not the idealised versions you have of them. it gets more relevant with each passing day.

We Solve Murders is a fun romp across various countries and characters. it follows Steve, a retired detective, his daughter in law Amy, a bodyguard, and Rosie, the celebrity author she's assigned to protect, as Amy is framed for several murders and becomes the target of assassins. all the characters are so likeable in such different ways, the plot is fast paced and full of twists, and there's a healthy mix of humour and sincerity.

i have mixed feelings about Emma Southon and her books, but i really enjoyed A History Of The Roman Empire In 21 Women. it does what it says on the tin, telling the story of the empire from it's mythical founding to the legalisation of Christianity. reading the list of names, i wasn't confident i knew many of them, but as i read their chapters i realised i knew of their deeds, if not the names.

Great Goddesses is a story told through poetry, following the Greek Gods through their myths and into the modern day, with as well as poems focusing on mortal heroes from myths, and interludes of nameless women from the ancient and modern worlds. Nikita Gill approaches the myths and characters with such care, even the ones who are usually villianised, like Aphrodite, Hera, and Zeus, are shown to be multidimensional, even if their actions are not excused. i really loved the sympathetic portrayal of Ares.

and now the memoirs! i know not everyone likes these, but i've gotten into them more this year and loved these three.

Edith Hall is one of my favourite classicists, so when i saw she had a new book out, and that it was about suicide in ancient greek myths, something i once wrote an essay on, i was elated. Facing Down The Furies weaves together a memoir, ancestry, and ancient stories, piecing together Hall's own family history of suicide and the ways the ancient Greeks and Romans saw it, and how those ancient stories helped her break the cycle.

Dragged Up Proppa was one of my biggest favourites this year. it's not the memoir of a celebrity, but an average man who lived an extraordinary life. it covers his parents' lives, such as his father's experience in World War Two, then his own, his upbringing with little money, his struggle with dyslexia in school, his life plan falling apart just as the pits closed just as he left school, his time on the picket lines during the 1984-85 miner's strike, and then his life afterwards, working and scamming to make a living, meeting his wife, travelling, teaching himself to read, and finally returning to the village he grew up in, raising his kids and grandkids, and writing a book. it is deeply immersed in the North East, where I grew up, just 50 years ago, and felt like a piece if local history.

and just as a little one, From A Rock To A Hard Place is also about the 1984-85 miner's strike. it's not super long and is made up mostly of anecdotes from the people who lived through it, highlighting the misery and brutality of the situation, but also the cameraderie and moments of light in the darkness. those who have read my fanfiction this year will know i took a lot of elements from this book for my own fic set during this time. i would love to one day write an original novel set in my home town at this time.

i tag @hurremsultanns @forabeatofadrum @prettygoododds @bookish-bogwitch @that-disabled-princess @ic3-que3n @artsyunderstudy and anyone else who wants to do this!

[clumsiestgiantess]

Chapter four of the Other-world Universe; Alexis tries (and fails) at being helpful.

all chapters linked here

[The power of a pile of free cash] The cycle of realities repeated itself yet again, and soon I was bored enough with my own reality to swap worlds.  I was curious to see how the young woman was coming along with the money I'd given her.  Before I got home however, one of my friends stopped me in the hall.  “Are you ok?” they asked me.  Apparently, I seemed rather distracted lately.  “There’s just a lot of things going on at home,” I replied.  It was technically true.  “Don’t worry about it.”  Giving me another concerned look, they told me they would be there if I needed to talk, and I nodded, trying my hardest to focus on them when my mind had already begun to wander through thoughts of the other-world.  Eventually, they sighed and moved on to a different topic as we walked down the hall together.  They'd clearly given up on getting any more information out of me, having already tried a few less conspicuous ways to get something of an answer from me, but obviously I couldn’t tell them the truth.  

When I got home, I immediately dropped my backpack by the basement couch and prepared for another trip to the other-world.  I can always do homework when I get back.  I have all the time I need to do it since this little pit stop will only take a few seconds in my world.  Traversing the lay of the land so many times, I’d pretty much mapped out the easiest and least destructive way to the city.  There was only one slightly sketchy detour I took through a skate park to get to the field behind the young woman's building.  

