#and may my anger keep the fire up instead of drowning myself in the deeps of the abyss

[australet789]

I changed my mind and actually going to use a hashtag for Palestine support posts. It's going to be #free palestine.

Why the change? I talked to my mom last night, about how while i still despise the lack of cordiality most of USA-ians have in general in every website, making us who not live there to basically be forced to learn about their politics and such... I dont want to be like them. If i want to be better, i need to be the change it's needed, instead of falling into the apathy the world is currently living.

Yes, im still angry. Im sad, disappointed, want to scream and tear the world apart, to make people understand...

But i want to be kind. If something, give the kindness others are not being able to receive. I dont expect myself to become a beacon, but it's says more of a candle trying to stay alight in the middle of the ocean.

[saphirered]

Saph I hope you feel better! I really liked the VM Snow White you just posted, but could you also please do the same prompt but with M9 boys including Molly? If you’re not feeling up to it that’s fine too!

Thank you! The meds are beginning to do their job luckily. I'm glad you liked the last one. I blinked, my hand slipped and now it's here. Prepare for some angst. Hope you enjoy! 😘

(Caleb)

Caleb had always known his past would come to haunt him. He was prepared for it. Prepared to take the hit, take responsibility for everything and he’d face his past be that with or without the people he loves. Part of him, once he got used to having these fools around, having you around, wanted it to be on his own, to protect them and protect you. To not have any more lives lost in the grand scheme. The people he loves becoming collateral would be unacceptable. But you had become collateral in the grand scheme of things.

When it became clear to his enemies he was a bit more attached to you than the others, they took this weakness and exploited it. They pushed his buttons before, using you as a tool, verbal bait even, but he never fell for it. His reluctancy to act on his feelings, to keep them to himself instead, were the very thing he hoped would keep those loose ends from latching onto you. His love is a curse, the objects of his desire always to be torn away from him no matter how hard he tries to prevent it. He’s lost you to that same curse. Not lost. Almost lost.

You’ve been cursed, your conscious mind separated from your unconscious body. Simple healing spells wouldn’t do the trick here. This curse holds no roots in the divine. He’s spent days researching and that much he could confirm. This curse would take an arcane approach. Something he prides himself in to be his specialty. Lucky you. Lucky him. He had the others bring all books, ancient scrolls and other sources of knowledge brought to him, along with a wide variety of components once he’d made a significant dent in the research matter, assuring him this would have the greatest chances of success.

It’s not the soft canopy bed with the plush pillows from the fairytales you’re placed on. Instead you lay on a wooden table, inscribed with all sorts of arcane sigils. Nor do you look like some angelic peaceful being. Your brow is furrowed in discomfort, your hands balled into fists at your sides. Caleb moves a brush against areas of exposed skin, painting symbols to match with precision and care, afraid to even make a single mistake, triple checking every mark. He speaks the incantations while incorporating the components varying from precious gems crushed and whole, herbs and incense. And then he waits. He doesn’t expect the effects to be immediate, often with these magics it is not and he knows that but that doesn’t get rid of the impatience and fear.

“How I long to hear your voice again. I know this will work but that doesn’t ease away the sliver of doubt. What if… What if… That’s what I keep asking myself. I know it’s stupid.” Caleb wipes an hand over his brow as he pulls up a chair and sits at your side, elbows leaning on the table careful to avoid any sigils just in case.

“It also faced me with the harsh reality that I held off telling you how I feel. It looks so stupid now in hindsight because what good did it do anyone. In the end you still ended up paying for my mistakes. I was stupid to push you away, try to convince you your own feelings were unreciprocated. I know I didn’t have you fooled in the slightest but to know I could have loved you, it makes me feel like I am to blame for wasting that opportunity and possibly shortening our time together. The thought of losing you before having given you my love will forever be my greatest regret.”

Caleb watches the muscle of your hand unclench and relax. He hears a deep intake of breath and staring at your face he’s met with your smile, one filled with love as he helps you sit up. All is good once more.

(Fjord)

Fjord’s drenched to the bone, out of breath, anger running through him like he’s never experienced. Still he’s unsure if his anger is directed at the one responsible for your eternal slumber or at himself for making a ballsy move that didn’t pay off in the slightest and in fact backfired in a worse way he could have ever imagined. He played a game of chicken with Uk’otoa and lost. He’d have been fine by letting someone else pay the price for him. Why should he care about some stranger becoming victim to the leviathan? The one who paid the price, became the victim to his actions didn’t end up being a stranger. It had to be you of all people hadn’t it?

Uk’otoa must have been watching his dreams, even his waking actions if that were possible and have seen his infatuation with you. When the leviathan threatened Fjord in another briny dream of his mentioning your name he had called bullshit. The snake had never been able to reach out to anyone it didn’t already have some kind of grasp on. Little did he know Uk’otoa had just that. Just enough of a sliver through him, and the Cloven Crystal to get to you.

So there Fjord sits at your bedside. You’re just as drenched as he is, hair dripping, skin glowing in the candle light of the room reflected off the water particles. Your lips are tinted blue, a redness around your eyes, your skin is cold. The sleep you’re in is a state of perpetual drowning and Fjord knows what it feels like, to drown. He can only hope you’re spared that pain. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to forgive himself if you are tortured like so because of his actions. Clasping your hand between both of his he runs his fingers over your knuckles. He bows his head. It still feels so wrong to not have you respond to his touch. So wrong.

“I want you to know that I am to blame for your fate. I’m about to do a very stupid thing to make it right. I know you’d tell me not to but I can’t sit by and watch you suffer like this. I’ve tried everything. I’ve begged and bargained. I’ve shouted at the skies but I got no reply. Everything comes up empty and I see no other choice than to do this. It might sound stupid but I came to ask for your forgiveness.” Fjord pauses. Usually he would have gotten a reply. He would sell his soul for just having you tell him everything will be alright. It’s a good thing he’s about to sell it for so much more than that. It’s worth it. It’s worth having you alive and well.

“I won’t ask for forgiveness for what I’m about to do because I will never regret it. I ask only you may one day forgive me for what I might become. I need you to know I love you and did, will do all of this out of love. That’s why I hope you’ll never see me again after I give myself to Uk’otoa. I can’t bare to watch that affection in your eyes being replaced by hatred, but most of all disappointment. I hoped to be worthy of your love and I will always regret never having truly experienced it.” Fjord’s voice cracks slightly. He studies your face, as if to ingrain every detail into his memory, as if he thinks he might never see it again.

“I’m afraid. I’m so deadly afraid.” Fjord whimpers pressing a kiss to the back of your hand before he lets go. He checks his supplies, taking out the Cloven Crystal, glaring at the orb intensely cursing the thing to oblivion. Coughs pull him out of his staring match with the crystal. Your body moves, leaning over the edge of the bed vomiting up brine. Fjord drops the orb and his belongings running over to you and helping you gather your bearings until you’re no longer chocking on sea water.

“You better not do what I think you’re planning with that orb or so help me Storm Lord, I will drown you myself.” Fjord can’t do anything but laugh despite the very real threat on his life as you pull him into your embrace.

(Caduceus)

Caduceus isn’t bothered by death. Death is part of life as much as living is. It’s inevitable. Every soul will move on, leaving its vessel for the earth, the fire or the wild things to bring forth something new. What does very much bother him are perversions of death, those who try to cheat death, upset the natural balance, maim and manipulate that what is and should be. He hates it with a passion and seeks to rectify it, return the world to that balance when faced with it. That’s where you come in. You much like him have a respect and understanding of life and death similar to his own. Very few people understand that. Very few people do not fear the end when they see it coming. You’re one of those very few people.

You understand Caduceus on a different level, in his sentiment and mannerisms while others may think him strange. Not that he cares if people do, you’ve been his filter in the big shiny new world past the borders of his grove. You’ve been his safety net, his grounding force, his safe haven when the world seems against him and he thinks his senses might be wrong. The Wild Mother must have gently blown her winds to bring you together.

That’s why it seems so wrong you’re affected by this darkness having taken hold over your body, leaving you in a state of not entirely alive nor dead. Resurrection has been futile as much as draining your life and allowing you to move to the care of the Wild Mother herself. You’re trapped and that’s why Caduceus fears what would happen should you die. He’s seen what this perversion of life and death has done to his home, the forests surrounding it and the creatures living in it. He’ll do everything in his power to prevent that from happening to you.

Caduceus has put your body through the typical burial rites and rituals, preserving what he can by using wards and the divine blessings granted to him by his goddess, sending her prayers of your recovery but you appear to be even beyond her reach now. He moves a damp cloth across your arms and face, brushing aside your hair, humming to himself until he’s done, moving on to clean the room around you, getting rid of the dust, placing things back where they belong and replacing the decayed flowers with fresh ones. Caduceus gathers his tea, preparing a cup for himself as he watches you.

“Can you show me how they’re doing?” The wind grows cold. He knew that would be the answer but still he could hope maybe that answer could change.

“Are they in pain?” The wind grows warm but then cold again. You were, but not anymore. It seems that the new wards he’s put up are doing their job. That’s good.

“Is there a cure?” The gentle breeze disappears. She doesn’t know then. This goes even beyond the goddess herself but it doesn’t mean it’s impossible. Caduceus will keep hope, though it is dwindling fast, for your sake he’ll have hope. He’s always spoken to the dead before and while you’re not really dead, there’s a strange comfort to something that feels so final.

“Hey. I’d ask you how you’re doing but that’s not gonna work now, is it? Don’t worry. You’re going to be fine. I know you are. You’ve managed to keep me alive with the others for much longer than I’ve been taking care of you like this. I think we’re going to be fine. I know you’re here but I still miss you. Calliope makes for terrible company watching things unfurl between the others. She’s too much of a hopeless romantic. You forgot to tell me the recipe to that special brew of yours. I’ve been trying to recreate it but I haven’t been able to. I think what I’m trying to say is, I could really do with having my best friend back. That’d be nice.”

Caduceus sips his tea, face devoid of his usual dopy smile. A sudden breeze hits through the window, blowing it open. A few lighter weight and loose items go flying but the thud of a heavier one is clear to hear. Caduceus closes the window and feels something solid hit his boot. It’s a crystal from the ones surrounding the grove. He picks it up, feeling the warmth run through it. The breeze directs towards you and he feels himself walking over to your body. The crystal calls to you and when it touches you your body runs with energy, pulsing, like you’ve been forcibly pulled back to this world. You look around eyes wide breathing heavy.

“Hey.” Caduceus smiles. “I made tea.”

(Mollymauk)

Maybe pretending you and him were some high born assholes was a questionable decision. Taking on an invite directed at the said people you were impersonating even more so, and stealing, sorry, borrowing without asking, some things from their summer cottage to swim in luxuries, an out right terrible idea when these people happen to be very well connected.

So when these fancy folk came back to the cottage earlier than expected, the two of you had grabbed what you could before making your grand escape, chased by their private guards until you lost them. A safe distance away you set up camp. Time to inspect your findings before returning to the carnival. Your eye for valuables had always been much more keen than Molly’s and your appraisals usually spot on. It was only natural he would let you do your thing but he’d still help you.

Particularly proud of getting some ornate jewellery box Molly had pried it open and revealed the jackpot. But of course you couldn’t just sell recognisable jewellery as is and you couldn’t keep such a thing on you very long. So of course you went to work, prying the stones from their settings. A particular necklace was giving you trouble, not even your tools being able to pry it out, you even broke one so you left that one for last.

The two of you had argued, eventually setting on just smashing the stone with the pommel of Molly’s scimitar, the broken gem still providing plenty of pay and not being as recognisable in peaces. So you held the necklace across a stone while he smashed it. When it did a spark hit, next thing he knew you were on the ground, your hands burned where you held the precious metal. At first he thought you were simply knocked out but when you didn't wake up he grew worried. Splashing water in your face, shaking you, lifting your legs, nothing got you to wake up so instead he carried you and the jewellery back to the carnival. Two days and still you didn’t wake up. It became clear this bloody gem was cursed when dark veins started crawling up your skin as the days passed.

Since this was technically on him, Molly took care of you. He makes quite a doting nurse when he wants to be but never without an inappropriate comment or two. It was quite strange to not hear you laugh at or scold him for these comments. Nevertheless he’d fluff up the pillow beneath your head, provide you an extra blanket when the night was cold, tell you stories, or simply the events of the day, the people who came to the carnival, some things he lifted from people’s pockets and so on. Molly has to say he’s ashamed to admit he’d got frustrated with your unresponsiveness or rather the fact you still hadn’t woken up and there was nothing the others could do for you. A healer would still be a week or so out.

“You know, while I’ve really begun getting used to these little one-sided conversations and your lack of judgement at some of my more terrible decisions I really prefer sharing them with you in the moment. I’ve gotten caught by the guards twice now and without you, Gustav is getting a bit sick of bailing me out. I miss our little flirtations. I miss your sometimes wrong opinions, though you’d say they’re proven facts. I miss your company. I think our time apart has given me time to reflect how much you truly mean to me and how much I need you in my life.” Molly leans on his elbow as he studies your face unmoving. You look so peaceful and asleep but he’d much rather get lost in your eyes when you’re awake.

“I laughed at you when you told me the most valuable thing in the world anyone could ever give another is their heart but I think I know what that means now. I’ll offer you mine if you will have it. So please, come back and make sure my head doesn’t get up too high into the clouds or I might just float away.” Molly leans back looking at the ceiling of the tent with a sigh. He’s pulled out of his mind by a snicker.

“A dramatic confession of love to the unconscious target of your affections? And you call me cliche.” Molly looks at your face, eyes still closed but smug grin clear on your face. He pokes your side making you jump.

“You are insufferable.”

[tainted-wine]

How many times do you think that Hawk’s S/O has walked in on either a shattered mirror or Hawks knocked out in front of a mirror because he’s mistaken it for an intruder?

Too many times. But things have gotten better. 

You raised the handheld mirror right in front of his face, steeling your nerves to ensure that you won’t panic in case he reacts violently. 

He stares at his reflection intensely while you study his body language. No shrinking of the pupils, no bristling of his wings...he’s handling it much better than last time. It’s time to ask the big question: “Who do you see, Hawks?”

Without missing a beat, he answers. “Me. It’s just me.”

Your shoulders slacken from relief. “That’s right. Good job.”

Next, you guide him to the bathroom mirror. His second test was the ‘intruder that likes to watch you groom yourself.’

“Who is that behind me, Hawks?” You ask. 

He calmly watches himself. “Just me.”

You smile. “That’s right.” He’s making amazing progress, but there’s still one more test.

The two of you enter the bedroom and stop in front of the full-length mirror. So many times have you replaced this poor piece of furniture after getting heavily damage. So many times have you seen Hawks writhing on the floor, surrounded by shattered glass.

He may have passed the other two mirrors, but how will he handle his greatest enemy: the full image of ‘another’ handsome male?

You take a deep breath and say it. “Who do you see standing there, Hawks?”

One beat.

Unlike the previous ones, Hawks doesn’t instantly answer, and that makes you anxious.

Two beats.

You really like this mirror. Please don’t destroy it.

“Me.”

Wha...you can’t believe it. 

“Hawks...Hawks, you did it!” 

He lets out a silly squawking noise when you roughly embrace him. “Well, this is embarrassing. I really was just fighting myself this entire time?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you smother his face with rapid-fire kisses. “I’m so proud of you.”

--

The two of you celebrated at the nearby park, feeding ducks at the pond.

“Sorry that I’ve been stressing you out all this time. I always thought I was doing you a favor, keeping the house safe and all that,” Hawks said as he tossed seeds into the water. The ducks gulped them down in a flash.

You decided to feed the shy fish instead. “It’s alright, I know your bird instincts get the best of you sometimes. I’m glad we got through this together.”

“Gosh, this is worse than the time I picked a fight with that stuffed...” He trailed off.

You were about to ask what distracted him until you saw his face. He was frozen, glaring fiercely down at the water.

At his reflection.

Your cheerful mood quickly switched to something more terrified. “Hawks, no.”

He didn’t appear to hear you, choosing instead to threaten the mysterious figure in the water. “You got a problem, buddy?” His wings were slowly spreading out for extra intimidation. He smirked when his reflection did the same. “Tough guy, huh? I know your game. Trying to hide among the fish and pounce on my girl when I’m not looking, are you?”

Already panicking, you grab his shoulders to try and pull him away. “Stop, Hawks. It’s you. Just step away from the pond and calm down.”

“No,” Hawks turns to you. “Don’t fall for it, dove. This is the real deal, I can see it in his eyes. You think I’m stupid enough to get fooled by this reflection bullshit again?”

Your eyes awkwardly look to the side while your mouth opens, then closes.

For a second, Hawks looks genuinely hurt, but before you can say anything, he returns his attention to the water with newfound fury. “You made my own lovebird doubt me, you son of a bitch!”

It happened so fast. The ducks quacked loudly and flapped away in shock when he suddenly dove into the water.

“Hawks!”  You watched him splash wildly in the water, at first attempting to strike at the rival that he could no longer see, but his anger was replaced by fear when he realized his situation.

“Help! I can’t swim!” The number 2 hero of Japan was screaming and flailing in a duck pond, in serious danger of drowning.

You didn’t even bother to take the time to appreciate how absolutely ridiculous this scene was. You already removed your shoes and hopped into the water, dodging his swinging arms and wings to grab and pull him back up on the grass. Thank goodness for his light hollow bones.

Hawks was shivering on his hands and knees, spitting out water and...a small unlucky fish that you quickly picked up and tossed back into the pond.

“Bastard almost killed me,” he sputtered. 

“No, you almost killed you. This is no different than the mirrors, Hawks. My god, do I have to teach you how to not fight water now?!” 

He shook out his wings while you squeezed out as much water as possible out of your shirt. “Baby, you didn’t see him. You didn’t see that annoying look on his face and those badass wings. He was a threat. I don’t know where he went but-”

You notice him eyeing the water again, where his reflection is slowly reappearing as the ripples calm.

“There he is!”

“Hawks don’t do it!”

He did it.

With another splash and more confused quacks, he was thrashing in the water again, and when he lost sight of the winged stranger for the second time...

“Help! I can’t swim!”

[nightwingshero]

WIP Tag

I was tagged by @minilev and @simonxriley, thank you!!!

Tagging: @strafethesesinners @water-writings @pen-in-hand @theknifegame @chyrstis @smithandrogers @lilwritingraven @chuckhansen @fadedjacket @geronimo-11 @scungilliwoman @shellibisshe @witchofinterest @witchesconstellation @aceghosts @archetypesinthefog and whoever wants to share!

So...my Far Cry 5 babes are coming back.

Wren’s first Baptism and, if you look closely, Randy’s cameo/debut. 

“Don’t kill her! John wants them alive, use the bliss bullets!” Bliss bullets? I pulled my pistol back out, taking aim from around the tree to return fire. I didn’t understand what they were talking about, all I knew was I needed to get the hell out of here, and quickly. I was outnumbered and injured, clearly at a disadvantage. I was trying to come up with a solution, anything, that would help me get out of this mess. A panic attack was beginning to work its way in, and I fought as hard as I could to keep from hyperventilating. I reloaded and my vision swam. Reds and greens becoming vibrant, making anything solid turn blurry. Small lights danced in my vision, I couldn’t tell if they were stars or lightening bugs, or something else entirely. Was I going blind? I began to feel tired, my body becoming heavy. I stumbled from my cover, my mind trying to tell me that that was a terrible idea, but I suddenly couldn’t remember why.

