#and then if I find the magical motivation or a willing spirit I manage to do it again? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wingsofkpop · 4 years ago

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Hiraeth - I.VII: Shattered Memories

pairing(s): Hybrid!Im Jaebeom x Reader, Witch!Mark Tuan x Reader, Werewolf!Jackson Wang x Reader, Vampire!Park Jinyoung x Reader, Supernatural!Got7 x Reader

genre: Supernatural!AU, Dark Magic!AU, Angst, Fluff, light Smut

warnings: Mature language, mentions of death and murder, mentions of trauma, brief depictions of sexual content, nudity, mentions of alcohol, some satanic themes, etc.

word count: 6,9k

synopsis: How far are you willing to go to find out the truth about Moon Dye Bay?…

chapter directory

Your eyes desperately survey the dim room, searching for a way to escape from this strange man who magically appeared in your bedroom. There’s no possibility of reaching the door without alerting him to your motives, nor is the window even an option since your apartment is almost nine stories up. You’ll need to come up with a different plan… Even if it means fighting your way out.

“Look, I know it’s hard to believe—”

You glare incredulously at the stranger, curling further into your bed to create more distance between your forms while hissing, “Jackson Wang died years ago, so unless you have some logical explanation or something, then I’m going to kindly ask you to get out of my fucking apartment before I call the police!”

“I do have a logical explanation!” The man insists as you take another glance at your surroundings. If you play your cards right, you might be able to grab the tea mug off your nightstand, throw it at the stranger, and while he’s distracted, make a break for the door. If anything, the noise will hopefully wake up Sana…

You snap out of your thoughts when you notice the man beginning to approach your safe perch. Deciding now is better than never, you lurch forward to grab the cup and heave it toward the stranger with all your might. However, the object merely soars straight through the man’s head and shatters against the opposite wall with a loud crash. He continues to stare at you as if nothing even happened.

A choked breath slips past your lips. “What… the fuck…”

“I tried to tell you.” The man raises his hands, as if to promise pacifism, and literally slides one arm inside the closed door of your closet, “I am Jackson Wang, and I am dead… but you’re still somehow able to see my spirit.”

“So you’re… a ghost?”

He nods.

You narrow your eyes, still suspicious. “If you’re Jackson, then how did you die?”

“I was killed.”

“By who?”

Jackson tilts his head, “Mark never told you…?”

Your shoulders slightly loosen at the mention of your witch best friend, but you still remain on your toes in case you have to grab and weaponize your lamp. “How do you know about Mark and I?”

“Because I’ve been watching you guys.” Jackson’s eyes widen. “Shit—that sounded really creepy. Think of it like… a guardian angel? Kind of?”

“What?”

He waves his hands as if expelling the idea before moving on, “If you’re a supernatural being, and you die, your spirit doesn’t really cross over like a mortal would. You’re kind of just… stuck in this place of limbo called the Other Side.”

“But how are you able to be here? And how can I see you?”

“Spirits can attach themselves to people or objects, and use their energy to stay in the land of the living.” Jackson shrugs, “As for how you can see me, I have no clue. I’m honestly just as surprised as you are.”

You bite your lip, trying to configure whether he’s telling the truth. If only you had asked Mark to describe Jackson back in the cave, then maybe you could have matched up his appearance. But all you have to go off of is this ghost’s words… which for the most part, seem genuine. And he hasn’t tried to hurt you—big props.

“Okay. Let’s just say I believe you for now,” You start before quickly raising a stern finger to point your companion, “but I have tons of questions. For starters, why the hell are you in my room?”

“I don’t really know.” Jackson grimaces, rubbing the back of his neck. “It sounds really weird, but it was like I was drawn to you…”

“Drawn to me? You mean like a magnetic pull or something?”

He nods. “Exactly. But I really don’t know why. Maybe it has to do with how you can see me.”

Feeling hot, you shove the heavy blankets from your body and embrace the newfound cold air against your bare skin. An exhausted, baffled sigh escapes as you bury your face in your palms, hoping to calm the throbbing in your head. Your thoughts are too wild though, and you end up meeting Jackson’s gaze in a matter of seconds.

“So am I supposed to play Ghost Whisperer and help you cross over…?”

“I don’t think so.” You fight off the urge to flinch as Jackson collapses onto the end of your bed with a deep huff, “But whatever it is, it’s really nice to have someone to talk to…”

“Are you alone? Like can you talk to other ghosts?”

“I can, but it doesn’t happen very often. A lot of people on the Other Side can be pretty… intense.”

To your dismay, your heart yearns for him. You grew up on your own after all, so you can understand what it feels like to be lonely.

“You never answered my question from before.” You say after a brief moment of silence, “...Who killed you?”

Jackson’s eyes are dark as he thinks over your question, almost hesitating to give you the answer. While he’s debating with himself, you take the time to study his features. Now that he’s sitting entirely in the light and you’re able to see everything.

You’re not surprised you mistook him as a human, because there’s literally no physical detail that reveals his ghastly nature. Unlike the ghost stories you’ve known, his skin is dark like honey and not transparent, while his lips are slightly chapped and hued the palest of pinks. His hair is a mocha-type brown with a couple sun-kissed caramel highlights, complimenting the sharpness of his handsome features.

In summary, he looked no less human than another man. Although probably a bit more on the attractive side.

“It’s honestly a long and complicated story.” Jackson says after a while, yanking your attention away from his well-defined jawline. Even so, you still continue to stare as he leans back to lay on your mattress, staring up at the ceiling with a blank expression. “I should really tell you everything from the beginning.”

“It’s not like I’m going anywhere at…” You peer at the clock above your closet, “3 AM. We’ve got plenty of time to talk.”

He shakes his head, “It’s not that easy. I can’t stay on this plane for too long, or else some of the witches on the Other Side will pull me back.”

“How long do you have?”

“Honestly… seconds.” The ghost forces himself back to a sitting position in order to better face you, “We’re technically not supposed to cross into the plane of the living. I’ve been caught a couple times before, so the witches have been keeping a close eye on me.”

You furrow your brows. “Why don’t the witches want you over here?”

“Because they’re afraid of upsetting the balance of nature. You’ve talked to Mark a little about that, right?”

“He mentioned it once or twice.” You watch as Jackson rises from your bed and begins to head back to the corner in which you first saw him. He catches your gaze when he turns back around, offering forth a small smile.

“Sorry for scaring you, by the way.” He chuckles.

You shrug, your own lips upturning slightly. “It’s not everyday you talk to a ghost.”

Jackson nods at your response before glancing toward the mounted clock. It’s subtle, but you manage to catch the slight flash of worry that overtakes his bright irises. When he turns his attention back to you, however, the concern is gone.

“I don’t know when I’ll be able to return, but in the meantime, I want you to go talk to my pack.” Unlike beforehand, Jackson’s tone is scarily serious. Though it still contains remnants of his unusual gentleness. “They’ll tell you the basics you need to know to start. And, (Y/N)?”

“Yeah?”

Jackson’s eyes soften. “I don’t want Mark to know anything about this, okay? You’ll understand better when you hear the story.”

“Of course.” You thumb at a loose thread along the seam of your pillowcase before shaking your head toward the ghost, “Before you go, can you at least tell me who killed you?”

“Like I told you, it’s complicated…” He sighs, “But if you have to know, the Prime Two had a hand in my death… specifically Jaebeom.”

You don’t know what you were expecting, but it certainly wasn’t the name of the ancient hybrid. Still, it surprises you, and it doesn’t. Given the tension all between Mark, the pack, and Jinyoung and Jaebeom, it actually kind of makes sense. But what about the conflict that Changbin hinted at? Or Jaebeom’s bitterness with Mark? What has everyone been keeping from you?

So many puzzles pieces, yet no clue how to fit them together.

“I have to go now, but I’ll come to you as soon as I can.” Jackson’s urge brings you back to reality. “Just do what I said and get as much info as you can, okay?”

You nod. “I’m on it. See you soon, I guess?”

Jackson smiles again. “See you soon, (Y/N).”

You open your mouth to say something further, but in the literal blink of an eye, Jackson is gone. Just vanished into thin air. If you didn’t know any better, you swear you hallucinated the entire conversation… but after all you’ve witnessed in Moon Dye Bay, you do unfortunately know better.

With a groan, you fall back into your pillows, although the exhaustion from before is long gone. You doubt you’ll be able to fall asleep anytime soon, so you rise from your bed and set out to clean up the broken pieces of the mug you threw at Jackson only minutes before.

Guess having tea before bed comes in handy sometimes.

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

Steam wafts through the tiled bathroom, gathering in a blanket of fog along the glass walls of the shower. Jaebeom releases a sigh of relief as the hot water beats against his bare back and shoulders, massaging the tension from his muscles and soaking the rest of his naked body. To gain better access to the stream, he leans forward and presses his hands against the fogged glass for support. Less he wants to slip and fall.

Jaebeom peers down to watch the water spill down the drain, tinted red from the blood decorating his skin—Jinyoung’s blood, to be more specific. His mind immediately rushes back to the memory of his brother calling out for help in such agony and pain. He wanted to ignore it. He tried not to care. But then Jinyoung called out his name… what else was he supposed to do?

Jinyoung deserved a lesson for getting involved in witch business again, but Jaebeom couldn’t just sit back and let him suffer through the hallucinations of their hell of a childhood. He curses himself for giving into such weakness and angrily scrubs away the patch of dried blood on his forearm.

Maybe if you hadn’t looked at him with those bright, horrified eyes of yours after he left the room… then maybe his inhumanity could have won the battle over his sanity.

Jaebeom continues to clean himself as his thoughts wander like the steam of the shower. Jinyoung’s fever broke earlier, so he should sleep much more soundly for the next few hours or so. His body will need time to heal, more so because of his stupid, anti-human diet. Maybe Jaebeom will be able to finally convince the pretentious prick to hunt with him after all these years. Or at the very least, drink from a blood bag.

A faint noise that sounds vaguely like footsteps awakens Jaebeom from his shower-thought reverie. He squints through the shower door, trying to see past the curtain of steam. The bathroom is vacant save for the blurred image of his own reflection. Even so, something still proceeds to urk at Jaebeom’s senses, like an itch he can’t scratch.

There’s someone here.

It only takes milliseconds for Jaebeom to corner the figure that sneakily crept inside the shower with him and press them against the tiled wall. A little, feminine giggle emerges from the intruder as the hybrid cages them between his arms and broad chest. His nerves immediately calm at the devious face that stares back at him, instead earning a loud sigh of annoyance.

“You’re lucky I didn’t rip your fucking head off.”

“Mhm. I know how… rough you like to be.”

Jaebeom provides the female an unamused expression. “What are you doing here, Tzuyu?”

“Come on. I know you’re happy to see me.” Tzuyu flashes Jaebeom a radiant smile that resembles one of a temptress. Because of their position underneath the showerhead, her dark brown hair is already soaked. He also quickly realizes that she is just as naked as him. “I can’t just drop by and see my most favorite person in the world?”

“You and I both know that’s a lie.”

Tzuyu smirks. “That you’re my favorite person in the world, or that you’re happy to see me?”

“What do you think?” He begins to pull away from the female vampire, but she stops him with a tight arm around his neck. Before he can blink, Tzuyu’s lips are pressed firmly against his own. Her sweet taste invades his brain like a parasite, and he can’t help but melt into the kiss, hungrily pushing his tongue past the seam of her mouth to find more of her delicacy.

When she pulls back, Jaebeom almost growls. He lowers his hands to tightly grasp her waist before pressing her even further into the wall with his own body. In an effort to make up for the loss, he busies himself by sucking and nibbling along the canvas of her throat. His pride swells when she moans at a particular nip.

“A little eager, aren’t we?” Tzuyu mocks, deviously brushing her knee against Jaebeom’s gradually swelling manhood. His body thrums at the brief contact, quickening his abuse against the patch where her jaw meets her neck.

“You’re the one who interrupted my shower, remember?” He abandons her throat to trail a hand up to her breast, roughly pinching at her taut nipple and smirking at the low groan that bubbles in her chest. “If anyone’s desperate here, it’s you.”

“Touche.” The vampire arches her back more into Jaebeom’s alluring touch. The hybrid welcomes the newfound access, dipping his head down to take one of her buds past his lips. Tzuyu releases a faint whimper before burying her fingers in his wet locks. When she harshly tugs against his scalp, Jaebeom responds with a warning growl.

He detaches from her nipple and chuckles darkly, “We also know that you are the one that likes it rough.”

“Maybe I do.” Tzuyu’s smile is dangerous. “So what’s the big, bad hybrid gonna do with a helpless damsel like me?”

Jaebeom relishes the squeal of surprise that flies from her lips as he lifts her body in the air, tying her legs around his waist with a smirk. “I can think of a couple things…”

Just as soon as the words are spoken, the muffled ring of the doorbell distracts Jaebeom from his lustful rendezvous. He releases a frustrated groan, carefully lowers Tzuyu back to the floor, then shuts off the water. The vampire follows him as he exits the shower, watching intensely as he towels off and slips into a loose pair of sweatpants.

“Stay here.” Jaebeom says before taking off, quickly making his way through his bedroom, downstairs until he reaches the front door. Shaking out his still rather wet hair, he opens the door, prepared to tear apart whoever interrupted his moment.

However, all his anger vanishes into thin air at the visitor on his doorstep.

His eyes widen to saucers. “(Y/N)?”

“Jaebeom.” The animosity along your features falters when you notice his bare chest. You clear your throat before locking your gaze with his own. “How’s Jinyoung?”

Jaebeom’s mood deflates. You’re here for Jinyoung. Not him.

“The worst is over.” He replies truthfully, “He should be back to full health in the next few hours or so.”

“I’m sure he could have been better a lot sooner, but whatever, right?” Jaebeom decides not to drop the fact that he actually did heal Jinyoung. Besides, even if he wanted to, your voice would have beaten him to it, “Anyway, I’m here because I need to know what happened to J…” Confusion invades his veins when your voice suddenly cuts out. He notices your gaze on something over his shoulder, internally cursing himself for already knowing what it is.

“Who’s this pretty, little thing?” Tzuyu sidles up beside Jaebeom, eyeing your speechless form from head to toe. Her hand slithers to lazily rest on his tricep, but the hybrid can spot a symbolism of claim anywhere. And judging by the strange look in your eyes, so can you.

“I thought I told you to stay upstairs.”

“And miss meeting your human pet? How could I ever?”

Jaebeom shoots the vampire a warning look. Tzuyu innocently bats her eyes.

“I was actually just leaving.” You say, tearing Jaebeom’s attention away from his devious companion. He wants to say something further, maybe ask you to stay a little longer, but you’re already tugging your bag further over your shoulder and backing away from the door. “Tell Jinyoung that I hope he feels better, ‘kay?”

Jaebeom shakes his head. “Sure, but (Y/N)—”

You’re already walking away before he has the chance to finish his sentence. Jaebeom watches your form until it disappears inside a car, and even then, he watches the car until it drives past the entrance gate of the estate and out of sight. A strange, empty feeling remains in his chest, as well as the beginnings of annoyance and rage.

Tzuyu leans forward to litter light pecks across his bare shoulder. “Should we… get back to where we left off?”

Jaebeom slams the front door shut with a pound before pushing past the vampire without so much as a response. Tzuyu’s sigh follows him as he makes his way into the living room where he heads straight for the liquor table. He begins to pour himself a drink while Tzuyu situates herself against the doorway. Even with his back to her, he can feel her piercing gaze staring into his soul.

“She seemed nice… (Y/N), was it?”

Jaebeom downs his first glass of bourbon before shaking his head, “Drop it, Tzuyu.”

“So I’m not allowed to learn about your other girlfriends? Though I have to say, I’m surprised you’d ever go for a human.”

“It’s not like that.” He answers, glaring at the pouting vampire from over his shoulder. “She’s a friend of Jinyoung. We’ve only met like twice.”

Tzuyu smiles. This time it doesn’t spark arousal through Jaebeom’s body. It strikes fear.

“I saw the way you looked at her, Beomie… I wasn’t lying when I said she’s a pretty thing.”

Her tone of voice sends warning bells through his chest.

Jaebeom hisses darkly, “Stay the fuck away from her, Tzuyu. I mean it.”

“I would never lay on hand on your fragile human, Beom.” Something about the way her eyes gleam leaves an uneasy feeling stirring through his chest. That, and the way she looks down to check her nails with a sinister smirk. “Though I’m sure it would be so easy to cut out that sweet tongue of her—”

“Tzuyu—”

“Just kidding.” The vampire leaps from her perch against the doorway to steal the drink from Jaebeom’s hand. He watches her warily as she skips toward the window, staring out on the estate courtyards as she sips at the alcohol. Though her back is turned, Jaebeom can practically feel the cogs turning inside her head.

He only hopes she keeps true to her words. For your sake.

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

The purr of the car engine blends with the hum of your cell phone receiver. With each ring that passes, the trees outside the window grow more and more abundant while the hope within your heart only becomes less and less. You sigh when the familiar monotone message clicks across the line. For a moment, you debate on whether or not to leave yet another voicemail… It’s not like she’s answered the dozens you’ve already recorded before.

The little hope that remains outweighs your logic. “Hey. It’s (Y/N) again. I don’t know if you’re not getting my messages or just ignoring me, but… I’m really worried about you, Jihyo.” You bite your lip, readjusting your grip on the steering wheel before steering the vehicle onto another branching, dirt road.

“Sana was really shaken up last night and things are just kind of screwed up right now—for fucksake, Ji, please just pick up your goddamn phone and call me!” You end the call with a lot more force than necessary, tossing your phone into your open bag resting on the passenger’s seat. In order to calm the frustration bubbling through your veins, you focus your attention on the winding road ahead.

After somehow managing to acquire the location of the werewolf pack’s hangout from Bambam, Sana agreed to lend you her car. She needs some time to cope, especially with Momo and Mina’s “sudden disappearance”, so she’s taking the next couple of days away from work at Moon Dye Bay’s local cafe.

You thought it would be wise not to drop the real bomb about her high school friends when she was already wrecked over Jihyo’s walk-out, and while you hate lying… what choice do you have? If you tell Sana the truth, then you’d have to also tell her how and why Momo and Mina died. And with that, you’d have to tell her about the bay’s secret society of witches, werewolves, vampires, etc.

Disgust filters through your body as you’re reminded of your less than awkward visit at the Project Estate. The fact that Jaebeom is able to fuck one out of probably very many of his pretty call-girls while his best friend endures the worst of all sicknesses right down the hall just rubs you all the wrong ways. Maybe that whole speech about his humanity from Jinyoung was one big hoax to get you to feel sorry for him, but you refuse to do so.

You also refuse to linger on how that woman you saw with Jaebeom was one of the most beautiful women you’ve ever seen… and how it settles an uncomfortable pit in the depths of your gut.

At the sight of the cabin, you push all thoughts from mind and maneuver the car to pull up in front of the large residence. It surprises you how abandoned and poorly-taken care of the outside of the cabin is, considering Bam said that everyone in the pack basically lives here. Then again, if one of your closest friends and packmate was killed out of the blue, you wouldn’t care much about appearances either.

After cutting out the engine and grabbing your bag, you exit the vehicle. Bird songs and the buzzing of mosquitoes welcome you as you make your way up to the front door. You almost trip over a loose board on the cabin’s wraparound deck, but you manage to catch yourself before you slam nose first into the wooden ground. Just as you’re about to lift your hand and rap your knuckles against the door, a familiar voice seizes your attention:

“(Y/N)? Is that you?” Dahyun emerges from around the side of the cabin, carrying a homemade, woven basket full of wet laundry. With a hand on her hip and a raise of her eyebrow, she continues, “You’re the last person I expected to see today… Did Mark send you?”

“No, no.” You shake your head, “I was actually hoping to talk to Chan, or maybe Yugyeom about something?”

Dahyun offers a sympathetic smile. “Sorry, hun. Everyone’s out today except me and some of the youngsters.” She pauses to support the basket against her hip. “Is there anything I can help you with? If you’d like, we can talk while I take care of these clothes?”

“That would be great actually.” You agree, returning Dahyun’s bright smile with a weak grin of your own. The werewolf nods and gestures for you to follow her with her free hand, which you do so without any complaint.

Once you turn the corner, your jaw almost drops at the sight of the backyard. Unlike the front of the cabin, which looks so unkempt and depressing, the back is the total opposite. It almost reminds you of a mini oasis, with the tiny pond full of flowered lily pads and the bushes of vivid, flourishing roses. Twinkling fairy lights hang from branches of trees, and you can only imagine how pretty it would appear at night.

You and Dahyun pass a couple of other strangers playing Uno at one of the few picnic tables stationed around the massive yard. One of them, a young dirty-blonde teen, looks up as you walk by and offers a kind smile, which you can’t resist to return.

Dahyun hums, “That’s Felix. Chan’s little brother.”

“Really? I didn’t know he had a brother.”

You take a seat on a mossy tree stump, watching as Dahyun sets down her basket and begins to hang the wet laundry along an already prepared clothesline. After staring for a few moments, you climb back to your feet and move to help the werewolf.

She grants you a grateful smile and shrugs, “Most don’t. Felix hasn’t triggered his gene yet.”

“His gene?” You repeat, pinning a large, black T-shirt onto the line.

“Oh right. You probably don’t know much about wolves yet.” Dahyun peels open a moist towel and continues, “Basically, we’re born with this gene that has to be ‘triggered’ in order for us to activate our werewolf abilities.”