However, when I returned to her apartment, everything was a mess.  The money had downright vanished; nothing had changed.  Her apartment had apparently been paid off, but the rest of the money was gone.  Or so I thought.  When the young woman returned, she arrived with a fancy new car and outrageously expensive-looking outfit.  I’d just brought her car back to her and now she’d gotten rid of it.  This was definitely NOT what I gave her the money for.  The heck is wrong with you? I mentally asked as she disappeared into her apartment.  You’re supposed to use my money wisely, not blow it all on things you didn’t need!  

Things only got worse from there.  Through various ways of sneaking around, I started following her to find out what she’d done with the rest of my money.  I gave her so much, how could she have possibly spent it all already?  Never underestimate the power of a pile of free cash.  The young woman had visited both the mall and the downtown shopping area by the end of the day.  I was also fairly sure she quit her job, relying entirely on the money I’d so foolishly given her.  I hadn’t seen her go to work at all since I started watching her.  

Every day I watched her, every day she drove herself further into the ground.  I'd even witnessed her steal her ex’s car and have it crushed at a junkyard.  The incident was so baffling that I almost controlled her simply to stop her from doing it.  I suppose I could’ve deemed it an emergency so I could control her without breaking my own rules, but it didn’t matter.  Eventually the money ran out, and she ended up in more debt than she started with.

I wanted to scream, and I did, but in my own world where no one could hear me.  Alright, I calmed myself, this time I’m going to have to change things.  There was still a decent amount of money left in the bank from the space set, and I’d brainstormed a few ideas on how to keep her from wasting it.  Determined to set things straight, I grabbed more tiny bills from the set.  I made sure to only take a reasonable amount of cash, not whatever I could grab like last time.  

The space set was boxed up on the shelf for now, but if Liam ever took it down to play with again, he’d probably wonder where all the money went.  Maybe he’ll just think he lost the pieces.  There were a few other set parts missing, which was why it was left on the shelf to begin with.

My new and improved plan was this: Instead of leaving the young woman on her own with the pile of cash, I’d put the money out and wait right there until she came and found it.  The other steps are a work in progress, but I’ll probably just make them up as I go.  Basically, I’d be monitoring her a lot more closely than just handing thousands of dollars to her and walking away.  I returned to the other-world, money in hand, and made my way back to the apartment, carefully placing the bills into a heap on the floor just like last time.  Then, I waited for the young woman to come home.  

When she finally came back from who knows where, I slid over to the balcony doors to watch.  She’d barely stepped into the apartment before realizing something was off.  Turning the tight corner by the doorway, she walked into the living room and stopped short, staring at the new bills that seemingly appeared from nowhere.  The young woman stepped cautiously over to the pile in a daze.  Slowly, she turned to the balcony.  Oh no, I left the door open!  I quickly backed away from the doorway as she stepped out onto the small metal outreach.  Looking around baffled for a moment, she spoke to the empty alleyway below her.  “I don’t know who keeps doing this or why, but..” she glanced backwards into her apartment, “This better not be a test.. or a bribe.. but thanks.”  Finally, she turned and closed the balcony door behind her, giving me a chance to let out the breath of air I'd been holding.  Soon, she began collecting the money stacked up on the floor.  Don’t thank me yet, I thought smugly.

The young woman stayed in that night, and I waited outside for the morning to come so I could set my plan into motion.  A few ideas had popped up while I sat around waiting for her, and I was eager to try them.  I yawned, suddenly very tired.  I’ve been awake in both worlds for a long time now.  It won't hurt if I rest a while, right?  Just because I’m on a stakeout doesn't mean I can't close my eyes for a bit.  I sidled backwards to the far end of the small field, giving myself another whole foot of room.  Despite the tight space, I was asleep in no time.

I couldn’t really tell how long I’d been out, but I was suddenly woken by something slamming into my side.  A truck had crashed into my leg; its whole front bumper was completely caved in.  My leg must’ve fallen across the road in my sleep.  A man stumbled out of the driver’s seat, and I sleepily backed off, retreating further into the old baseball field.  I waited as a tow truck came and wheeled away the crushed vehicle, while whoever was driving the damaged truck kept complaining that there was nothing he could've possibly hit; the road was completely empty.  Well, at least he knows not to drive back here anymore, I thought sleepily.  I'll be sitting here more often now; maybe it's for the best he learns not to be here.  