“Ow.” I said as I landed on my knees, my hands palm up as I began to attempt to study them. My body teetered off balance, and I tried to catch myself, rocks and twigs cutting into the very palms I was looking at merely seconds before. I heard cheering far away, but I couldn’t remember where I was or whom I was with. I finally collapsed, my body now too much to hold up. My arms and legs were jelly, my brain like static. My eye began to close as I felt hands lift me. I tried to reach for something before everything went completely black and I was gone.

 “This one?” a male voice echoed as I fought against heavy eyelids to see a blurred night sky. I saw a man in the corner of my eye with a wool sweater and messy hair, pointing to something on the ground.

“No. This one.” Another male voiced, his voice deep and well-spoken. Had it been any other situation, I would dare say it was soothing.

The scruffy man found his way to me, leaning over as he studied me with confusion. “Doesn’t seem very worthy.”

“It is not for us to judge.” The other man came into view, and he was much more put together than his companion. His dark hair was neat, and beard trimmed. He donned a trench coat, giving him an air of importance. “Deliver her unto the waters. The Cleansing begins tonight.” The grungy man reached for me just as I faded back to blackness.

The falling out with John that leads to the Atonement

“I warned you, Wren. I told—”

“Yeah, you told me to stay away. And maybe then it’ll keep the resistance from Jacob’s region, right? That’s what it’s all about, right?” I demanded as my heart tugged painfully. His brow furrowed and suddenly, just like that, I was looking at a mask.

“My brothers mean everything to me, Deputy. I’ll do anything for them.”

“Except open your heart, right?” I sneered as I ignored the jab that I felt at him using my title. “Joseph asked you to love, but you can’t, can you? That’s what he had said to you that night you almost drowned me. ‘You have to love them, John.’ How’s that going for you? How’s Hudson?” He said nothing for a moment, just stared at me. That only made it worse, my insecurities screaming at me, forcing my panic and anger to grow.

“She’s right where you left her.” He replied lowly and my breath staggered as I felt the preverbal punch in the gut. I clenched my fists as tears pooled in my eyes.

“Right. That’s on me. How stupid of me, right? It was so easy for you, wasn’t it?” His brow furrowed a bit before he hid his confusion once more, but it was enough to keep me going. “That’s all it was to you, some fucking game. The ultimate conquest. Get the Deputy to fall in your bed, make her fall for you while the resistance suffered for it. I should’ve fucking known better.” A flash of hurt crossed his features and my mouth went dry as I regretted it immediately. But he only just glared at me and took a step forward.

“What happens between my brothers and I is none of your concern. I wanted you to join—”

“Oh, right. How could I forget about that? Manipulating me by luring me into your fucking bed—”

“I didn’t hear you complaining!” he snapped.

“No, I suppose you didn’t because for once in my fucking life, I believed that someone could fucking love me!” I screamed. “I thought I finally found someone who didn’t ask me for anything, who didn’t want something from me. God, I was so fucking wrong! You’re just like them! You manipulated and lied to me to try and get me to join this stupid cult of yours, so your brother wouldn’t kick you out!”

“I have never lied to you!” he snapped, and he took another step forward as he pointed at me. “I may be a lot of things, but a liar is not one of them. And don’t you dare use Joseph against me. You don’t know anything—"

“Oh?” I laughed bitterly as I took a step forward, forcing him back a step. “I know that you’re scared, John. So fucking scared because Joseph tied our fates together, and I’m still running around causing hell. You were so scared that you fucked me, manipulated me, thinking that it would keep me on a leash, but guess what? It didn’t work, did it?! No! Your brother is fucking insane—" He caught me off by chuckling, dark and bitter. He looked at me with a twisted smirk, anger burning in his eyes. There was a darkness coiling, I could practically taste the wrath coming off him in waves, and I knew then that the line had been crossed.

“What if Joseph was right? Did you ever stop to think about that?” He taunted lowly. “Everyone thinks he’s crazy, but he’s not. Look around you, the world is on the brink. You can feel it in your bones. Look at the headlines. Look at who’s in charge!” he yelled suddenly, making me jump a bit. He grabbed his key, making a show of it. His knuckles turning white as he held it tightly, I thought for sure it would break. “You want this key because you think you’re saving people, but they’re already safe. We have a plan. You don’t understand. You don’t believe. You don’t CARE!” He screamed as he turned away from me, knocking a stack of files to the floor before placing his hands on his hips. His heavy breathing making his shoulders rise and fall rapidly. “So fucking wrathful, you’re looking for every reason to unleash it on anyone who gets a step too close. I don’t think you care about anything else. It doesn’t fucking matter to you, it never did. Our fates being tied…what consequences that come with it. You’d rather let it consume you, even after everything. You’d rather have the emptiness than…this…and that is disappointing.”

My heart broke, shattering into pieces as the silence hung heavy. I took a step back as the tears fell. I turned, grabbing my gear, and ran out the door. I fished out the keys from my pocket as I jumped into my jeep. My fingers shook as I fiddled with my seatbelt. I jumped as I heard the slam of my passenger door. Turning I saw Randy as he put his seatbelt on, giving me a quick nod once he was settled in. I wanted to ask but thought better of it. I just needed to get the fuck out of here. I started the car, put it in drive, and slammed on the gas. Something in me wanted nothing more than to turn around, to apologize. I wanted him, wanted to take it all back. Kiss him until we were both forgiven, everything forgotten. But I couldn’t. There was nothing to go back to.

“Deputy!” Jess called over the radio. “We’re heading to the Jessop Conservatory. You coming?” I looked at Randy and he looked back. John was expecting me to go to Jacob’s region. If he were to send anyone after me, he would send them there. For once, I was thankful for Jess’s timing. I sighed as I picked up the radio.

“Yeah, I’m coming.”

Wren’s fight with Faith

“He had to choose, you know. Between saving a Herald—the sister of the Baptist…or you. He chose you.” I turned back with eyes wide, and her tears finally fell. “I thought the Father was taking from me in the beginning, taking who I was away from me. But that wasn’t true. He was giving me the chance to help others the way he had helped me. He offered me salvation. And I want the same for you.” She tilted her head slightly. “I know you see John in the Bliss; I’ve known for a while.” She looked back over my shoulder once again. “If you kill me, Wren, you will have to kill the others because that’s how it has to be. There would be no going back, the choice would be made. It would hurt him; it would hurt John deeply and put things so far into motion that you won’t be able change it. You know this, don’t you?”

I look at the river, flowing swiftly and offering a soothing melody. “Yes,” I whispered. “I can feel it.”

“Which is why you’re standing here in front of me.” She whispered. “I know that you feel it, and we both know that Jacob would be next. Instead of just hurting one side, you will hurt both. You will ruin John, while destroying yourself in that process. One path will lead to John, the other to heartbreak. Is it worth it? Because if it is, continue. Kill me, I won’t fight you. But you can go back, it’s not too late. It’s not too late for both of you.”

[urskekyagvi]

MalVa Week: Campsite

@malvaweek

A hunter trudged into the clearing, bearing his latest kill upon his back. Blood stained the grass behind him, making a grisly trail through the forest. The arduff's corpse hung across his shoulder, a once majestic and imposing predator now someone else's prey; but that was the way of things. 

SkekMal was all too aware of the way of things. Life and death were a never ending cycle, like an abiranariba serpent eating itself. Even he knew the sacred geometry; even a hunter had to know the signs. He swore under his breath as his knees buckled. A stumble, but at the end of it neither he nor the kill were on the ground. 

He hadn't taken this beast's life without cost. He had miraculously remained unscathed, but the weeks of tracking, setting snares, and the final confrontation had left him exhausted. Only the scent of smoke kept the very last reserves of strength he had left fueled; smoke meant fire. Fire- usually- meant campsite, and campsite meant safety and rest. He paid no mind to the thought that there might already be someone there: gelfling and podling were easy enough to dispose of. 

But now his only thought was rest. He dragged himself and his kill through the woods until the orange light of a flame was visible past the treeline. Finally he was close enough to feel the heat upon his skin, and there he deposited his prey and collapsed. Still, even in the midst of exhaustion he didn't abandon wariness. 

He left one eye open, examining the space he had found himself in. From his position, he could see where the land sloped downward towards a stream, and near the fire there was a pile of leaves and branches and a large quilt, big enough for him to crawl under and curl up. He took a few deep breaths and rose to his feet, sniffing the air for any unusual scents. 

No gelfling. No podling. Nothing but the smell of the forest, nearly drowned by the scent of blood he had tainted this peaceful place with. He was reminded of his kill, and rose fully to take care of it. It didn't take long; his knives had been properly sharpened before the hunt, and in short order he had his trophies and something to roast over the fire. 

He laid the skin out to dry and finally sat down on a stone near the flames. It was only natural skeksis paranoia and instinct that kept his eyes open now, though he hadn't smelt or heard a thing for hours. The endless symphony of insects and various birds rang in his ears; a good sign, really, but now his mind didn't trust it; No one just abandoned a campsite like this, not without reason. 

He rolled his shoulders, feeling the stiff ache of action impeding his movement. Dried blood coated his armor and clothes, and really, a bath in that stream would be a welcome luxury. The only question remained: could he afford it? 

He looked once again, poking around for anything at all that may betray the slightest sign of life or deception; nothing greeted him back. No traps, no leftover marks or traces of the former occupant of the site. He was alone. His searching had proven this as fact, but his mind would not let him rest. 

And yet, while the danger was not immediate, he could allow himself some relaxation...and the stream was a rather tempting sight. Its cool waters cleansed his body and mind and soothed his parched throat. He cleaned his armor and clothes, and when he had gotten back the meat was ready to be eaten. 

He didn't bother thanking the creature for the life it had lost, for it had not given it willingly; such a tradition was a soppy gelfling notion, something they did to convince their guilt-ridden minds that the supposed soul of the creature would return to its creator. SkekMal knew better. The beast had no soul. It hunted to keep itself alive, itself prey to death. 

SkekMal hunted for a similar reason, and in that similarity there was a respect. He bit into the meat with a ravenous appetite, feeling the arduff's life become part of his own. Nothing would be wasted. Its flesh and organs he could eat, its bones would be made into trophies, its skin would hang upon his wall, a tapestry to commemorate his victory. 

By the time he had eaten his fill for the evening the stars had come out. The Sisters shown their light down upon him, and the shadows from the fire flickered in a mesmerizing sway across the trees. Exhaustion weighed down upon him like a beast on his shoulders, digging its venomous claws into his eyes and making his movements sluggish and slow. The sleeping pile, with its soft quilt, looked more tempting by the moment…

He was obliged to lay upon it. It would have been a waste not to, and he despised waste. It was just as soft as it looked from a distance, easy upon his aching muscles yet supportive enough to spare his bones. His body sank into it, and the quilt kept him comfortably warm as he gazed up at the stars. 

Worry did not stalk the corners of his mind any longer. Whoever had left the campsite here, clearly it had been intended to be his, by fate or accident he no longer cared. His eyes closed in a way they had not in a very, very long time, heavy instead of flitting open at the very first sound. Sleep took the night watch. 

When he awoke the next morning, upon the first light of dawn, he felt rested. His bones didn't ache, and his mind was sharper than ever without paranoia or weariness making it so, and when he stretched his muscles were only mildly sore. It was a delightfully brisk morning all around him. 

He rose to a sitting position, prepping for another full body stretch, when his tail curled against something. It was wooden, but much too straight to be a stick. Suspicion bit into his senses. He grasped the thing tightly in his hand and snatched it from under the covers. 

It was an arrow, beautifully decorated, better as a trinket than a weapon or tool. It was lightweight, the shaft made of a white nut wood carved in thin leaf-like shapes and gilded vines; the fletching at its end could only be from the tail feathers of a rare albino shrookill; but the true beauty of it laid in the point, a sun-bleached bone. 

SkekMal glared at the beautiful thing and then at the clearing around him. There was even something cooking on the fire already. Someone had been here- in fact, had always been here. Someone had laid this out for him...someone was trying to catch him. 

And he knew who. 

"Come on out, Archer!" He snapped at the trees, "Reveal yourself! I've seen through your little ruse." 

A shrub rustled much too close nearby. He would have jumped, but barely managed to restrain himself in order to save face; he couldn't let anyone know he had let himself be deceived so easily...Though by the almost self-satisfied look on UrVa's face, it was a futile endeavor. 

"It is no ruse," the Archer said calmly, giving his Other a small bow, "I thought you could use the rest." 

SkekMal clutched the trinket he held even tighter, until his knuckles were almost as white as the shaft. He fumed in silence, his teeth grinding together in agitation. How dare he. The sheer audacity this other half of him had, so unlike the complacent sobriety of the rest of the urru; SkekMal found it annoying to no end...and yet he couldn't help but appreciate the gesture. 

The anger faded quickly, having never been genuine to begin with. In truth, all he felt at that moment was gratitude. He ceded some of the tension in the grip he had around the arrow, holding it up gingerly to examine it in the light of the rising suns. 

"...Indeed I could," he said, "that arduff did not come down easily...These feathers, where did you get them from?" 

UrVa smiled and beckoned for SkekMal to follow him towards the campfire. The arduff meat was reheated to a perfect temperature, the outside skin crispy but not burnt. SkekMal cut himself a large hunk off the rear thigh and then laid another piece of it before his Other. UrVa paused to look at it, and it was SkekMal's turn to be smug. 

"Don't deceive yourself, Archer," he said, tearing a bite out of his own portion, "the Master isn't here. I saw the way you were eyin' it." 

UrVa did eat after that, but said a short prayer first, nonetheless. He took a small bite out of what SkekMal had given, pausing again to savor the taste with another sort of reverence. SkekMal let him, though he had not helped to bring down the kill. 

"...An albino shrookill," UrVa said after his slow chewing had finally ceased. 

"And where did you find an albino shrookill?" SkekMal couldn't hide his fascination. He had only heard the faintest rumors of such a thing existing, but had never seen it for himself. 

"Where shrookills can often be found," was UrVa's blunt response before he took another bite of his meal.

SkekMal knew what he really meant, but on account of the good mood he was in he let it pass without so much as a growl. This meat was delicious. 

"What of the bone?" 

Here there was a longer pause than usual between chewing and speaking, and for the sake of the answer SkekMal allowed it, too. When UrVa spoke again, his voice held a hint of something almost playful. 

"A piece of something you had lost and forgotten long ago," he said, and took another bite. 

SkekMal had to scour his brain for the answer to the riddle, another act of solecism he allowed only because of a well rested body and full belly. Something he had lost long ago…He studied the piece of bone, hoping a moment of scrutiny would unveil the answer. Lost and forgotten long ago…

He turned it over in the light, and that was when he noticed a familiar tooth mark, and then the shape revealed itself to him. He fitted the little arrow head in his hand on a mental overlay of an animal skull, and came to realize that this would have been at the apex of the sagittal crest. The memory inundated his head like the wash of a tidal wave. 

"My first kill!" The Hunter laughed and slapped his knee. "I never did get to keep the trophy. The others tore it apart so thoroughly I thought even the crawlies would have a hard time finding all the bits!" 

UrVa nodded. "I myself almost reached the limit of my patience trying to find that one shard." 

SkekMal snorted, without malice. "You? I thought there was no limit to your patience." 

UrVa gave him a look that was as close to arch as a mystic could get. SkekMal vowed to get a better reaction out of him later. There would be plenty of time, if this one interaction went well. It was like hunting in a way: stalk your prey, set your snares, wait, and then pounce. 

But it never ended between them, this eternal game of chase and capture, Hunter and Archer; and SkekMal would never admit that he enjoyed that prospect most of all.

[tarasylnin-lavellan]

Justice’s Decision

"You are not the hounds that I was expecting," balefully glowing blue eyes watched the pair from the trees.

"DIRTHAMENS SHADOWY BALLS DON'T DO THAT

!" Harel was near panicked by the sudden words. Cole turned to the source an exclaimed "Your here!" Tara stepped further into the weak dawn light painting her pale face in the washed out illumination. "You've come sniffing around for me, Da'len. Unfortunately, you've trekked all this way for nothing. You should leave before the inquisition truly comes bearing down its arms. I would not want to see you bloody your hands." Tara looked worn to the end of breaking and her hands shook as she rested one against a tree. "Because they will come, they will have too, they will come with dogs and armor; and I won't have them hunt you too you must run, run any direction but mine." 

Harel looked at the woman before her, eyebrows climbing in frank astonishment is this truly what she believed that a hoard of hunters was on her trail? "Are you daft? Mad? Tara we came here to find you to stop you from running away! No one is hunting you!" Tara's head snapped toward Harel and she flinched at the sudden movement 

"Not yet they aren't, not yet, you did get here remarkably fast however. I don't know how you found me so quickly, but for your own safety you have to run." Cole’s weak but insistent voice answered Tara's confusion "We found you when you didn't want to be found, we know you're hurting and we want to help. Please! Let me help!" Tara snarled deep in her chest an animal wounded near to madness " I didn't want to be found for good reason! You knew that Dalen, I won't have you hurt because of ME!" As the turmoil in Tara grew a deep blue light coiled out from her, darker than the previous time its darkness reflecting her own. "Just go..." the words were tired and sad. 

Cole and Harel stand side by side as Tara attempts to frighten the pair off, but they're stock still, their faces unchanging even as the blue wisps lick out at them threateningly. Harel watched the display meant to panic them "we're not leaving." Cole spoke softly hearing the desperate hurt in Tara the rents in her soul. "burdens break your back till your body aches. We will help carry. We must..." Tara face goes blank as she thinks of returning the pain too much. "I cannot go back, and I cannot stop them from hunting me you can't be in the path of danger not for me. No one else is dying because I was made into a weapon No one I. will. not. allow. it."  Harel started to feel an indignant anger rising in her this damned woman "WILL YOU PUT THAT STUPID FUCKING SELFLESSNESS DOWN FOR ONE SECOND!!! her fists clenched tightly in frustration "you are not a weapon, YOURE TARA! You're so much stronger than you think, please, please don't lose yourself!

Cole could feel the choking fear the panic coiling its hateful tendrils around Tara. "I don't like this. It feels cold, like wind before the storm." Harel held her hands out to Tara in supplication "no one's going to hurt you, please, just come back. No one will get you, well make sure of it please don't run away." Cole felt it then the old memory the screaming of a child taken by Hate. "There are no templars! No voices screaming! You don't have to run, shouting mamae. You don't have to.....

Tara felt herself losing control and gripped her head in dread. " They will follow you here, I made a mistake, I am a fool. I never should have allowed a Templar to love me, just even think that I was normal, that I was even close to worthy of being normal! Just go..." The light of her bound soul swirled darker wrapping close to her. Harel called trying to break the hold of the panic "you're a lot of things but a fool isn't one. you need to calm down, you're scaring Cole. And me, just a bit. You're not going to hurt us and we're afraid but we're afraid FOR you. Please. Calm down" Tara's eyes closed and tears streamed down her face "my fault, I am too blame, I knew better" she fell to her knees "I knew better. Cole felt the hurt old and jagged wrapped in layers of walls now exposed and screaming monster, a monster I am a monster. "don't drown in yourself. The lion roars in grief not in rage. Please. Don't hurt yourself, it's hurting us, hurting him." Tara choked on the fear on the hatred she felt inside " His eyes I CANT no... No I can't I just hurt people I can't" she curled around the pain "this is my fault." Cole reached trying to tug on the pain but it was so old so omnipresent that he couldnt tug it loose. "you're a sword and a scalpel and a shield. You don't hurt because you want to, like Erimond and Samson, you hurt because you have to. You protect and pretend to step above the thing in you, to be more than just the breath and the purpose. Stop hurting yourself!" A ragged sob tore from Tara "I hurt everything I touch! I cannot go back not now not ever, I cannot bear to the see fear in his eyes.... I cannot watch him break inside."  