“So the whole werewolf bite or scratch thing is a myth?”

“One hundred percent bullshit.” She laughs.

You chuckle as well, before inquiring further, “How do you trigger it?”

Dahyun’s laughter immediately cuts out. Thinking you said something wrong, you open your mouth to reconcile, but the wolf beats you to it. Her tone nowhere near as light-hearted as before:

“You have to… kill someone.”

Your stomach twists, butterflies of revulsion fluttering all the way up to your chest. You notice how Dahyun no longer tries to meet your eyes, instead fully investing her attention in wringing out the dripping wet mass of fabric before pinning the corners to the line.

“It’s usually an accident for most of us though.” She shrugs with a faraway expression, “Sometimes we just lose control of our emotions and things get out of hand… then somebody ends up dead, and you turn the next full moon. Whether you meant to or not.”

You reach over to place a comforting hand on her elbow. “I’m so sorry… That sounds horrible.”

“It’s just the world we live in.” Dahyun seems to snap out of her traumatized state and throws a slightly awkward smile in your direction, “Anyway, once your gene is triggered, you turn into a wolf every full moon for the rest of your life.”

“Do you have control when you turn?”

“Not exactly. Our werewolf form is like a totally different part of us.”

You nod in understanding. At her guidance, you begin to take down the clothes that had dried beforehand while she finishes hanging the last of the remaining laundry. Once the last garment is pinned to the clothesline, the werewolf takes a seat in the grass and moves to begin folding the dry batch. You do the same.

“Now with all that aside, what was it that you wanted to talk about?”

“Oh. Right.” You bite your lip, trying to come up with the best way to bring up a dead Jackson without striking a personal chord. After a moment of silence, Dahyun must notice your apprehension, as she drops the socks in her hands and leans forward to lightly pat at your calf with a patient smile.

Her kind facial expression alone is enough to evoke a slight wave of bravery from your soul:

“Well, I was wondering about… Jackson Wang.” You say carefully, keeping your eyes on Dahyun’s gradually faltering smile.

The werewolf leans back from you with a heavy sigh before releasing a soft chuckle, “It’s been a while since I’ve heard that name. Though I’m a little surprised… I thought Mark would have told you all about Jackson by now.”

You shake your head.

“Jackson was our first Alpha, before Chan took over. All of this actually belonged to his family—” She pauses to gesture to the cabin. “—but after his parents found out he triggered his curse, they gave it to him so he could have somewhere to get away. Eventually it became a sanctuary for the werewolves of Moon Dye Bay.”

“Mark told me Jackson was his best friend…”

Dahyun nods. “Ever since high school. Mark helped Jackson when he turned the first time, and Jackson was there for Mark when his mother died.”

Your heart warms at the thought of Mark having such a close, supportive relationship with someone. However, that same feeling falters when you remember Jackson’s mysterious, tragic death.

“So how did he die?” You ask quietly, peering over Dahyun’s shoulder to check the state of the other inhabitants in the backyard. Felix and his other friends are still engaged in their rather intense card game and are paying no mind to you nor Dahyun. The information lessens your anxiety, though only slightly.

You return your focus to your companion when she tosses a wrinkled shirt back inside the basket with a bitter glare. “The Primes killed him.”

“But why?” Dahyun turns at your inquiry. “There had to have been a reason? Right?”

“When the Primes first came back to town, about four years ago, Mark and Jackson came up with a plan to try to kill their ancient asses once and for all.”

“How? They’re invincible?”

“Mark was going to gather enough power to break the immortality curse that makes them untouchable.” She answers, “Once Mark took out their safeguard, Jackson would drive a stake through each of their hearts.”

You frown. “I’m guessing that didn’t go as planned?”

“Mark couldn’t get the magic in time, but Jackson was never one to back down from a fight.”

“What do you mean?”

Dahyun rolls her eyes. “Jackson was one of the best people I will ever know, but his ambition always went to that big-ass head of his. That night, he was going to kill the Prime Two or he was going to die trying…”

“So you’re saying it was… his fault he died?”

“Yes and no.” She hums with a shrug. “Like I said, Jackson was always that ride or die kind of person. He was passionate and driven, but he was also reckless and stubborn.”

You furrow your brow before leaning back on your palms. Puzzle pieces are slowly starting to fit together, especially concerning Mark and why he blames himself for Jackson’s death, but what doesn’t make sense is why Jackson died in the first place? If Jaebeom and Jinyoung couldn’t be killed then, and still can’t be killed now, what threat is a brash, pig-headed werewolf?... And why would Jackson be so driven to kill the Primes that he’d give up his own life doing so?

Before you can spill your concerns to the waiting werewolf, the buzz of your phone seizes your attention. You retract the device from your bag to check the text message, finding a thread of new messages from Sana, one of which asking when you’re going to return to the apartment. You shoot her a quick answer with a promise to also pick up some dinner before you turn back to Dahyun.

“I should probably get going. I have a couple errands to run before the sun goes down.”

She rises to her feet in synchronization with you. “Of course. I hope I helped at least a little.”

“You helped so much, Dahyun. Really. Thank you.”

“I’m glad.” The werewolf smiles. “It was really nice to see and talk to you, (Y/N). If you need anything else, please don’t hesitate to come visit me again.”

“I appreciate that more than you could know.” You lean in to give Dahyun a quick, easy hug before walking with her back toward the front of the cabin. In the midst of approaching Sana’s car, your mind shifts back to another important, yet crazy thought that occurred to you while in conversation with Jackson last night. Without thinking about the consequences, you pause and ask Dahyun one final question:

“Is it… possible to bring someone back from the dead?”

Judging by her tense shoulders and bewildered expression, your abrupt inquiry takes Dahyun by surprise. She merely stares at you with saucer-like eyes and parted lips for a moment, until she seems to regain her composure.

Even then, her words are muddled and full of confusion. “I-I mean, I don’t know anything about witchcraft myself, b-but I think so?” She narrows her eyes. “...Why?”

“Just wondering.” You play off her curiosity by pulling your keys from your bag and opening the driver’s door. With a weak smile and a nod, you bid the werewolf farewell. “Thanks again. I’ll see you around.”

You don’t wait for Dahyun’s response, too worried that she might somehow pick up on the plan slowly building inside your head. Without a second to spare, you switch on the engine, put the vehicle in proper gear and back out of the cabin’s driveway. Dahyun watches from the deck, and though you’re distant from one another, you can feel the intensity of her stare as you maneuver back onto the dirt, forest roads.

Once you’re a decent distance from the cabin, you find your cell phone, pull up a specific contact and balance the device on your shoulder. The line picks up after two rings, and you don’t wait for the usual chime of a greeting. Not when you’re so deep into everything now.

“Bam, I need everything you have on necromancy.” You say into the phone, squeezing the leather cover of the steering wheel in a mixture of anticipation and excitement. “And I also need you to promise not to say a word about this to anyone… Not even Yugyeom.”

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

Changbin is fuming. Absolutely fuming.

It feels like his entire body is made of electricity, coursing through his veins and boiling his blood red-hot. He can’t control the trembling of his hands. Not even when he stuffs them inside the pocket of his hoodie. The urge to break something is strong, but Changbin doesn’t want to break just anything… No—he wants to break someone. Hurt someone.

There was once a time he would have never thought these words. Then again, that was before the Primes came to town, and before Jackson was murdered. Everything changed after that. Everyone changed. When the pretentious, youngest asshole of a bloodsucker showed up to reveal that Jackson’s body couldn’t even be handed over, no one put up a fight. No one stood up for their Alpha. Life just went on, as if nothing had changed.

A hiss sounds through Changbin’s gritted teeth as he thinks back to his most recent argument with Chan and Yugyeom. Neither of them even cared when he told them that Dahyun was the one who came at him first. They didn’t listen… but why would they? Changbin is just the runt with the anger issues, right? Why would anything he have to say matter? Why should they give a damn about his perspective… about his pain?

No one understands how much Changbin misses Jackson, nor do they understand how much anger it brings him that his legacy still goes unavenged. For fucksake, no one is brave enough to say his goddamn name aloud anymore. And even when he’s mentioned, everyone pretends as if there isn’t one giant ass elephant in the room. It makes him sick. Furious.

Changbin is suddenly awoken from his racing thoughts when his shoulder slams into the body of another walking pedestrian. He reels around and regards the hooded stranger with a deep growl, “Watch where you’re fucking going, asshole! Unless you want me to break your fucking arm!”

“That won’t be necessary.” Changbin watches, unamused, as the stranger removes his jacket hood. His face is familiar, he realizes. Changbin feels his anger grow tenfold.

He pulls back his own tattered hood with another growl, “You better have a good fucking reason to be lurking in our territory, witch.”

“I came to talk to you.” The witch remains unphased by the wolf’s aggression, even when the latter stalks closer and closer to his lean form. “I think you’ll like what I have to say.”

“Oh yeah?” Although the male is slightly taller than him, Changbin doesn’t hesitate to get up in his face. “And what makes you think that?”

The witch doesn’t pull away, but merely shrugs. “Because we both want the same thing… Revenge.”

Changbin’s ears perk at that single word. His ferocity falters, prompting him to create distance between his and his companion’s bodies. After tucking his hands back inside his pockets, he doesn’t say a word, but nods for the former to continue.

The witch smirks.

“What would you say if there was a possibility to destroy the Prime Two?”

“I’d say you’re crazy.” The wolf bites his lips, “...but I’d also say I’m the slightest bit interested.”

“And if I told you there was also a possibility of hurting Mark Tuan in the process?”

This time, a mirroring smirk pulls along Changbin’s lips.

“I’d say I’m in.”

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

“Are you sure I don’t need to come over there?”

Youngjae rolls his eyes at Mark’s concerned tone, adjusting the phone on his shoulder to better his grip on the thick grimoire in his hands. “No, hyung. Jisung and Lia left hours ago, so it’s just me.”

“I can help you out.”

“I really don’t think I need your help for a plant revival spell.” He glances toward the array of wilting flowers and herbs, before releasing a chuckle into the phone. “Seriously, hyung. Take the time to rest… You had a long day yesterday.”

He can almost see Mark shaking his head over the line. “Trust me, I’m very well-rested. I slept close to sixteen hours last night.”

“Then sleep another sixteen. Satan knows you need it.”

Youngjae sets the grimoire down on the countertop beside a yellowing, potted basil. He lays his hand over the ancient book, feeling the electric rush of magic entering his body through his palm. Once he gathers a satisfactory amount, he removes his hand and instead points toward the dying plant.

“I just… hate not being productive, you know?”

Youngjae watches the leaves of the basil gradually lighten and shift from rotted to fresh, finally answering when the plant stands tall, proud and very, very green:

“You need to give yourself time, Mark-hyung. That’s the most productive thing you can do right now.”

“I… I guess you’re right.” Mark sighs, and even through the phone, Youngjae can pinpoint his friend’s exhaustion. He hums in response and turns to revive a drooping sunflower, making note to move the plant to a perch where it can reach the sunlight.

“By the way, have you heard from (Y/N)?”

“No. Not since last night.” Youngjae answers.

“I texted her this morning and this afternoon, but she hasn’t texted me back.” The siphoner doesn’t respond, focusing on ripening the cherries of the sick miniature fruit tree. “Jihyo apparently left town last night… You don’t think that’s something to be concerned about, right?”

Youngjae shakes his head. “She was probably spooked by an ex-boyfriend or something. And I’m sure (Y/N) is busy at the university. You know how hard she works.”

“Yeah, I know. I just wish she would at least text me back.”

“She probably needs time to process too, hyung.” He reasons with the head witch, glancing toward the front of the mausoleum when the knock sounds from the door. “I gotta go, but I’ll let you know if I hear anything.”

Mark hums in agreement. “Thanks, Youngjae.”

“Mhm. Get some more sleep.” Knowing Mark would retaliate with his command, Youngjae hangs up the phone before he can respond. The siphoner mumbles a quick illusion spell to hide any evidence of witchcraft to the mortal eye, then heads toward the front door, unsure of who would be visiting the mausoleum this late in the evening.

Who Youngjae certainly doesn’t expect to see behind the door is you, standing outside with a large mass of books cradled within your arms.

Youngjae’s eyes widen when he notices one of the titles of the books, as well as the flames of determination burning inside your eyes. He parts his lips to inquire further, but you beat him to it… and your words nearly knock all the air from his lungs:

“I need your help to bring Jackson Wang back from the dead.”

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vs-redemption · 4 years ago

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who are your favorite top ten black clover characters & ships? talk about them! ~tat!

From Cindy: Hello tat! I hope you are doing well today and thank you for visiting my blog. It was really fun to write this because I got the chance to really think about the characters in depth. I’ll be honest, I’m not much of a shipper so I couldn’t come up with 10. I did my best to think of and write about as many ships and brotps as I could though.

Also, I got your other ask about BNHA as well! I have a Japanese lesson I need to prepare for this evening, but I’ll definitely get that posted tomorrow sometime!! Thanks again!!

This is very long, so I put it under a cut :)

Top Ten Black Clover Characters

Yami Sukehiro

I love everything about this guy. He’s hilarious, number one. Everything he says cracks me up and the nicknames he uses for people are gold. I like that he insults people and makes toilet jokes so casually. He comes off crass, but it’s the fact that he treats everyone equally that makes me respect him so much. He holds everyone, including himself, to the same standards. He doesn’t care about your past, wealth, appearance, gender, unconventional magic abilities or wacky personality. No matter who you are, he will call you out if you’re not acting the way you should, but will also back you up and support you when it’s needed. He’s a great leader because he treats everyone equally and is also very accepting that everyone is different.

Luck Voltia

Luck was one of the first characters I fell in love with. I don’t have a lot deep meaning behind how I feel like I do with Yami though. I just really enjoy his chaotic energy and the fact that he wants to fight people all the time. I also think his magic is super badass. His little lightning boots and gloves are so cute. I just wanna cuddle him and ruffle his hair.

Finral Roulacase

I feel so bad for Finral. This poor love starved boy doesn’t deserve the heaping amounts of anxiety he always seems to be feeling. I know he’s supposed to be the ‘perverted’ character, but compared to characters from other anime (Mineta [BNHA] Meliodas [SDS]) he’s not that bad. He tries so hard to be a gentleman by taking people on dates, complimenting them, giving them flowers, and not physically molesting them lol but they never give him a second glance. I also love his character growth so far. Watching him find self-worth beyond being just a mode of transportation, and confidence enough to stand up to his brother has been really fun to watch. I’m so proud of him and I think he’s amazing!

Zora Ideale

This guy. Haha His blunt honesty is so uncomfortable but hilarious at the same time. Like Yami, he calls people out but is somehow so much more offensive about it. I love how he just gives people unsolicited criticism and then adds injury to insult like “oh by the way, here’s a freaking stink bug in your nostril.” To be fair though, he is just as harsh on himself and will acknowledge (to himself) when he made a mistake. His backstory is also so tragic! It is seriously messed up what happened to his dad, but I love that Zora uses that trauma to try and change the word for the better by being the best magic knight he can be and also encouraging (threatening?) other magic knights to be better too. He could’ve so easily become a villain, but he didn’t and I think that’s really honorable.

Mereoleona Vermillion

Oh my god. I love this woman so much. The fact that she was supposed to be the captain of the Crimson Lions but said “nope” and then just went off by herself to live in the most dangerous places in the wild to get stronger is just phenomenal to me. I also really like that, even though she’s a royal and a member of the Vermillion family, she doesn’t just focus on her own squad. It was great when she showed up at the Black Bulls hide out and straight up kidnapped them to have them join her training. I’m just in awe of both her physical and mental strength. She was so cool when she went up against all those elves by herself. I’m not caught up with the manga, but I think I saw a spoiler about her recently and I’m very excited to find out more about it. I pretty much wish I was Mereoleona. She is my spirit animal.

Charmy Pappitson

There is a lot to adore about Charmy. First and foremost, she is an adorable badass. I love that her passion for food is something she shares with her allies and friends instead of being something that makes her greedy. I feel like Charmy is underrated because her magic is great for restoring mana, defense and offense. Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t she one of the highest ranked knights in the black bulls? I also love how she gets away with a lot of shit just because she’s cute. The episodes where she straight up just hops onto the wizard king’s lap and feeds him snacks without anyone batting an eye get me every time!

Vanessa Enoteca

Sometimes I think about how Vanessa was willing to give up her own freedom just to save Asta’s arms, and how she gave up drinking for a few episodes in order to focus on a way to not only make herself stronger for upcoming battles, but the rest of her teammates as well. I like her dedication to the Black Bulls. Her thread magic is also pretty cool and I like the clever ways she’s learned to use it.

Fuegoleon Vermillion

Poor Fuegoleon is so calm and sensible compared to his siblings. I like that he’s a fair leader that makes sure to consider all angles before passing judgement on someone. He is also a dependable captain and full of great wisdom that aids in character development for important characters like Asta and Noelle. I love how he competes with his sister though, and watching them bicker in the episode where they throw a birthday party for that nun lady was silly.

Asta

How can you not like Asta? He has such a big heart and the best self-discipline out of anyone in the show. He would always rather talk things out before resorting to fighting and likes to understand the motivations behind the actions of his enemies. He is unashamed to be himself and continues to pursue his goals even when other people mock him or put him down. I also like that he is more perceptive of how people think or feel than it would seem sometimes.

Sekke Bronzazza

His personality is pretty much the worst (and I think he actually tried to kill Asta after the magic knight exam… asshole) but the way he always manages to fit “ha-ha” into his speech is so funny to me and always cracks me up. And the way everyone calls him the “ha-ha” guy is very amusing to me, especially when he tries and fails to politely correct them. I also love how he always ends up in the most random situations (in Yami’s bathroom or working for the king).

Top Ten Black Clover Ships/BroTPs

Finral x Vanessa

I guess I just think back to that fight against the Despair guy from the Third Eye because both Finral and Venessa sort of worked together and pushed past their limits for the first time. I think Venessa is also the one that put the green in Finral’s hair, right? I don’t know. Venessa is good for Finral because he’s so insecure and she’s so supportive of other people. They’re cute together.

Yami x Charlotte

I think everyone ships this? lol Charlotte’s independence and personal strength are important to her, and the fact that Yami acknowledges and respects those traits in her makes them a great match. He also constantly encourages her to show her softer side, saying that it’s okay to lean on other people and ask for help. He could help her find balance and be comfortable in her own skin.

Asta x Mimosa

Mimosa is a much better match for Asta than Noelle because Noelle constantly needs validation and attention that she’s just never going to get from Asta. His brain just doesn’t work that way. Mimosa is content with supporting Asta with her magic as best she can, and doesn’t get jealous or competitive in the way Noelle does. Mimosa is soft and gentle which is a nice contrast to Asta’s loud and rough personality.

Yuno x Charmy

I know this is almost like a crack ship, but I can’t help but like it anyway. Like Asta, Yuno isn’t going to be the type of guy to actively pursue a relationship or be overly affectionate. This doesn’t seem to affect Charmy who seems fine with even the most minimal of interaction haha. I think it’s so cute how much she supports and roots for him when she sees him in a fight. And Yuno doesn’t seem to mind her trying to feed him and take care of him either.

Magna x Luck (brotp)

Lucky’s personality is quirky, chaotic, and frankly just difficult to understand, so I think it’s hard for people to get close to him. He comes on so strong with the pranks and desire to fight, plus he doesn’t really know how to hold back. The fact that Magna can endure all that while also seeing Luck as a person on a deeper level than just being some spazzy boy is really wholesome to me. I think it’s good for Luck to have someone who can respect him that way without asking him to change his behavior. I do not think this would work romantically though. Magna is actually pretty sensitive and emotional, and gets pretty upset when Luck is stronger or does better than him in something. It ultimately just drives Magna to work harder, but I think that sort of competition might be bad news in a romantic relationship if he’s always feeling inferior.

Yami x Jack the Ripper (brotp)

I want their friendship! I really do. The way they go from relaxed and having fun to ready to beat each other’s asses is hilarious. And there’s literally no reason for it, they’re just like unnecessarily competitive and I’m living for it. Whether they’re celebrating at a festival, about to have an important meeting with the wizard king, or in the middle of a huge fight with a major bad guy, it doesn’t matter. They will trash talk each other and probably end up brawling. I love it.

Gauche x Grey

The episodes where Gauche had to fight with Gordon and Grey were really cool because those three are probably the oddest oddballs of the Black Bulls. I don’t know if I ship them romantically or just at friends, but the development of the relationship between Gauche and Grey has been interesting and I wouldn’t mind seeing more. Also, please give Gauche something else to obsess over besides his sister lmao

Mars x Fana

I don’t have any strong feelings for them as characters individually, but I like that they fought so hard to protect each other as kids and how they continued to fight for and protect each other after being reunited.

#Tat anon #chat with cindy #black clover #black clover ships #yami sukehiro #luck voltia #finral roulacase #zora ideale #mereoleona vermillion #Charmy Pappitson

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3w-writer-with-wings · 4 years ago

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Next Yu-Gi-Oh! Crossover – Bonds Beyond Worlds

With so many ideas about what Yu-Gi-Oh! 7 will be about, I wanted ZEXAL/ARC V/VRAINS crossover continuation the most. I’ve already discussed this before Yu-Gi-Oh! Sevens was announced (here it is if you’re interested https://3w-writer-with-wings.tumblr.com/post/189629945740/next-yu-gi-oh-anime-new-series-or-a-crossover ) and despite new series, I’m still hopeful we will be getting a movie at least. Well, even if we aren’t getting it, I’ll write it down anyway. Only once Yuma, Astral, Yu-boys, Bracelet Girls, Yusaku and Ai get a happy conclusive ending will my soul be able to rest.