The sky was just beginning to fade into the dazzling oranges of early morning, and with so many cars and buildings reflecting its light, it was almost impossible for me to go back to sleep.  So much for getting a good night's rest.  I sat in the field, bored, waiting for something to happen so I could put my plan into action.  Finally, the apartment lights flickered on, and I sidled over to the window excitedly.  Nothing had actually happened yet, she only got up to make a cup of coffee, and afterwards the young woman picked up a few outfits and laid them out, trying to decide between them.  I huffed disappointedly, finding this part of the morning a bit boring, but when she pulled her pajama top over her head, I recoiled away so harshly I nearly fell over backwards.  Though these people and their city were surely fake, they certainly looked real.  I stepped over the building to watch by the street instead.  

As I sat off to the side of the road, I realized I didn't even know the young woman's name.  Controlling a passerby to get close to the building, I managed to read the nameplate next to her room number, which I’d caught in the reflection of a hall mirror.  The name read ‘Erica Anderson’.  Satisfied, I returned to my spot and released the stranger.  Erica drove off a bit later, and I followed her car from a distance, simply because I couldn't get much closer to the city.  Eventually, she parked in a garage connected to one of the fanciest shopping malls I'd seen in the other-world.  Then again, I hadn’t really seen much beyond the city and the mountain range.  What is out there in the rest of this strange world?  I assumed it ended at the end of the table holding it all up in my world, but the highways branching out of the city had to go somewhere.  I'd have to find that out later.  Right then, I had to stop this poor woman from wasting any more of my money.

No way are you spending all of it on clothes and mall stuff, I thought resentfully.  Carefully placing a hand over her, I had her drive to a large city-owned building instead.  A sign outside the door read: Addicted Spenders Therapy Sessions room 105.  It was really a genius plan.  I'd been watching the billboard ads while I was bored, and an advertisement for this lecture popped up, ironically right after an ad for a new line of expensive luxury items like handbags and the like.  I had a feeling the ad placement was somewhat intentional, though.  

I made Erica go to the room and sit in for a class, letting her go right before she entered the building.  Quickly remembering I would no longer be intangible without a person to control, I latched on to someone in an office building nearby.  It was much taller than me, which was a bit unsettling.  Most of the buildings around me were taller than me, and most of the ground beneath me was filled with moving people and cars.  It was all a bit overwhelming and strangely claustrophobic.  I sat literally in the building, having no room elsewhere, letting whoever I had in my control just continue with their work.  Sitting through the steel frame of the building was probably one of the strangest feelings I’d ever had.  The entire building almost seemed like a hologram — a projection of light that wasn’t actually tangible, though really it was me that was the intangible one.

About an hour later, Erica came rushing out of the meeting, looking confusedly up and down the street as if she were unsure how or why she was there.  Apparently my control only lasts so long without me there to keep it running.  By the looks of Erica's confusion, it seemed as though she didn’t even know where she was.  I latched back onto her, releasing the office worker, and internally reminded her that she wanted to go to each session of these classes.  Her confusion slowly seemed to disappear with my assurance.  

There, I thought, that wasn't so hard, was it?  Once everything was set up, I left her to her own devices for a while.  I hadn’t given her nearly as much money as the first time, so later in the week I set her up with a decent job as well.  Since I had no clue what she did prior to when I'd first given her the money, I decided to put her into a simple customer services-type job.  Surely she could manage it.  All she had to do was talk on a phone, how hard could that be?  Alright, this is going well, I don’t think she’ll do anything stupid again, right?

Wrong.  Very wrong.  I left for a few months to deal with things in my own world, however; so I didn’t even know it for a while.  My team won the state volleyball tournament, that was fun.  I failed a math test, that was less fun.  During winter break, my family drove out to an island in our camper van.  For a few blissful days, my life seemed perfect — collecting shells on the beach and riding rollercoasters on the pier by day, lighting bonfires and stargazing by night.  I felt like I was set for life.  Our family loves the beach; I’m surprised we don’t live closer to one.  I made a mental note to find a nice oceanfront whenever I returned to the other-world.  

All good things come to an end though, I suppose.  After a week on the island, it was time to make the return trip home.  It was always a melancholy experience, leaving the beach behind.  The time we spent there was always fun, but the island was so small, there were only so many things to do before you’d done them all.  Back at home, there was now only one little weekend left before break was over.  However, I’d saved the last two days for finishing school assignments, so my break was basically over right then and there.  If only there was a way to stop tomorrow from coming, I thought wryly.  It really was rather nice to have another world all to myself.  

My good mood was instantly shattered when I returned, though.  I found Erica in jail for drunken driving.  She managed to pay off her bail, but the fees left most of her bills unpaid, again.  What do I have to do to get you to be responsible for once?  It’s only been what, a month, I think, since I left?  Erica had also been sentenced to community service, which I overheard her complain about when she arrived home.  