Cole felt it within her the desperate need to be accepted for this to be a bad dream. Tara wanted to stay but she was so afraid of it she ran away. But one person was there, a light shining in dark forest of her mind. "breathe. This isn't you. It's the fear, the forgotten one speaking. You can't let it talk over you and control everything. You're losing yourself to what you think will happen. Lions roar but they don't bite without reason, the serpent curls around his paws and he's silent." He conjured the thought of Dorian like a Talisman, trying to calm her down.

Tara latched onto the one person she knew didn't fear her with the desperate strength of a drowning person. "Dorian? What could he say? how could he" Her eyes began to lighten in color with her brothers mention. Cole reached for it pulling the threads in her "he shouts over the noise of the old songs, the trauma of the circle, the fires in Kirkwall. He screams instead of hissing, his love and his hate all so that the lion knows, knowledge dripping like sweat when you held him, shaking craving the blue song. He learned its name and now the lion has a shape on his tongue to call your eyes." Tara stares at the boy in desperate, sad, hope mute. But the light has returned to crystal blue and slowed curling around her like mist again. Cole reaches for the hurt and speaks "Put your sword down, the scales don't have to fill with blood. You fear the inevitable even when it isn't to be. It's ok to fear, to be afraid of what might happen, but it won't." Cole stares forward, ice blue eyes unmoving and unblinking as if he speaks to Tara and yet, not to her at all. As if he speaks to someone else entirely "Don't be afraid but don't be angry. You're safe, Da'len."

Tara wanted to believe, she needed to believe but everything she had ever learned told her otherwise. She whispers "How could he ever see past..." Cole watched her with sadness in his eyes "Monsters are real, he's seen them before. He needs to look again, like a mouse who's lost its tail to a trap, he needs to see, to know that it's not the same. Love is love and you'll give him back his tail." Tara knelt trying to pull the frayed pieces of her mind back together. Her mothers voice spoke in her heart, and she looked up "I cannot go back to the castle, not until I know,  I cannot trap myself there." Cole watches as she tries to accept a new path and his voice is firm for once "we'll protect you. You won't be trapped, I promise. And if you are then...." Harel stepped up next to Cole face still and stoic for once "then we'll let you leave for good and we won't follow you. We'll even keep those people off your trail. Just....trust us."  

Tara knew the path she had to take not returning and not fleeing. She had to try, she had to give him a chance, as terrifying as that was. "if he... wants answers that's his right but, he has to meet me outside of that place. My mother would kill me if I walked into a cage willingly." Cole nods feeling the old memories "Hands on my shoulder she raises her voice, but not to frighten to lecture. Don't let the shem keep you in submission. We are the People, and never again shall we submit. Eyes stern but loving, she would reprimand me if I allowed myself to be foolish." Tara nods looking at the pair decision firming in her eyes. "He can meet me, alone, in the Emerald Graves I will wait."

Harel watches as Tara breathes heavily, her purple eyes for once wide in fear instead of narrowed in disinterest. It was a shocking sight to see one so strong reduced to this mess but it was understandable. She walked this thin line, always keeping her guard up. Now that she was tired, it was only natural for her to regress. "You've chosen an interesting place, Hah'ren. May the grave of Mahariel give your conversation the strength to pull through this. Would.....would you like one of us to stay?" Tara shook her head staggering to her feet "No, no. This must be seen to alone. But thank you. I have to face him by myself."

Cole watches as he always does with his moping face drawn low, sad to leave Tara alone after such suffering. The Inquisitor could see the pain in his eyes like a wounded Halla. Tara looked at the young man "it has to be alone Cole if...if things go badly I want to.. I want it to be alone I will go there and wait This has to be done right."

Cole nods, his hat dipping down in a short stroke and never once turning upwards. Harel comforts the boy with a hand on his shoulder, trying to bring him back from his sadness of leaving the Inquisitor alone. "We're here" it is all he says before he shimmers a light green, disappearing into the darkness to find his way towards Skyhold.

Harel shakes her head, an eyebrow raised as she mutters, "Love how he expects me to keep up with his invisible ass." Its the last thing Harel says that barely draws a smirk from Tara. Just barely. The trees gather around the storm mage as she bids her companions goodbye, setting off with the same heavy heart but so much less apprehension. She makes her winding way to the heart of the vast forest feet silent on the ground. She is a phantom in this place, her path undecided. As night falls around her the shadows dull the sharpened edges of reality. she sets up camp on a high rock bluff in the great trees the song of the branches soothing and sad. Let this be the place she thinks if I have to go with Falon'din let it be here.

Cole and Harel return to skyhold quickly leading the disgruntled Hart with them. Dorian bustled through the crowd his face drawn and afraid. "please PLEASE tell me that you didn't lose her."

Harel folds her arms, appraising the worried Tevinter before speaking "She's fine and safe and super fucking rattled. But safe. She wants to meet Cullen in the Emerald Graves; her territory instead of here since you know....its kind of uninhabitable to her at the moment. Dorian lets a whoosh of held breath at the words of the half breed. "She is alive, and she is thinking at least." Cole interrupts the thought though pushing past Harel the Qunari-elf is confused at the sudden movement before he starts speaking as well. His voice is tinged with emotion as he mimics Harel's voice "I'll kill that curly haired bastard Ill shock his shit for what he's done the fucking templar!" Dorian lunged forward covering the boys mouth with his hand. Leveling a glare that could've frozen the sun at Harel he hissed "stop thinking in such vulgar terms!" Cole subsided and Dorian stood thinking "Now.....She wants to meet him in the Graves? Oh Isa'ma'lan, you make everything so planned, don't you. I've tried doing as much damage control as I can from here but...I suppose we'll have to trust what Tara will do next is the right thing. Kaffas, she worries me so."

Dorian strode alone heading for the Commanders Tower, better from him after all. Pushing open the door he sees Cullen standing behind his desk hands braced on its surface his face drawn and haggard. At the mages approach Cullen's head snaps up a worried flash in his eyes. "Is there word?!" Dorian held up a manicured hand "Pack you essentials, if you want to speak to Tara, she wants you, and you alone, in the Emerald Graves. I don't have to say do not try anything after that little talk we had, now do I?" Cullen blinks his brow furrowing "why didn't she come back here?" Dorian rolled his eyes in exasperation "The tactician that you are should know the reason. Come here, where you are? After your terrible reaction? She probably thinks you'll try to kill her and we both know how much that will hurt the both of you. At least out there, there's control in the place she feels strongest.

All right my lovelies one more chapter to this whenever I can bully my sad tired artists brain into making more ✨words✨

after that I will put all of them together into one continuous story line 

as always all the love and thanks in the whole world to @w-h-4-t for the dialog help Ir lath ma Da’len 

[meegeemee26]

Going Home...?

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DISCLAIMER : I wrote this story, forgetting that the Prefect/MC doesn’t wield magic. But after seeing the other characters overblot, I wonder what if the prefect themselves overblot? Just... take this HC as if the MC had magic, just that they unlocked this “magic” based of the stress they have been holding in because of a decision that have to make. Cliche, I guess, but I wanna write this for a bit of angst and writing this idea before I go cram homework and revision for the rest of the day. 

Also, I have not seen the EN translations after Chapter 4, so I’m not too sure about how MC would interact with them, but I’ll try my best! 

Hope you enjoy!

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Screams of horror and panic filled Night Raven College as students of the many dorms ran around, scatter-brained. There were trees set ablaze, buildings collapsing at every corner students turned , and a storm swirling in once a clear blue sky. The staff members were trying to calm students in the chaos, evacuating as many as they could. However, a red-head managed to slip past, running around in a frenzy, heading straight to the courtyard.

“OI! Where’s the Prefect?! I can’t find them!” Ace panted under his breath as he saw Deuce and Jack looking around, lost and confused as well. They did not know either, till the other dorm leaders and members gathered. “Have you seen the prefect?! Someone just went into Overblot!” Kalim exclaimed.“Where could they be? They should have rushed in by now to help us out...” Trey questioned as well. 

Before the group of students waved their magic pens to attack the overblotted student, a certain cat crawled in. But... he was crawling, panting and exhausted. Not panicking, not screaming, not jumping... he just needed some aid. 

“The prefect... is who you’re looking at right now...” Grim muttered before passing out. 

“Looking at right now...,” Riddle, confused by the statement, furrowed his eyebrows in frustration at Grim before a ball of fire came, dispersing the group in multiple directions. Followed by a mini hurricane and a large wave of water, Leona was groaning about how much his clothes were soiled before Floyd gasped in shock, 

“Ebi-chan?” 

Everyone just stood where there were for a good while, trying to comprehend what and how the ever friendly, witty and kind Ramshackle Head would be able to break out like this.  Stress? Anxiety? What could be ? 

“ I DON’T WANT TO LEAVE!” A distressed scream rang through the thunder as another lighting blot came shooting down.  

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“Prefect, please take a sit. A year has passed since you arrived... How did you like it here?” Headmaster Crowley asked as he poured a glass of water in front of me.

“It has been great!” 

Great? Great alone could not define what I have experienced in here. In Twisted Wonderland, in Night Raven College. Learning magic? A school based off movie villians? I won’t say this was what I dreamt off, but spending a year here has been so much better than what I have on the other side. 

“You and your stupid fantasies! What are you, a child?” 

Back at the other universe, I was bullied and mocked, for being a “child” - Liking Disney animated Movies, singing Love is an Open Door”by myself like a mad person, and to top it off, carrying Disney-themed merchandise anytime I could. Living in any animated movie would be a dream for me. People would laugh and give me the funny stares whenever I walked down the corridor. People would shove me into the toilets for being immature, looking down on me, thinking that “I won’t change from this immature, childish, naive state.”.... It definitely hurt, no joke there... So I usually head home, head lowered as my body sinks into the mattress of my bed. 

As the bullying got worse, and my father started to work overtime, while my mother was working overseas, I have hit the bottom of bottom, probably deeper than the deep blue sea itself. I sometimes stare at the ceiling, wondering where I could find an Ursala - sign a contract in exchange to get away from this shit hole. Maybe a genie too - One : No more mockery, no more being shoved into a corner. Two : Just, living the perfect life of singing happily and conquering lands. and keep the last wish when I need it most. Letting my pillow soak up my tears, I whispered...

“I wish I could leave this behind...” before going back to wailing and drifting off into a slumber. 

Little did I know that I woke up in a coffin, to be brought into Twisted Wonderland and its Night Raven college, a place inspired by Disney Villians. Even if Ace and Grim were a handful at the beginning, the rest of the year in the school has truly been a chaotic, memorable one. The friends I have made, the dorm leaders I have helped overcome their overblot, and the chaos I get tossed into, I would not trade them for the world. Who knew being a little twisted would be so good? 

“Sorry if I’m being rude, but... why did you ask me to come up here to your office alone?”

“Yes, about that. I thought this piece of news would be more personal to you. It’s not bad news, I assure you. In fact, it is splendid news!” 

“What could it be?” I asked, trying to figure out what he was going to ask. 

“I found a way for you to get home! Back to your universe! Oh, the ever-kindhearted professor has spent countless hours building this mirror.” He stood up as he pulled a piece of red cloth to reveal a mirror. It was like the one at the dorm-sorting ceremony, but it showed my room, my school, my neighbourhood. 

“Pretty neat, isn’t it-” 

“No... No... I can’t...,” My gaze met the floor and my hands balled into fits. As my fingernails sunk into my skin, I could feel my heart pounding. That SAME feeling of fear and anger rose, and as I brought my knees up to my chest, I felt panic, wondering life back there. 

I can’t bring my friends there, I can’t help in battles that don’t involve magic, I can’t think of another day spending in that hell hole ! I...I- I’m just nothing over there! Nothing but a walking target, anticipating another attack that I know I can’t avoid!

“Prefect... Do you want some time to think it over?” Ah crap, the Headmaster noticed. This should not concern him at all. It’s mine to deal with ,right? After all, he was the one to build this for me out of his good will...

“Yes, please. I’ll take my leave now. Thank you for your present...” I got up, and left. Grim pounced onto me the moment my foot stepped out of the office. “So? So? What was it about?” He demanded an answer before I replied with a small, bitter smile, “Oh, it’s nothing. Come on... I’m tired. Let’s head back to the dorm...”

I can’t let anyone know, until I feel it is right. I still have time to think about it, anyway... 

“Hey! Wanna eat lunch later?”

“Sorry, I have extra revision to do...”

“Wanna go for a carpet ride later?”

“Ah, sorry. Not feeling it...” 

Offer after offer, I had to turn them down. Grim would go instead as I needed more time to decide. Later on, Headmaster came in to tell me that the mirror could not hold for long. In a week or so, the portal may close. 

Stay... or leave? 

Stay in this wonderful world... or leave it behind? 

Stay... or leave? 

Stay in this wonderful world... or leave and go back and start anew? 

Little did I know the last thing I saw before passing out was Grim backing away from me and the sound of a shattered mirror behind me. 

.... “I don’t want to leave...” 

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“.... They’re breathing... Get... Ramsha...dorm!”

“..I thought they could not... magic...” 

“Magic asi... they are...WAIT-”

“Ow... my head..” I woke up, only to be greeted by the familiar sight of their bedroom ceiling, and a vase of flowers beside me.“What happe-”

“GUYS THE PREFECT IS AWAKE!” Three voices shouted, followed by a stampede, and ten people trying to squeeze through the door. Amused, I sat up with the remaining energy they have, and gave the biggest smile they could. After being bombarded by questions like “Are you alright?!” and being fed with heartwarming dishes, the tears of comfort and love came out one by one. I could not bring these back to the other side right? 

“I have been keeping this away from you. But,... I am given the choice to go back to where I came from...” I trailed off before Jade cut me short and that everyone knows about everything. The mirror, my life back at the other side... everything. 

“I’m sorry... I’m sorry that....I’m sorry that I- I hurt all of you! I’m sorry...” Words could not form the remorse, guilt I felt till I felt like I was being assaulted by a ball of familiar fluff, followed by my hands being held in comfort. 

“You know you could have just told us right?” Leona rubbed it in , only to have everyone shoot death glares at him. “IT WAS HARD TO EXPLAIN ALRIGHT?! I CAN’T JUST... JUST ABANDON YOU ALL!” I choked between my words before Grim came off. 

“He’s right. Without you, all of us won’t be here. You’re the one who helped us with our overblot, now let us help you...” Before I could refuse, Grim did not let me speak further. I could only mutter a ‘thank you’ before drowning myself in my tears again. “Well, who knew human emotion could be such a weakness?” “Spare me from your Book of Weaknesses, Azul.” 

--------------------------------

“Sorry for bothering you Headmaster. But I would like to stay here in Night Raven College, even in Twisted Wonderland. Please!” I bowed, with my face to the ground, closing my eyes, hoping for the best. I just hope that he is not too angry with me, after all of the effort put into making the mirror for me to head home. Please...

“....Alright. After all, if another overblot incident were to take place, who else could we turn to?” He agreed! Thank God... He walked over to the mirror, casted a spell for it to be completely shut down. I am staying here, for now, till I’m ready to go back... 

[libertydevitto]

please tell me... the top five gayest Billy Joel songs. I know it is NOT easy to narrow down and while Allentown is not a gay SONG it has an INCREDIBLY gay video and I think it's fair to take that into account in a ranking.

okay, I had to really think about this, and it became a top 10, sort of, kind of, top 12 I guess. Yes shoutout to Allentown for being the gayest music video of all time. 

Code of Silence. This song was written about someone in the closet and you can’t convince me otherwise. Helps that it was co-written by legend and ally Cyndi Lauper. This is the only song on this list that seems deliberately queer.

“Everybody wants to hear the secrets/that you never told a soul before”

“But you swore to yourself a long time ago/there were some things that people never needed to know/guess there’s one that you keep/that you bury so deep no one can tear it out”

“And you don’t want to lose a friendship/there’s nothing that you have to hide/and a little dirt/couldn’t hurt no one anyway”

“And you still have a rage inside you/that you carry with a certain pride/in the only part of a broken heart/that you could ever save”

“It’s a time honored resolution/because the danger is always near”

The Stranger. All about the secrets we keep and masks we wear around other people.

“Well we all have a face/that we hide away forever/and we take them out and show ourselves/when everyone has gone”

“Well we all fall in love/but we disregard the danger/though we share so many secrets/there are some we never tell”

“You may never understand/how the stranger is inspired/but he isn’t always evil/and he isn’t always wrong/though you drown in good intentions/you will never quench the fire/you’ll give into your desire/when the stranger comes along”

Until the Night. All about a couple who can only come together at night, long after everyone else has gone to sleep.

“I never ask you where you go/after I leave you in the morning/we go our different ways/to separate situations/it’s not that easy anymore”

“Today we’ll be unsure, is this what we believe in/and wonder how can we go on”

“While they’re closing it down/we’re gonna open it up/and while they’re going to sleep/we’ll just be starting to touch"

Everybody Has A Dream. A heartbreakingly beautiful song about a man who can’t be at home with his lover, so he has to imagine being home with them instead.

“Everybody has a dream/and this is my dream, my own/just to be at home/and all alone with you”

“And if a word from you can bring a better day/then all I have are these games that I’ve been playing/to keep my hope from crumbling away”

“And all the fantasies that I have been keeping/will make the empty hours easier to stand”

An Innocent Man. This one is all about the narrator trying to get their lover to open up, let them in, trust them, and that after all the pain they’ve dealt with and all the fear they have, it’ll be okay, they’ll be okay, because he’s an innocent man. Also some rando on Tumblr a few years ago made a post about how the narrator of the song is a dick, and the love interest should be weary, and used male pronouns to refer to both Billy and whoever he was singing to, and I can’t ever forget that.

“Some people live with the fear of a touch/and the anger of having been a fool”

“Some people sleep all alone every night/instead of taking a lover to bed/some people find that it’s easier to hate/than to wait anymore”

“I know you don’t want to hear what I say/I know you’re gonna keep turning away/but I’ve been there and if I can survive/I can keep you alive/I’m not above going through it again/I’m not above being cool for a while/if you’re cruel to me I understand”

“Some people hope for a miracle cure/some people just accept the world as it is/but I’m not willing to lay down and die/because I am an innocent man”

Through The Long Night. Now that shit is just tender as fuck. Also it was very likely written by Billy about a man he really did watch sleep. He’s straight, but it just adds another layer.

“It’s so late/but I’ll wait/through the long night with you/with you”

“The warm tears/the bad dreams/the soft trembling shoulders/the old fears/but I’m here”

“All your past sins/are since past/you should be sleeping/it’s all right/sleep tight/through the long night with me/with me”

“No, I didn’t start it/you’re broken hearted/from a long, long time ago/oh, the way you hold me/is all that I need to know”

Tell Them You’re In Love. THIS IS LITERALLY A SONG ABOUT HIDING A SERIOUS ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP FROM ALL YOUR CLOSEST FRIENDS BECAUSE THEY WOULDN’T UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU AND YOUR SO HAVE, AND TO JUST TELL THEM “oh yeah, I’m in love, I have a thing going on, it’s cool" (also an unreleased demo, it’s only on YouTube)

“Sometimes it’s nobody else’s affair/and if you want them to leave you alone/just tell them you’re in love”

“When I look/in your eyes/I can see that you’ve gone through your own share of pain/And I hear (hear)/when you cry/there are feelings you have that words could never explain”

“Well between/you and me/it ain’t nobody’s business to know where you’ve been/even so, even though/they mean well/they can never be a part of the world we’re in"

Shameless. A great song all about being shamelessly in love. I mean come on.