Still please don’t hate on SEVENS! It’s a nice and funny show and Yuga is a precious little inventor who doesn’t deserve all the hate.

Main cast

So the main cast will be definitely made of the main protagonists aka. Yuma, Yuya and Yusaku and their partner characters aka. Astral, other Yu-boys and Ai. I also want to include Bracelet Girls since they are very closely connected to Yu-boys, though not directly, more like they have a separate, but just as important mission, maybe they even team up with Rio (since she has psychic-like abilities) and Aoi (who learns about world connection from her brother and wishes to help). If it will possible I’ll also include rivals – though more like supporting characters, the same way Signers and professor Banner were used in the movie. For everyone else it would be more or less just minor roles, but still important enough to contribute to the story (Kaito and Arclight brothers guide Yuma through different worlds, Reiji and Yusho investigate strange occurrences in Arc V and Akira, Kusanagi and Ryouken try to find out where Yusaku went and how to help him). Overall, I wouldn’t include too many characters since I really want to give them meaningful roles.

How it will connect the series?

VRAINS ends with a surprising findings uncovered by Akira – VRAINS got connected to many different worlds and Yusaku is on his way to unknown part of VRAINS in order to find Ai. While first crossover was connected by time (hence the title Bonds Beyond Time), this crossover will be connected by space. First crossover already made a big deal out of time (Atem was an ancient spirit from past and had to travel back in time to regain memories in order to rest in peace, Judai was a reincarnation of a Supreme King and Yusei fought against time-travelling cyborg from the future) and was therefore connected by time, with Yusei using Crimson Dragon to travel to past in order to stop Paradox from destroying it. This time, the new trio of protagonists will have to travel through space in order to meet. Since VRAINS ended so abruptly, with Yusaku travelling towards unknown part of network, this would be the most perfect point to start this new journey. If that part of VRAINS network somehow got connected to another world or more like a dimension, this is how Yusaku finds himself in ARC V dimension after the events of the fifth series – sometime after the four dimensions merged into one again. Yuya and Yuzu get used to their counterparts living in their bodies and Yuya is yet to defeat Yusho at that point.

Goals

In a way all three series share the same theme of protecting the world and changing it in order to save the ones they love, but with each series, less can be done to save it. Yuma used Numeron Code to save the friends he lost, prevented the destruction of Barian world and turned Barian Emperors back in humans. Yuya managed to seal Zarc’s soul in Reira and get Yuzu back and joined all dimensions into one, but he couldn’t save other Yu-boys and Bracelet Girls. Yusaku was unable to save Ai as Ai was never meant to co-exist with humanity. Therefore I believe this chain of events is in a way connected with Numeron Code – with such drastic change in Astral World and Barian World, the change must’ve affected Original Dimension in ARC V and Dr. Kogami must’ve had a reason to create Ignis (in the most far-fetched logic I believe the change awakened Zarc’s rage and convinced Dr. Kogami that the world is ending and humanity needs an immortal successor). Yuma could also feel guilty and selfish to activate Numeron Code, thinking he might’ve been wrong after all and that caused all the suffering Yuya, Yuzu, their counterparts and Yusaku have been through.

But at the same time this doesn’t mean they should just give up Numeron Code to fix everything and rather look for a different way, considering how much damage it has already caused. Maybe the antagonist wishes to have Numeron Code and their first goal is to destroy it or seal it for good and at the same time deal with the fact that it could bring Ai, Yu-Boys and Bracelet Girls back. Yusaku and Yuya don’t blame Yuma one bit and they both ensure him that their friends are still there, they just need to find another way to bring them back home. At one point they will be back either before the climax or during the climax (Yu-boys are pretty much already in Yuya, but it could be that they gain their bodies at the crucial moment when they are protecting Yuya). It would be interesting if Ai actually knew Yusaku was looking for him but was too scared to face him, thinking he’ll lose him (maybe Astral helps him get over it and during the moment where Yusaku is in danger, Ai comes back in a similar fashion as he did during his duel with Ryouken).

Antagonist(s)

It doesn’t necessary need an antagonist, considering the goals the main trio has is already challenging enough, though it would be interesting to have another antagonist. Rather than having a one that thinks they are doing the right thing but are ultimately making everything worse or a character that is outright evil. I prefer to use a very calculating antagonist who has a good reason behind his actions and truly presents a challenge for the new trio. Antagonist like Z-ONE from 5Ds would nicely fit in this story, but like I said, it doesn’t really need an antagonist. It will be also interesting to include a secondary antagonist or antagonists’ right hand against the girl squad. Since I plan to include Numeron Code (I mean it is a literal Infinity Gauntlet, why the hell not?) the main antagonist’s motivation could be something with rewriting reality and space all over again since Yuma and Astral greatly changed it since the end of ZEXAL. The Bracelet girls also have a connection to Ray and En cards that are also a rather powerful element so there would be no need to include more powerful elements, prophecies or ancient grudges against the protagonist trio.

This might be a bit far-fetched idea too, but I think it would really interesting to use Yusho as antagonist. Not in a willing way of course, just that someone possesses him and through him challenges the new trio to a duel that decides all. A certain fanfic writer has (Frost190 in “Bonds of Pendulum”) already written down the most amazing duel between Yuya and Yusho that fit into the canon story so well that it made me think just what missed opportunity that duel was. Even though ARC V both starts and ends with Yuya’s vow to defeat his father one day, he never really duels him (though considering Yuri was able to defeat him and Yuya defeated Yuri, he could potentially defeat Yusho as well). Then there’s the fact that Yusho and Yuya haven’t really talked things through face to face yet. While it is clear that Yusho had to leave in order to stop Leo, he left right on the day he was supposed to have this big match. He knew Leo was up to no good, but really, really why he decided to leave on that day? He could’ve at least post-phone that match or be done with it in like an hour or so and then leave. This one thing has bothered me for as long as I can remember and that fact that they never point it out is that more frustrating besides the fact that Leo was magically excused of all horrible things he did. Yusho as antagonist (controlled of course, but using Yuya’s and Yusho’s memories to try to manipulate others) would work very well for Yuma and Yusaku too since Yuma also had to deal with the loss of his father and to Yusaku, Yusho could look like Dr. Kogami – a man who traumatized him for life.

Climax

Like in Bonds Beyond Time, a big duel with protagonists against antagonist is expected to be the main battle of the movie, I would like to spice it up a bit or use entirely different climax scene. I mentioned before that I would love to see Bracelet Girls in action, so what if they get a seperate mission or another antagonist to fight and this is how they find a way to get their own bodies. With this info they have to reach Yu-boys and let them know how to separate them, though again there could be some trouble or something is happening due to disturbance in dimensions and they have to protect people in them. It would be really interesting if they were the trump card or if they would show up at that one moment when they would needed it the most. Another reason of why I want to include them so much is also because only the powers of Yuzu’s bracelet have been partially explained and considering Ray literally split a whole dimension and a demon in four, they must’ve been nearly as powerful as Numeron Code.

I would also love to expose the new trio of protagonists to their worst fears, showing their pieces of vulnerability there. Yuma could relive his duel with III and all the times he lost Astral and his friends. Yuya could go through the time his father was missing and when he hurt innocent people in berserk form. (In a way I would also love to see Zarc and Ray have a role, at least to guide him and encourage him to not to give up.) Yusaku might expect the trauma from Lost Incident, but it turns out to be the fear of truly losing Ai. Another important challenge would be probably temptation to use Numeron Code for their own interests like maybe it could rewrite Yusaku’s life with Lost Incident never happening, but erase all of Yuma’s friends who got revived. Maybe it could bring counterparts back but cause major disturbance in Den City. Overall I wouldn’t go there too much since I know well that Yuma, Yuya and Yusaku are one of the most selfless people and if anything, they would be fine with giving up on their desire for greater good.

Another important climax (in case I go with it), is Numeron Code. With such insane power of literal creation and destruction it could be again connected to ARC V, with the whole theme of Heavenly Dragons and En Powers. Similar themes also appeared in VRAINS, especially regarding the creation and destruction of life. It could also be that protagonists will be struggling with how to use it correctly or if they should use it in the first place. Another solution is also permanent destruction, but again, protagonists aren’t sure how will this affect dimensions and timelines.

In all ways, climax will be epic and will join all the build up, struggles, fears and action in one scene.

Interactions of those who never met

This crossover will be able to provide a lot of scenes and interactions between characters of those three series. Yuya, Yuma and Yusaku have surprisingly a lot in common, especially their experiences when dealing with loss and fears. For some reason I’m actually seeing Yusaku opening up to them since they could strangely remind him of Ai and that was pretty much the only person besides Kusanagi that Yusaku trusted enough to share his fears. It would be also refreshing for Yusaku to see duelling as fun (I really hoped that would be the case when he duelled Go for the first time) and befriending more people like Ai told him to. Astral and Ai could also share a scene where they are talking about their human partners and the time once their partners will be gone since they are both sort of immortal beings. I strongly believe one of the reasons why Ai sacrificed himself for Yusaku was not only because he saw a future where Yusaku dies protecting him but because he knew Yusaku won’t live forever like him and he couldn’t handle being all alone without Yusaku or other Ignis. Astral who has been alone for thousands of years before meeting Yuma could teach him how to cherish the time with his partner that he still has.

Conclusion

Like I mentioned it in the beginning – this would more or less be fix-it story. While I’m okay with ZEXAL ending (better than the one in manga at least), ARC V and VRAINS are in dire need for a better ending so overall, the ending conclusion will give the three series a much more conclusive ending. While I love to write a good angst and bitter sweetness for the end, I do no plan to end it this way (especially after binge watching two anime series in a row that had bitter-sweet but hella sad endings). This will have to be a feel-good ending with cheese on top or at least hopeful feel. I’m aiming for similar conclusion as Bonds Beyond Time, with three protagonists parting ways in hopes that they did the right thing and that they can return back to the worlds that they no longer need to fear they will break.

The endgame will be obviously with Yu-boys coming back, Ai reuniting with Yusaku and Numeron Code being sealed away or if possible destroyed. If I’m going with “Yuma screwed up ARC V and VRAINS with Numeron Code” way, then I’ll really need to find a good reason to get rid of it or at least find a logical way how. Also he will be dealing with massive guilt and responsibility so maybe… Yuma might go Iron Man with it and others will need to stop him (that might lead to a secondary final duel or more like rescue duel, kinda mirroring final duel between Yusaku and Ai).

So yeah there will be a lot of conclusions to go through, especially if I include original antagonists, though I’m not that sure about it yet.

If anyone has any other ideas, suggestions, theories or anything else related to this topic, feel free to leave it below or PM me. I would love to hear your thoughts on this idea and it will really help me gather more ideas and material for this project that I would really love to write, not just for myself but for all other members of Yu-Gi-Oh! fandom as well.

#yugio series #vrains #yugioh arc v #yugioh zexal #Bonds Beyond Time #bonds beyond worlds #really excited about this #it has so much potential #fanfiction writing #yugioh crossover

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ninjakitty15 · 3 years ago

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Chapter 22: Deader is Better (Loki x OFC Pairing)

It was exactly one day before the greatest holiday of all time, and not just because I was the most powerful I'd ever be that year. The streets were packed with people, every parking lot was booked solid, every parking space even, residents were even renting out some of their spaces for pocket money. Loki and I helped out Zari with her little store in exchange for letting us crash at her place, Loki was both surprised and delighted by how accepting people were of him even after asking if he was who he was. I explained to him that while the country as a whole has a longass way before it can be completely progressive and welcoming, Salem, being one of the first historical places here that destroyed itself in fear and intolerance, was probably the first to turn that around. It went from burning, hanging, crushing, and torturing people that were considered different and therefore dangerous to welcoming the different and weird as one of their own. No one even cared he took over New York, what they saw was an alien army attacking the city and a god that brought a bunch of heroes together to stop them.

"If Asgard were still around, I wish it had a city like this, celebrating magic and welcoming the weird as you'd say," mused Loki.

"Isn't there a realm entirely like that? Where the Light Elves live?"

"Look at you, trying to learn my culture," he teased. "It was where my mother learned magic and passed it onto me, yes. But we didn't go there often enough for me to call it another home. Most of the time, if we went anywhere it was to beat the natives into submission thanks entirely to Thor."

"For all the advancements your people had on us, the technology, the magic, the fuckton more years in a lifespan, you're not that far off in some idealogies from us. Rarely does peaceful methods end a dispute between peoples. Oh sure, there's been tons of times we tried that, it rarely works in our favor though. Peaceful rallies or marches are usually ended with police brutality they claim is the right way even when they're throwing tear gas grenades at unarmed civilians, tazing random protesters they later claim as dangerous, or just blasting them with high pressured firemen hoses. It always ends badly, with injuries, false claims, and injustice. I'd seriously love to meet Odin just to tell him he ain't special."

Loki smiled at this and kissing the top of my head. "I shouldn't be proud of you despising him like I did, but I am anyway. I am glad you met my mother in some form though, I had a feeling she'd like you."

"She told me to trust you and that in doing so, you'd stay with me as no one else besides Thor if even that, has trusted you since you came here indefinitely. A lonely existence that is, everyone keeping you at arms length. I can understand that, outside of Salem, skin color alone is an excuse not to trust someone, people see someone that looks like they're past their expiration date like me and they go running. Hell, even hair color or skin ink can keep you from getting jobs here, we're still an extremely regressive country. Not worth saving anytime soon."

"Then why bother?"

"Because unfortunately I'm one of the idiots inhabiting it with no way to some place better."

"I asked Thor why he fought so hard to protect this speck of a planet once, don't recall him giving me a good answer but yours shall suffice, if nothing else, because you're part of it."

"Whoa, hold your eight legged horses, you really don't need to do that...at all. Just find a way out of here if we can't at least save this city, the Avengers can handle this planet and if they can't...well at least they tried right? We don't need to get involved when neither of us signed any kind of hero contract like they did."

"You sure?"

"I'm not just sure...I'm HIV positive."

"You'd have to be alive to contract that disease and I'm not quite sure it would transmit to something already dead."

I opened my mouth to retaliate but something else stayed my tongue for a moment, something felt wrong, unnatural even. "Listen...do you smell that?" I asked curiously. Loki didn't get a chance to answer as a great surge of necro-power struck me full force and I was sent flying back several feet away, breaking several trees of the park we were enjoying till then along the way before my back slammed against a particularly thick one and I stopped flying. A dull pain exploded from my chest mere inches from where the stone was protecting my important bits and cool black blood lightly dripped from my lips. I looked down at where the pain came from and blinked in surprise.

"Oh look I've been impaled," I mused before breaking off the branch sticking out of my body and stepped away from the tree behind me. I looked for the source of the power surge and glared as I spotted the culprit walking toward us.

"Are you hurt?" asked Loki warily.

"Just a flesh wound," I assured him, gathering power from behind into my arms and fists. "You might wanna sit this one out though."

"No no, let him try," the attacker taunted as he got closer to us.

"I knew I smelled something rotten in the wind," I muttered. "What is it this time? First the heart, now the brain rotting away, would make sense if it was you that sold us all out."

The man before us glowered at me then flashed rotting, blackened teeth, while for the most part he looked alive, he was essentially rotting from the inside out. "You aren't the only one with a stone organ, my head will remain just as much as your heart does till I rip that out of you."

I arched an eyebrow. "Lemme guess, one of your Hydra buddies was a brain surgeon or so he claims. They all think themselves doctors of something that organization, not one medical degree posted when I was with them though, kinda makes you wonder."

"They don't need doctors for corpses," he snapped.

"You sure you're not braindead? Cuz I'm sure coroners and morticians both require a medical degree to be licensed with the job."

"Have a few run-ins with those folks have you?" he sneered. "You know the best part about you was at the very least being a warm body at the end of the day, now you don't even have that."

I snorted at his attempt to insult me. "Oh hun, the best part of you ran down your mother's legs. You gonna bark all day, you little bitch, or are you gonna bite?"

He held his hands to his head and another ball of smoke and lightning came hurtling at us but this time it was aiming for Loki at breathtaking speed, he was essentially pulling an Azula on me thinking I'd either let Loki get hit or take it myself but I saw his Azula and raised him a Dumbledore, telling my guiding spirits to yank him away from the path of the ball as I wouldn't be fast enough to help myself. I waved my hand toward Loki and he was suddenly swept aside and away from the direct battle ahead. Loki scrambled to his feet, a dagger in each hand and returning to his battle armor swiftly, glancing at me in shock. I mouthed a sorry to him before focusing all my attention to the rotten necromancer in front of me.

"Targeting what's mine isn't your best move when you really don't need to give me more motives to decapitate you than you already have," I warned.

"I know he's your weakness though. I want to see just how weak he really makes you," he sneered. "If what doesn't kill you makes you strong, what about when you're already dead."

"You're well on your way to finding that out yourself, hun. I can help answer that for you though." I thrust out a hand and black lightning flew from my fingertips. My rival managed to shield some of it with his own magic but as he wasn't a demi god the impact of that much power still sent him flying back. I didn't wait for him to get up though as I charged at him with a ball of power around each fist.

He rolled away right before I could punch in his head and destroy the stone inside it and got to his feet as I stood up, charging at me as I straightened up so we were suddenly toe to toe trying to kill each other. For a solid few minutes it was just dodging and exchanging blows and balls of energy before he decided to get sneaky and tried to slash me with his ceremonial dagger hidden in his boot. I dodged it just enough to not actually cut me but it did do some damage to my hoodie which had me glaring at him as I loved my hoodies. From there, it was throwing either each other, balls of power, or punches at each other with him occasionally trying to throw power at Loki who quickly learned to keep an eye on his attacks as much as I was without interfering, this wasn't his fight anymore. The ground around us was starting to look barren and dead from the effects of our powers used against one another, the grass brittle and brown. We both paused for a moment, both battered and frustrated neither of us were getting the upper hand with what we were doing.

"Why won't you stay down?!" he demanded.

I scoffed. "What is dead can never die. What's your dilemma here? What did Hydra even offer you to make you switch sides?"

"A chance to be something greater than this, the other necromancer, to be a demigod."

"And how's that working out for you?" I asked in bemusement. "They aren't higher powers, they're hired powers, there's a difference. There's no cutting corners on that one, ask nicely or die trying. How did you know where to find me? On the plane?"

"I had a spook tail you, not all the spirits are on your side you know."

"The good ones are, the rest are usually locked or exorcised so kudos on finding one of the select few willing to help a brother out."

He narrowed his eyes at me, collecting powers as he did. "If I'm not given what I want, then I'll have to take it myself just like I did with the other necromancers that went against me."

"And that's why no matter where that stone is surgically implanted in you, you will never be one of us, going against your own kind for something you'll never get." I lowered one hand to the ground and reached into the earth with just death magic alone, calling for something very specific as I waited for him to make the first move this time. "Especially not from me."

"And what makes you so special?" he demanded.

"Come here and find out." He lunged forward, taking the bait and I dropped to one knee at the last second, dodging his power-fist at the same time a rotted hand burst from the ground with my own dagger I snatched up and sliced into my enemy's rotted guts. He stumbled back, his free hand going to his stomach as he was weakened but not done for, the stone keeping him barely alive inside him. "Almost seems pointless since you're already decaying inside."

He looked at the wound I gave him from my dagger and glared at me as it was already speeding up the process. "You little cunt."

"Let me guess, you're gonna kill me, right? Join the line of people with empty threats they never finish."

Black lightning danced around his head and down to his body, staving off the spreading death from reaching his neck but not healing the blade wound either. "Should I rip out your soul first or your stone?"

"You say that like you've actually gotten the upper hand in this fight but who here has the unhealed wound and who here has survived worse?" I retorted.

He sneered at me with his rotten teeth and lunged forward once more but being the slimy little bastard he was, pulled his dagger apart so there were actually two identical ones and threw one at my leg while making a bee line around me with the other dagger at Loki. I gritted my teeth as the dagger hit its mark in my thigh and not wasting time even to take it out of me, threw a power ball at him from behind so he couldn't dodge it and sent him off his course to my lover. I then took out the dagger in my leg and limped over to the bastard despite the agony burning through the entire limb. I didn't wait for him to get up and kicked him hard in the head right where I guessed the stone was before aiming for the wound I gave him with my blade. "Silly asshat, kicks are for ribs." His snapped under my leather boots. He tried to throw the other knife he still had at Loki but I caught it this time and dissolved the twin dagger like I did the one in my leg. I grabbed him by the throat, lifting him up, and slamming into another park tree while holding him in place.

"You really wanna know why you can't kill me after all this time?" I challenged.

"You don't scare me, Nell," he choked out.

I recalled what the Wiccan seer had told me and let go of everything holding me back. "I can fix that. You can't kill a Horsemen." A different kind of power rippled throughout my body, not necromancy, but something stronger, eternal and deadly and incomparable. The entire arm and hand holding him up was skeletal as was half my face and that's when fear started to leak into his. He fought and wiggled in my grasp, trying to pry my bones off his neck but my finger bones just dug in deeper while he kicked at me. I raised my free hand, also all bones, and went for his head, aiming for the stone still managing to keep him alive when his throat was slowly being punctured and torn. And then the world seemed to pause, everything went silent and still, everything was frozen even including most of me as I couldn't seem to reach the stone in his head but was poised to grab it out of his forehead. And then something else happened, something that only happened to me when something very specific was coming. I got what Peter Parker would call the "the Peter tingle" and chills ran up and down my body despite the whole lack of nerves and feelings thing I had being a skeleton.

#loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki romance #avengers #zombies #necromancy #necromancer #nell the necromancer #loki x ofc #loki x original female character #loki x nell

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tenmillionwhumperflies · 4 years ago

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Cloudwalker Series: Part 1

Okay, so let’s get the ball rolling with a part 1. I’ll try and post at least once a week, but if people want to ask me questions then I’ll happily answer asks on that and I might do a BTHB soon as well.

So this involved human-like creatures being badly neglected, including mentioning some of these creatures have been mutilated (wing and horn removal), the selling of said creatures, and a fairly creepy owner. If there is anything else I should mark this as, please let me know.

Master-list Here

Approx WC: 1900

He walked into the square like he owned it, and he could have if he wanted to. Everyone there knew it and they kept out of his path, hiding, bowing, doing what they thought was best to survive. He followed the signs and sounds of cries to the marketplace where the cloudwalkers were kept. The air buzzed with energy and suffering, and the smell was strong and foul. He was ready to take one for his own, but finding one… interesting enough, was the challenge. He had all day to look, and this was not a decision he was willing to rush. He had a feeling he’d know when he saw it.

“You there,” he called out to a handler. The handler’s eyes almost popped out of his head when he recognised him. He was a young man, but strong, gruff, and iron-fisted. The cloudwalkers all flinched and ducked as he passed, and yet he melted in Avizon’s presence. Avizon loved the rush of power it made him feel. He was the strongest one here, and he would get what he wanted.

“Avizon! W.what can I do for you, your greatness?”

Avizon smirked. So his reputation as an ‘evil sorcerer’ had reached this far into the land. “I want a pet, I was wondering if you could guide me in the right direction.” “I will certainly try. I.is there something in particular you’re looking for?”

“There are a few things, yes.”

Avizon gestured for them to begin walking, and he took in the sight of the cloudwalkers in their cages. Cages that were too small, even for the poor creatures who had lost their wings. He saw the wild look of fear in their eyes as he passed, the look of a wild animal. That’s all they really were, animals, creatures beneath humans and certainly beneath him. The majority of these creatures were no good to him. Their wings were missing, or badly damaged. He needed feathers, and a pet that wasn’t so traumatised and flinchy under his touch.

“What is your name?” Avizon asked the handler. “Archer, your greatness.”

“Well, Archer, I want a cloudwalker, something… fresh, one with their wings and horns, preferably male.” “We have several fresh captures, but they are less broken and only half-trained.”

“You don’t need to worry about that. Take me to them.”

Archer led the way deeper into the market, past more cages and customers, to a closed-off section. He unlocked it and allowed Avizon to enter first.

“If I had known you were coming, I would have had this area cleaned, it is so rare for customers to enter here.”

Indeed, it did need cleaning, the smell of blood and filth was somewhat overpowering, but he could tolerate it. His own dungeons had a reputation for smelling the same.

“We have three new products this month. That one over there was in a fight before we caught it, so it’s still recovering from the fall. We haven’t really started training it yet if you want to start from fresh. This one is a right weakling. Trained him within two full days of work. He aims to please, that’s for sure. He’s getting moved outside in the morning.”

Avizon took a long look at the ‘weakling’. With white feathers and soft brown hair. He had large innocent eyes, already filled with tears and one horn. He looked perfectly adorable, but for now he kept walking, seeing a cloudwalker chained against the far wall, by a collar and a shackle on either wrist. His black wings, outstretched and held in clamps, were a little more uncommon. Not as rare as speckled wings, but special enough.

“What about that one? I thought you said they had their horns.”

“Oh, they do, your greatness.” Archer walked over to the creature, who snarled behind the muzzle, but Archer grabbed him by the hair. Avizon approached curiously despite the creature snarling and snapping in Archer’s grip. Archer moved some of their thick contrasting white hair, revealing a tiny horn, maybe an inch in length. They had some growing to do if they were to curl around their head like the horns on a ram.

“This one’s a lot younger than the others. The equivalent of our early twenties. It’s got an attitude, but I am confident it is breakable. I was able get a few commands into its thick skull.”

Avizon nodded slowly, and Arched took the creature by the jaw to force them to look up at Avizon so he could examine him. His eyes were wild, but not just with fear. Avizon could sense this one had a real spirit in him, a spark. He did like a challenge, but there was one problem.

“You cut his hair?” Avizon asked, seeing that his usually long hair was cut very short.

“I'm afraid it’s too hard to manage the hair, so we get rid of it and sell it on while it’s fine.”

Avizon wasn’t impressed. cloudwalkers were meant to have hair down to their hips, sometimes down to their feet. It was almost as depressing for them as taking their horns or wings, only less painful. If he was getting a cloudwalker, he wanted him to look like one.

“I want this one.” He said, gesturing to the black-winged one. “What is his name?”

“Its wild name is Ihuka, but of course, you can name it whatever you like.”

“Ihuka...” he sampled the word on his tongue. He liked it. He nodded and passed over a gold piece as motivation. “Prep them for me- they’ll be walking alongside my horse. You can have the rest of the payment later.”

Archer grinned and ruffled the creature’s hair, which only made them angrier, but a stinging yank silenced them. Avizon approached the softer cloudwalker, the scared one and gently stroked his hair to pass the time. He whimpered, but Avizon steered clear of his clearly sore horn, or what was left of it. He saw the stump clearly where it had been sawed off and blood remained where they'd hacked away at it. Avizon suppressed his anger as the creature leaned into the touch with a soft whimper. He was older as his one horn was almost a third of the way grown. Seeing the creature so compliant, trying to lean against his leg, seeing the welts on his skin. It pulled at a heartstring Avizon didn’t know he had.

He wanted a cloudwalker for a steady supply of feathers for his spells and company. He’d only intended to buy one, a challenge to work with, but the idea of having one already manageable was too tempting. He did have two very different needs after all. He had space, and he could easily afford it. Besides, they were social creatures. A little company would do them some good if he was away.

“Change of plan, I’ll have two. I want this one also.”

“Yes, your greatness. Is this one to walk as well?”

Avizon looked down at his legs, the cuts, deeper and more sore looking than Ihuka’s. He'd had two full days of training and the injuries showed. He looked exhausted, but seemed well behaved enough. “No, this one can ride with me. Does he have a wild name?”

“Not that we know of.”

Avizon looked down at him and scratched behind his ear, which made him arch his neck. “I’ll think of something.”

Avizon watched as Archer struggled to force Ihuka’s wings out of the clamps that had held them wide open and into a cramped leather harness to keep them restrained. Ihuka managed to get a wing free, hit Archer hard in the face, and scramble back as far as their collar would allow. “You little-” Archer snarled. The cloudwalker by Avizon whimpered in fear.

“Please, allow me to assist,” Avizon said. He patted the brown-haired cloudwalker on the head and approached Ihuka. Like a wild animal, Ihuka snarled and showed his sharpened fangs, which, behind a muzzle, were useless. Avizon was not afraid. “You said they were partially trained?” “It knows what the words mean, it’s taking a while to make it do as it’s told though. So far, it knows come, stay, kneel and follow.”

Avizon pointed to the ground by his foot. “Ihuka, come!”

Ihuka snarled again and inched back. Avizon smirked and used his powers with a flick of his hand, sending an invisible force to pull him closer when he didn’t do as he was told. It sent Ihuka into a blind panic, confused by what was happening.

“Get the harness,” Avizon said, and Archer obeyed.

It was easy for Avizon to use his magic to force Ihuka to neatly fold their wings, and for Archer to secure them in the leather harness, tying it tight and buckling it up. Ihuka shrieked like something possessed, trying in vain to thrash. Avizon had perfect control over him, and he knew that he’d be able to manage him quite easily.

“I appreciate the help, your greatness,” Archer huffed with relief when he was done securing him. A blindfold and a different type of muzzle with a bit to quieten them finished the process. Ihuka’s hands were tied in front of him and his hands were wrapped in a thick cloth, tucked under the manacles to stop them using their claws.

“This one certainly is wild, I’m impressed.”

Avizon turned back to the brown-haired cloudwalker that whined and lowered themselves down. Seeing Avizon use his powers had clearly scared him. He inched back, trembling.

“You’re not in trouble, little pet.”

Avizon approached, stunned at how docile he was when he took the muzzle off himself. He’d brought his own, a leather one that was far more comfortable than the metal ones. He’d only brought one, but he trusted this cloudwalker would be less trouble. He deserved the nicer muzzle. The cloudwalker backed off as best he could as he approached with the piece, and he dared to hiss, but that was all. Firm, but considerate hands kept him still until it was fastened. It wasn’t practical to punish them yet, not until they were back at the palace if anything. He wanted an easy journey, and he was a considerate man. These creatures didn’t know who they were dealing with yet. So Avizon patted his head as a reward. “Good.”

Avizon noted the areas where this one was missing feathers on his white wings, great bloody chunks. It was no surprise when he thrashed and panicked as Archer released his wings. Avizon used his magic again but stroked his hair as he slowly folded his wings for him and had them restrained properly. It did help to calm him a little but he whimpered and mewled in fear. “Good boy… I think I will call you Dyan.”

“An excellent name,” Archer said. Avizon rolled his eyes. Bootlicker.

Avizon attached a strong leash to Dyan’s collar since their hands were behind his back for the journey. He would fix that later and tie them around his front once they were on the horse so he had to hug him to hold on. Avizon used gentle magic to help Dyan to his feet, and then looked back to Archer who was battling to make Ihuka walk forward, but revealing his curved knife was more than enough incentive. Ihuka followed behind with his head down. He was going to be an interesting one, Avizon could feel it.

“Come. We have a long journey ahead.”

Sorry it’s so long, but I hope you found this interesting.

#whump #whump writing #cloudwalker series #whumper and whumpee #Avizon #Ihuka #Dyan #My OCS #Part 1 #tw: neglect #tw: slavery

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black-quartz-sphinx-judge-my-vow · 3 years ago

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Adversaries of The Righteous Ashana Ikatu

Kung-Fu lady. She does the Kung-Fu good, maybe too good? Ashana is a former immaculate monk, who took over a local karate studio to train assassins. Because she’ssssss bored?

Another boring one unfortunately. Her driving motivation is that she’s looking for more in life. Which I’m okay with for a protagonist, but antagonists have to create change in a story.

Anyway.

She won a mystic connection with a snake spirit from the Sifu she defeat, and I’m never going to be against something like that. Plus she’s the strongest raw numbers fighter we’ve had so far, and she’s only human! Actually flipping through the book she might be the strongest. Not bad.

Plus she can transfer the benefits of her snake aura to other people, aaaand battle groups. Which is fun. So the Exalted walk in ready to dunk on some normies, and find the dojo roided up on snake testosterone. It’s a fun, out of nowhere trick. Especially if you can get her in and out of a fight where she uses the aura, so the players are aware of how powerful it is.

If it even is powerful. I don’t know I’m not a mechanics guys, but five hardness seems good.

She’s the only person in her locale willing to target dragon-blooded exalted, so she’s pretty hardcore. If you’re using her as some behind the scene villian, it could be interesting for the reveal to be that she’s a human. There could be some great aftershocks of dynasts trying to cover up the fact that they were manipulated by a mere human.

This manipulation being from the copious amounts of notes she keeps on all the local power players, and their dirty secrets. Less of a criminal mastermind type thing, and more blackmail and extortion. Which is a good flavor on it’s own. The local Mayor needs your help because someone is blackmailing them, with whatever highly illegal stuff they’re up to. Suddenly it’s not as simple as taking down a gangster.

Also of note. From her intimacies she have some kind of fondness for the dojo and her students. She has two, Pride and Satisfaction. And if you kill her the students will come after you, so she might be a genuinely good teacher.

It’s interesting that the drive for her is basically being unfulfilled, when she does do something that satisfies her. So What’s she looking for? I think it’s exaltation. I honestly can’t imagine anyone in creation not seeking that, but her intimacies of jealousy to Exalted makes that a logical leap.

I think she would be a good villian, who get’s beaten and then returns. Because I don’t think there’s anyway she would be defeated by an Exalted, even a Solar and let that subdue her. If anything her purpose in life would suddenly become crystal clear.

Misc.

She’s 50, but thanks to healthy living and Kung Fu, she looks 25. So Maybe Mnemon is telling the truth, and there is no dark magic involved.

Rating

Writing about Ashana and thinking of hooks for her, has actually made me like her a lot more. So I'm going to give her 5/10 Kung Fu Ninja Assasins.

Plot Hooks

1. Ashana is holding a perfectly legitimate demonstration at her Dojo. Anyone is welcome to come in and challenge her hand to hand in between belt advancement tests for her students.

2. A prideful terrestrial was defeated honorably by Ashana. He now returns to town with two of his classmates from The House of Bells to burn the dojo down.

3. Ashana has been defeated but spared. Driven by humiliation and revenge she goes to the other 7 Snake Dojo’s on the blessed isle, and defeats every Sifu, collecting their snake spirits. Once all 8 are collected they form into the unstoppable Yamata No Orochi, The Eight Headed Serpent.

4. Quivering Mouse is the a meek little guy who goes to Ashana’s Dojo. The old Sifu helped him build his confidence and was a great mentor to him. Now Ashana has driven our all the other students and filled the dojo with thugs. Mouse is too scared to leave, and doesn’t want to let his Sifu’s legacy vanish. - An exalted laying the smack on a normal human isn’t that impressive, and honestly maybe not their place. But tutoring Mouse and giving him the skills he needs to win back the Dojo, that sounds like a much more worthy goal.

5. Ashana found no satisfaction in the temple, and even with her goals accomplished, she’s still unsatisfied. Such is the fate of all who worship at the alter of might and mine. Still as much pride as she takes in her squad of assassins she’s still wants for something. Perhaps if players can find what it is that Ashana truly desires in her heart of hearts she can be satisfied and driven towards the path of righteousness. Or maybe it’ll only make her worse.

Campaign

She’s runs an evil dojo, how could you not do Karate Kid with her?

On a serious note. I probably wouldn’t use her as the Big Bad for a campaign, but maybe an arc. She could be good to talk how exaltation chooses heroes. She’s skilled, and pretty much at the peak of human ability, but she doesn’t have the spark of goodness it takes. This could be poignant especially if she manages to win a one on one fight against a player. “Why did he choose you and not me?” Use her to highlight that power alone is not enough.

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capnjay21 · 4 years ago

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A House is Never Still 5/6

Five years ago, Emma Swan disappeared under mysterious circumstances. Killian Jones’ disappearance, well, not so mysterious – given the denizens of Storybrooke all but blamed him for her murder. Drawn back to town by a series of strange events, he soon realises the story of what really happened the night she vanished is beginning to unravel, and what’s more: it isn’t over.

A/N: this week really got away from me - but here is chapter five! some answers are finally upon us, as we rattle towards the story's conclusion. thank you so so so much for everyone’s support, and as ever I send many large buckets and spades of thanks to @hollyethecurious for this glorious aesthetic - which, really, made the fic write itself. enjoy!

Rating: T

Warnings: mentions of suicide, canonical character death, and some Spooky Business™.

Continuing the tiny taglist I started last time - but if you want off this list, just let me know and I promise I will not be offended! <3 <3 and if anyone happens to want on the list for the last part, just give me a buzz!

@snowbellewells @carpedzem @kmomof4 @optomisticgirl

AO3 | one | two | three | four

-/-

5 - ghosts were created

October 25th 2014 – 5 Years Ago

She managed to catch David, Regina and Mary Margaret before they headed home after school, and drew them around the back of the building in order to afford some privacy. First, Emma had shown them the dagger, and then she had told them about the visit she and Killian had paid to Belle Gold. Then finally, and she had hoped Killian would forgive her for doing so, she had filled in some of the gaps in their knowledge surrounding the circumstances of Liam Jones’ suicide – the house, the papers, stuff they might have been too young to fully realise when it happened. And the fact that, some weeks before he died, he had been exploring the possibility of something more… supernatural making itself known within Brooke House. Something that the existence of the dagger might now lend far greater credence to.

Her fingertips tingled with the strange truth of it all.

Magic existed, and Emma did not know how much that changed the world.

They had been silent for a long time, exchanging doubtful looks that Emma understood but did not care for, but when it became clear she wasn’t going to jump up and shout ‘just kidding!’, David was the first to speak up.

“This is crazy, you know that, don’t you? You know this is crazy.”

“I know how it sounds,” she said, willing herself to look as sincere as possible. “And without the dagger I’d have written it all off as completely mad.” She gestured to the aforementioned implement, sitting on the ground between the four of them. None of them seemed to want to touch it.

“How did you find the dagger?” Mary Margaret asked.

Emma felt her cheeks warm, and thought about how she had found herself back at Brooke House last night. None of it was clear in her memory, just vague flashes of feeling, and it was a struggle to try and muddle through the fog. When she had awoken in her room she had been tired and groggy, and it certainly felt like she had been up half the night – but the truth was she just couldn’t know for sure if that strange, breathless walk by midnight was something she had imagined. Whatever had happened, stumbling about the woods at night in her pyjamas made her an idiot, so she had already decided she would be leaving that detail out.

“I left something at the house yesterday,” she said, avoiding a lie. “I went back for it after we’d all left, and I found it there.”

David had been for dinner at Mary Margaret’s house – there was nothing to suggest anything otherwise had happened.

Regina stalked forward and reached down for the dagger, whipping it off the ground with speed; to her surprise, Emma felt herself almost lunging forward to stop her before she stayed the movement. The callous handling of the dagger was suddenly so distressing to her. She forced herself to stay put, and let Regina carry on her examination. She traced the tip of a perfectly manicured finger over the grooves where Liam’s name had been carved into it.

“Alright, say it’s true,” she declared imperiously, eyes snapping onto Emma. David made to protest and Regina silenced him by raising a hand. “Say all of it is true. That there’s something going on with that house, and that it has something to do with how Liam died. If so, then why on earth are we messing around with the same stuff? If it’s all connected, surely following directly in his footsteps is a way to get us all dead at the bottom of that ravine.”

She flinched at the harshness of her words, but could understand the sentiment. Emma had been turning the same thought over in her mind the entire day – these were clearly forces beyond their understanding, maybe even beyond their control. So she decided to reveal one final detail.

“The truth is…” Emma began reluctantly. God, she hoped Killian would forgive her for saying this. “They never found a body. Liam’s body, I mean. There was enough evidence to suggest he had definitely been in the car, enough to rule out any reasonable doubt. And the river down there is aggressive, so the consensus was that it was probably swept out to sea. But they never actually found anything.”

Killian had told her this once, quietly. Had whispered it into the air when they were thirteen, as if he had just wanted to see how it would sound to admit out loud that, sometimes, he imagined it meant Liam was still alive.

Regina’s eyes dropped warily to the dagger in her hands. Liam Jones, it still said. As if worried she might meet a similar fate, she carefully laid it back on the ground and stepped away.

“What if this means that not only was Liam not crazy, but it could mean… well, I don’t have to spell it out.”

She didn’t want to say it, because to give it a voice would make it sound ludicrous and outrageous and would probably make them all give up on the idea, herself included. The others felt the same, she could sense it, but they were also all thinking the same thing.

What if it meant that something else had happened to Liam Jones? That maybe, and there was the slimmest chance for it, but it was there all the same – that Killian’s most fervent, irrational hope might be true. That he was still alive.

“Then we have to try.”

Emma was surprised to see it was Mary Margaret who had spoken, but felt immensely relieved to hear it. She had been sure the other girl would be the hardest to persuade.

David almost looked alarmed. “You believe all this?”

“I don’t know what I believe,” she said, and Emma could see doubt still marred her expression. “But I know what I hope, for Killian. If there’s any chance… we owe it to him to do this.”

Emma agreed wholeheartedly. “Exactly.”

Trying to summon some kind of evil spirit, or demon, or whatever she had felt inside that house may not be exactly what they wanted to do, but whether it succeeded or not, whether it was real or not, helping Killian was more important than any of that. Best case scenario, they discovered something important, something that changed theirs and Killian’s lives forever. Worst case scenario, it might stop Killian wondering. It might bring him some form of closure.

Emma picked up the dagger, and the metal felt warm to the touch. Welcoming. As if it were telling her to believe this would work, in the best way that they all wanted. It strengthened her resolve.

David and Regina exchanged looks, but they also agreed.

Which was what brought them later to the end of the gravel driveway of the group home, after Emma had asked Archie if Killian was around to come outside and join them. It still felt somewhat odd, even after a year had passed, to be knocking on the front door to the group home and behaving like a guest. In a lot of ways it still was her home, Archie’s kindly smile still her welcome, the redbrick walls the backdrop to her life. It was here she had experienced most of the formative moments of her life.

Although she cared very deeply for both David and Ruth, and was grateful for everything they had done for her, the quietly realised truth in her heart was that they had come a little too late.

Killian looked bewildered as they all recounted what they had decided eagerly, talking over each other in their enthusiasm to let him know they were here, they wanted to help, they’d do whatever he needed them to. He took the dagger from Emma as if in a daze, tracing the letters of his brother’s name faintly, but tenderly.