Sitting in the field out behind her building, I thought, again, about how to deal with this.  I was far too invested to give up now.  Maybe if I move her further from the city, she won’t keep getting into these situations in the first place.  I knew Erica wouldn’t like it if I made her randomly move, but it was for her own good, and the job I’d given her would likely allow it.  Even if her boss wouldn’t let her, I could always control them and suggest that they change their mind.  

I decided to search for a house when it got dark, that way less people would be out, and less people would be in my way.  Once the sun set, I began my trip out to the suburbs beyond the city, closer to where I first zapped into the world.  None of the homes really stood out to me, though.  Try as I might, I couldn’t find a good enough house in suburbia; all of them looked almost the same.  

While I was searching through the many cookie cutter homes, I noticed a modern mansion sitting seemingly untouched on top of a cliff overlooking the city.  Whoever owned the mansion was currently selling it for a ridiculous amount of money, but it wasn't that hard to scrounge up enough to easily outbid any other offers with the help of a rich-looking puppet.  It was perfect.  Erica wouldn’t be too compelled to move back to the city if she was living there, and the cliffside allowed me easier access to the house.  The next day, while Erica was out doing her forced community service, I quite literally took things into my own hands.

I got a few movers and a truck to come over and get her things, and watched as they drove everything over to the new place.  It took a while for them to get all the way out to the cliffside, and even longer for them to move everything inside the mansion.  I couldn't even leave and come back because I had to keep all of the movers at least somewhat under my control.  Eventually, the job was done and I released them back to their normal lives.  Realizing how late it was, I rushed back into the city as fast as I could.  I didn’t dare run, knowing I would cause both tremors and destruction if I did.  

Watching the movers had caused me to lose track of time.  When I finally made it back, I saw with a pang of guilt that Erica's car was already out front.  I raced to the back deck and watched as she looked around her empty apartment, devastated.  I opened the balcony to reach in and control her, but before I could do anything, Erica marched out onto her deck and I quickly backed away.   "What the hell?!  I thought you were supposed to be giving me money and helping me out and shit!" she yelled angrily at the field I sat in.  "Is this some kind of punishment for my arrest, because if it is..  Where the hell is my stuff, huh?"  

For a long moment, I sat frozen.  Can she see me?  Erica grumbled and stormed back inside, pacing the length of her now empty apartment.  I realized that she'd addressed 'whoever was doing this' before, when I’d mistakenly given her a hint to where I was.  She didn't actually know that I was there.  All she knew was that the door to the deck was open at the same time money kept appearing.  Still, it was unnerving, like she was actually yelling at me.  

Carefully, I reached through the open patio door again and took control.  I had her go back outside and drive to her new house, walking silently next to her car the whole way.  Since I had her under my control, I no longer had to avoid everything that I could potentially trample.  It was nice being able to walk around without fear of demolishing anything.

When Erica finally pulled up to the small mansion, I released her.  She slowly wandered inside, where she stood speechless, looking over the boxes of her things that had miraculously been moved there.  She found the keys to the house on one of the boxes by the door.  Dazed, Erica stepped out onto the lawn overlooking the cliff, then circled back to her car.  "I don't know if I'm going crazy, or if there's someone or something behind everything that's been happening to me," she mused.  "Maybe this is a secret social experiment or something.  But god, you-  you didn't have to go and get me this."  Shaking her head with a chuckle, Erica looked back over her shoulder at the mansion.  "I really am just going crazy, aren't I?"  She shrugged, “Well, as long as good things keep coming my way, I honestly don’t care how any of this happens.”  Erica stepped back into the new house, and I left her to get settled in.  Maybe, finally, she would change.

I was hesitant to leave Erica alone again, knowing what happened the last few times, so I stayed and watched her for a bit every day.  However, after a few weeks or so, I was getting bored of watching similar things happening daily.  She hadn’t done anything too out of the ordinary while I was there, so eventually I left — confident that this time Erica could handle herself without me.  Every once and a while I’d come back and check on her, but she’d been doing pretty well for a while now, and I was beginning to move on to other things.  About five months had passed since I’d first met Erica, and more than once I thought about showing her the truth.  Where the money came from, who was actually helping her out, but that was an increasingly bad idea the longer I thought through it.  Showing Erica everything would only leave her with way too many questions than she needed answered.