“Well I’m shameless/when it comes to loving you”

“And I’m standing here for all the world to see/there ain’t that much left of me/that has very far to fall”

“I have never let anything have this much/control over me/cause I worked too hard to call my life my own/yes I made myself a world/and it worked so perfectly/but it’s your world now/I can’t refuse/I never had so much to lose”

You Can Make Me Free. 

“You can make me free/you can make me rise/you can make me see/so open up my eyes”

“Don’t you know my only real moments/are the ones I spend with you”

“And if I must wait a lonely lifetime/until I am with you, my love/I will wait but you’ll be what I’m dreaming of"

James. Just read the lyrics.

“James, do you like your life?/can you find release?”

“You were so relied upon/everybody knows how hard you tried/hey, look at what a job you’ve done/carrying the weight of family pride”

“James, you’ve been well behaved/you’ve been working so hard/but will you always stay/someone else’s dream of who you are”

“I went on the road/you pursued an education, James/how you gonna know for sure/everything was so well organized/now everything is so secure/and everybody else is satisfied”

Stop in Nevada. This is really just about a lesbian divorcing her husband and movie to liberal California.

“She tried for years to be a good wife/it never quite got off the ground/and all those stories of the good life/convinced her to not to hang around”

“Oh, and now she’s heading out to California/and she doesn’t know what’s comin’ but she sure knows what she’s leaving behind”

“And though she finds it hard to leave him/she knows it would be worse to stay/he wouldn’t understand the reasons/that make a woman run away"

Zanzibar. Now this song really isn’t gay at all, but shout out for having the most homoerotic way someone could have described boxing in a song.

“Ali dances and the audience applauds/though he’s bathed in sweat he hasn’t lost his style"

[dokuhebi]

[ snowdrop ] :)

Angst Meme: Flowers [ snowdrop ]: one of our muses is near-frozen from the cold, and the other finds them. // @snakereign Few opponents could stand up to Voldemort, it is why there is only a small degree of worry when the man leaves without them at his side. Knowing full well he could banish any threat from his lands, likely without any genuine effort on his part. But the storms could not be predicted, nor countered with such ease. Only those of mortal flesh proved movable obstacles. As it would turn out, fates cruel sense of humor lead to a rather lethal combination. When curtains of snow started to descend from the skies and drown the frosty plains in white. When the air turned icy and the view became distorted by winters falling debris. It has the serpent growing restless, knowing Voldemort was meant to return hours ago, knowing delays were unlike him. It doesn’t take incredibly long to abandon the warmth of their current refuge in search of him. It takes even quicker to detail the route he had informed them he would be taking, and to track down his movements until arriving at what must have been a final destination. Final indeed. If the storm had been bad back home, the winds and cold here may well kill someone. Voldemort does not fair well in the cold, it was one of the first ways the serpent had acknowledged they were so similar. If this weather was chilling their bones, they imagine his prolonged stay here would be devastating. But the reason he hadn’t retreated to safer grounds and temperatures becomes rather apparent too. When the cloaked figures of wizards and witches can be sighted surrounding fallen bodies. Death Eaters, laying limp around the sole survivor, though Voldemort barely looks worthy of being considered alive. Pale skin is somehow more ghostly now, drawn by cold and looking more corpse than man. Dark hair hangs limp from the dampness of the snow, clinging to the fine bones of his jaw and cheeks, his eyes cast in a haze that showed worrying degrees of distance. Hypothermia reaching dangerous levels. He’s beautiful even now, even in his darkest hour, if only in the most macabre sense. No doubt those attacking had no way of killing the Lord, only ways of preventing him from leaving, only able to keep him trapped where the storm could do all their work for them. Did they not know it would take more than this to kill a god like him? Still, snow is dusting his dark clothes, is falling atop his raven hair and weighing him down with every icy touch. Cold hands of winter pulling him like gravity with every slow breath he takes, with every slowing beat of his fast falling heart. His opponents must be relishing in it, in this torturously slow demise. In this pathetically cowardly form of battle, of never giving him much of a chance to retaliate. Ambush tactics done tastelessly. While the serpent had sought out their lord with a handful-following of Death Eaters, the group behind them would hardly be offered the chance to step in. Not when anger greets the viper, not when their instant sense of disgust etches its way in to their golden eyes. It would be easy to kill their opponents in the same manner, from the shadows of the snowed in forest. Ambush. But why give them such mercifully quick deaths? It would be clear the situation was changing the moment the ground can be felt shuddering under foot. The moment snow moves about as if the floor was starting to slope, tumbling away from a great weight. It would be hard to see porcelain white scales in the deep snow, the only easily decipherable feature the golden eyes that pierce through the storm. But by the time the leviathan has drawn a defensive circle around Voldemort with their serpentine body, the basilisks jaws part to reveal a pink inner maw, making it easier to determine what this emerging monster was. Easy to read their lightening coloured gaze, warning the traitors who had the first strike, that they would have to kill the colossal serpent first. And from within that large dark throat, able to swallow these men in one bite, a flicker of red begins. A bubbling of orange, crimson and yellow. Until a rumble is all that is heard and flames thick as lava begin to blanket the area. Pouring out their jaws like a dragons might, rolling over the land and engulfing the screaming bodies. Snow begins to melt in the heat that is created, their body protecting Voldemort from their own flames, and the debilitating cold. There were undoubtedly less chaotic and destructive means of killing those around them, but the serpents fury at seeing the young male like this serves indominable, as if they feel the very soil must atone for letting their chosen king fall. Only a handful of opponents manage to escape the catching fire, but the serpent has no room for mercy, no tolerance. An unsettling noise, grating like unnatural thunder, sounds in their throat once more. Before the leviathans jaws open next for ashen violet streams of lightening to pour from the depths of their throat next, deafening sounds akin to bomb fire. Sharp shrieks like a thousand birds calling. They can see the small body in their coils wince from the noise, the involuntary reaction of jolting discomfort. He must be all the more sensitive to stimuli now that he has reached such a critical low. While only allies remain left in the field of ruined forestry, the serpent is still in a volatile mood. How many times had they seen traitors rise only when a leader showed a glimmer of weakness? Like animals turning on the sickest member to emerge the new strongest. A low hiss is all that is needed, for the surrounding Death Eaters to know better than to approach the fallen Lord now. Where the serpent turns those lethal jaws instead to pick the man up, quickly shifting from deadly to gentle, as they scoop his smaller figure carefully, before disappearing beneath the earth. Able to shove away the tightly packed dirt with their snout, the ground easy to burrow beneath without a moment of disturbance. It would be more tireless a battle when arriving back to safety. When the mans state of health had reached worrying lows. His chamber is forbidden now, for while the serpent has returned to their human self for the sake of tending to him, the threat of their presence lingers. They do not leave their Lords side once, having been trained for war to know basic emergency care, and having studied further in pursuit of their science. The human body and all its weaknesses was no mystery to the viper these days. He is rid of his damp clothes for warmer ones, his chambers alight with candles and a burning fire place, to keep the room as warm as possible. Keeping his organs from shutting down due to the radical drop of his own body temperature had been the truly touch and go part of this ordeal. However they would soon be pleased to know that Voldemort had not ascended this far by being easily run down. His body fought. No matter how unfavorable the circumstances were. He would remain in and out of consciousness for an entire day, and most of the next. He would be in constant discomfort, a numbness that didn’t offer relief trying to dominate his slender form. But whatever opposed their Lord, hypothermia, a storm, or the many faces now buried face down in the snow beyond their abodes walls, would surely meet the serpents displeased wrath. It is with great relief when his eyes open once more, dark pools of midnight searching the environment he likely barely remembers getting back to, that they see progress. They see the return of that intelligence, that perceptive spark of life and ambition. His body was far from recovered yet, but it would, and that was all that truly mattered now. He would awaken to the serpent sitting elegantly a few feet away by the fire. Their chair evidently moved so that they could always keep him in their line of sight, idly paging through a book that lays in their lap. One hand guiding their long hair out their face, the other keeping the book balanced, while their legs are elegantly crossed. But his shift of movement snaps their attention away from the book, and after a moment of inspecting whether he was truly awake, or merely stirring for temporary consciousness, they find the relief they had been waiting for. Getting up from their seat and abandoning the book without thought, to cross the short distance to him and find their seat instead on the side of his bed. “What possessed you to ever wander so far from home without me?” they say, and despite their light chiding, they sound more relieved than upset, “you’re powerful dear, the most powerful in the lands, but that only makes the witch hunt for you grow more ravenous,” they say, before they bring a hand to lightly caress under his jaw, where they can lean down and place a kiss to the top of his head, “scare me like that again my Lord, and I might end up killing you myself.”

[fireblaze5555]

Fire Away: Chapter 8

Also on Ao3: Fire Away: Chapter 8

Frank was so fucked. He watched Karen dozing on his completely numb arm as the morning light streamed through the balcony doors and he couldn't tear his eyes from her. Last night kept playing over and over in his head. The expanse of her beautiful pale skin, perfectly shaped breasts, the noises she made when he had his hands on her. The way she looked at him, like he mattered. Like he wasn't a monster. Like she loved him.

He watched her face as she took in the long slow breaths of someone in deep restful sleep, his eyes scanning her features and memorizing every line, as if he hadn't already. Her bruises had almost completely faded, leaving just a light discoloration at her temple and he wanted to press his lips to that spot and kiss away the last of the damage. For a moment he nearly forgot why he shouldn't be doing this, he just reveled in holding this incredible, beautiful woman in his arms.

Frank was unable to stop the flash of pride in his chest, he was one lucky bastard. Her words, I never regret you , echoed in his head over and over and each time he felt a little piece of his soul repairing itself. His demons never retreated for long though, rendering what Karen had managed to rebuild back to rubble. Suddenly it hurt to look at her, flashes of the family he couldn't protect filling his vision only this time her face was there too, covered in blood and unblinking.

He could no longer lie still, so to keep from waking her, Frank stood and threw his sweats on before stepping out on the balcony. She couldn't love him. He doesn't get to have that anymore. Karen was smart, beautiful, strong and resilient. She could have anyone she wanted. She fought for justice and saw the best in people while still accepting the darkness in them. There was no universe where he deserved her love.

It was that moment, with sickening clarity, thinking about her bravery, her smile, her kindness and her wicked sense of humor, that Frank realized he loved her. Most people felt light with a realization like that but all he could feel was a mix of guilt and disdain for himself. That's what she fucking needs, your psycho ass adding your bullshit to hers . A small childish part of him had hoped maybe it was just sexual tension and once they got that out of the way, they could walk away from each other. He knew how ridiculous that was when his heart wrenched painfully at the thought of being done with Karen when this was all over.

Frank was lost in his thoughts, not acknowledging the chill of the morning until a warm pair of arms wrapped around his torso and Karen pressed herself flush to his back.

Her voice was light but he could hear tension and worry there as well, "I could hear you thinking in my sleep." He felt her lips moving against his skin as she spoke, "Wanna talk?"

Frank turned in her arms so they rested chest to chest against the balcony railing. Her hair was mussed from sleep and she was squinting against the morning sun. Frank shifted a bit to shade her eyes with his body and the smile she gave him was so radiant he was nearly blinded himself. Her eyes were so blue Frank felt like he could drown in them and for a moment all he could do was stare in wonderment, his hand coming up to rest against the side of her face.

She leaned into his hand and stared at him expectantly and it took him a minute to remember she had asked him a question. Looking to the side to try and break the spell she had put over him, Frank took a deep breath, steadying himself for what he needed to do. He kept his voice low as he dropped the hand from her face to rest at her hip, "This," He looked at her hand that had come to rest on his chest over his heart, "is not a good idea."

Karen's beryl eyes turned to flint, pinning him to the spot even as she took a step back. Frank instantly felt the warmth she had brought retreat with her. He tried not to let it affect him. He tried not to feel the loss as acutely as he did. Tried but didn't succeed.

Frank wanted so badly to say something, anything to make her smile again or something to make her see how right he was but they had been through all of this before. So instead, he braced his arms on the railing behind him and regarded her carefully with narrowed eyes.

"Honestly, Frank, you give me whiplash." Her eyes were still hard but the gentleness with which she addressed him did far more damage, "You think that you being around is what gets me hurt. The truth is, it's watching you leave that hurts me more than anything. Seeing the way you look at me, the way you touch me, only for you to turn it off a second later and disappear." She gives a humorless laugh and his lungs constrict when he sees her eyes swimming. If only she knew how much he couldn't turn it off.

His throat is tight but he forces the words out anyway, "I can't be responsible for getting you killed Karen, I just can't. That's why this is a bad idea, 'cause when you're around I forget why I'm supposed to push you away."

She wiped a stray tear away quickly and took a step closer to him. Frank gripped the railing until his knuckles turned white, trying so hard not to reach for her. He was busy watching her rose colored lips as she pulled them between her teeth so when she spoke again it took him a moment to process her question.

"Then why are you here?" She asks, raising an eyebrow at his frustrated confusion, "I know you don't want anything to happen to me, but Frank, my job is dangerous. I deal with dangerous people almost every day. I mean, for God's sake, I work with the devil of Hell's Kitchen. If you think you shouldn't be around me, you didn't have to track me down, you could have left it up to Matt to help me." He hopes she doesn't notice the flash of contempt he feels cross his face but she doesn't miss anything with him. She huffs out a humorless laugh before fixing him with a hard stare, "You don't get to make me walk away only to pop back up when it's convenient for you. It's not fair. To either of us. Either you are in my life or you aren't, you can't have both."

Logically he knew she was right, he's sure he has told himself that before, but hearing it fall from her lips caused his chest to spasm painfully. He felt panicked, like he had to make the call right now which caused anger to spike since he thought he had already made that call. He's the fucking Punisher, he didn't need anyone, everything he needed died at that carousel but facing her now, last night playing over in his head in startling detail, he realized he hadn't been as sure as he thought. His chest and throat hurt, everything he was trying to say blocked his airways and made him choke, a small distressed sound the only thing he managed. Frank was shaking his head, trying to jostle some coherent thought loose and his eyes were wild, like a trapped animal.

Karen saw him struggling and like the angel she was brought his attention back to her and away from his spiraling thoughts, her voice was solid as she said, "Back in that hospital room, I told you to make it mean something, me being there. What were you going to say? Before the kid walked in."

The vortex of his thoughts came to a sudden, disorienting halt, focused solely on that memory. Clicking his tongue, Frank turned to glare into the distance. He really didn't want to relive that day. He regretted so much about it.

"I don't know." he said.

"That's bullshit." she spat.

He turned to look at her, her cheeks were slightly pink, her eyes glinting in the early morning light and she was so damn beautiful. Calm and steady to his anxious, agitated uncertainty. He wanted to tell her there was nothing he wanted to say, that he had already said it. He wanted her to believe that he was pushing her away because he genuinely didn't want her. But they never lied to each other.

His voice was rough, almost resigned. "I had no idea how to tell you everything I wanted to in the time I had left to do it. I wasn't lying, Karen, I don't want to give up the war. I don't know if that will ever change, it is something that is a part of me now. It may have always been a part of me. I thought if I could push you away you would be safe." He gave her a pointed look. "That was obviously a bit naive of me, knowing you. I couldn't stand the thought of you getting hurt because of me. Still can't. The idea was I would distance myself, then I could just focus on fightin', cleanin' up the city without worrying it would reach you. But I can't stop thinkin’ about you. Thing is, you don't know when to quit, even when you're just in my head."

Karen gave a little sniff, stepping back into his space and placing her hand back over his heart. The smallest touch, one she had perfected, one that could dismantle his armor in seconds. He wondered if she knew how much it affected him. How he could feel that small touch in every atom of his being. She stared at her hand where it rested for a moment while he stared at her and tried to control his breathing.

"In that hospital room, when I said you could love someone else, instead of another war, I didn't mean you had to give up the war. I just meant you could love someone else, not just the war. I do wish you could leave it behind but I understand why you can't." She looked up at him, eyes like blue fire as she flexed her fingers on his chest, voice vehement, "I know who you are Frank Castle. I know what you are capable of. Hell, I've seen what you are capable of, first hand. I know you can kill a man with your bare hands. Take down entire cartels in a matter of a week. I also know that you nearly gave your own life to give David Lieberman his back. That you would have given everything to keep Amy safe, both people you barely knew. That you used your own body to shelter me from a spray of bullets, from a fucking bomb. I know that this mission you have means dangerous people will be after you. Most importantly, I know, I would rather face that danger with you than live safely without you. What you do with that is your call."

Frank could feel his heart beating harshly against his ribs. It almost felt as though it were trying to break out of his chest to rest in her capable hand, God knows she already had his heart metaphorically, she might as well have it literally. He watched in fascination as her other hand loosened his death grip on the railing to place it on her hips once more and his other hand followed suit without a second thought from him.

"I'm not asking you for forever right now Frank. I am just asking that, once we are back in the city and this whole mess is over, you give this a chance. I can't promise that shit won't go sideways but I want us to try. Okay?"

It was a bad idea. He knew it was but that voice that always urged him to deny her couldn't be heard over her soft breathing as she is watching him expectantly. With no shortage of hope and anxiety. Everything swirling around in his chest made it difficult to form words but finally, he said, "Okay."

The smile that tilted her lips would have knocked him off his feet if her hands hadn't come up to wrap around the back of his head, pulling him to her so she could ghost a quiet, "Okay" over his lips before she was kissing him fully, running her tongue over his and holding on to him like he may fade away in her grasp.

Finally Frank pulled back, giving her a light kiss on the cheek before turning her back towards the door and nudging her into the condo. "Let's get our stuff together, we've already stayed too long, we need to get moving." He tried to sound rough and in control but it came out soft and more of an entreaty than he had intended. Judging by the little smirk Karen threw over her shoulder she wasn't impressed but she dressed quickly and started to gather her things.

They ate a quick breakfast with what was left in the fridge and in less than an hour they had all of their things together and loaded up, surveying the condo to ensure they didn't leave anything behind. Frank glanced over and felt a pang of sadness when he saw the open longing in Karen's face. Maybe, if they get through this and actually get their shit together, maybe they could come back. Actually explore and relax and just...be. But they had things to take care of first so he turned, watching her carefully as she turned as well, giving him a small smile before she stepped out of the door.

Mountains rolled by as they hit the interstate headed East and they settled in for the long drive back. It was a quiet comfortable silence in the cab as both were lost in thought, whether it was about their earlier conversation or what was to come. It had been nearly two hours when Frank glanced over to see Karen sifting through her bag. She held up the burner phone they had purchased for her triumphantly and began to punch in a number.

Karen didn't even look over to respond, she knew Frank was dividing his attention between the road and her. "Watch the road soldier, I'm just calling Foggy. I want to check in and let him know that we are headed back. I won't give him any details yet, maybe once we are back in the city we can get everyone together to finalize a plan." She looked over to him, he wouldn't say it was to ask permission, more of a chance for him to protest and her to probably do it anyway.

When he glanced over again he gave a small nod. If it were up to him he would storm the place, give the lady no other option but to leave Karen alone and then find a way into Rikers to kill Fisk. Simple. But this was Karen's plan, her situation. As much as he wanted to take care of it for her and remove all the danger, he knew she would resent him for taking it out of her hands. That being said, if it looked at all like shit was going sideways he was taking over, she could be as resentful as much as she wanted, as long as she was alive when it was over.

Frank focused on his driving, occasionally checking the rear view to ensure there was no one following them. When he tuned back in it was to Karen laughing quietly into the phone. He had to force himself to keep his eyes on the road instead of putting his full attention on her. It was novel, witnessing Karen just...being. No bad guys, no immediate danger, no bombs or hospital rooms. Just Karen talking to her friend.