“You’d do this?” he said finally, still uncertain. “For me?”

“Of course,” Regina replied smoothly, as if just an hour earlier she hadn’t been voicing her own, significant doubts. “We’re your friends.”

“We’re in this together,” David agreed. “But you definitely have Emma to thank.”

Emma felt her face flush when he turned his gaze on her, and memories of their time spent at Granny’s on her birthday swam to the surface. He was looking at her like she’d hung the stars.

That wasn’t it at all – she’d just found the dagger, nothing more. Killian had done all the legwork. She was just stitching the fragments together.

His lips parted, and she had a sudden urge to stop him as she felt he might say something horrendously heartfelt and embarrassing in front of the others, so she spoke over him quickly.

“You can thank me later,” she said briskly, flashing him a smile. “But we’ve got to catch ourselves a demon first.”

They agreed on the following night, Thursday, as they didn’t have school on Friday thanks to a local holiday. After they parted ways, Killian keeping a tight hold of the dagger, Emma felt a certain buoy in her step but she couldn’t really work out why – it was that powerful sense of doing, of really getting ready to achieve something for a friend that had her so motivated.

David teased her about it, but she let him. Her mind was already on tomorrow evening, and the secrets they might uncover in the walls of Brooke House.

-/-

Present Day

Killian – Killian, don’t –!

Killian jerked himself back to the present.

When David had asked to meet him he couldn’t help the surge of relief within him; it hadn’t done much for his already troubled mind to remain at odds with the other man, especially not when he was one of the few people in Storybrooke who didn’t actively shoot poison at him through their eyes whenever they passed him on the street. He knew his continued association with Regina couldn’t have gone unnoticed, nor their frequent trips out into the forest while they visited Brooke House. They had spent a few days with their full, combined efforts on the house, but had turned up nothing.

Unless he was alone, Emma refused to make her presence known. With every passing day, Regina’s scepticism that there was anything to be found in Brooke House continued to grow, and he knew he was running out of time.

He had promised the dark, moonlit vision of Emma that he would help her escape Brooke House; she had begun instructing him immediately. She suggested herbs to burn and in which order, phrases to be spoken aloud and the intention with which they should be uttered, and Killian had begun slipping some of these practices into he and Regina’s attempts, passing them off as something he had learnt while he was away. What the spectre of the house did not realise was that he fully intended to release Emma – his Emma, and her alone. He was sure she was in there, she just had to be. The only thing left to figure out was how to get her out, and weakening some of the enchantments around the house had to play a part in that. So for now, their goals somewhat aligned.

David had asked to meet by the lake in Memorial Park, and Killian had arrived a good ten minutes early. It was only because his plan for the morning had been for naught – on a whim, and because it was nearby, he had decided to visit the group home. He wasn’t exactly sure why. Mostly, he felt like the person he wanted to speak to most was Archie Hopper, and although he had been hoping he might run into him around town by an act of providence, it was yet to occur.

Archie’s counsel hadn’t always been something welcome to Killian. He had been a stable enough figure in his teenage years, when stability had been the thing he lacked most in the world, but after Emma’s disappearance Killian had forced a gulf between them as wide as he could muster. He hadn’t wanted to look at Archie’s kind, sad face any longer, and he had vehemently rejected any attempts of comfort, or wisdom, when all he had wanted was to be angry that the world was not done taking people from him.

They had spent much of the year on bad terms, but had departed on worse. Their final argument after Killian announced his plans to leave town the evening following graduation had been full of vitriol and spite – all stemming from himself. Archie had wanted him to stay, to grow, to move past his personal tragedies and face those who condemned him. Killian had wanted to disappear. With reluctance, the older man had let him go – but the worst of it was that this had only made more concrete his younger self’s belief that nobody would fight for him anymore, not even Archie.

With age he could see the affection Archie had borne for him for what it was – genuine, and without conditions. He had been able to feel his heart pounding as he raised a knuckle to the old wooden door of the group home, anxious at the idea of meeting him again, of giving the apology he knew to be long overdue.

He needn’t have fretted. The social worker at the door informed him, rather tersely, that Archie had moved on some years ago and no longer worked there. Perhaps his disappointment had shown rather more clearly than he intended, as the young woman took pity on him and told him that the last she had heard he had moved to Portland, but even that information might now be outdated. She offered to see if a forwarding address had been left for him, but Killian assured her it was fine, and thanked her for her trouble.

His heart felt like a lead weight. There was so much he had wanted to say, and he was sure he might never get the chance to now. To clear his head he had taken a few turns around the park, but like everywhere else in Storybrooke it was drenched in memories of Emma, sweet and sad, of water fights on the grass or climbing trees as tall as their younger bodies could manage.

Before long, he found himself at the edge of the lake, awaiting David’s arrival. The afternoon was brisk, and he was regretting his decision not to wear gloves as his fingers felt brittle and slow, now curled up in the pockets of his jacket. The sky had turned a bruised grey, and the surrounding forest left the surface of the water the murky colour of moss, disturbed only by the occasional ripple of wildlife or the breeze brushing across it.

“Hey.”

Killian turned and found David striding towards him, a look of trepidation clear on his face. David had always worn all of his emotions on his sleeve. They exchanged a few awkward pleasantries, but it didn’t take long for David to jump to the heart of the matter.

“I’m sorry I blew up at you,” he said quickly. “It was unfair.”

“You don’t need to apologise,” Killian assured him. “You were right – I haven’t been here. I should have been more sensitive to how much things had changed.”

For a moment he thought about the first few months of their senior year, before it all happened. The five of them had been thick as thieves. Killian and Regina had always been friendly due to a shared acerbic sense of humour, but it wasn’t until Emma had brought David and Mary Margaret into their lives that he had really, truly begun to think of anyone else other than Emma as a close friend.

Killian could almost see them now, clustered in a circle at the end of the driveway of the group home, telling him in no uncertain terms that they’d like to give summoning a demon a go, just because friendship didn’t need any other excuses.

“I know you don’t care for Regina much anymore, but she’s been really helpful.” He let out a long breath. “Still has the emotional capacity of a lawnmower, but in her own way I think she’s been looking for Emma all this time.”

Looking for magic, looking for purpose, perhaps. To Killian it was all the same thing.

“We tried to be there for her, after her dad died,” David shrugged, but he clearly carried some remorse over it. “She didn’t want to know.”

That didn’t surprise him. She had only been nineteen, and she had become distant enough after Emma disappeared, even to him. With a twinge of regret he considered that perhaps his sudden up and leaving after graduation didn’t do much for her ability to rely on others, not that she would ever admit it. Just one more thing he’d done wrong that year.

They started walking, catching up properly in a way they hadn’t had a chance to since Killian came back to town. David talked about his job at the animal shelter, where old schoolmates had ended up, how Ruth was faring. Killian coasted over the harsher details, but tried to give David a similar recount of what he had been doing with himself over the past five years. It mostly consisted of travel stories, of the odder jobs he had picked up on the road in order to keep himself afloat. He didn’t want to talk about living hand to mouth, of the multitude of nights he had spent freezing and sleeping fitfully in his car, or the reasons he had chosen certain places to visit, and their penchant towards the supernatural. It was easier to pick the funnier things to talk about, and he sensed David knew he wasn’t telling the whole story, but probably preferred it that way.

After a little while, when they had almost exhausted every other curiosity, Killian finally decided to bring it up.

“Do you want to come?” he asked, gently. “To Brooke House?”

David’s steps faltered, and Killian could see his eyebrows had knitted together in concern.

He swallowed. “Is – is she –?”

“She’s there,” Killian admitted, even if he hadn’t done the same for Regina. David had seen her, after all. A troubled mix of joy and trepidation overcame David’s expression, a smile threatening to pull at the corners of his mouth, and although Killian hated to pull the rug from under him, he didn’t think it would be fair to give him false hope. “She’s… not herself. But I think you know that.”

David deflated instantly.

“So it’s – it’s what I thought, then. It’s not really her. Emma. It’s just… that house.”

Killian had found himself wondering the same thing. “I’m not sure. I’m investigating, Regina is helping me.” He hesitated, but decided to offer again. “Do you want to come?”

Emma had been special to David in ways far different to Killian. Killian may have shared a roof with Emma for many more years than David had, but he was under no illusion as to what his true feelings for Emma had been – David’s had been much more fraternal. The idea of not being able to protect her had hit him particularly hard, even if Emma had only ever indulged his strong sense of brotherly vigilance with an arched eyebrow.

It would be difficult for him to see her as she was now; fragile, unhinged. Twisted. It was why Killian had initially wanted him as far from it all as possible.

To his surprise, David actually agreed with him.

“No, I – I don’t, really,” he said, wincing as if he were afraid Killian might be cross. How could he be, when he understood better than anyone? “I want to remember her the way she was. I don’t want this to…”

He trailed off. Killian tried to look as understanding as possible, to assure him it was all perfectly fine. From the miserable look David was giving him, he wasn’t sure he succeeded.

“I should never have called you,” he muttered with dismay, “and put you through all this again. I brought you right back into it.”

Killian smiled ruefully. “The truth is, David, I never really left it.”

For a long while they were silent, only the rustling of trees surrounding them, and Killian felt that even the chirping of birds sounded morose and downcast.

It was difficult to find reasons to stay cheerful.

“Let me take you somewhere,” David said finally. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to show you.”

Seeing no reason not to, he allowed David to take the lead. He led them farther into Memorial Park, and Killian realised with reluctance that he was taking them in the direction of the old chapel behind the Convent of the Sisters of Saint Meissa. He wasn’t too thrilled about it, not just because of the unhappy association with Belle Gold that the convent reminded him of, but also because he had a strong inkling of why he was being brought here, and he didn’t much care for it.

Following David past the chapel, his sense of foreboding only grew as they began to walk cautiously among the headstones of the graveyard, many weathered with age and moss as if they had sprouted from the ground themselves. After they had passed a tall statue of a woman cradling her face in her hands, David slowed to a stop and turned.

Killian froze. From where he stood, he could see only the back of the headstone. The stone was light, an unremarkable, opalescent grey, unmarked by time. It was impossible to see whose name had been engraved across it without closing the distance between he and David and turning around, but it was also impossible to imagine it being for anyone else.

Killian stood, stranded between it being her and not being her, and felt a weary agitation begin to rise in his gut.

“I – can’t.”

David seemed to understand, for he didn’t beckon him any closer.

It was odd, Killian felt, that David could not bear to see Emma alive, but at Brooke House – and yet Killian could not bear to think of her dead, at peace, in the earth.

“We had a service, just a little while after graduation,” he said, quietly, crouching down in front of the stone. “When they officially closed the investigation. I didn’t want to, it felt like… but I agreed for Mom, you know?”

Ruth had taken Emma’s disappearance almost as hard as Killian had. Certainly as hard as Archie had, and Killian had done nothing but punish him for it.

“I wanted to invite you. I would have invited you.” The hurt in his tone was unmistakable. “I had no idea where you were or how to contact you.”

A full year had passed by the time Killian tried to touch base with his friends from Storybrooke – he had bought a phone, and texted David the number. By then he had missed the death of Regina’s father, and whatever event had finally made the gulf between her, Mary Margaret and David unbridgeable. Truly, he was relieved. Killian didn’t have the heart to tell him just how vehemently an invitation to a funeral service for Emma would have been rejected.

He said nothing.

“It might help,” David suggested. “To see it.” He reached out the tip of his fingers to gently trace the words, gaze flickering up to where Killian stood a few feet away. Killian shook his head tightly. “Maybe it would be better if we all just let go.”

Killian struggled with his reply, forcing down the wave of indignation that came with the suggestion. “I appreciate what you’re trying to say, Dave. But I can’t. If roles were reversed, Emma would never have let go of me.”

She didn’t, in fact, when Killian had been nothing more than a ghost himself. Twelve-years-old and she had clung on tight.

David acquiesced, but he did not look like he agreed.

They waited for a little while, breathing between the whistle of birdsong, remembering. Then David stood, and wordlessly they began the slow walk back into the park. Killian left the headstone unread.

In his fractured heart, there was nothing else but her. There was no other choice.

-/-

October 29th – 10 Years Ago

Killian’s new room was cold.

The group home was much airier than the little flat he had shared with Liam, which had been only a small bedroom attached to a sitting room. They had just one window, and in the summer it had been unbearably hot; he had spent many an hour sat miserably in front of the cheap fan Liam had picked up from a convenience store, begging for fall. When they moved in Liam had insisted Killian take the only bedroom while he slept in the sitting room, which Killian did not envy in the balmier evenings.

By contrast, the group home was all flat edges and cold surfaces. The corridors were so wide you could fit three people standing abreast, and footfalls against the landing echoed noisily against the walls of the building. This room he also had to himself, but it felt too big. Another empty bed rested against the opposite wall, a reminder that at some point, this space would be shared – it wasn’t really his. Not the way his room in Liam’s flat had been. He didn’t want to unpack his suitcase. It would be like admitting that all his worldly possessions belonged here now, where someone else could pick them up and touch them whenever they liked.

He missed Liam.

He missed Liam so much, he could feel hot, angry tears begin to well in his eyes every time he thought about it.

Curling his knees up to his chest, Killian took a steady breath and tried not to cry. They wanted him to go back to school on Monday, and he didn’t think he could make it through seventh grade if everyone thought he was the kind of kid that cried.

There was a sharp, abrupt knock at the door. The impatient rapping of knuckles against old wood. Killian hurriedly wiped his eyes, but the visitor didn’t wait for him to invite them in. He supposed he might have to get used to that.

In tumbled a girl with blonde hair and bright green eyes, who he knew took one look at his red-rimmed eyes and decided immediately to pretend she didn’t realise he was crying, by marching over to his window and looking out. Even this act of compassion made him burn with humiliation, piss off, he wanted to scream, he didn’t need their pitying looks. He didn’t want their kindness.

He just wanted Liam back.

The girl whirled around, and to his consternation she was smiling like she was in on the joke.

“Another banner year, right?”

Killian blinked. “What?”

“We’ve all got ghosts here.”

At the mention of ghosts Killian bristled, his mind flashing back to the headline on the newspaper in Archie’s office. The man had tried to hide it once he realised Killian was staring, but he had seen it. The social workers had told him Liam wasn’t well, and that was why he had done it. Killian knew he had been perfectly well, and that the rest of the town thought he was completely mad and believed in ghosts and thought that was why he had decided to do it. Killian didn’t know either way. He just wished he hadn’t done it.

Killian directed the cold fury that headline had ignited in him at the intruder. “Are you making fun of me?”

“No,” she said shortly, and she looked offended at the idea. She looked familiar to Killian, and he had a feeling she was in his grade at school – he thought he might’ve seen Regina speaking to her a few times. Regina was the only sort-of friend he had made so far in Storybrooke. Sort-of, because he felt like they weren’t really friends, so much as aware of the fact that no one else really wanted to be their friend, so they may as well stick together.

Killian didn’t care about Regina right now. He just wanted this girl to bugger off, and for him to get Liam back.

“I’m just saying, we’ve all got tragic backstories in here. No one will be all that bothered by yours by Tuesday.”

This was not all that reassuring. The idea of Liam fading into memory made him feel even more wretched.

“What’s yours then?” he said, rather nastily. Mostly because he wanted her to go.

His tone didn’t phase her in the slightest. Instead she dropped on the opposite bed and ticked them off on her fingers one-by-one, as if they were a grocery list.

“Parents abandoned me by the side of the freeway when I was a baby, got carried to the nearest diner but the boy who brought me in vanished three months later, got adopted by a family until I was three but then they had kids of their own so they took me back.” She grinned wryly. “Thank God they still had the receipt, right?”

Killian eyed her warily; she spoke with the sort of nonchalance that suggested she would allow him to make fun of her the same way she was making fun of herself, but it was also completely transparent. It was obvious these experiences were painful for her, even to talk about as a joke. And from the sounds of it she’d been living in a group home all of her life. Her whole life in big, cold rooms like this. The thought of it made Killian balk.

Despite himself, he felt a twinge of sympathy for her. For both her determined eyes and her bravado, too. He knew what that was like.

“What are you doing?”

“Talking,” the girl replied, giving him an odd look. “With you, I thought.”

“Why?” he demanded.

She shrugged. Killian didn’t remember if he’d seen her with any friends at school, all he could really remember were those few nebulous occasions she had spoken to Regina around him. He didn’t know her name, which definitely meant she wasn’t friends with the bigger, more boisterous groups in his class. That was okay, though. He didn’t particularly care for them either.

There was only one thing Liam had wanted out of him at school. It didn’t matter what grades he got, or whether he was good at sports or got involved in clubs. All Liam had ever made him commit to was being kind.

And the last thing he had said to Liam had venom enough to last for the rest of his life.

I’m not finished, his brother had barked, don’t you walk away from me.

If he had known it would be the last time – which, Killian had learnt, was what made last times so devastating, you never really knew when they would be – he might not have slammed his bedroom door and refused to come out.

But who could say, now?

Thinking about Liam had the same affect it had for the last few weeks – it was like a punch to the gut. He could feel the frustration that had started building since they put him in that room begin to ebb away, feeling much calmer in a matter of moments.

Kindness, that was all Liam had asked for. That wasn’t so hard, was it?

“What’s your name?” he asked.

The change in tack cheered her up immensely and she grinned. “Emma.”

Emma, right. Yeah, he remembered now. Emma sat right at the back of class, near Leroy. Definitely one of the least desirable seats in the room.

“I’m Killian.”

Something easier settled between them, but it didn’t completely assuage the awkwardness. Killian felt tired. He stared at his suitcase, still zipped tightly shut, and he still wasn’t really ready to make it otherwise. He could sense Emma following his gaze.

“So,” she said brightly, to draw his attention away. “Do you wanna know where Archie hides the good snacks?”

After a moment’s hesitation Killian relented, and when she bounded over to the door he followed suit.

Somehow, the prospect of going back to school on Monday seemed just a little less daunting. Maybe, he thought privately, he could ask if Emma wanted to sit by him instead.

That would be nice.

-/-

Present Day

“That’s it,” Regina declared glumly. “That’s the last spell I have in here. We have officially tried everything that might be relevant.”

The air was scented distinctly by a combination of cedar and sweetgrass, thick enough that Killian could feel it catching in the back of his throat. He flapped a hand in front of his face, suppressing a cough, and reached for the bottle of water he had brought with him. The haze had started to rise into the high ceiling, and Killian could spot it escaping through a gap in the brickwork where a roof slate had come loose near the top corner of the room. In his opinion, Regina had somewhat overdone it on the herbs; she had a tendency to rely on the more physical ingredients required, and actually ignored the fact that she did appear to have a natural instinct for the craft.

It was normal, he supposed, for somebody trying to dip their feet into something as intangible as the mystique, to try and ground themselves in more physical expressions of it – but she didn’t need to. Not that she would welcome his advice.

Besides, he was somewhat put out by her announcement. “Everything?”

“Short of getting down on my knees and begging, yes, everything.”

Killian snorted. “Now that would be real magic.”

It had been a week already, and nothing had changed. Whenever Regina was inside it, Brooke House remained vacant, a gaping wound they kept determinedly placing themselves inside, suggesting nothing at all beyond brick and rotted wood and revealing even less. To every suggestion or provocation they made, the answer was only silence, and Killian could already see Regina losing hope. Either in her own abilities or in the idea that there was anything to find, he couldn’t be sure, but neither boded well for continuing their efforts.

Privately, Emma goaded him into bringing the dagger to the house. Every night she coaxed and cajoled, only to rage and curse once she realised he had not brought it – he daren’t, not yet. Unknowingly, Regina had helped him loosen the chokehold the spirit claimed the house held on it, and the final step was bringing her the dagger.

The way Killian saw it, the looser the hold, the nearer to the surface Emma must be.

But nothing they tried looked like it had made any impact. Every night, Emma was the same. Beguiling and capricious, aggressive and cold. And he was running out of time.

“There has to be something else,” he insisted, stepping across the room to where Regina had left her book of shadows and began flipping through the pages.

Irked, Regina stepped over to join him. “You’re right, why would I know all the options in my own book?” she scowled, peering over his shoulder at whichever page happened to be open. “Why don’t we try that fertility spell and see what happens? I’ll get the pinecones, shall I?”

“Very funny.”

“I mean it, Killian. That’s it. There’s nothing else in here worth trying.” When Killian still looked chagrined, Regina’s expression softened. She laid a hand on his arm. “Do you really think I’d hold anything back if it were for Emma?”

Resigning, Killian shook his head. He let out a long breath. “I just don’t like dead ends.”

“Neither do I. But have you considered we are not the problem?”

The air felt too thick. The herbs had mixed with the musty smell of the old furniture and left a stench in the air like something unpleasant had congealed, or gone rotten. Deciding he needed to get something a little fresher in his lungs, and feeling oddly like he didn’t want this conversation to be observed by the walls of the house, Killian gestured for her to follow him out of the front door.

The afternoon was beginning to shift from a light coolness to something much colder, the forest a palette of dappled light through a deep, copper canvas. From the outside, Brooke House looked like it always did. Silent. Daring. Even without their history together, it begged to be explored.

“I’ve always wondered,” he said lowly, watching the house with a critical eye, “why Liam got involved in all of this in the first place.”

Without Liam, they would never have started down this path. The house, Belle Gold, the rotted pieces of orange string tied around the peeling skin of old birch trees. Killian reached for one nearby, picking absently at the knot, hardened through time and years of ill treatment by the elements.