"Yeah Foggy, I'm fine, I promise. We are headed back now. What?" A startled laugh. "Sorry I forgot to get you a souvenir, will a gas station shot glass be okay? Sunglasses for Matt? What an original idea you have." She giggled a little bit more before he heard her sober up. "Yeah, we know who is behind it, I-" He looked over just in time to see her roll her eyes. "Tell Matt eavesdropping is rude, even if it is a superpower." He couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped, Karen turned to him with a smirk and a wink. "I'll fill you both in once we are back in the city and I've got all of the information. I want to be sure we aren't being followed and there is a safe place for us to meet, I don't want to put you in danger." Her voice gave a little tremor but before he even had a chance to reach for her, she gave another laugh, "You're right, Marci would probably scare off anyone threatening her Foggy Bear."

Frank's eyes went wide, storing that information for future ammo in case he needed it. Judging by the loud groan he heard over the line, Nelson had not wanted that said out loud. A couple more reassurances and pleasantries and Karen was hanging up the phone, tucking it back into her bag.

Clearing his throat, Frank gave her a mischievous look, "So...Foggy Bear, huh?"

Karen bit her lip, laughter in her voice, "He's never going to forgive me for saying that in front of you. Try not to torture him too much with it."

A loud ping came from Frank's front pocket before he could make any promises he couldn't keep. He pulled it from his pocket and handed it to Karen to read the message.

"It's from David." She said, quickly scanning the text. "He got the information all together and has sent it. Once we get somewhere with internet I'll download it and work on it more. He also says your safe house is clear, there hasn't been any activity there since before you left."

Frank scowled. He never gave David any indication of where his safe house was located. They were going to have to have a serious talk about boundaries, that may include Frank punching him at some point.

He glanced over quickly when he heard Karen snort, she was looking at him, "You never told him where it was did you? He just used creepy hacker skills to find it didn't he?"

With a resigned sigh, Frank just nodded.

"God, he is terrifying." she said, a mix of admiration and a healthy dose of wariness in her voice.

"He can be but he's also an annoying idiot so I guess it balances out." He gave her a sideways grin when she let out a surprised laugh, tucking the phone into the center console and settling herself back in the seat.

Despite the shit storm they were driving back into, Frank felt at ease. They bantered about music, both settling on an old rock station for the trip. He outlined why The Boss was one of the best musicians out there and she nodded along in a placating manner. Her preferences were all over the place, some he could agree with others that just had him shaking his head.

It took them nearly two days, Frank insisted they take their time so they could arrive back in the city when it was dark. Karen would take over driving when Frank got tired and he would crash on the cot in the back or just lay the passenger seat back. The easy conversation slowed as they entered the city and their situation came back into focus. Frank took them in convoluted loops through the city until he was confident they wouldn't be followed before he finally pulled into a small abandoned warehouse.

Despite David's reassurance, Frank did a quick sweep of the premises before letting Karen out of the van, insisting she stay in the back where he had her hiding for most of their trip through the city streets. When he gave the all clear and she stepped out, Karen turned slowly taking in her surroundings, from the mini-fridge next to the table that held his burner for cooking to his sparse cot and neatly stacked clothes. Of course there were also stacks of weapons  lining the walls and a computer set up he had gotten from David. Frank cringed inwardly when she leveled her gaze back on him, he fully expected her to give him the third degree for living like this.

Before she could comment he spoke up, "I have an apartment. I stay here when I need to lay low or if I need to do some recon." Karen gave him a small knowing smile and he felt the tips of his ears turning red. Here he was, a grown man, feeling as though he needed to explain his living situation to a pretty girl like he was a teenager who didn't clean his room. Admittedly, it had been awhile since he had been to his apartment and it wasn't much more furnished than this but she didn't need to know that.

Turning back to the van, Frank busied himself with unloading the rest of their supplies before he could say anything else embarrassing. The first thing he brought out was Karen's laptop, he set it up with the password for the wifi and pulled up the most comfortable chair he had to the workstation for her. He was a bit distressed, these kinds of conditions were okay when it was just him but he hated the idea of Karen living with so little comforts, even if it was only temporary. It couldn't be helped though, so he tried to make it as comfortable as he could.

Karen sat down at the laptop giving him a grateful smile and began digging through the files that David sent over. He knew she would be at it for awhile so he went about checking his ammo and supplies, grimaced at the very empty mini-fridge, and then made up the cot with the procured hotel comforter.

It wasn't long before he had everything in order so he stepped over to where Karen was jotting down notes and furiously scrolling through files. He gripped the back of her chair, reading a bit over her shoulder, "Finding anything you can use?"

She made a somewhat noncommittal noise and continued to scroll for a few more seconds before she answered distractedly. "There is a ton of suspicious activity here, a lot of it corresponding with her communication with Fisk and that is just the phone calls I see on her calendar, there are probably more. If it were anyone else, I would say yes, we should be able to take them down with what we have here." Pausing for a second to bury her hands in her hair, Karen let out a disgusted huff. "But this is Fisk we are talking about. This is the second time we have sent him to prison and he still has just as much freedom as he did before. It's infuriating."

Frank moved his hands to her shoulders, rubbing them soothingly but when he spoke his voice was hard and unforgiving, "He needs to be put down."

Karen's shoulders tensed for a moment before she lowered her arms with a resigned sigh. "I really want to disagree with you Frank. I really want to say that the justice system will prevail and he will be held responsible but we both know that sometimes the justice system doesn't work, don't we?" She looked over her shoulder to give him a sad smile and Frank wished the world was good enough to deserve Karen Page.

There was really nothing he could say to that so he brushed his lips over her forehead in a light kiss before pulling back and heading to his own computer. "I'm going to go over the blueprints for the house, look at security details and schedules and put together a tactical plan. Do wanna meet with the lawyers tomorrow, run what we got by 'em?" He turned enough to see that she had already gone full steam back into her research, giving him a distracted 'Mhm' as she made a couple more notes.

Shaking his head with a smirk, she was an investigator through and through, Frank sat in his own chair and began booting everything up. While he waited he pulled out his phone and sent David another request.

The house, well mansion really, that Vanessa Fisk was residing in was a pretty basic floor plan and Frank had outlined an infiltration plan in a couple of hours, leaving room for adjustments if they got any additional information from Nelson or Murdock. All said and done he figured he could have Karen and himself in and out of the house within 30 minutes, more than enough time to say what needs to be said and get out. His email pinged, David getting him the earlier requested information just in time for Frank to shift his attention to his next objective.

A few more hours passed and vaguely acknowledged Karen moving behind him before he heard the bathroom door shut. There were many moving pieces with this objective and he didn't want to miss any details so he poured over it again and again.

"What is this?" He had been aware of Karen exiting the bathroom but it still startled him a bit to hear her just over his shoulder. She could be damn quiet when she wanted to be, noted.

"It's the blueprints for Rikers, personnel list and where the high profile inmates are kept." Frank felt Karen go completely still.

"No." she said. Her voice was sharp and when he turned to look at her, her eyes never left the screen.

"What do you mean 'no'?" His own tone was sharper than he meant.

"I mean, no, Frank. You're not breaking into Rikers to kill Fisk." She finally tore her eyes from the screen to glare at him. "Are you crazy? Do you want me to wrap you up in a pretty bow for them? Go ahead and put you in an orange jumpsuit to save them the trouble so all they have to do is throw you in your cell, lock you up and throw away the key?"

Frank felt his own anger rising, "You just agreed that he needed to be put down." He stood and took a few steps toward her when she turned, tugging at her hair and cursing quietly.

She whipped around so fast her hair came undone from the loose bun she had it in, hissing at him like a feral cat, "I said the justice system fails sometimes. How the hell did you get, 'Break into a maximum security prison to murder the biggest kingpin in New York' out of that?" She leaned against the wall, crossing her arms over her chest and stared him down.

Frank advanced, stopping just in front of her, his voice dark and echoing around the room. "He's a threat Karen. He's already had too many chances at you and I'm not gonna let him have another one. He signed his own death warrant when he signed that letter to you. Besides, I've got unfinished business with him." He started to turn but Karen gripped his arm, spinning him back around.

"You are NOT breaking into Rikers, Frank. Whether or not he deserves it, I'm not letting you put yourself in that situation for me! So fucking forget it!" She was shouting, her cheeks were red and her chest heaved with her anger, it would have been a beautiful sight if he wasn't so pissed off, his own breath coming in angry bursts.

Placing a hand by her head, Frank leaned in, his voice going deadly soft, "Fisk is a dead man, Karen. There's nothing that is going to change that." He saw a shiver run through her as she looked away but when she brought her eyes back to his, his lungs seized. The fire in her blue eyes burned hotter than anger and he had to place his other hand on the wall as well to steady himself when she slid her hands under his shirt to skim up his sides.

It was his turn to shiver when she ran her nails down his sides to hook in the waist of his jeans, her voice was quiet as well when she leaned in. "I'm not asking you to let him live, Frank. I'm asking you to not throw your life away to kill him.” Her breath tickled the sensitive skin behind his ear and Frank was dizzy with the sudden shift. He wanted to still be angry but the way she was running her fingers along his waistband he found that his anger was bleeding into arousal, the adrenaline fueling something else entirely. His body was reacting to her without much input from his brain.

She pulled back to look at him and the mischief in her eyes made him step closer until they were chest to chest. Karen’s back was pressed against the wall and Frank leaned his forearm above her head, his lips ghosting over her temple, “Are you trying to distract me from the discussion, ma’am?”

Karen turned just enough to nip his jaw, one of her hands ghosting down the front of his jeans, making him clench his teeth, her voice was low as she alternated between laying dragging kisses over his jaw and sucking at his pulse-point, “That depends, is it working?”

It definitely was. Between the residual anger and adrenaline from their fight and her wicked hands running patterns over his stomach, occasionally dipping into the waist of his jeans, he was rock hard. With the hand braced above Karen’s head, he buried his fingers in her hair and lightly jerked her head around to devour her mouth. Frank felt his cock twitch when she let out a breathy moan. It seemed Karen liked a little rough handling and that was knowledge that nearly had Frank weak in the knees with need. Once he had ravaged her mouth to the point they were both panting, he started to push away from the wall  and guide them over to the cot but Karen dug in her heels and kept him in place by holding on to the front of his waistband, her long fingers tucked against his skin while her thumb circled over the button.

Frank was distracted by the sight for a moment, staring down to where her hand was so close but not nearly close enough, he wanted so badly to guide her hand further but didn’t want to push too hard. However, when he looked back up to Karen, she had a determined devilish smirk on her lips and he felt the silky strands of her hair still tangled in his fingers slip free as Karen slowly slid down the wall until she was looking up at him from her knees, her eyes wide and the darkest blue he had ever seen them.

The image made Frank blink rapidly to ensure he wasn’t dreaming because if he woke up from this it damn well may kill him. When Karen leaned forward until she was directly in front of the bulge in his jeans, he held his breath. She studied him for a moment before she brought one of her hands up to cup him firmly, drawing that damned bottom lip between her teeth and suddenly the breath he had been holding left him raggedly as he watched in fascination when she dragged her teeth gently over the head of his dick through the fabric of his pants.

“Holy shit .” His voice was broken and he was surprised he hadn’t been able to say anything considering he still hadn’t been able to refill his lungs.

Karen drew back just enough to allow her nimble fingers access to the button and zipper of his jeans, making short work of them before hooking her fingers into his pants and underwear alike and slowly tugging them down. She hummed appreciatively as he sprung free and Frank had to bite back a groan when she turned hungry eyes up to him. If there had ever been any question of the power Karen Page had over him it evaporated when she slid her hands up his thighs so she could dig strong fingers into his hips and run her tongue from base to tip of his cock, never breaking eye contact with him.

He let out a growl, burying the hand not braced against the wall into her hair, “God Dammit Karen, you’re so fuckin’ sexy.” She didn’t reply but he saw the shiver run through her body, instead she ran the flat of her tongue up him again this time wrapping her lips around the tip bobbing her head shallowly over him. Frank rested his forehead against his arm on the wall for a second, clenching that fist tightly, closing his eyes and just focusing on the sensation. Her lips felt so fucking good on him, he felt lightheaded.

His eyes snapped open and another curse escaped him when he felt one of Karen’s hands wrap around the base of his cock, her mouth sinking to where her hand was squeezing before he rocked back in time to see her full lips slowly dragging back up. Her pace was torturous but he fought to keep his hips still, letting Karen take her time. As torture goes, this was more than acceptable and Frank would endure it happily.

Having  Karen Page, a woman so fierce and strong, on her knees in front of him was a humbling experience for Frank and he extricated his fingers from her hair only to reverently push them back through the silken strands, pulling it out of her face and gripping it loosely at the crown of her head. Her lips leave him with a soft pop and she looks up at him with hooded eyes when she strokes him firmly with expert hands. Frank lowered his hand from the wall to run a calloused thumb over her bottom lip, smearing a bit of saliva across the swollen skin. She catches his digit between those sinful lips and swirls her tongue over it before sucking lewdly, rolling her palm over the head of his cock at the same time. Frank has to remove his hand from her hair to lean against the wall once more when his knees threaten to give out.

Releasing his thumb, Karen gives him an innocent smile which, considering the proficient way she was building him towards release, was far from innocent. He gives her smirk of his own, burying his other hand in her hair this time and slowly, giving her a chance to protest, guides her back to his straining dick. She purrs, parting her lips slightly, just enough to drag them down one side of him and back up the other before she opens again and takes as much of him as she can. Frank growls at the sensation, he’s too big for her to take him completely in her mouth, but she doesn’t flinch when he feels himself bump against the back of her throat. Goddamn . As if he didn’t already worship this woman enough. She moved fluidly back and forth over him, her hands alternately gripping and pumping him to groping at his hips and thighs.

The telltale coiling of pressure at the base of his spine had Frank tightening his fingers in Karen’s hair urging her to move faster. She didn’t need much encouragement, bobbing her head quickly, her hands moving in tandem with her talented mouth. He was on fire, he felt sweat dripping down his spine and every muscle in his body was straining to reach his release.

Frank never tore his eyes from her face as he ground out a warning, “I’m coming, fuck , Karen-” She hummed against him and snapped her eyes open to watch him, never slowing her pace. It only took a couple more pumps from her and Frank was letting out a low gravely shout, leaning heavily into the wall as his orgasm tore through him. A deep moan escaped him as Karen continued to work him over, drawing every last bit of his release from him. When he had the strength to open his eyes again he watched as Karen sat back from him, holding his gaze as she swallowed, giving him a knowing smirk when he growled lowly at the sight.

He tugged gently at the hair he still had fisted in his hand and helped her back to her feet. Before she could say anything, Frank had her pressed against the wall once more, kissing her with all the gratitude and adoration he was feeling. When he pulled back he shook his head, smirking at her smug expression. His voice was rough, still recovering, as he attempted to reprimand her, “You don’t fight fair, Ms. Page.”

She smiled coyly at him, “Yeah, well, all’s fair in love and war and all that.”

Frank gave a huffing laugh, pressing his lips over hers in a quick kiss. “The discussion isn’t over, just to be clear.”

Karen’s smile grew before it turned into a yawn. Taking her hand, Frank pushed away from the wall and moved them toward the cot.

“What are you doing? I still have stuff I want to go over.” She asked even as she stifled another yawn.

“It’s been a long couple o’ days, we need to get some sleep. We can sort out the rest tomorrow.” Truth be told, if it were just him, he would stay up all night until he had everything planned to his liking but he didn’t just have his own health and safety to look after at the moment so Frank climbed into the cot first before pulling her down and tucking her between him and the wall and tugging the blanket over both of them. Despite her protests, Karen tucked into his side, burying her face in his neck with an arm thrown over his chest and was breathing deeply in a matter of moments. He wasn’t far behind, turning just enough to be able to drape an arm over her waist, Frank breathed her in, honeysuckle and vanilla, and drifted off as well.

[moon-shine-on-me]

You know what, I'm fed up.

Listen people whatever happens, whatever bridges you brun, whatever rivers you cross and feel guilty afterwards, don't if you see that the others that made you do that hold on to anger and do petty things.

Like fuck you all, I started the fire, I cried for this fire, I wished things could go back to normal but you made me do it. You made my soul so fucking deep and black that you believe its all for you.

Hell no! You made my soul black and I kept smiling, I kept protecting you from bad people, I kept loving you regardless of getting kicked in the gut in the end, I kept trying to look positive and try even though I wanted to bleed all over our bathroom floor but you don't see that

You see me as a being thats incapable of love, a despicable little being that has too much hate in her and thought I was directing it all on you

I'm wearing a mask for the people around me just to take off my mask and try to show you that I'm hurt, that you hurt me, that regardless I do you wake up the ghosts of my past and chase me with them. I wanted your help because I am drowning and closed up and can't reach out.

You will say it was my own doing and yet where were you? Where were you when I needed support, where were you when I just needed a word of love that didn't come after scolding.

You doht curse the living daylights out of someone because they aren't active enough to try and chase after a possible job only to demand to be apologised after. Especially after you riled them up so bad they decided to say fuck you and burn the whole thing they were trying for on their own to ashes.

So yeah I burned the whole mother fucking bond to assess because I was the one striving alone. You believed bmthat you were trying but you weren't, you were just pushing me away hoping I'll magically find a way to crawl out of the abyss you built on my own and fix everything.

Well I'm sorry I'm the problematic child, I'm sorry if a failure as your daughter but I'm not sorry for doing some things I did. I'm not sorry for listening to music, I'm not sorry for finding a bunch of hobbies instead of being a fucking housemaid for you because I didn't go to university.

You haven't seen me drunk crying my eyes out and not knowing whether I would be alive next morning, you haven't seen me losing breath from sobbing and cutting on my skin to numben out the emotions by physically producing pain. You haven't seen me leaving after an argument and driving someplace safe for me only to wish someone hit me with a car to put me out of my fucking misery. You haven't seen me wishing bad to myself just so you feel pain as I do

Call me prideful, call me mean, call me anything you want but in the end it doesn't even matter.

I'm not supposed to be feeling like this at 21, I'm not supposed to start a new year and wonder if I'll make it out alive to see the next. I'm not supposed to be fighting alone and you clinging on your beliefs while wanting me to back down again.

The story may be one sided, I may twist words and feel bad later but the emotion is real.

I can't watch movies, I can't search up ineterestibg articles I can't produce music because you took my laptop. You also took my keys of the house and my bike hoping to keep me in, to make me beg later on.

I'd rather die than get ridiculed by you one last time.

[afvisende]

Ango is sent on a precarious mission to infiltrate and gather information on the Order of the Clock Tower. Agatha, isn't fooled, but welcomes the man into her organization, slowly warping his mind down the sinister path of perfidy.

Don't flame me for this, I’m just a sad excuse of a person who creates nonexistent pairings. I always fancied the idea of Agatha and Ango, but did nothing about it. This story nailed my coffin, I'm deep in rare pair hell. I also miss HawMitch, but these two are my newest obsession.

It'd been a few years since the infiltration and he's acclimated to nearly everything except one thing. Whenever Agatha's near; how she spoke, her mannerisms, something about it made him nervous. Why was she so eloquently persuasive? He detested how she treated him like a guest from the start. The agent worried if she had any ideas of his true purpose of joining the Order of the Clock Tower. He worked tirelessly as her hound so she wouldn't suspect him. After another toilsome day, she promised him an exquisite meal at her side; an honor rarely given to any of her subordinates. Nerves began to run rampant. Would his tea or food be laced with poison? He wouldn't be able to elude it if he was in her presence.

He really was a fool, wasn't he? Ango's unsure why after his bath he opted to wear his best suit for this occasion. "It's only dinner…" He repeated to himself. There's a subtle knock at the door and he turned to answer. "You may enter. Is this about the invitation with the Knight Commander?" No, it wasn't someone else rather it was the commander herself. Hands lifted her long skirt as she took elegant steps towards him. Watching her alone left him frozen in place. What were her intentions? "Dame Agatha…" Before he could finish her gloved hands reached for his tie undoing it completely. Sakaguchi couldn't stifle his embarrassment; a faint tinge of pink spreading across his pallid cheeks. "What're you--?" Her hands worked adeptly to tie his tie more effectively.

"Learn to tie your ties better. I do so loathe a sloppy appearance. You're fortunate to be skilled in other areas." There's a quirk of her glossed lips into a full smirk and it's unsettling. Most unsettling was her proximity to him. She was so hazardously close; that the scent of her luxurious perfume drowned out the rest of his senses. This wasn't the first time she invaded his personal space, nor the first time she's been so intimate with him. Ango never knew what to make of these gestures, they left him both abashed and flustered. Was it part of a ploy? This was a highly dangerous and intelligent woman, it was safe to say he didn't trust her. Yet, in the deepest and darkest corner of his conflicted heart… for some sick and twisted reason he wanted to. He wanted to believe there's a degree of genuineness in Agatha's actions.

"Thank you. I'll be sure to be more careful next time…" He's uncertain of what else to say as he stared off to the side in an attempt to avoid eye contact.

Nonchalantly, Agatha played with his collar, before hooking two fingers at his tie; pulling him down to her level, so that his gaze wouldn't shyly avert. "Turning away, Mr. Sakaguchi? How unbefitting of you. No one turns away from me as we're speaking." Her grip at his tie tightened and she applied an unusual force. That degree of assertion fascinated him, but added to his inner tension. "Something's discomfiting you, isn't it? Why don't you speak your mind? We're associates, are we not? You can trust me." Her intonation was smooth and spoken in a low hiss; this lady truly was a serpent; one that tempted him down a darker path.

Lies. Due to the nature of his profession involving subterfuge, he knew little else, but to lie. "There are some things a subordinate shouldn't tell his superior… I hope you can respect that."

How cute. Trying to play the personal card was a poor choice. She's not easily deceived, not when she can read him like an open book. Agatha knew more than she let on and that power she held over him made her revel. "So… you're keeping secrets from me. Do you know what punishment that'd entail?" He's heard from the others that punitive measures were harsh, it suited the callous mind that orchestrated Mimic's downfall from the shadows. There's no punishment he wouldn't endure for this operation or for the Japanese Ministry that he ceaselessly served… He couldn't conceal a sense of dread that washed over him as her blue eyes pierced icy daggers into his warmer pools.

"I'm not hiding anything." He swallowed the lump in his throat and that look of trepidation made her sneer. His fear, misgivings, and silly antics were all quite risible had she not found them utterly pathetic. Somehow, this was the most brilliant man that led numerous daunting operations for the Ministry without fail. She knew he was a perfectionist that lamented any minor errors he made along the way. He utilized these mistakes as opportunities to improve himself, but lacked refinement. He was the ideal puppet, or rather, she'd mold him into the perfect one to suit her goals instead. He was a paradigm of diligence and intellect, but he could be so much more under her guidance.

"I highly doubt that. There's much to discuss, but not here…" Her enunciation was rather suggestive. With a tug, she whispered near the shell of his ear. "Dinner awaits us, lest you've forgotten."

"I haven't… I simply was surprised you came for me yourself." As she released him and pulled away, he began to miss the closeness. Would it be out of line to reach for her hand?

The poised woman turned to look at him inquisitively. "If you wish to take my hand, you may." Gloved digits outstretched for him to take and he was reluctant to do so, but managed to. "Tighten your grasp and lead with confidence."

These were crystal clear instructions he endeavored to follow. At the elaborate dinner table, he pulled her seat with his opposite hand and gently allowed her to settle into her seat. Before he could retreat to his own, she called for him. "Protocol, dear Ango. You were remiss not to upon my entrance." This was standard for him, but it didn't change how bashful he was to do it. He wondered if she purposely instated it to rile him up. The man was nigh unflappable, she must've relished watching him lose his composure. He'd been bombarded by a farrago of emotions he was not accustomed to and it bothered him.

"Must I do it myself?" Calmly stated, but no less scathing. From her seat she rose, heels clicking towards him and her lips carefully were planted on one cheek first and then the other. "Is that too difficult for you?"

"It's not." Entire years of mind games and he's at a boiling point, he's unsure what to call this bizarre dynamic of theirs. He dared to wrap his arms carefully around her, his lips ghosting over her own, but gloved digits came between them.

"Patience, darling. That'll come later." How needy could he be? Inciting that desperation in him amused her greatly. Tantalizing him to the apex only to drag him back down was undoubtedly thrilling.

He frowned and she despised how that attractive mole on the upper left corner of his lip drooped slightly with the shift in expression. She'd keep her end of the bargain, but when it was opportune.

Dinner went smoother than expected. In fact, so smoothly, that after any qualms he had of the comestibles being envenomed; he began to have suspicions. She told him to wait for her at his quarters as the night progressed. He was prepared. His gun was cautiously concealed. He had to. No, he needed to. Someone like her was too menacing, too cunning, too cruel… and too lovely. That wasn't right. He shouldn't have harbored these thoughts, much less these frustrating feelings. She'd done nothing but welcome him fondly to her organization; treating him as one of her own from the start. He felt valued, desired, he was rewarded for his exploits. Not to mention, he was allowed reasonable time for himself to rest, before setting off on parlous undertakings. As demanding as she was, Agatha wasn't entirely unreasonable; fairly allowing her subordinates leisure. Gladly they'd lay their lives down for her as meager pawns in her game and that frightened him. Her strength, her wit, her suasion, and leadership; all of it was too potent.

The long awaited moment… Those distinct steps, he knew they were hers and she finally entered. As she approached him, he immediately cocked his gun, pointing it directly at her. There's not a hint of anger, sadness, fear, or shock to her lineaments. Her eyes were as cold and calculating as ever and it stung him deeper than it should've. "Don't get any closer."

As if she'd listen to a lowly underling of the incompetent Japanese Ministry. Truly, they were undeserving of a man of his prowess and devotion. Devotion better used in her service, she silently ruminated. Yet, her gaze was unyielding and condescended upon him as she dared to move a heel forward in his direction. "You haven't the gumption to pull that trigger." Analytical to a fault, she pointed out the conspicuous look of consternation on his face instead. "You look surprised. Why is that? I had always known of your treacherous nature. Is betrayal all that you know?" A soft laugh followed. "There is not a thing I didn't already know about you, Ango Sakaguchi."

He felt the sweat trickle down his forehead, but his hand remained firm on the firearm. Why couldn't he bring himself to fire? "You! You knew and yet you let me in?!"

Agatha smiled wickedly. She continued to defy him, closing the gap between them. "I wanted to personally see what one of the most esteemed agents of the Japanese Ministry was like. You exceeded my expectations."

"Don't test or try me. This is your last warning..." He pressed the gun to the side of her head, but she retained her equanimity. "That means all of this was fabricated… All your words, everything… none of it was genuine."

"Oh? Was it? I'm not so sure about that." In a flash, he's uncertain how she managed to press the barrel of a pistol at his jaw. "You see, I thought a battle of wits betwixt us would be more entertaining. Countless times, I could've had you slain to your lack of notice."

He's horrified to relive the constant pain that resulted from Oda's demise. Working for the Ministry meant following orders and going with plans that didn't align with his personal morals. He hated it, hated himself, and he scarcely stammered his response out. "Then why didn't you?"

"You divert me. I've seen qualities that others overlooked, as well. The organization you're most loyal to doesn't deserve you." It's paralyzing how she coquettishly leaned in while still keeping that pistol harshly pressed to his jaw. "You belong with me in the Order of the Clock Tower and I will not take no for answer." Truthfully, should he reject her proposition, she wouldn't hesitate to shoot him where he stood. Refusal wasn't an option, it never was.

"Against better judgment, I believed in you. I liked working for and with you, but I am only loyal to--"

"To whom? Your friends? We know how well that ended. Don't toy with me. You only value lives, but you cannot safeguard any with the way you are now or whilst working for that lackluster organization. You have to accept that the road to protecting what's dear requires loss. Sacrifices are necessary, you know this better than anyone. Yet, you still reject it. It's what makes you so weak."

This was a losing battle, all along, these efforts were in vain. He no longer had the will to persist, his gun slipped out of his fingers. There was nothing left for him to say, perhaps, this was the fate he deserved.

"Ango… I will not ask again. Will you betray the Japanese Ministry and join me or choose death?" She spoke his name so softly, but the rest of her words were caustic. Despite all the years that elapsed, Christie remained an enigma to him. He wanted to know her for all that she was in greater depth. He swallowed any pride he had left. To abandon his own people and the organization he offered his life for… He'd accept her offer. Had he not grown weary of mistreatment? Change was daunting, but without it there'd be no growth. She was right, no matter his attempts, innocents still died. He took no pleasure in it. The greater good was but an illusion. As she implied previously, there's an ashen perspective, one where malice and benevolence commingled. Embracing a new life and organization... It couldn't be so bad, even if it was a lifestyle that'd taint his hands in additional blood. Of that, there was no true escape.

"I'd be honored to remain at your side. I cast away my former ties. I will tell you all that I know." Slender digits brushed against her cheek affectionately and she smiled triumphantly.

"A wise choice that suits a man of your caliber. There's little I don't know, but I'd be glad to hear it during a private conference."

Undeniably, there's a mutual attraction that fostered throughout the years. It felt forbidden and risky… He was unsure if she felt the same connection.

Agatha tossed aside her pistol using that same hand to remove one of her gloves. It fell to the floor. Her thumb gently brushed over that exquisite mole of his. Ango was truly beautiful, so delicate, it tempted her to watch him crumble beneath her touch. He leaned into it fondly, his own hand settling atop hers.

"Do you recall what I said earlier?" Another stroke to that endearing mole.

"I'm uncertain which you mean?" Brows rose curiously over his glasses.

Wordlessly, her lips were upon his in a fiery kiss that she gradually deepened. He's astonished by how sudden it was and inadvertently moaned into her mouth. Agatha simpered smugly, indulging his distinct taste for all its worth. An experimental and hungry tongue met her own. His hands gripped her hips to restrain himself from the urge of bringing her body closer to his. Ango was so terribly starved, it's unfair how she exploited it. Her own slippery muscle flattened his completely with dominant strokes to later run the tip along his teeth. Helplessly, he moaned again, his inability to stop causing his cheeks to flush. As she retracted, her teeth viciously sank onto his bottom lip; tugging the flesh in admonishment.

"Your vulnerability is so appealing to me, but do not forget your place. We'll have other opportunities, my dear." Ever cordial, she placed a gentler kiss to his mole, and a lighter one to the lip she previously abused.

Ango's perplexed, entranced, and if he didn't know better, he could've sworn she somehow wormed her way in and stole his heart. "Please… I… One more. Just one more."

He certainly knew how to beg, but she's sadistic at heart. "One more what? Tell me how badly you yearn it. Plead for me."

Sakaguchi begged for reasonable things in the past, but never something like this. "I want another kiss, badly. I had thought of it many times, but knew it was not in my place. Please, allow me another." His fingers left her hips and threaded into her golden locks as his eyes glimmered with want.

"Now that's a good lad. Come take your reward." She wouldn't kiss him, she wondered if he possessed the courage to kiss her himself. Even in this situation she still toyed with his mind. "What are you waiting for when I'm right in front of you?" The blonde goaded, going as far as to press her body against his. His hands left her hair as arms encompassed her waist holding her form tightly to his own.

His osculate lacked the finesse of hers, it's messy, but ravenous. His tongue swirled, sampled, and he sucked as much as he could of Agatha's flavor. Her lips were so soft, smooth, and delectable… Not once did she relinquish control during the exchange, however. Her own appendage lashed back offensively and ran torturously slow along the underside of his. He seemed so lost in the moment, she couldn't help but tease him. A lustful sigh purposely left her to fill his mouth which caused his whole face to grow crimson. As the kiss was broken, she shamelessly licked away the remnants of saliva upon his lips as he panted softly.

"That was inappropriate… Allow me to apologize… Surely… There's something I should've told you..." He's at a loss of words, in spite of his attempts to regain his aplomb, appearing somewhat stern. It's naught but a poorly crafted veneer and Agatha saw through it.

"Save it, Sakaguchi. I already know what you're thinking and about to say. I always knew you fancied me and I honestly can't blame you."

To think even her hauteur was dignified, he's enchanted by it. "I don't know what all of this means…"

"It can mean whatever you wish it. I'll be expecting you in my office tomorrow morning. Don't be late, I do so value promptness. There's a lot of work waiting for you." The commander managed to ease out of his possessive hold, before turning to exit his room. Was she teasing him again? With Agatha it was difficult to tell more often than not.

"Understood. I can assure that I'll arrive without delay." He emitted a long breath of relief, but once she's at the door she left him with one more thought.

Christie had higher expectations of him now. "Eager to please me, aren't you? Let's see if you'll keep providing satisfactory results." Her vague wording intended to stimulate him, she definitely knew how to play dirty. Certainly, she meant satisfaction with his performance as her most indispensable agent.

With her gone and the door shut, he collapsed onto his bed. His palm moved over to his mouth where he could still taste her. He's amazed by what transpired. He didn't fully comprehend the ramifications of the decisions he made today. What sort of life awaited him in this foreign nation? Most importantly what did this mean for him and Agatha? It was a future clouded in obscurity, but he couldn't deny it. The Englishwoman robbed him of his heart and if she were the one to crush it, he wouldn't feel the least bit rueful.

[baddcop]

🎵🎵🎵🎵

MUSE MUSIC MEME.  * ( NO LONGER ACCEPTING. )

You sent four so I’m bouta go apeshit and do 4 songs oop. 👀

I’M NOT A SAINT. - BILLY RAFFOUL.

Well I’ve had one too many cigarettes burning up my lungsHad the taste of one too many lips hanging of my tongueSunday morning getting high, drinking here aloneThinking up a brand new alibi for not coming homeAnd I’m sorry I say “fuck” so much.

I’m not a saint, but I could be if I tryLord knows I’ve got habits to breakI’m really good at being good at goodbyesI’m gonna give you fair warning that II’m not a saint, but I could be if I tryLord knows I don’t learn from mistakesAnd I’m not here unless I’m here by your sideI’m not a saint, but I could be if I

I’m sure at this point it’s been made painfully aware how much Gavin depends on drinking, sex, fights and so on to cope with how he feels. (Although he doesn’t show it) and while he knows he shouldn’t do so he tends to self sabotage his relationships out of fear of rejection, which usually works. He tends to use it as a shield while also feeling guilty about it, as well as feeling angry and wanting someone to blame. It’s a sort of vicious cycle he’s in and he’d really rather be better because he knows he could be. Gavin is painfully smart, a lot smarter than I think he’s given credit for and a lot smarter than he lets on. It’s part of what makes him good at his job (and he is good at his job when he wants to be of course.)

Sober up and settle down, give a little talk‘Bout how I can’t keep from runnin’ ‘roundSay it’s not your fault, oh, ohAnd I’m sorry I lie so much

Gavin lies, he lies and fronts and is aggressive because that’s his only defense. He can’t seem to get out of the cycle he’s put himself into even though he knows he could be better and even though he knows it’s not exactly good for him. Misery is a comfort to him, it’s all he’s ever known, pain and being alone is what he understands and anything outside of that frightens him. It frightens him because he’s scared it will end, scared about how much it’s going to hurt when he has to go back to what he knows. And it’s a case of a self-fulfilling prophecy. He pushes people away or doesn’t try and eventually they leave and it solidifies that beliefe that he can’t be happy, that he doesn’t deserve it and that any happiness he feels is a fluke and will eventually end. It’s scary for him because he can’t control another person and he thrives on being in control, having it taken from him or having to be out of control is mortifying and he never wants to feel like how he felt when he was a kid ever again. Unfortunately, he’s gone to extremes to do so and sadly it’s worked just how it was supposed to, whether he intended to do it or not.

I’m gonna give you fair warning that IWill be the reason for the tears in your eyes

Gavin knows how he is. He knows he’s messy, depressed, angry, jealous and possessive. He knows how he acts and how he keeps people at bay and he doesn’t know how not to do so. So when someone gets close to him he tends to lock up and try to warn them, another sort of self-fulfilling prophecy type of situation where he uses it both as a means of keeping people at bay and at removing responsibility from himself to try and avoid guilt. A lot of the time he’ll use the “Well I told you– I told you how I was. This always happens. It was bound to happen again” stuff as an excuse because he hates how guilty he feels and he doesn’t want to admit that vulnerability.

GO FUCK YOURSELF. - TWO FEET.

Fucked and drank all nightActed all alrightHad no need to fightTonight, tonight

As stated previously, Gavin uses sex, alcohol and so on to cope. It definitely helps him to release his built up aggression, his need for touch, and control. Effectively, it’s the perfect means of guarding himself. He’s allowed to be in full control, he can play the role of a charming stranger for the night, he receives touch and sexual attention with no strings. Usually, if he’s looking to sate that need he’ll avoid fighting and opt instead for keeping his face unbattered to better catch people’s eyes. Men or women or whatever he doesn’t care. As long as he gets to be in control he enjoys it. Every now and then he caves and submits, is raw and relinquishes control to his fling and disappears into the night glad to never see them again and have to deal with the baggage and embarrassment of them knowing some weakness he perceives himself to have.

Cast me far awayPlay these little gamesActin’ all okayToday, today

Using his anger as a shield, as well as his rather rough behavior towards friends and coworkers, comes to him like second nature. He’s been doing it for so long he can’t imagine not pushing people away. It’s effectively the way he keeps people’s eyes off of him, no one cares to look for long when they don’t care and when they don’t really know how deep that hurt runs. He’d rather he keep people at a distance and that they return the favor, it’s much safer for him like that. Tina, Christ, they don’t know how much he carries around or just what he’s gone through. And he likes it like that.

ME, MYSELF & I. - G-EAZY & BEBE REXHA.

Oh, it’s just me, myself and ISolo ride until I die‘Cause I got me for life (Yeah)Oh, I don’t need a hand to holdEven when the night is coldI got that fire in my soul

Gavin effectively believes he’s going to die alone. He’s thought about it more than once, he’s thought about it when he was younger and he kind of tries to come to terms with that “fact” by ignoring it completely. He tries to convince himself and others that he’s better off alone and that he’ll be fine on his own. It’s a lie. He finds it really hard to trust people as a direct result of how much he was kicked around, abused, neglected and moved around like baggage as a child.

Hun, and as far as I can see, I just need privacyPlus a whole lot of tree, fuck all this modestyI just need space to do meGive the world what they’re tryna see […]‘Cause this hunger is drivin’ me, yeahI just need to be alone, I just need to be at homeUnderstand what I’m speakin’ onIf time is money I need a loanBut regardless I’ll always keep keepin’ onFuck fake friends!We don’t take L’s, we just make M’sWhile y'all follow, we just make trendsI’m right back to work when that break ends, yeah.