“He was restoring the house,” Regina offered cautiously. “That’s what everyone says.”

He had certainly begun that way – you could tell that much just by looking at the work he had started on the far wall of the sitting room.

“But then why the rest of it? Why did he go to see Belle?”

“Maybe he found the same picture you did – he could’ve just wanted to know more about the house.”

The same questions and the same answers he had cycled through hundreds, thousands of times before, once again began the lap around his consciousness. Brooke House had taken so much already and he still understood so little about it. There was the dagger, for one. Emma’s name was on the dagger now, and that twisted, dark vision of her in the house was what remained, with his Emma buried deep inside.

Liam’s name had been on the dagger once, back before Emma had disappeared. Could that mean –?

No. Liam had been in the car. He’d been over this a hundred times; they said the evidence was incontrovertible. He’d been in the car that crashed into the river even if they never found his body.

Even if once, quietly, he had admitted to Emma that sometimes he imagined that meant he was still alive – somehow.

And say they were all wrong; if Liam wasn’t in the car and had ever been like Emma was now, why didn’t he appear before?

But Liam’s name had been on that dagger. And he was only just scratching the surface on what that might mean.

Killian scrubbed a hand over his chin thoughtfully.

“Gold – Belle’s husband – she said he went to Brooke House because he knew there was a power inside it, and he wanted it. To… possess it, I suppose. And that’s ultimately why he disappeared.” There was power inside it, certainly. And Killian didn’t doubt its ability to lure someone out of their homes, their lives, and seduce them with the promise of something more. “But Liam wasn’t like that.”

But Liam, but Liam, but Liam.

Killian had never been able to reconcile the two motives in his mind. Gold wanted to control the spirit, but what had Liam wanted? He had done all the work for them with regard to summoning the demon; he had doodled the key elements to the ritual on an old piece of paper and had stuffed it in his toolbox. Killian could see the scribbled note as clearly as if it were still in his hand. Salt circle. Curvy dagger. Five points. Where had he gotten all this from? And what did he want from it?

And after all of that, the same question hammered against his skull with ever pressing urgency. It had been ten years since Liam Jones had driven his car over the edge of the ravine, but Killian could still barely restrain himself from hurling his head back and screaming until the heavens gave him an answer.

Why?

Why did he do it?

The gaunt face of Emma Swan from that first night swam before him, promising to give him every answer he had ever asked for, in exchange for her freedom. Maybe the only thing left was to give it to her, and damn the consequences. It might, for one sparing second, finally quiet all the tumult that had lived within him for far too long. Put the ghosts to rest.

Get Emma back.

“The darkness is seductive,” Regina said, but Killian had already forgotten what he had said before it. “Even for the kindest of souls.”

So good of you to come and see me.

“Come on,” he said, after a long moment, “let’s just go get our stuff.”

It was with great reluctance that they gathered their things back in the sitting room. Killian packed away each piece of his equipment with greater care than necessary, slowing down the process enormously. Regina seemed to mirror his sentiment as she started to needlessly take inventory of every herb or crystal she had brought with her, and which of them she was expecting to take back. She even decided to pack away the old scarlet scarf that had been there since the house had returned, and lifted the Ouija board from the ground. Killian knew why.

She was not planning to come back.

It felt right, somehow, to remove all evidence of their ever having been there, even as Killian’s heart began to feel heavy at the prospect. He already knew he would be returning tonight, and he would bring the dagger, finally. Only sights unseen could decide what happened now.

“Killian.”

It was quiet, but sharp. For a moment Killian didn’t register that Regina had spoken, until he looked over his shoulder and saw her staring, frozen, at the darkest wall, the one opposite the front window. The one Liam had abandoned his work on all that time ago, where he had pulled part of the wallpaper away and begun scrubbing at the dirt underneath.

It was not the curling, rotted sheet of wallpaper that Regina was looking at now, but the bared wood panelling that had rested underneath it. Killian knew this because there was something there now that had not been there before.

Written in bold, spiky letters on the wall in some kind of permanent marker, was the word COME.

Killian’s heart began to pound. As he rose hesitantly to his feet, he could feel more than hear the floorboards groan with protest underneath him.

“Don’t,” Regina got out, when he started towards the wall. “We – don’t know where that came from.”

Killian thought he had an idea.

As he approached, he could hear his own blood rushing in his ears, thumping, beating, alive, he had never felt so alive, so sure, so ready for whatever came next. COME, it beckoned, he came, and lifted a trembling finger to the wall to touch the letters. The end of the black pen lines faded into a patchy grey, as if they had been scribbled in a hurry. Killian traced the edge of the E, and realised the end of it extended beneath the wallpaper.

Digging his fingertips underneath it, Killian grimaced as the paper was moist to the touch, and then ripped at it as harshly as he could. A strip of it came clean away, and his eyes widened once he saw what was underneath it.

Another word. LISTEN.

In a frenzy he dug again, harder this time, but pried with a little less force, hoping to bring more of the paper away in one go. The entire sheet pulled away, tearing in his fingers and baring the entire panel down to the ground.

Regina audibly sucked in a breath.

COME, it had said, LISTEN.

But that had only been half of the message.

In a daze, Killian suddenly remembered a detail of the night Emma had stolen his kiss that had slipped from his mind, something hastily stuffed into a bookcase upstairs and promptly forgotten about.

COME LISTEN TO YOUR RECORDER.

-/-

October 26th – 5 Years Ago

They were far quieter this time around.

Their plans had to be put off until long after dark had fallen, for convenience’s sake and in order to avoid arousing suspicions from unaware parents – and because they all knew (but would not own up to) they probably had a greater chance of success by attempting the ritual at night. The moon was bright and full, and Brooke House was lit only by the constant flicker of torchlight and the clear, silver shadow it cast through the sitting room window.

Killian had cradled the dagger close to him while Emma had shouldered a bag full of his black marker, the candles and the salt he had stolen from under Archie’s nose again. Regina had brought her Ouija board, for no other reason than because it felt appropriate, and David had brought an Apollo chocolate bar.

“What?” he had said defensively, his mouth barely forming around the word as the wrapper crinkled in his grasp. “I’m hungry.” He had brought one for Mary Margaret too.

Emma had quickly decided that they all looked ridiculous. They were each dressed in as many layers as possible while still retaining motor function in order to combat the chill night air, highlights including Mary Margaret’s wide eyes being the only visible portion of her face as she had practically wrapped her entire upper body in a bright red scarf, while Emma struggled to keep her beanie from catching on errant low-hanging tree branches as they made their way there. She had always assumed looking cool was something that came naturally when you were as burdened with solemn purpose as they were, but all that really meant was nobody said much and everyone was nervous.

It was perplexing how much spookier Brooke House looked at night.

Where before Emma had seen vivid green ivy climbing the walls from its foundations, now she saw black, curling fingers creeping upwards with unfaltering progress. The cracked windows and shattered roof slates now looked threatening instead of symbol of fatigue, as if something from inside the house and pushed and screamed until the glass exploded and the roof flew open. She thought about the attic, about the thumping of the wardrobe door that had led her to the dagger, now clutched carefully in Killian’s grip like a prayer. Maybe they had already let the danger out. Or maybe there was more to find.

Without much preamble Killian had leapt up the steps to the front door, but the rest of them followed more slowly behind. Emma felt she could understand the source of their reluctance, as even her heart hammered with trepidation while her fingers trembled with excitement.

Magic was real and the world was different now.

Emma had thought that while she and Killian set up the pentagram and the salt circle, that the other three might play again with the Ouija board as they had the first time they had been there. They did not, instead sitting in almost silence while David munched on chocolate and Mary Margaret and Regina stared anywhere but at she and Killian making preparations. The board sat on the ground, untouched, the planchette a few feet away. Mary Margaret took off her scarf.

She had just finished setting up the last candle when Killian called them over, softly, and wordlessly they took their places at each point of the pentagram. The air felt damp like the forest outside, and tingled with something unsaid between them. Emma felt charged and ready to snap.

Killian cleared his throat. “Listen, whatever happens, whatever we find… I’m so grateful, to all of you.”

“We’re with you,” David said, and they all murmured their agreement. Emma took his hand.

Killian squeezed it once, tightly, and in the tremor of his fingers she could feel how nervous he was. Then he released her and reached for the matches, making his way around the circle and lighting each of the five candles, and they all switched off their torches as they did so. Soon, the only light came from the moon, and the flicker of candlelight in front of him.

Then, finally, he placed the dagger in its centre.

Emma heard something hiss, like the sudden suction of air after opening a can of soda. It was so brief that she almost thought she hadn’t heard it, but she knew she must have. Nobody else seemed to, though, so she pressed her lips together and chose not to mention it. The blade glittered in the warm orange glow of candlelight. Killian took his place by her, folding his legs beneath him. The candle left half of his face bathed in shadow, but Emma thought she could see his mouth moving, his eyes flickering closed for a moment. For a moment she imagined he might be praying, and resisted the urge to dismiss that notion as soon as it came to her. He hadn’t believed in any sort of deity for as long as she had known him, but nobody laughed at God when they were staring at the evidence that the world was already stranger than they had dreamt it.

Like before, they reached for the hands of those either side of them, completing the circle they had made on the first night. Except this time it wasn’t about them; it wasn’t about David and Mary Margaret, shyly but enthusiastically clutching at each other, it wasn’t about Regina’s desire to be heard or the impossible sounds that had come to Emma from the wardrobe upstairs. They knew what it was about, and they knew who. It seemed only natural that Killian would speak.

“Show yourself,” he said.

He announced this with confidence, as if he had already decided who it was they were speaking to. As if he knew them already. As if he had just been waiting for them to know him.

It began in much the same way it had before, except this time Emma knew what to expect.

She shut her eyes tightly, and felt the noises from outside the circle begin to dissipate; the rustle of the trees, the old creeks and groans they had come to expect from the ancient framework of Brooke House. The air had gone still, as if it, too, was holding its breath and waiting, and although she knew the others weren’t far from her, she could no longer sense their being close in the same way – it were as if they had all been thrust underwater, and the only true sensation was Killian’s hand in her right, and David’s hand in her left.

The temperature had begun to drop, as if by welcoming some spectral presence it had to absorb everything that made the room conducive to life, but a different kind of warmth had begun to vibrate from somewhere near her collarbone. It tugged at her, touched her, wanted her to lean forward.

Yes, it purred, come.

A low buzzing began to circle around them, and with it Emma began to feel the air moving again, picking up into a mild gust brushing past them and Mary Margaret let out a squeak of alarm.

“Don’t let go,” someone said. She thought it might have been Regina.

The breeze began to grow into a flurry, and Emma felt her beanie being whipped off her head and carried into some other dark part of the room. Orange light swam behind her eyelids as the flames from the candles darted about violently, but they did not go out as she would have expected them to. On they burned, and the buzz rose into a roar until it drowned out every other sound, and the buzz was now a whisper except it had always been a whisper, and she had no idea how she could have ever thought of it as otherwise. A thousand voices whirled about them in chorus, speaking too quickly or too loudly for Emily to distinguish any of the words, but when she heard the others gasp in fright her eyes flew open, and she couldn’t stop the noise of alarm she made once she saw what the others had been looking at.

The dagger was now floating above them, suspended in mid-air.

Even though she knew she was seeing it, and she knew exactly what she was seeing, Emma found it difficult to reconcile it with everything she knew to be real and true.

The world was different now.

“Why – why is it doing that?” David had to yell to be heard over the roar around them.

“Don’t break the circle!” Killian hollered back.

The air began to crackle, and Emma was again caught by the sensation that a storm was about to break out, and half expected to feel the patter or rain on the back of her neck. The wind was whipping her coat and her hair in all directions, but she tried to keep her focus on the dagger – which was the moment she realised it was vibrating, moving in such infinitesimal increments and with such speed that it was impossible to focus on its outline, and it had become a muddled blur of bruised grey and black.

Killian’s hand tightened on hers.

And that was when lightning struck.

Mary Margaret screamed. David let go of Emma’s hand to shield his face from the sudden blast, but it was unlike any kind of lightning Emma had ever seen before. It was aggressively black, and once it struck the dagger it stayed attached, like a sharp, pulsing vein, whirling violently in the squall. Then another struck. And again. And again. With more clashes so loud that her ears began to burn with heat, with pain, darkness latched itself onto the dagger hovering above them. She felt Killian’s touch like an anchor, keeping her tethered to the ground, and David’s loss was like a gaping hole in her side, a vacuum where something strong and indomitable should have been.

She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She thought her face might already be wet, where tears had rolled down and struck her dumb and more than anything she wanted Killian to look at her, but his awestruck expression remained focus on the obsidian zephyr that had engulfed the dagger, swirling dangerously like a storm they were only just out of reach of.

It was too late, now, to put it back in the box.

They should never have done this.

Emma knew it like she knew the shape of her own heart, like she knew the jagged edges of Killian’s soul, like the sharp blade of her fishing knife, like David’s warm, warm embrace.

In Brooke House they had touched something evil, and flung its cage wide open.

Emma gasped, which was how she knew she was struggling for air.

She heard someone call her name, but she had no way of knowing who it might be. She couldn’t see through the vortex to Mary Margaret and Regina, David was cowering away and Killian, and Killian, and Killian.

Killian watched, his mouth open in a silent cry.

Liam, he said – his heart shouted it – Liam, Liam, Liam.

Emma tore her gaze back into darkness.

Which was when she realised someone was inside it.

The realisation struck her with the force of an icy wave. Struggling inside the hurricane there was a man, his arms held up to shield his face, his scream noiseless amongst the thousands of other voices the storm had brought with it, and it was clear he was trapped. Emma couldn’t see his expression but knew immediately that he must be in pain from his posture.

She jerked forwards – and suddenly she was in herself, in fact, she felt so aware of her arms and her hands and the shape of her own eyes that she hadn’t realised she had been away from them until that very moment. It felt like the way she had stumbled in front of Brooke House the night she found the dagger. She was dazed and released and confused but she could breathe, and with a jolt she remembered the man imprisoned inside the vortex.

Her head darted from side to side, but David didn’t look like he had seen him, he was reaching for Mary Margaret – Killian couldn’t have either, or he would not be so frozen and still, she was sure, she was the only one – she was the only one –

She was the only one who could –

“There’s – there’s someone in there!”

Killian had heard her, and immediately jerked his head to look at her. His mouth formed around Liam’s name, but Emma couldn’t hear it over the roaring in her ears. Killian’s eyes darted back to the dagger, unseeing, and he looked at Emma again, helpless. He couldn’t see the man.

Emma could see him.

She was the only one who could –

Emma let go of Killian’s hand.

His cry of alarm was the only thing she heard before she stood, stumbling against the force of the wind all around her.

“EMMA!”

The man saw her. His mouth opened in a silent scream.

She had to help him.

Emma hurled herself into the storm.

She was nothing but air. She was stirring, shattering, waiting, hoping, spinning, crying out, she was screaming, oh God she was screaming, thrusting, grasping, wanting, hurting, oh it hurt, it hurt, it burned like the day she had first been born, like the day she had made herself all over again. She pushed and she pushed and her arms were aching and there was blood, there was so much blood, but she felt something solid in front of her and her fist closed around it.

The dagger.

It was white hot to touch but she couldn’t let go, her hand was locked. It was all over her arms. Her wrists erupted in angry, crimson welts and she screamed, and she could see Regina, wide-eyed and fearful. She turned, she turned, she turned. She could see Mary Margaret. She turned, she turned, she turned. There was David, standing now, shouting, she couldn’t hear what he was shouting, his legs were braced, he was readying himself for a fight.

Where was the man?

Was he okay?

Unseen hands grasped at her skull, tugged and everything was a blur of colour except everything was white, and she gasped, and it hurt, and she couldn’t release the dagger, and the voice was telling her to let go, to let go, to let go.

Come, it hissed, listen –

She was being unmade.

And then she saw Killian.

She saw Killian and her heart hurt. She wanted and she wanted and she wanted and then she wanted more, she wanted everything from him, she wanted everything for him, he was yelling but she couldn’t hear him, and she wanted nothing more than to hear his voice and beckon him inside, yes, yes, every voice was screaming yes, bring him in, bring him in, bring him in –

No.

No one else.

Not one more person.

She wrenched her focus back onto Killian, she could see him ready to pounce, to throw himself into the hurricane and follow her, always to follow her, to the end of the world or time and –

And she loved him.

The darkness would not claim one more person. Not a single person, for as long as she was alive.

And she was alive.

She opened her mouth.

“Killian – Killian, don’t –!”

Her cry made him hesitate – and it was enough to stop him in his tracks.

It was enough, he was safe, and she let go.

-/-

As suddenly as the storm had struck, it was gone.

Gone was the wind, the noise, the charged black lightning, and the stench of something rotted, something old, something wanting. The dagger clattered down onto the ground.

David was the first to recover, breathing heavily, eyes wild.

“Where’s Emma? Where – where did she go?”

Over and over, Emma’s final cry rang like crystal in Killian’s ears.

Killian – Killian, don’t –!

It had all happened so fast.

He could still feel her hand slipping free from his grasp.

He’d been ready to jump in after her, if he’d been just a second quicker, if he hadn’t hesitated – why? Why did he hesitate?

Killian – Killian, don’t –!

Because he’d seen her eyes, black as charcoal, her wrists stained crimson. He didn’t think he would ever forget it; especially since it had made him falter. Since it had possibly cost them everything.

Killian tumbled forwards, reaching blindly for the dagger. He didn’t want to look at it, but he was sure he knew what he would find. The others were slowly coming back to their senses, recovering from the suddenness of something that had been very much there, suddenly not being there, and realising along with David that Emma had vanished. That Emma had let go of his hand. That Emma had screamed at him not to follow and he had obeyed.

In the second where everything had mattered most, he had been afraid, and he had obeyed.

“Bring her back.” It was David again, but Killian could scarcely even hear him. He felt like he was speaking to him through fog. “You bring her back right now, Jones, or I swear –!”

Killian never found out what he would swear to. His attention was fixed on the dagger, and he heard the breath escape the others once they realised what it was he was looking at.

The name engraved across the blade had changed. Liam Jones had gone.

He could still feel her hand slipping free from his grasp.

The dagger, glittering in the dark, now read Emma Swan.

In his bones, he already knew the devastating truth, even as his soul railed against it.

Killian – Killian, don’t –!

Emma was gone.

#jay writes #a house is never still #cs role reversal #cs fic #cs ff #captain swan #cs au #cs halloweek #killian jones #emma swan #i hope you guys enjoy this!

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cloudphillips · 4 years ago

Text

There Is A Place

Summary: A place where Seungwan and Joohyun could be free.

The kingdom of Daegu was in high spirits as citizens of different ranks chattered on excitedly when they went about their day. The market was even more crowded than usual and the merchants not only to sold their wares much cheaper than the usual amount but also added a little bit of gossip with every successful purchase made. Delighted squeals and laughter could be heard from the street children near the local pastry shop since the baker decided to give away his baked goods for free. Some people from neighboring kingdoms travelled far and wide just to hear the news. The academy was void of students since the headmaster announced that classes would be suspended in favor of celebrating this momentous occasion.

The princess was betrothed. She was to marry the prince of Seoul.

It was the king himself who announced the engagement. Standing by the balcony of the royal palace alongside his wife, he had his subjects gathered in the square to declare that there will be a matrimony of royal blood. The union of the two kingdoms will bring peace and prosperity for the future to come.

The citizens were beyond ecstatic that they could barely find the motivation to do mundane tasks. Instead, they chose to dance on the streets and sing praises to those who were willing to listen. Everyone was in a festive mood. Today was a special day. It might as well be considered as a holiday.

Although, the palace was more subdued. The imperial guards patrolled the halls with marked vigilance, checking for any unusualities and occasionally helping the palace staff with the heavy lifting. Every once in a while, a servant would rush along the corridors carrying trays of food, loads of books and numerous expensive gifts just to cater the whims of every noble. The king was currently having a council with his most trusted advisors to discuss matters on how to improve the economy while protecting the land borders of Daegu. Meanwhile, the queen basked in the well-wishes and congratulations from the courtiers when they talked about the engagement as they drank tea in the gazebo.

Everyone was happy with the prospect of marriage.

All except for one.

On an empty field just a few yards away from the castle wall, there was a worn down path that wound through a series of twists and turns which eventually led to the forest. Graveled stones and dried twigs soiled the ground and the path opened deeper into the wild. The tall canopy of trees provided shade against the blaring heat of the sun and kept the place relatively cool. Birds and other wild animals sang a music only mother nature could know. The long twisted path eventually led to a clearing, big enough for a small pond to fit in the middle, and a variety of flowers that grew untamed with the lush green grass.

As soon as Seungwan arrived at the clearing, a small, almost heavy, sigh escaped her lips. She was drenched in sweat and tried to catch her breath. Her short blonde locks clung to her neck in sticky waves and her listless brown eyes searched the calming waters of the pond for comfort. It was a good thing that she wore a loose white linen shirt today since it allowed room for movement and felt a little less constricting. Removing her ragged boots and bending down to fold her black trousers, Seungwan walked towards the pond and gently dipped her feet in its cool blue waters. She closed eyes and let the calm wash over her weary soul but even that wasn't enough to quench the heaviness in her heart.

Seungwan left as soon as she heard. The news of the princess' betrothal left her numbed with shock. Her mind at lost for words and she didn't know what to do. She needed to escape to a place where she wouldn't feel trapped. So she ran to the forest until her feet ached and her lungs burned. She ran until her eyes blurred with tears that watered the ground like droplets of rain.

The princess was to be married to the prince of Seoul in two months’ time. It was expected since she was in the appropriate age but it was too soon and Seungwan wasn't quite sure if she was ready for that... If her heart was ready for the inevitable... if she was ready to spend the rest of her life being incomplete. Seungwan closed her eyes and felt her soul resonate within. This was bound to happen. She had seen this for a long time coming and she had no right to object for she was merely a servant. Their worlds were heavens apart.

But why can't her heart accept that?

"I thought I'd find you here."

Seungwan's heart raced once she heard that familiar lilting voice and she quickly jumped to her feet. She smoothed out her clothes to a more presentable manner before bowing deeply.

"Your royal highness." Her eyes stared hard at the ground and she didn't dare lift them in fear that her heart might betray her. It was already traitorous enough as it is.

"I told you not to call me that Seungwan-ah." The princess sounded annoyed at the honorific. She did hate formality especially coming from the little servant girl. Seungwan could just picture the intense glare emanating from her eyes. "Look at me."

But the servant girl made no move to look at her, opting to study the ground instead.

A beat of silence.

"Please."

It was her little plea and Seungwan didn't have it in herself to deny the princess from her wishes. She swallowed the lump in her throat and prepared herself to become undone.

As usual, the princess took her breath away.

There she was, in all her stunning glory, wearing that ocean blue summer dress that emphasized her smooth pale skin, sporting that soft gentle smile she always reserved for Seungwan. Her raven black hair tumbled past her shoulders in silky waves and there was an excited glint in her chocolate brown eyes as she pulled the servant girl into a swift embrace. Seungwan found it difficult to breathe, much less even think. Her touch burned Seungwan's skin and left tendrils of fire in its wake. After all this time, the princess still had the same effect on Seungwan.

"Joohyun." Seungwan whispered breathlessly and lifted her trembling hands to return the princess' embrace. Sanity has long left her now and she wondered if Joohyun had some sort of magic within her... If she somehow bewitched Seungwan with the charm she wielded.

But of course, Joohyun wasn't a sorceress. She wasn't some kind of mythical being that existed in the minds of people. She was very real and beautifully flawed and Seungwan loved her for that.

Joohyun lingered for a moment and Seungwan thought she saw her features turn forlorn the second she pulled away but quickly dismissed it as one of her imaginations. The princess straightened her composure before a mischievous smirk graced her lips. Seungwan knew that look. She'd been the recipient of that smirk too many times throughout the course of their friendship and it was never a good sign for it spelled trouble.

"I'm supposed to be having tea with the court ladies today but I feigned sickness and somehow managed to avoid my responsibilities." Joohyun seemed quite proud of herself and Seungwan could only frown in disapproval as she watched the princess slip out of her heels, hike up her dress and dip her feet into the cool waters just as Seungwan did earlier. "Now I'm free to spend my afternoon with you."

That didn't seem wise but Seungwan knew better than to scold her. Joohyun was as stubborn as it gets. Arguing with her was completely pointless because she rarely ever listens.

Seungwan settled beside Joohyun and the princess proceeded to recount how her day went. How she was caught in a dull conversation with the ambassador of Seoul during breakfast. How she couldn't escape her lessons about Daegu history and most of all, how she tried hard to convince her father to call off the engagement.

"I've told him many times but he wouldn't listen. Marriage isn't what I want." A scowl marred her elegant features when the princess slapped the water in frustration, sending splashes of fluid in all the wrong directions. Seungwan thought that anger didn't suit Joohyun. "It's like my opinions don't even matter."

The servant girl could only patiently listen to the princess as she droned on and on about her frustrations. She stared at the princess the whole time not only because she liked hearing the sound of her voice but mostly because Joohyun was being herself. She didn't play the game of pretenses when she was around the servant girl. She would always let her guard down and allow Seungwan to witness the vulnerable parts of herself that she didn't let others see.

To Seungwan, Joohyun was just Joohyun.

The same Joohyun whom she grew up with and treated her like family. The same Joohyun who snuck out at night to visit Seungwan in the dungeons after being punished for accidentally spilling wine on a noble's trousers. The same Joohyun who defended her when she was accused of stealing food from the kitchens.

"Seungwan-ah?"

The servant girl was completely immersed in her thoughts that she failed to notice the change in Joohyun's mood. The princess had gone very quiet.

"What if my heart longs for another?"

That statement alone pulled Seungwan out of her reverie and she stuttered out a reply. "W-What do you mean?"

"What if I want-" Joohyun was looking at her now, staring directly into her eyes in search for something, and Seungwan was unable to look away. For a moment, she was afraid... terrified that Joohyun would see through her barriers and discover the feelings Seungwan had long kept hidden. "-to marry whom I choose?"

The air was thick with tension and Seungwan tried to lighten atmosphere by cracking a joke. "Why? Is the great princess having a hard time asking someone out?" She knew she was being a coward but her heart can't - wouldn't - shouldn't hope. The path to Joohyun was a lonely road and wishing for the impossible would only end in heartache.

The smile on Joohyun's lips didn't quite reach her eyes and Seungwan's attempts to lighten the atmosphere backfired. Both of them lapsed into an awkward silence, with the princess gazing at the sky and the servant girl fidgeting listlessly in her seat.

"Why did you come here?" The princess asked after a while.

"Oh. I just came here to think." Seungwan shrugged noncommittally, trying to brush it off like it was nothing, when in reality she came here to forget.

To escape the reality that the love of her life was betrothed to another man.

To accept the fact that the more Seungwan yearned for her, the more she realized that they could never be together.

The princess furrowed her brows and pursed her lips into a thin line, a clear indicator that she didn't quite believe the servant girl. "So you came to our place? You only ever come here when something's bothering you." The intensity of her eyes was enough to melt away whatever control was left in Seungwan.

Our place

For this little clearing by the forest had become their sanctuary ever since they were children... their little safe haven that shielded them from the cruel world. This is the place where the magic occurs. This is the place where everything is possible. This is the place where Seungwan was free to love Joohyun in silence.

"Yes."

"But-" The princess tries to press further but the servant girl shook her head and kept silent.

"Let's just enjoy the moment." Seungwan found the courage to hold her hand and joined the princess in watching the skies.

She closed her eyes and dreamed of another life where Joohyun could be hers.

=============================================================================

Two weeks have passed since the announcement and now the kingdom of Daegu was preparing for the upcoming visit of the prince of Seoul. Banners of blue and silver hung on every house and stall and lanterns lit the cobbled streets. There was a shortage of red roses and the florist was at her wit's end trying to resupply her stock. A demand for heart-shaped cookies and chocolates caused the local baker to create more pastries. Expansions for the church were fully underway so as to accomodate the attendants from Seoul. Music could be heard from the academy since the students were tasked to be the lead choir for the welcoming ceremony. Artisans reknowned from far and wide, hired by the king, came to help decorate the plaza square.

Meanwhile, the palace was plunged into madness. Imperial guards were stationed at every exit and entrance, still observing for anything unusual while servants darted on and about the palace, scrubbing the walls immaculately clean, replacing old flowers from vases, dusting away dirt from large marbled statues, stripping off the soiled linens in each sleeping chamber and changing them into new ones. All the while still catering to the whims of every noble. The cook and his apprentices busied themselves in preparing the food and sometimes, a little servant boy would steal a freshly-baked muffin from the kitchens. The king had a private assembly with his trusted advisors to discuss how to strengthen Daegu's pact with Seoul while the queen made a quick visit to her royal tailor for her gown measurements.

Everyone seemed preoccupied for the special day.

And Seungwan wasn't exempted from that.

She was on stable duty and spent the whole day shovelling manure, cleaning the stalls and grooming horses. Once or twice, she was whisked away by the matron and ordered her to fetch some things from the market. Seungwan complied with every demand that was requested of her since it kept her from thinking about Joohyun. She hadn't been the same since the announcement. She spent her days lost and confused while at night, she could barely fall asleep. So in order to keep her mind off of things, Seungwan busied herself with work.

Maybe this way, she could stop dreaming the impossible.

Maybe this way, she could finally come into terms with the inevitable.

And maybe this way, she could learn to let Joohyun go.

But why was there a constant ache in her heart that refused to disappear?

The servant girl sighed and continued brushing on the horse's mane. She just finished removing the saddle from the animal's back when Johnny, one of the Imperial guards, appeared out of nowhere and shoved a small piece of parchment to her face. "Oi Seungwan! A letter for you." He marched off before Seungwan could ask any questions. Cautiously unfolding the paper, Seungwan immediately recognized the elegant script written in cursive.

It was a letter from Joohyun asking her to come visit her chambers tonight.

Seungwan furrowed her brows. What did the princess want?

No matter. She'll find the answers sooner.

For now, she has to finish cleaning the stables.

When the night came, Seungwan snuck out of the servants' quarters and crept along the dark hallways of the castle. A guard almost caught her lurking around the throne room but thankfully she managed to evade him. Standing outside the princess' chambers, she knocked gently on the mahogany doors. There was no answer. She was about to knock again when the door opened and the princess abruptly grabbed her collar and dragged her into the room. Joohyun pushed her against the wall before securing the locks to her chamber. "Did anyone see you?" And when the servant girl shook her head, the princess sighed in relief and slowly wrapped Seungwan in a tight embrace.

Seungwan felt her throat closed up and mouth go dry when she noticed their apparent closeness. Her mind had a hard time recovering its sanity and it also didn't help that the fine lace robes Joohyun was wearing did nothing to cover her undergarments. The valleys of her breasts and the curves of her hips were tantalizing. It was a sin to look at her and Seungwan should be punished for having such lewd thoughts about the princess. She held her breath in the hopes of preventing herself from being overwhelmed but it was hopeless. She was already intoxicated with Joohyun's scent.

"I was beginning to think that you wouldn't come." Joohyun buried herself on Seungwan's neck and breathed in her sweet fragrance. The servant girl was suddenly painfully aware of the fact that they were by themselves... alone... in the princess' chambers. She imagined the scandal it would cause if someone discovered them. "I missed you."

Seungwan felt her breath hitch. She tried hard, tried to resist whatever enchantment the princess cast upon her, but she was fighting a losing battle and her traitorous heart wouldn't stop beating Joohyun's name. In the end, she stopped fighting and eventually succumbed to her touch.

She allowed herself to enjoy the simple pleasure of having Joohyun in her arms.

Spare me a little taste of forever with you.

Her grip on Joohyun tightened.

Just this once.

"I missed you too."

The embrace lasted for a minute longer before Joohyun took her by the arm and led her towards the bed. Together, they rested on the soft mattress and silken sheets. Seungwan kept her distance but the princess had no concept of personal space and simply scooted closer and draped her arms around the servant girl. Seungwan wondered if she had always been this masochistic. Wanting someone she can't have and wishing for the impossible felt more like self-destruction but she was happy with it. "So what did you want to talk about?"

Then Joohyun asked a rather unusual request. "Tell me your dreams."

Seungwan thought for sure that she had stopped breathing. The answer was right there, almost at the tip of her tongue, but she didn't dare say it because she was terrified of giving it meaning once she voices it out loud.

To spend my life loving you.

Seungwan was a coward because only a coward would choose to love in silence. "I want to find the place where I could be free."

"Have you found that place already?" The princess traced random patterns on her arm and the servant girl found herself lying again.

"No."

Yes.

Right here beside you.

A moment of silence passed and Seungwan cherished every minute of it for this might be the last time she'd ever feel Joohyun's touch.

"Seungwan-ah?"

"Yes princess?

"Why is it that the burden I carry flies away when I'm in your arms?"

Seungwan suddenly lost the ability to speak and the wild beating of her traitorous heart felt difficult to control. This is what those poems authored by dead men must feel like. To long for someone you cannot have. To have all love contained within you and have no one to give it to. To have your soul wither away. This is what must it feel like to slowly die inside.

She wondered if this was the God's punishment for her because she loved a woman. She loved her best friend. Maybe this was His punishment for her, for not knowing her place, for asking the impossible, for thinking that she and Joohyun could ever be equals.

The princess had already fallen asleep by the time Seungwan could find the courage to respond and as she watched Joohyun sleep contently in her arms, she finally found an answer. If the heavens wanted to punish her then she would gladly face its wrath because Joohyun was worth the sacrifice.

And there was no greater sacrifice than laying down her life for the one that she loved.

"Sweat dreams Hyun." Seungwan gently caressed the princess' cheek and planted a soft kiss on her head.

Her eyes suddenly fluttered to Joohyun's mouth and for a moment, she felt the deep-seated longing to kiss her. Seungwan wanted to taste those soft lips and ingrain Joohyun's essence deep into her mind forever so that when the time comes when Joohyun finally leaves, Seungwan will have something to remember her by.

Seungwan wanted her. God, she loved her.

She leaned closer until she could almost feel the warmth of Joohyun's breath brushing against her cheek. Seungwan traced the outlines of her lips, slow, gentle and even reverent, taking great care not to break Joohyun with her caress. She was unworthy to touch her this way. "Just this once."

If equal affection cannot be, let the more loving one be me.

She leaned closer and closer until their lips were only inches apart.

No. Stop! This is wrong.

Seungwan felt the tendrils of guilt wrap her heart. She took advantage of her best friend Joohyun. Sweet and kind Joohyun who trusted her with all her heart and yet Seungwan almost betrayed that trust by giving into her desires. Her love was not pure. Her love was dirty and tainted. The universe was right to punish her.

With an aching heart, she carefully extricated herself away from Joohyun. The servant girl felt disgusted with herself. Only a lowlife would take advantage of their best friend like that. What she did was unforgivable.

“Seungwan?” Joohyun stirred when she felt the warmth disappear and when she noticed Seungwan leaving her chambers, she grabbed hold of her arm and begged for her to stay. "Please stay with me until the sun rises."

Seungwan could never deny the princess so she relented to her wishes. She went back to bed and Joohyun wasted no time wrapping her in an embrace. She clung to Seungwan desperately as if her life depended on it and the servant girl found it difficult not to care.

"Don't go." Joohyun yawned when the remnants of sleep finally overtook her.

And as Seungwan laid in bed, her thoughts wandered to the sleeping woman in her arms. There was no going back now. She had fallen way too deep. Her gaze landed on the ceiling and she sighed.

"You're making it hard for me to let you go."

=============================================================================

Prince Bogum of Seoul and his entourage finally arrived to the kingdom of Daegu and the citizens celebrated his coming. A ceremony was held at the palace square to laud this joyous occasion. The royal family, along with the trusted advisors and nobles, received him and gave him a warm welcome. Seungwan was one of the onlookers, moving through the crowd to get a better glimpse of the prince. She was supposed to be in the palace, cooking in the kitchens and doing the laundry, but she snuck out and joined the crowd. Of course, she'll surely be punished by the matron but she can worry about that later. For now, she's focused on knowing the man who'll be taking Joohyun's hand in marriage.

"I welcome you, Prince Bogum of Seoul, to the illustrious kingdom of Daegu." The king beamed proudly as he swept his hand over his beloved nation. Behind him, the queen and princess stood graceful and elegant. Joohyun was great at acting calm. If she was nervous then she was certainly doing a good job at hiding it.

"The stories I've heard about your kingdom doesn't do much justice. I thank you for giving me this honor of witnessing for myself the greatness of Daegu your majesty." Prince Bogum bowed respectfully. "I come bearing gifts!" With a simple flick of his hand, his servants emerged bringing caskets filled with gold and fine linen. The king seemed quite pleased with his thoughtful gesture.

The prince was strikingly handsome with his charcoal black hair neatly styled to perfection and fair skin unblemished by scars. His chocolate brown eyes sparked with youth and he carried himself with poise and vigor that immediately charmed the king and his regents. Prince Bogum seemed like a respectable man. Anyone would be lucky to have him.

"I'd like you to meet my daughter, Princess Joohyun of Daegu, whom you'll be marrying in a few weeks' time." The king gestured for his daughter to come forward and proceeded to introduce her. Seungwan could tell that Bogum was rendered awestruck by her beauty. She could relate to him. After all, Joohyun always took her breath away.

"I've heard tales of your beauty princess and it's such a blessing to finally witness it for myself. I am a truly lucky man to have you as my wife." He stumbled upon his words while trying to greet her and everyone seemed to find it a little endearing.

Everyone except Joohyun.

She remained passive the whole time.

"A pleasure to meet you too my prince." There was a subtle frown on Joohyun's features when the prince gently kissed her hand.

Seungwan observed the interaction with a growing heaviness in her heart. Prince Bogum was perfect. He had perfect hair, perfect eyes and perfect smile. He would be the future king of Seoul. He would be good for Joohyun. They would get married, yield beautiful offsprings, have a family and live their lives in utmost happiness. Meanwhile, Seungwan could only watch from afar as she tries to mend the pieces of her broken heart.

This sudden realization struck Seungwan like lightning and she suddenly found it difficult to breathe. She felt trapped, constricted, and the crowd was suffocating her. She needed to escape, somewhere far away from here.

Joohyun scanned the crowd and was surprised to find Seungwan amongst the people. Her surprise turned to worry when she noticed the tears threatening to spill from Seungwan's eyes. The princess moved to approach the servant girl but she was stopped by her mother, who gave her warning look and urged her to strike a conversation with Prince Bogum.

And Joohyun stayed rooted in her spot as she helplessly watched Seungwan escape to the forest.

...

The sun had set and it was already night time when the sound of jovial music and laughter could still be heard throughout the whole kingdom. The people were still celebrating the festivities and sang songs on the streets. The local pub was handing out free drinks, much to everyone's delight, and provided a place for merriment. The Baker was too drunk from the ale to notice that his pastries were slowly getting eaten by the children who visited his shop. An imperial guard left this post and started flirting with the local florist. A ball was held in the palace in honor of the prince's arrival. The king and queen were having a merry chat with Prince Bogum and courtiers wasted no time socializing with the guests from Seoul and getting into their good graces. The servants busied themselves by ensuring that the whole event ran smoothly while catering to the whims of every noble.

Everyone was having a good time.

Everyone except Seungwan.

The servant girl didn't join the merriment because she didn't feel like celebrating. She stayed by the clearing to drown herself in solitude. Prince Bogum's arrival felt like being struck by the cold harsh truth and Seungwan was far from prepared to face reality.

She can't, not yet.

She still needed time.

Time for her to let go.

She laughed hollowly, a strange broken sound that echoed through the night, when feelings of despair started to settle in. What good will wanting Joohyun do? She was a princess and Seungwan was a servant. Even then, she knew that they could never be together. There was nothing she could give Joohyun. She had no riches, no kingdom and she wasn't even of noble birth. Seungwan could only offer her heart but it wasn't enough, it will never be enough. Prince Bogum was perfect and he would be able to provide Joohyun the things Seungwan never could. They would be happy together.

So why can't her heart accept that?

"I knew I'd find you here."

Seungwan would recognize that voice anywhere. There seems to be no escaping the princess now, is there? She sighed in defeat and bowed deeply in reverence.

"Your highness." The servant girl could barely look directly into her eyes. Seungwan never displayed this kind of formality towards Joohyun in their long years of friendship but it needed to be done. A line was needed to be drawn in order to remind Seungwan of her rank.

"I thought I told you not to call me that." Joohyun wasn't at all annoyed but she did sound a little sad. She took a step towards Seungwan but the latter backed away. She didn't bother to hide the hurt she was feeling. "Did something happen? I saw you by the square earlier and I wanted to come to you but you ran away." Joohyun reached out to caress her cheek but Seungwan stepped out of her reach.

"This needs to stop." The finality in Seungwan's tone terrified her completely. It's as if she was about to say something drastic and Joohyun didn't know if she was prepared to handle it.

"S-Stop what?"

"This friendship. It needs to stop." What was going on? Why was Seungwan acting like this?

"But why?" Joohyun's heart ached and her tears threatened to spill. "We've known each other for so long. Why suddenly end this beautiful bond that we have?"

"Exactly that. We've known each for so long that I forget myself when I'm around you Joohyun. You're a princess while I'm merely a servant. It's time you start treating me like one." Seungwan wanted to take back the words she said but the damage had been done and Joohyun was already fighting back tears.

"What are you saying?" Joohyun told herself not to cry. She would not cry, not for her, not for Seungwan.

"I'm saying that no friendship should ever exist between us." Seungwan didn't dare look into her eyes.

"So are you just gonna throw away all those years of us being together? Is that it?" For the first time in Seungwan's life, she became the recipient of Joohyun's harsh glare and it saddened that it had to end this way.

No. She should not feel remorse now. She was only doing this for Joohyun's sake.

Be strong Seungwan.

"Yes."

Then she left and fought hard not to look back.

=============================================================================

The kingdom of Banora was in a solemn mood. The palace was decorated with white roses and ribbons while lanterns hung on every household. The streets were deserted and no merchant could be seen selling their wares in the market. The local bakery and flower shop were closed. Children, together with their parents, dressed in white formal attire gathered in the square to witness the holy matrimony of Prince Bogum and Princess Joohyun. The imperial guard were stationed at every entrance to ensure the safety of the event. The king and queen and the rest of the nobles settled inside the church, all hushed in excitement as they prepared for the ceremony to begin. Prince Bogum stood by the altar and tried to calm his nerves as he waited for the princess to arrive.