Everyone else in the precinct effectively has some kind of life, something outside of work. In my own personal headcanons, Tina is married, Chris is a father, Hank is babysitting Connor now that he works there. (no one with these muses has to agree to these I was just trying to flesh out the world Gavin is involved in) Everyone but Gavin at the office seems to have some sort of family or closeness outside of work. Gavin, however, does not. He’s given everything he can to this job, his career is everything to him and he uses it to keep people at bay once again. He is absolutely a very intelligent and driven man underneath all of his issues, and he’s smart enough to be bothered by the fact that he feels incredibly lonely. Yet, instead of changing, he once again just delves into his work, using anger as a means to guard himself claiming that he just needs his privacy, wants to focus on his career, trying to use his hunger to advance his career as a means to put himself above his coworkers.

Yeah, and I don’t like talkin’ to strangersSo get the fuck off me, I’m anxiousI’m tryna be cool, but I may just go ape shitSay “Fuck y'all!” to all of y'all facesIt changes though now that I’m famousEveryone knows how this lifestyle is dangerousBut I love it, the rush is amazin’Celebrate nightly and everyone ragesI found how to cope with my angersI’m swimmin’ in moneySwimmin’ in liquor, my liver is muddyBut it’s all good, I’m still sippin’ this bubblyThis shit is lovely, this shit ain’t random, I didn’t get luckyMade it right here ‘cause I’m sick with it, cuddyThey all take the money for grantedBut don’t want to work for it—tell me now, isn’t it funny? (Nah)

I really really think that Gav actually has anxiety and depression as a result of his trauma. This isn’t made very stereotypically obvious as he uses his sort of brutality and anger to overcompensate and impress people. But he can’t stand silence. He tends to bury that anxiety beneath his anger so he can more “safely” express it as “Fuck you”s and so on. Coping with his feelings via alcohol, fighting, looking for an adrenaline rush. He’s absolutely reckless sometimes both because he doesn’t care, and because he absolutely thinks he’s smart enough to get away with it. The success he’s achieved thus far isn’t something he ever places on luck no matter what, it’s the one thing he holds firm on that he worked hard for and he will without a doubt drag you if you’re not willing to put the time into your craft or goals to achieve it.

Yeah, lonely nights I laid awakePray to Lord my soul to takeMy heart’s become too cold to breakKnow I’m great, but I’m broke as hellHavin’ dreams that I’m foldin’ cakeAll my life I’ve been told to waitBut I'ma get it now, yeah, it’s no debate.

The detective has spent a lot of time on his own, that’s no surprise and I’ve probably overstated it at this point. The nights he doesn’t go out looking for a fight or fuck are… much worse honestly. He drinks himself into sleeping after a night of blasting music, screaming and howling into the night, breaking things and punching walls. Knowing full well he’s exempt from noise complaints being filed because of the landlord. He tries to do anything to drown out the noise in his head. Reed is completely aware of how cold he is, it keeps him safe but he’s absolutely broken up about it, although he’d never admit it and tries never to show it. Emotions have never been “safe” for Gavin to show, he’s been screamed at relentless inches from his face for it as a child, for crying for being sad, for being a child. Always pushed aside, never made a priority until much later in his life, until he self-sabotaged that too. Now that he’s been on his own for so long he’s not stopping for anything anymore, he’s going for what he wants and only what he wants even if it destroys him. He is angry and wounded about his past still and wants to hurt people because of it, wants to take it out on them, despite knowing it’s not really their fault. It’s just another unhealthy outlet.

ASSHOLE. - HOOLIGAN CHASE. (TW: FOR DRUG MENT.)

Baby, I’m a bad boy, I might hurt youI need a therapist and a perc too[…] I ain’t got no drugs, I’m turnin’ to an asshole

This song effectively encompasses everything about Gavin’s front. It’s a lot more vulgar and Horny than the other songs on his playlist, the entire beat just radiates his energy and so do some really key lyrics. Reed, as stated before, tends to warn people that he’s an asshole when he’s gotten into relationships as a means of omitting guilt “when” it goes wrong and to keep himself safe. Despite being a cop now, Gav’s nose wasn’t always clean for lack of a better phrase. (While he’s mostly clean now he narrowly avoided getting into quite a lot of trouble.) While he’s aware he needs some form of professional help subconsciously, he’s far too afraid to get it for himself and doesn’t really see a point as he views himself a bit like a lost cause.

[flyswhumpcenter]

Bad Things Happen Bingo! The event where you send me requests according to this marvelous card! (Red cross is the completed prompt, character headshots are prompts I’ve already filled. I don’t have any request left, so feel free to send in suggestions for this card!). 

["Android Girl" in the background intensifies]

I'll most likely sink with this ship, I'm afraid. I therefore makes it my task to bring the ship another sickfic, and even if it's kind of the same as before, it's still different in its own way I think. It's kind of OOC here, this much I'll admit, but I got carried away and couldn't stop. It's been a while since I've allowed myself to go wild and far, so this was a bundle of fun and I hope someone else appreciates it!

yeah boi it's another sylvgrid sickfic what ya gonna do 'bout dat

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Tastes Like Iron

Summary: There is a turning point in Sylvain's life and vision of the world around him. A point that just so happens to take place in the middle of a college corridor.

Fandom: Fire Emblem: Three Houses (Modern AU, pre-timeskip personalities) Ship: Ingrid/Sylvain (pre-relationship)

Wordcount: 2.8K words

Event hosted by @badthingshappenbingo

AO3 version available here.

----

It’s early in the morning when Ingrid comes up to him, emerald eyes staring right into his soul. She looks angry at him (when isn’t she? She always seems to be angry at him for a reason or the other, this won’t change soon), footsteps heavy in the echoing corridors. It’s not a sight he hasn’t seen before, frankly: they’ve been like this since they were children, only their appearance and buildings around them changing over the time.

It’s a dynamic that feels comfortable, though, so Sylvain is starting to wonder if he isn’t feeling better with this company around. This is a real paradox in itself: who likes to get scolded?

 He’s on his way to class when she bumps into him directly, as she always does to convey her words to him. She takes his scarf in her hand, gets his face nearer to hers (it’s kind of awkward, but he likes it), fury raging in her stare.

“Hello, Sylvain.”

Yet, her frowned eyebrows aren’t of anger, or at least, not as much as one would have thought would they not know Ingrid personally. However, Sylvain knows better than that, knows her better than he’d let on; and guesses this isn’t just going to be about skirt-chasing tendencies he’s trying to keep in check anyway.

Blame it on the butterflies.

 “Oh, hi, Ing,” he tells her as he musters the best grin he can give her right now. “What’s up?”

He keeps a coughing fit in as not to prove the point she’ll inevitably present him with.

“Well, I’d like to know what’s up with you, that’s for sure.”

“I don’t see what you’re talking about,” that fit escapes from his throat anyway. A few passers-by stare at them, but Ingrid seem not to give a single damn about that, so he focuses back on her.

“This. You absolutely know what I’m referring to, Sylvain. Quit granting me for dumb.”

Well, what can he reply to that? She’s already had him figured out, as she’s always done. This is getting tough, but he’s always liked having a challenge, hasn’t he?

“What’s ‘this’, huh? I’m afraid I don’t understand!” But he coughs again and his head feels stuffed, heavy on his shoulders, and he can only hope he’s doing a decent job at hiding how it really is on the inside.

“Stop taking me for a fool.”

 He may have known her since they were children, but that doesn’t prevent Ingrid from surprising him and play him like a fiddle. It’s something she has that people who have tried dating him for his heritage doesn’t have: honesty, frankness, an insight into who he is aside from his surname. There’s no point wallowing in that misery, because he knows where he’s going to end up anyway, and spending time with his childhood friend is worth more than what his family wants him to be.

And it’s because Ingrid has known him since she was a little girl that she does the thing nobody would have in the middle of a corridor like that: put the back of her hand on his forehead, keeping his weight in balance as her frown deepens. He’s spotted for sure.

 “Have you still not seen a doctor, Sylvain?! Take your health more seriously than that, you’re going to infect everybody in the school!”

The way she says his name with heavy insistence, a manner unique to her shall he add, as if she was putting a seal on it to enforce her speech, hurts in a strange, agreeable way.

“I thought you’d be the kind to scold me for not attending class.”

“Urgh, don’t try and smooth-talk me out of this! Go back home before you get someone else sick!”

He shrugs.

“If you insist then…!”

 Without a forewarning, his focus having shifted from retaining the cough in to sounding convincing in his, a fit breaks out in his throat, making its way outside, as he finally stumbles out of her grasp. His body falls forward, hands almost failing to catch him before he can entirely meet the floor. It hurts deeply and seemingly doesn’t stop, until he feels something in there wanting to exit.

Kneeling in the middle of a corridor, Ingrid’s hands wrapped around his chest, he puts a hand against his mouth as the trembles racking his chest push against his palm. The thing who wants out eventually does so, spilling between his fingers, and it doesn’t feel like harmless phlegm having formed because of the infection.

 When the fit lets off, Sylvain glances at the contents of his hand, only to realize how deep he’s gone.

Red slips off from his fingers, some dripping onto the floor, and he suddenly feels much sicker than before. No injury has ever made him react this way.

 He glances at Ingrid, panting, to notice her expression has changed from concern to horror. Her mouth is in a sort of awe as she gulps, her hands moving on their own to put his back against the wall while her stare doesn’t let go, eyes trying to search for an answer.

“This is it,” she says with a trembling voice trying to sound steady. “Sylvain, you’re seeing someone, even if you don’t want to.”

Yeah, he wasn’t going to go against that anyway.

 Sounds and images alike grow distant, even Ingrid’s voice as she speaks into her phone with vigour and a sense of urgency, even the irritating noise of his own cough. He’s drenched in sweat, his hair sticking to his skin in front of his eyes, the shift in temperatures never letting go and biting harder every time. Pulling his knees against his chest, wrapping his arms around his lap, he’s waiting for the moment where the tempest will calm down and allow him to make a run for his life.

The tempest never soothes and, instead, Ingrid’s eyes try digging into his with a sense of desperation, the phone now gone and maybe not even calling anymore.

 “Sylvain, can you hear me?!” She asks with her hands on his shoulders, slightly shaking him in the commotion.

He nods while in the midst of a coughing fit, that phlegm escaping again.

“Thank goodness…” She whispers to herself, before she changes gears entirely. “How the hell were you still standing…?!” She muses as she puts her hand on his forehead again. “It’s risen too… You’re the biggest of fools, Sylvain, do you know that?!”

“Was… aware of that by now…” He tries laughing, but it only comes out as forced. “Keep telling me that…”

“Then apply them, once and for all! Where do you think that brings you?! What the hell is going on in your head?!”

Ingrid looks aside before her glare comes back, eyes shimmering, and the world disappears behind her. Her voice echoes in the distance, yet so near him, anguish painted all over the picture he can make out of her with his tired eyes.

“Why do you always scare me so much, you jerk!”

 His breath is stolen away, lungs locking for a solid moment before he can exhale again. The hands on his shoulders weaken.

“I’m tired of cleaning after your mess, skirt-chasing or not! Even if I tell you crystal-clear, even if I insist on having you finally behave properly, you never take anything seriously and I always have to be behind you so I don’t end up losing you in the long run”

Her finger brushes against his face, right under his mouth, and she shows him a red stain left on her skin.

“This, Sylvain. Do you see it? Do you even know how much hassle you’d avoid for yourself if, for once, you’d take things seriously? If you just listened, we wouldn’t be there!”

“W-well… It’s only my business, right…? I don’t know why you get so worked up for me… Is it because we’re friends…? Are you in love…?”

“Shut up! I don’t want to hear that dying voice of yours!”

“Oh c’mon, that’s kinda mean…”

“Healthy people don’t cough up blood, you fool! Stop talking about it as if that was just the cold it was two weeks ago!”

“Still… My business, not yours, Ing;” His flirtatious tone is nowhere to be seen.

“It’s my business too because I don’t want to lose you!”

Her voice breaks, a part of his heart follows.

“… I don’t want to lose someone again,” she mutters as her gaze lowers. “Especially not like that.”

The rest of his heart crumbles under the weight of the feelings it stores endlessly.

 He musters what strength he somehow has left, brain almost entirely numbed by a fever blurring his sight and rendering his touch inaccurate, and pulls her against his chest, asking for no cue. There is a puddle of blood in the back of his throat, but he tries smiling if not just for her, and realizes in his daze just how much he’s fucked up.

“It’s not usual for you to lose your composure so much… Ing…” He whispers, the ring of classes beginning drowning in his swimming vision.

She doesn’t reply, her heart almost against his, their beats never matching.

“I’m sorry for worrying you so much, Ing…”

His consciousness is dimming as he sees dots appearing in front of his vision, but not having to retain spitting blood on her.

“Didn’t realize until now… that it mattered to someone…”

 Everything disappears before him before he knows it.

  When he eventually comes to, Sylvain is surprised he’s still actually part of the living world. It’s no better than being a corpse right now, considering his entire body stopped responding efficiently. There’s no distraction when his vision is mostly a black blur, so he has the time and peace of mind to think about how, yeah, this has been a fiasco and he can only blame himself for it. Not like he’s ever blamed anything but fate, the order of things, the world’s strange whims and himself. His business, not his, after all.

It should have only affected him, but then Ingrid burst into his secrecy, and the entire order of things got taken apart.

 His eyelids are heavier than shields and barely open at first, but they eventually allow the light to enter his sight. It hurts at first, worsening the pounding headache settling under his skull’s surface, until he gets over it and observes the change in scenery: this isn’t the corridor where he last spoke to Ingrid. In fact, aside from similar neon lights, it feels different: the smell isn’t the same, the air isn’t the same and, if he glances with how little his neck can move, he can conclude that the furniture isn’t the corridor’s.

Not that it wasn’t a dead giveaway all along, considering he’s lying in an actual bed and not against a wall, and that there are familiar emerald eyes looking in his direction.

 “I… Ing…?” His voice sounds worse than before, it’s like he’s still half-asleep.

“Sylvain,” she replies with a calm voice, her usual stern tone, and he can’t help but smile. “You’re awake.”

“Yeah…” He continues glancing around. “What’s this place…? I don’t recognize it…” He still has the urge to cough, even though it’s less violent than before. That’s a nice change of pace.

“The hospital. Don’t worry, you won’t be here for more than a day or two.”

“…makes sense.”

 The silence following this is only short-lived, as Ingrid picks the ball back up merely moments after, just enough to allow him to cough a little more.

“You’re lucky your life wasn’t directly threatened by what’s festering inside your chest. I was surprised myself how fortunate you’ve been with this.”

“I wouldn’t exactly describe being sick… as lucky, Ing…”

“At least you’re recognizing you are, now. It’s progress, I suppose.”

“How can I deny it when I’m like this?”

“You can’t, and that’s a good thing.”

 She doesn’t look as angry as she did before, but he can still tell she’s got a problem with something. Most likely him.

“Wait, you’re not in class…?”

“I’d like to officially inform you that you made the professor sick with your germs. Fortunately, he was prevented from making class by the collective efforts of Mercedes and the other professors. Which brings me to the point I wanted to discuss with you…”

Here it comes.

“Can this please serve you as a wake-up call, once and for all?”

Huh, that’s less painful than he expected it to be.

“Oh…”

 He’s too tired to play pretend and too conscious of her feelings to pretend like he doesn’t know what she’s referring to. It’s been years since he’s started taking less and less things seriously, to the point his own future is something he’s not worried about for a long time, and he’s just realized how harmful this has always been. He’s something more than his heritage, this he now knows for sure, but this wasn’t the way to go.

This has never been the way to go around with this, and Ingrid has always been right; but he’s been too deaf to hear her until now.

 “I finally see why you’ve been so insistent; or so I think…” He’s not sure of much anymore.

“To say that I had to see you cough up blood to hear you say that…” She sighs. “At least, I can hope this means I won’t always be to be behind you, right?”

“Yeah… Sorry for worrying you all the time, Ing…”

“You better be sorry!”

The small laugh she tries to contain is the cutest thing he’s heard in ages.

“Still… Thanks for always having my back. I don’t thank you nearly enough…”

He’s still weak, this much he can tell by how low and gravely his voice sounds, but he’s grateful and doesn’t want to close his eyes if it’s for her to vanish by the time he awakens.

 This, in itself, reminds him of how much Glenn’s death had an impact on Ingrid back then; and he cannot help but hate a part of himself for failing to notice that before.  

After all, if he wants to win her heart over, he has to take in account her feelings, right? It’s only normal, he has to work more on that.

 “I have to say,” she continues leading their conversation, “you’ve made an effort, recently. I see you flirting with anything that moves less than usual.”

He blinks. He’s surprised, but she’s right: he’s been less preoccupied with girls, recently, but he didn’t think it was actually noticeable. Blame it on the butterflies again. Right now, they’re rampaging throughout his abdomen.

“I just wish you’d be more careful to your actions and yourself, that’s it. I won’t be there to keep you in check, one day, you know.”

“I know… That’s why I didn’t want you to worry, but I guess I couldn’t prevent that…”

He coughs again, the iron aftertaste never letting go, but never coming back either.

“How bold of you to assume you could stop a friend from worrying about you.”

 He wishes they were more than friends, but he’s a coward and she’s too good for him. The irony: she’s the one girl he knows doesn’t hold an interest in him only for his bloodline, and yet she’ll never be more than his childhood friend because she knows him too much to accept dating him, even as a joke.

The red he sees creeping on her cheeks has to be a feverish delirium.

 “Anyway, I hope this bronchitis will make for a good lesson,” she scolds him again.

“Yeah, same,” he replies as he looks back to the ceiling. He hopes the blushing he senses on his own face is hidden by the splotches of fever he could see in the mirror this morning.

His eyelids flutter without his consent, and he sees her less and less per second, having run out of strength to keep himself awake.

“I should let you rest at last,” she eventually says as she begins getting up, which is when he notices her hand leaving his. His skin feels cold again, hair on his arm rising underneath clothes he wasn’t wearing earlier today.

“But… Will you be there, when I’ll wake up…?”

 His question, his façade slipping up and shattering to the ground in its fall, makes her stop in her stead and, instead of facing the door, she turns her head in his direction.

“I’ll try my best. I can’t always be behind you, right?”

“I get it… Have a nice day, Ing…”

“Goodnight, Sylvain,” she tells him as the door opens and closes.

It feels soothing to go back to sleep.

[kasuomikori]

One word...

Reader P.O.V

As we were walking down the bridge, in magnificent elven city of Rivendell. I was amazed, the waterfalls, mountains and nature were beautiful. I was so lost in amazement that I barely noticed Gandalf speaking to someone, he was elf.

"My lord Elrond is not here." Said elf that was speaking to Gandalf. He looked like he is young around 23 in human years. 'Really (Y/N) he is a freaking elf! He could have around three thousand years easily!' As I lost myself in thought yet again, I was very surprised when dwarfs had pushed me behind them along with Bilbo and encircled us. But everything cleared up when I saw big number of elves on horses thundering towards us. They encircled us.

"Gandalf!" "Lord Elrond! Mellonnen, Mo evinedh? (My friend, where have you been?) " Said Gandalf bowing. "Farranem 'lamhoth i udul o charad, Dagganem tim na Inat Vedui. (We've been hunting pack of Orcs that came up from the South.)" The person who is now known to me as lord Elrond said. He drew his cloak from his horse, and dare I say very gracefully dismounted. He met Gandalf in mere two steps and hugged him. He withdraw from his hug, and took an Orcs sword from his waist, and gave it to the elf who met us when we came here.

"Strange for Orcs to come so near our borders, something or someone has draw them near." Said lord Elrond. Immediately my face etched in guilty expression because I know that we are the ones who drove them near. But in the same moment as I thought that, Gandalf as he has just read my mind said. "Ah.. That may have been us." Gandalf said gesturing to thirteen dwarfs, hobbit and me. Elrond glanced around company, I cached his eyes I looked at and him smiled and nodded. As hello. At last his gaze fell upon Thorin. "Welcome Thorin son of Thrain".

At that point I zoned out of their conversation. Instead I admired elf lord in front of me. He had pitch black, long hair, his eyes were captivating gray, his nose perfectly shaped and his lips thin. Even for elf he was beautiful. My heart stirred in my chest. ' Really Y/N, you are admiring freaking elf! You got off your mind or what?'

"Nartho i noer, toltho i viruvor. Boe i annam vann a nethail vin. ("Light the fires, fetch the miruvor [wine]. We must feed our guests".) Elrond said but that caused confusion between the dwarfs so Gloin decided to step up. "What is he saying!? Does he offers us insult?!" He said in pretty much harsh tone. "No master Gloin he is offering you food". Gandalf replied at which Gloin calmed down and said " Well in that case lead on". I had to stop myself from laughing. Gandalf looked at me confused as to why am I smiling, I just shook my head.

As we were heading to the hall where we will be eating, I stayed behind. I wanted to do something that fell on my mind as soon as I saw the valley.

"You go ahead eat, I'm not very hungry. But I would want to see gardens around here. That is if you approve it my lord Elrond". I said. His gray eyes looked at me, small smile played on his lips and he just nodded. That caused me to smile. "THANK YOU! U-Uh.. I mean I'm ever grateful". My embarrassment got better off of me so I ran away in to beautiful gardens.

-------------------------------------------Time skip--------------------------------------------------

As I was walking around gardens, I remembered my beautiful home. I remembered the place where the sky is ever blue, and hearts are ever kind, from place where the knights are born. Where people smile brighter, and sun shines stronger. My homeland is... Was full of mountains, rivers, forests and waterfalls. My city was just like Rivendell, surrounded by mountains, and trough it flowing clear river. Tears welled up in my eyes as I remembered everything, my burned homeland, my dead family and friends, the torture.. Every memory that I tried to bury and lock deep in my mind came flooding back. My heart started throbbing, and my eyes started wetting. I just fell on soft grass beneath me, and cried until darkness took me.

-------------------------------------------Time skip--------------------------------------------------

I woke up, to see sun setting. My mind started registering that my supposedly short absence lasted at least three hours. So I jumped up on my legs.. BIG mistake as I instantly felt dizzy. But got hold on some tree that helped me steady myself, and walked towards place that I started my walk.

-------------------------------------------Time skip--------------------------------------------------

When I was out of gardens I started walking towards place where I was told that they have dinner. I walked in to see dwarfs on two separate tables, Thorin standing and lord Elrond and Gandalf on the head table. Besides Elrond was elf who I learned his name was Lindir, nice lad. As I was walking in, I just nodded at everyone as my signature way of saying hello, they nodded back and continued eating, but one of the elf maids brought another stool and put it beside Dwalin and gestured for me to sit with smile, I of course smiled back and sat.

"Can't say I fancy maids, they are too thin. They are all high cheek bones and creamy skin. Not much facial hair. Although that one there is not bad." He said looking at clearly male elf, I chocked at water that I was drinking, nearly bursting out laughing. "That's not an elf maid." Dwalin said, Fili turned to face him shocked expression crossed his face, as if asking him really. Dwalin just shook his head. That's when all table, besides me roared in laughter, for me it was just small smile.

"It's funny." He said nodding slightly.

"Thirteen dwarfs, halfling and human strange travelling companions Gandalf." Elrond said looking at us, that caused me to perk up. "These are decedents of house of Durin, and surprisingly cultured. Gandalf said, and I nearly laughed as I saw Bombur stuffing food in his mouth 'Oh the irony'. I thought to myself smirking.

"Change the tune why don't you? I feel like I'm on the funeral."Nori complied  "Did somebody die?" Oin added. "Alright lads there is only one thing for that." Bofur said and climbed on the table.

'There is an inn, a merry old inn,

beneath an old grey hill,

And there they brew a beer so brown That the Man in the Moon himself came down one night to drink his fill.

The ostler has a tipsy cat that plays a five-stringed fiddle; And up and down he runs his bow, Now squeaking high, now purring low, now sawing in the middle.

The landlord keeps a little dog that is mighty fond of jokes; When there's good cheer among the guests, He cocks an ear at all the jests and laughs until he chokes.

They also keep a hornéd cow as proud as any queen; But music turns her head like ale, And makes her wave her tufted tail and dance upon the green.

And O! the rows of silver dishes and the store of silver spoons! For Sunday there's a special pair, And these they polish up with care on Saturday afternoons.

The Man in the Moon was drinking deep, and the cat began to wail; A dish and a spoon on the table danced, The cow in the garden madly pranced, and the little dog chased his tail.

The Man in the Moon took another mug, and rolled beneath his chair; And there he dozed and dreamed of ale, Till in the sky the stars were pale, and dawn was in the air.

Then the ostler said to his tipsy cat: "The white horses of the Moon, They neigh and champ their silver bits; But their master's been and drowned his wits, and the Sun'll be rising soon!"

So the cat on his fiddle played hey-diddle-diddle, a jig that would wake the dead: He squeaked and sawed and quickened the tune, While the landlord shook the Man in the Moon: "It's after three!" he said"

The table was MESS! Dwarfs were throwing food around, and nearly got Elrond three times! Gandalf looked like he would love to just disappear, an I wasn't much better. I would so LOVE for earth to open up and just swallow me whole. My face red from embarrassment but also from anger.

"ENOUGH!" I roared, banged my hands against table and shot up from my stool, everything stopped. "NOW LISTEN TO ME! YOU WILL CLEAN ALL, AND I MEAN ALL OF THIS! AM I CLEAR!" I could say that they were scared, even Thorin paled little. But I couldn't care less. I could feel gaze of Elrond and Gandalf and everyone in room. But I couldn't bring myself to care. "But.. we were just having fun." Fili and Kili commented but their bad luck was that I heard them. "You were having fun?! Do you see what you did of this place?! You thought that these poor people are going to clean up your mess?! NO WAY I'm letting that happen! Oh and one more thing.. There is so many that are hungry and you... YOU ARE THROWING FOOD AROUND! Next time you decide to do that, make sure I'm not there. Otherwise... Well you don't want to see what happens!" I was so angry that I could feel my body shaking. But just to stop myself from doing anything reckless, I took deep breath and exhaled. "I'm going for a walk. By the time I'm back, this place is going to be clean. AM. I. CLEAR?" I asked, all of them just nodded, I turned around and ran out. My blood was boiling.

---------------------------------------------Time skip------------------------------------------------

I was lying on my back in gardens watching stars. When I hear someone walking behind me. I turned around to see Gandalf standing there."There you are!" His warm voice rang. "Yeah here I am." I answered. "Mind if I sit?" "No of course not." "What was that back in hall? I mean yes it wasn't good of them to act like that.. But still wasn't enough for you to explode like that." He asked "My actions were not really good I admit.. But I got so angry that I couldn't think properly. I mean when I remember what I had to go trough just for peace of bread.." I started saying but quickly shut up. But apparently not quickly enough because Gandalf straightened his back, "What you had to do?" He asked his gaze confused but also scared. "No.. Nothing forget it.." I said, but his gaze was enough to make me tell him. "Well.. When someone wants to torture you there are two ways. First psychological and second is physical. I got tortured both ways and let me tell you... I wasn't fun at all. One of their physical torture was forbidding me to eat. I would need to be on brink of death to get peace of bread." All my memories came flooding back, my heart throbbed as I began remembering all awful things I had gone trough. Before I got chance to notice it tears were rolling down my cheeks. Gandalf just wiped them off.. "Do not fret little one. You are safe here." He said his voice soothing. "I think it's time for us to go back. You got lord Elrond pretty worried, but also his people were very thankful because you had "forced" dwarfs clean that place up!" He said small smile playing on his lips, which also got me to smile.

---------------------------------------------Time skip------------------------------------------------

Form that night already passed five years, I'm now living in Rivendell. I had gone out with dwarfs to reclaim mountain, but there lost Thorin, Kili and Fili I still miss them. But as I didn't have anywhere to go lord Elrond has offered me place in Rivendell. Now I'm his adviser along Lindir. With both I'm good friends. Although my feelings for Elrond weren't as platonic as they were for Lindir.

'Really I'm again thinking of that! Sober up Y/N! Elf finds love just once, and Elrond already had his! So get back on track!' I was thinking again, musing about Elrond. But my heart was shattering every time when I remembered that elf can only love once, and the one I love has already found his one love, who is waiting for him. But as I continued my musings I saw ellon who stole my heart without even knowing it walking towards me.

"Again lost in thought Mellon?" Elrond asked smiling his tone joking. I was one of few who had privilege to hear him joke an see him smile so genuinely. "Yes... Have lot on my mind..." His smile disappeared as soon as he heard pain in my voice. "What is bothering you Mellon." His voice now serious and concerned, I looked at the eyes I fell in love with, to see that they match with tone of his voice. "I.... I just..." I sighted "There is one person that I love... But I know that he couldn't love me back in million years." I finally said what was on my mind. But Elrond looked taken aback. "Mellon... You never told me you loved someone..." He said.. "Yeah... I did... For long time too.." I said. Elrond didn't looked too happy. "Don't worry Mellon... I promise to you that whoever doesn't love you, doesn't deserve you because he is totally out of his mind." He said "So you call yourself crazy?" I said it even before I could think of it, and as  soon as those words left my mouth I regretted them. "Wh.." He didn't even get chance to finish his sentence as I shot up and began running towards my chambers. I could hear him calling my name but I ignored it. As I came to my room, I locked it, threw myself on bed and began crying. Because I knew that it will never be the same. My relationship with Elrond will be completely different. I shattered our friendship! I completely destroyed it with my idiotic behavior!

----------------------------------------------Time skip-----------------------------------------------

I was crying for whole hour, and began drifting off to sleep. But knock disturbed me.  "Who is it?" I ask. "It's me Y/N open the door. We have to talk." I heard Elrond's voice trough door, my body was temporally paralyzed. "Y/N open the door." His voice was firm and I figured he was angry, so it would be better to open door before he got more angry. So I got up and unlocked door. As soon as click from unlocking was heard Elrond got in room, and hugged me to his chest. After that without any warning his lips smashed on mine, I could feel every emotion he put in it.. Desperation, pain, hurt, happiness everything.

"My heart, joy and all stars on the sky! I love you too." He said his face bright and in his eyes I could see happiness.

Just that one word. Just word LOVE changed the rest of my life.

[rofics]

Come Together pt 14

Bts gang au x hybrid reader and friend

Warnings:cussing, blood, graphic bone breaking, broken bones, drowning? Being submerged in water

An: sorry for not uploading anything, I’ve been tired from work and got really sick one week😭

http://rofics.tumblr.com/post/174701511987/come-together-pt-15

We’ll find you Y/N, whoever and wherever you are

I growl in frustration and hit the cold ground with a curled fist, there wasn’t even a secret door! I yell out into the empty room, anger rising as I plop on the ground. I regain my composure and look around again, scanning every inch of the room.

Lay is a trickster, they create scenarios that feel real and that’s how they get you. They play on your emotions,and fears.

One of my fears? Being forgotten

I close my eyes and think, I think of the real world. I think anout my childhood, about growing up with Sacha, the memories I’ve made, about Eli, Kyra, Bts, I think of anything that makes me feel real. I open my eyes and spot a door in the corner of the room, bingo! I stand up and approach the door cautiously, you never know what could go wrong. My hand reaches out for the handle, fingers curling around the knob and pull it towards me. I peak my head out through the crack and see nothing so I open it more. The coast is clear.

I took one step out then the ground disappeared from underneath me. I crashed onto the ground, ankle breaking with a sickening crack. I groaned and looked down, the bone was poking out from the skin. I grit my teeth and watch as the bone reforms, smooth skin replacing the gruesome scene. I stand up with a huff and look around, I’m back in the same damn room!

‘You’re not going to get anywhere Jinx, that asshole has the whole place booby trapped. You’ll just use up all of your energy trying to get out’ Kyra warns so I growl.

‘I refuse to just stay here!’ I say, crossing my arms.

‘I know, but this isn’t your choice, this is all up to the others. The more they remember you, the easier you can get out. He made this scenario a damn game’ Kyra explains and I kick at the air.

‘They better fucking hurry then’ I mutter, sliding down the cold wall onto the even colder floor. My tail wraps around me as I lean back, silence suffocating me.

*With the others*

The meeting ended, it went by agonizingly slow. Exo were the first to leave, Lay had some kind of look on his face that nobody but Jin picked up on.

Leo breaks off from Vixx for a second and approaches Bts

“Yes?” Namjoon questions in confusion, N staring at Leo from the distance.

“You’re missing someone, you’re a group of ten, not nine.” Leo says which causes Sacha to scoff

“What is with all of you?! Did you take an extra dose of crazy this morning!! There is NOBODY ELSE!” She shouts in frustration, sick of hearing the same thing over and over.

“I think you’ve had the dose of crazy, the missing person is your best friend. And they’re your sibling, it’s sad that you don’t notice this” Leo states, pointing at Eli who looks at him in confusion

“I have a sibling?” He asks no one in particular, head tilted.

“He’s right! Their name is Y/N, ring a bell at all?” Kyra asks, hoping to strike one of the others. V thinks to himself for a bit, racking his brain for anything.

“I think...we are missing someone” he states, making Kyra smile widely.

“Yeah! I didn’t feel anything earlier but we are! Holy crap I have a sibling!!!” Eli cheers making Kyra laugh

“You have a twin, you’re the younger one though” she giggles, watching Eli pout. Sacha shakes her head, crossing her arms.

“I agree with Sacha, this missing person doesn’t make any sense” Jimin mutters.

“Thank you!” She exclaims, throwing her arms up in the air. Kyra scrunches her face at Sacha, she’s a real bitch in this alternate universe.

“Why are you getting so upset? We’re missing an important member of this gang! Don’t you care at all?” Eli questions, facing Sacha.

“No, I don’t. Because there is no missing person!” She replies, not backing down.

“I think I also agree with Sacha, we don’t have a missing person” Yoongi chimes.

“I think we’ve had enough chat, let’s go back home and discuss properly” Namjoon steps in, using his authoritative voice. Everyone backs down from arguing, not wanting to get on his bad side. Jungkook once again takes the car with Jin and slides into the back seat with Tae. The ride back was silent, way too silent for comfort.

*Back with Y/N*

I could fell the tension at the meeting and it honestly broke my heart hearing Sacha denying my existence. I’m glad Tae and Eli remember though! The more people who believe, the easier I can get out of here. Yoongi not remembering me isn’t a shocker, same for Jimin. I feel like after the evil sea creature incident he doesn’t like me anymore.

I sigh once again and lean my head on the wall, this fucking sucks. My existence rests in the hands of my friend who doesn’t believe I exist in this twisted ass alternate universe. I stand up and march right back to the door, I fling it open and go to take a step out

‘Wait! Are you crazy?’ Kyra shouts at me

‘Yes! And pissed off!’ I shout back

‘You don’t know what he has in store for you! It could be dangerous!’ She replies, much quieter this time.

‘I know, but at this rate it’s going to take Sacha a long ass time to remember me and I’m not going to sit around’ I say and she sighs at me.

‘Fine, just be careful okay? I have to help Sacha remember you, just yell for me if you need guidance’ Kyra tells me and I nod

‘I will, and thank you’ I reply with a smile. Her voice disappears so I focus my attention back to the opened door. I see the flimsy wood where I fell through the first time, I jump over it onto a safe looking spot. My eyes scan the ground, I use Earth to help me find weak spots in the floor.

I make it safely to a flight of wooden stairs, and not the nice kind. The ones where they were uneven and have the giant gaps in between where something could grab at your ankles. I groan to myself and take one step down, then another, and another, one more. I slowly descend, body ready to fight. Luckily nothing happens so I peek to my left and to my right. There are two long, dimly lit, empty hallways.

Spirit says to go right so I comply, my senses saying this was the right decision. I walk slowly, and quietly once again ready to fight. The hallway just looms ahead so I look behind me and stop. I haven’t made any progress, behind me is the staircase I just came from. I sigh and curse the world

“This shit is really pissing me off Lay. Why don’t you face me head on instead of playing this game? Demons are fearless right? So why are you hiding like a little bitch from a simple mutt like me?” I yell, doing a spin. The lights flicker and the ground contorts under me, I fall again and land on a wooden chair with metal restraints. The metal wraps around my wrists and ankles as soon as my butt meets the chair.

“Really? This is all you could come up with?” I laugh, flexing my fingers. The temperature suddenly drops and the room begins to fill with water

‘Oh shit, oh shit!’ I think to myself, watching the water rise. I hiss at the freezing cold temperature as it hits my shins, I know struggling won’t help so I try and prep myself. The water rises to my torso, then my chest, my neck

*deep breath* then I’m finally engulfed. I’m glad Kyra knew ice magic as well because I’d be a goner from this negative temperature. I look around but gasp, I’m back to when the car crashed into the water! Except, nobody is there. I only see the car sinking to the bottom, my body bobs in the middle of the water. It’s so dark I can’t even see far enough with light radiating from me. I won’t lie, I felt very vulnerable right now. I felt the water shift, meaning I’m not alone right now. Something knocks into one leg of my chair, turning my body to the side.

I’m met with, can you guess? That’s right, bright red eyes and razor sharp teeth. The creature latches onto my shoulders, pushing me through the water. I could feel its claws tearing the flesh on my shoulder, blood leaving a trail in the water. More and more creatures appear, digging their claws into different parts of my body.

I then realize that I’m an idiot...I CAN CONTROL METAL. I was in the chair for no reason.

The restraints break in half so I start swinging and kicking. I was beyond pissed at this point, limbs turning into different elements to kill all of these creatures. With their claws out of me my body begins to heal as I swim away, trying to find a direction.

‘Geez Y/N! Why in the hell didn’t you call for help?!!! This isn’t real! You have to remember that!’ Kyra questions

‘I know it’s not real! My energy is fading and I’m not thinking straight!’ I yell, willing the water to vanish. The water starts to retreat and the walls of the room come back into view. I keep my head above water until there’s no more left, landing on my feet gently. I summon fire to try and warm up my body, I may be a fast healer but I wasn’t trying to get hypothermia. I sit back down on the ground, fatigue washing over me.

‘Are you okay?’ Kyra asks and I snort

‘Do I look okay?’ I retort and get a sigh in response

‘I don’t know how to make Sacha remember you, she’s in denial’

‘I have no idea either, maybe try and bring up important memories? Like our parents deaths, or her dating Jaebum, dating Hoseok. Something!’ I reply and Kyra goes silent

‘Um about that...in the universe...her parents aren’t dead. And neither are yours...’ she mumbles and my heart thumps.

‘They’re alive?’ I whisper, tears welling up in my eyes.

‘Yes, but this won’t help get you back. Is there any way you can manifest yourself in their world? Maybe seeing you will jog their memories’ she asks and I shrug.

‘It’s your power, can I manifest?’ I question and she shrugs back.

‘Maybe? Take my hands, we’re going to try’ she states. I stick my hands out in the air, and fell her ghost ones hold onto mine tightly. She begins to say a spell and I follow, our voices becoming one as the world spins. When I open my eyes I’m in the house, which looks exactly the same. My eyes snap open at the sound of car doors shutting. Kyra straightens up as footsteps approach the door, hand turning the knob. The door opens, revealing the others who stop.

“You need to let me explain”

-Ro! Sorry if this is late😭😭 my a/n explains why but I hope you all enjoy!