Seungwan stood by the entrance of the palace with the white chariot parked behind her. Dread was creeping to her bones and she was starting to think that this was a bad idea. As punishment for having skipped her chores, the matron thought that it would be fitting for Seungwan to safely escort the princess towards the chariot where the rest of the handmaidens would be waiting. She wondered if this was the universe's cruel way of punishing her, to see the love of her life for one last time before she was whisked away to marry someone else.

But the servant girl thought that it was only appropriate. No amount of punishment could take away the hurt she inflicted on Joohyun.

The sound of sharp heels hitting the floor signaled the princess' arrival and Seungwan looked up from her feet to see Joohyun looking as breathtaking as ever. Flowers adorned her head and her raven locks were pulled into a braid. She was wearing a silk lace white gown that clung to her body like a second skin and the diamonds resting on her neck couldn't compare to the sheer magnitude of her beauty. She held in her hand a bouquet of white roses and Seungwan couldn't help but think that Joohyun looked so beautiful in white.

The second their eyes met, a fond, almost melancholic, smile graced Joohyun's lips when she tentatively approached Seungwan. "I never thought I'd find you here." She stopped just a few inches away but she was close enough for Seungwan to revel in her beauty.

"I'm here to escort you to the chariot your highness." The servant girl swallowed the lump in her throat before bowing reverently.

"Right... I'm the princess after all." Joohyun sounded helpless and Seungwan berated herself for causing this mess in the first place. She rose to her full height and their eyes met.

There was a beat.

A moment of silence.

Both of them stared at each other, committing every detail into memory, realizing that this would be the last, knowing that things would never be the same again.

A beat.

Silence.

And Seungwan decided that she was tired of denying her heart.

"Run away with me."

Joohyun's eyes went wide and she stuttered out. "W-What?"

"Run away with me." Seungwan found her courage and declared the love she had long kept hidden. "We'll go somewhere far away, just you and me, and start a new life. You can be whatever you want to be and I-" She let out a shaky breath. Her hands wouldn't stop trembling. "-I will spend the rest of my life making you happy."

"Why?" Joohyun couldn't stop the tears from falling. It was the first time that Seungwan saw her cry. "Why did you have to say this now? Just when I'm about to get married."

"I just thought-" Seungwan tried to explain but the princess cut her off.

"I waited for you Seungwan! Ever since we were children, I always adored you. I was even willing to forsake the crown for you! But when I already made up my mind, you decide to profess your undying love and hope that it would somehow change a thing?" Joohyun shook her head in disappointment. "You are a cruel person Son Seungwan."

"I just thought that you should know. I'm sorry if it took me long enough." Seungwan tried to wipe away Joohyun's tears but caught herself at the last minute. She had no right to touch the princess, not after all the pain she inflicted upon her.

"I have a duty to my people Seungwan." The princess looked resolute and there was finality in her voice and just like that, Seungwan knew that this was the end. She had resigned herself to a life without Joohyun.

This is what dying must feel like.

She gathered her courage and flashed Joohyun a smile, though it was a little strained. "Meet me at our place if you ever change your mind." She gathered the princess into her arms and inhaled her scent for one last time. "I will wait for you there."

Even if you never come

Joohyun trembled against her and the servant girl tried her best to comfort her. The princess held on to Seungwan tightly, desperately, as if her life depended on it, then softly whispered into her ear.

"My heart will always belong to you."

And when they pulled away, Joohyun bid her a final farewell before heading to the chariot and Seungwan could only watch as the love of her life walked away.

Maybe in another world, their lives wouldn't be so different.

Maybe in another world, Seungwan would be the one that makes Joohyun happy.

Maybe in another world, they'll both be free

But not in this world.

In this world, Joohyun was a princess and Seungwan was a servant.

In this world, she was betrothed to another

In this world, they could never be together.

It's time her heart finally accepted that.

...

Seungwan grunted in exhaustion as soon as she saw the clearing. After the chariot drove off, she quickly gathered her things and ran to the forest. The pond's clear waters was inviting but no amount of comfort could alleviate the ache in her chest.

Then the sound of the cathedral bells echoed through the whole kingdom and dozens of white doves soared to the sky. Seungwan released the shaky breath she had been holding.

It was over. The wedding was over.

Joohyun will never come.

She was all alone now.

For now, Seungwan has decided that she will run away, away from the prison that once felt like a home, to chase her dreams and find the place where she could be free. She gazed at the clouds above and the image of Joohyun flashed into her mind and made her smile. Her friend did love the sky.

"Someday, I'll learn how to live without you."

Seungwan uttered her final prayers before she stood up to leave. Just as she slung her pack over her shoulders, there was a distinct sound of hooves pounding against the ground and the shrill whine of an animal. She turned around, only to be rendered speechless at the sight of Joohyun riding on horseback, all happy and free, forgetting the burden of the crown that she used to carry, laughing in delight as she called out her name. "Seungwan!"

Seungwan couldn't believe her eyes and stood rooted in place. She didn't dare move and wouldn't even dare breathe. This is what dreams must feel. After dismounting off the horse, Joohyun approached the stunned girl with a single purpose. Her eyes burned with intensity when she grabbed Seungwan's collar and pulled her in for a kiss.

It was a kiss that contained worship and reclamation. It was a kiss that shattered the distance between heaven and earth. It was a kiss that brought two different worlds together as one.

In this kiss, Joohyun wasn't a princess and Seungwan wasn't a servant.

No more crowns and titles.

In this kiss, they were equals.

No more barriers and inhibitions.

In this kiss, Joohyun was just Joohyun and Seungwan was just Seungwan.

When Joohyun pulled away, tears cascaded down her cheeks as she gave Seungwan the promise of forever.

"I'd go anywhere with you."

#red velvet #red velvet scenario #wenrene #irene #wendy #seulgi #yerim #joy #royal au #childhood friends #angst #fluff

14 notes · View notes

falseroar · 5 years ago

Note

Maybe 3 with JJ and Wilford? :D

((One “How hard can baking a cake be?” with JJ and Wilford coming up! I’ll admit, the idea of these two in a kitchen together made me smile. Sorry it took so long!))

“So do you have all the flavors?”

Jameson Jackson jumped and spun around, one hand to his heart, a speech slide appearing between him and the fluorescent pink and yellow man as if some kind of defense. “Jeepers! I didn’t hear your knock at the door!”

Wilford frowned and waved the slide away before breaking into a manic grin. “Come now, who needs doors to get anywhere?”

“…Most people, I would think.” Jameson hid his step back from the man by leaning against the kitchen counter. “Why are you here, Wilford?”

Wilford, in a rare moment of awareness, tilted his head past the slide to give the other man a suspicious stare. “You know, for some reason I’m getting the sense that you’re not super comfy with my being here. But that’s just ridiculous, of course!”

Jameson frowned and pointed a finger at him. “Ridiculous?! You’ve turned a gun on me before, not to mention my friends!”

Wilford shrugged. “Existential crisis, happens to everybody! Besides, I’ve turned a gun on everyone at least once, it’s kind of my thing.”

“The last time we were in a house together, you tried to hunt me down like some kind of animal!”

“Ah.” Wilford paused and said, “In my defense, you did have that Antiwhatsit hanging around in your head. Plus, I kind of hoped you would have forgotten about that.”

“…Fair enough.”

Wilford beamed at him and moved toward the counter, only to be stopped short by another speech slide.

“But that doesn’t answer my question.”

Wilford read the words and turned toward him. “Which was…?”

“Why are you here?”

“Why, to bake a cake of course! Didn’t you get my message?” Wilford peered around Jameson to look at the flour, eggs, and other materials carefully arranged on the counter beside several bowls and pans. “Or do you always have baking supplies out and ready to go? Because I thoroughly approve if so.”

Seeing Jameson’s baffled expression, Wilford sighed and placed his hands on the gentleman’s shoulders. “JJ. Jameson Jackson. Jamieboy. J. Jonah Jameson—”

“Not my name—”

“Shush!” Wilford slapped a finger over JJ’s mouth, making the speech slide that appeared cut off and flimsier than the others. “Have you, or have you not, noticed that these days the others are a bit down in the mouth? They’re not going out, keeping away from other people—”

“You mean because people are supposed to be staying home and not breaking quarantine?” Jameson gave Wilford and the door a meaningful look, for all the good it did.

“Yes, yes, that’s what Dr. Iplier keeps telling me. That is, when he isn’t working himself to the bone at the hospital. Your doc’s doing the same thing, isn’t he?”

Wilford’s eyes bored knowingly into JJ, who thought of how Dr. Schneeplestein had been coming home at odd hours just to disappear straight into his room or more often his study. It had been days since they’d spoken to each other despite living right down the hall from each other.

“And what about the others?” Wilford pressed. “How are they doing?”

“I admit, the mood has changed in the house,” Jameson said slowly. When Wilford waited for more, he sighed and added, “We’ve never gone this long without a visit from Master McLoughlin. Jackieboy has volunteered to run supplies for those in the neighborhood who need it, but staying inside so much is not his cup of jam. Poor Chase has lost all motivation to continue his video logs, while Marvin…”

He paused. Actually, outside of cancelling his shows for the foreseeable future, the magician hadn’t changed his habits that much. Not leaving his study for days at a time was perfectly normal behavior for him, although he was more willing to volunteer to go to the grocery store these days to save his brothers from having to do it.

Wilford nodded. “My boys are avoiding each other as well. The house hasn’t been this quiet in, well, ever, even Dark has noticed! Yan can’t go to school to see Senpai, Bim can’t find guests for his show, and you don’t know cabin fever until it affects the Ipliers.”

Jameson shuddered, not even wanting to imagine what that looked like. The Iplier house on a normal day was bad enough.

“Why, even Y/N has taken to self-isolating over at Mark and Amy’s place, and apparently taking them out for the occasional adventure in the middle of the night is ‘dangerous’ and ‘irresponsible’ all of a sudden.”

JJ considered pointing out it probably wasn’t “all of a sudden” but thought better of it.

“The point, my son of Jacks, is that they’re all too focused on the bad things, and don’t get me wrong, there’s plenty of it to go around these days.” Wilford threw an arm around Jameson’s shoulder and spoke in a low, conspiratorial tone. “But you and me? We’ve been through this before, haven’t we? And we know the secret: this too will pass. We’ll get there, eventually. But until then, we need to get the others’ spirits up!”

“And to do that, we’re going to bake a cake?” Jameson’s slide failed to convey his doubt, but he had to admit the idea had a kind of simple charm to it.

“Now you get it!” Wilford said, thumping him hard on the back before turning to the arrayed ingredients. “This is going to be great!”

“Well, I do have some baking experience,” Jameson said as he picked up a simple recipe for a yellow cake he had laid to the side earlier. “And as long as we follow the recipe—Hey!”

Wilford snatched the recipe from JJ’s hand and tore it up with a snort. “We don’t need no recipe! How hard can baking a cake be?”

Jameson sighed, his palm pushing the brim of his bowler hat so far up it threatened to fall off of his head. This was going to be a long day.

After convincing Wilford that hands did not make for good measuring devices, an argument that went on for far too long, they managed to get as far as mixing together the sugar and butter before Jameson tapped his chin.

“Next is the eggs, I think. Was it two or three—Ah! Maybe I should be the one to—”

Too late. Wilford had already picked up an egg and, with one hand, cracked it over the bowl before tossing the eggshell over his shoulder and into the trash can without a single glance.

“…What?” Wilford asked.

Jameson opened his mouth and then shut it, unsure of what to say as Wilford continued to expertly crack open the next two eggs.

“Between you and me, I think your popup word thingy isn’t working properly,” Wilford said in a carrying whisper. “You might want to get that looked at.”

That surprise might have explained why JJ wasn’t prepared for when Wilford picked up the electric mixer, but the shout that followed suggested that Wilford wasn’t too prepared either. Several minutes of panicked mixing later, they were left with a large bowl of batter and a kitchen coated with a light dusting of flour and splattered half-mixed batter.

Jameson tossed the mixer in the sink where it could do no more harm and said, “Well, that happened. How about I grease the pans while you get the oven going?”

Wilford chuckled. “Oh, no no no, I’m not allowed to touch any major appliance after what happened with the dishwasher. And the washing machine. And the little mishap with the TV.”

Jameson considered asking but thought better of it, instead with some embarrassment admitting, “I, um, haven’t fully mastered this newfangled machine. I usually ask one of the others to help me, but…”

He looked around the kitchen, which he would much rather the others not see in its current state.

Wilford considered for a moment and then grinned. “Don’t worry, I know exactly what to do.”

“Oh, hey Jameson,” you said, unable to hide your surprise when you saw the dapper gentleman on the other side of your phone screen. You didn’t even know he knew what FaceTime was, not when texting was just barely within his comfort zone. “What’s up?”

The screen went black as a shaky speech slide appeared, the white letters reading, “This is a bit embarrassing to ask, but…”

The speech slide was pushed out of the way as Wilford leaned into view. “Do you think you could talk our lad here through using a modern oven?”

“I—Wilford? What are you doing there?” You frowned. “Don’t you know how to use an oven?”

“According to Chef Iplier, no. Not even a little bit,” Wilford answered with a smile, not even a bit ashamed. “Well, are you up to it?”

“I…I guess? JJ, can you turn the camera toward the oven so I can see it? No, that’s the floor, up a little more—”

It took a few minutes, but you managed to talk Jameson through preheating the oven and how to set a timer, finishing with, “And that should be it. Just don’t forget to turn it off when you’re done—"

“Got it, thanks Y/N, love you,” Wilford said, abruptly turning the phone off before you could finish or answer him. “Say, Jamieboy, what do we have in the way of food dye?”

You stared at the blank screen on your end and laughed to yourself before starting a text to Marvin, typing, “You might want to get some fire suppression spells ready.”

The response came back a few seconds later: “Already on it.”

—

Some time and an assist from Marvin’s magic later, you were standing with several of the other Septic egos in their dining room, looking at the pair of cakes arranged there.

“They’re very…colorful,” Chase managed, but like the others he didn’t seem eager to move any closer to it.

That it was. Pink and blue swirled icing heavily coated both cakes in messy globs, both colors so bright as to almost appear capable of glowing in the dark.

“Well, don’t just stand there! Try a piece!” Wilford picked up the knife and everyone in the room flinched. “What?”

“Maybe I should do that,” Jackieboy said, gingerly taking the knife from Wilford’s hand, who just shrugged and backed out of the way. The superhero cut into one of the cakes, revealing the same colors had been used to dye the inside as well, and carefully meted out slices onto waiting plates.

“Those slices aren’t very big,” Wilford said doubtfully.

“We want to save some for Hen, right guys?” Jackie said, looking to you, Marvin, and Chase for backup and getting nods in return. A lot easier to be polite when you only had to get through a small piece.

Very aware that JJ and Wilford were watching you, you dipped a fork into your slice and took a hesitant bite.

“This is really good!” you said, unable to keep the surprise out of your voice.

Wilford beamed as the others shared your surprise and dug in, but you looked at Jameson who shrugged and leaned in to whisper with a slide only you could see.

“I may have baked something similar before. That, and I was able to salvage a couple of pieces from the recipe when Wilford wasn’t looking.”

You nodded, having experienced some of Wilford’s cooking before he was permanently banned from the kitchen in the Iplier house, as well as Mark’s kitchen and Ethan’s kitchen. And judging by the shriek from the other room, he was about to add another to that growing list.

“Meine Küche!”

“Schneep’s home,” Marvin said without looking up from his plate.

“Wow, look at that, it’s time for us to go,” Wilford said, grabbing the Iplier’s cake and your arm. “See you around, Jamieboy!”

“Wait, you can’t just leave me to—” Jameson’s speech slide stopped abruptly as he stared at the empty place where you and Wilford had been standing just a second ago, before it turned into a garble of censored swears. He turned to face the doctor storming into the room, mask dangling from one ear to reveal his anger, and attempted a smile.

“…Would you like a piece of cake?”

#markiplier #jacksepticeye #fluffy fools #wilford warfstache #jameson jackson #y/n #cake #quarantine references #fanfiction

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danetobelieve · 5 years ago

Text

Gru Voice: Light Bulb! || Orion and Winston

Winston and Orion had actually been hanging out a little more then Winston had expected. Especially now that the sleepwalking thing was solved, Winston found themselves with way more time and energy to devote to the old Scribe headquarters and they were getting pretty good at knowing their way around in the dark. But today, as they walked down the corridors of the old musty building, Winston hoped that it was the last time that they would have to do this in the pitch black, or even with a torch. Today was the day they fixed the electricity. “So, I am like 85% sure the problem is the fuse box and I have all the things I need to fix it, then I think it is important that rather then immediately running power through the whole building, we give the fuse box a break -- who knows when it last handled any amount of voltage -- and we just hook the power up to the library and your sleeping room.” They touched the long spool of power cable which was hanging off of their left shoulder. That was where that came in. “Once we’re sure that the fusebox doesn’t need any major work then we can definitely look at hooking up the whole building. Sound good?”

Orion was in a small state of disbelief. Winston had been at the Scribe headquarters multiple times since the night they had unintentionally wandered into the abandoned building. During the days, they would spend time in the library hanging out. But ever since the sun never rose, the Scribe Headquarters was practically uninhabitable. And that was saying something, considering the state that it had already been in. But Winston had offered to come and fix the electricity too. At this point Orion could only assume that the two could be considered… friends. Though with the help Winston was offering, Orion certainly needed to figure out a way to repay them, but wasn’t sure what he had to offer to Winston. “Just let me know what you need from me.” Orion smiled, not that Winston could really see. Both of their flashlights were angled forward as they made their way down the hallways and towards the room where the fuse box was. “I really can’t thank you enough. I really appreciate you offering to help with this.”

Raising an eyebrow gently, Winston guided the beam of their flashlight so that it somewhat lit the way that they were going. They made their way down a set of rickety steps that led down into an old basement, or was it a cellar? They weren’t really sure what the technical term for the subterranean entry way that they found themselves in. “For the moment, I need you to try and give me as much light as possible so that I can see what I’m doing, but I will definitely need some help later on.” Raising an eyebrow gently, Winston laid down their tool box and flipped it open to reveal a very well ordered set of tools that they’d received from their parents when they were eighteen. “Hey dude, you took me in when I was sleepwalking and you gave me somewhere to sleep and to stay, so I don’t really think you need to say thank you. This is just my way of saying thank you for that night.”

“Yeah. Of course. You got it.” Orion agreed with Winston. He would do whatever they told him needed to be done. Whatever it took to get this place up and running again. It still felt like a fever dream that in an hour or two this place could be lit up again. Maybe for the first time since the 80’s. It was it’s own small piece of history, that Orion may actually have a part of. He could help rebuild the Scribes, at least the White Crest chapter. And maybe… just maybe.. Winston would want a bigger part than just fixing the light. But that was still getting ahead of himself. For now, Rio focused on shining the light where Winston needed. “Oh.. well seriously that was nothing. Like I said, I don’t even own the place or anything. This is basically public property now. Besides the like magic entrance part.” He laughed nervously, the light shaking around the room with his laugh. “Oh sorry.” He calmed the laughter and focused the light again. “So uh… How long do you think this will take? Not that I’m rushing or anything. Just curious.” Although Orion did have to admit that the darkness was making him nervous despite him walking these same halls hundreds of times. Just the knowledge that the sun wasn’t going to rise in the morning made a difference.”

“Cool, I think we can manage this together.” Winston was convinced that they were going to be able to do a good job and really clean this place up. They knew that there were so many good things that they could do with this place and they knew that Orion wanted them to do it. It was a project that they could work on together and Winston really hoped that it would lead to them learning a whole host of new things. They were excited to learn everything that they could. They needed to learn more about the supernatural so that they could survive it and maybe one day they could help someone else and other people survive it. “Well, either way, you turned this place into somewhere that is really worth coming to and I want to help now, maybe we can make it our own place and this is just the first start.” Winston had to admit that the magical entrance was a big reason why they were convinced that there was now supernatural things and information that could be learned from this old, musty and somewhat decrepit building. “Well, hopefully it shouldn’t take us too long but if we have to replace a bunch of wiring and fuses then it might take more then tonight, but I guess it is time that we find out what we can do with this place first, y’know.” They kept working, occasionally asking Orion for a hand. “How did you work out how to get past the magic thing?” Winston asked, hoping that they could come up with a more feasible excuse for themselves other then, I used magic.

Despite Orion’s own fears, he had to believe that Winston was right. They could manage this together. It was an easy enough start. Couldn’t rebuild the Scribes without lights. If Winston could get this first step initiated than that could lead to all of the other changes that Orion had envisioned. He had never expected any of them to come to fruition though. “I- Well thank you.” Orion wasn’t great at taking compliments, especially from people he liked. Winston truly thought that this place was worth coming to. Despite the lack of electricity and the fact that Orion didn’t have much to offer besides old mattresses and junk food. It was… surprising. Orion wasn’t used to companionship just for the sake of friendship. He was used to ulterior motives or forced interactions. “Right, yeah of course. Well… finger’s crossed that this thing works on the first try. But if not that’s fine.” Orion watched, fascinated by Winston as they worked. Orion had always enjoyed learning about other people’s passions but watching it in action was something else entirely. Orion got to see that passion in action and liked see them so focused on the task at hand. He got caught up in the moment and barely registered Winston’s question, waiting for a few moments too long before finally realizing what had been asked. “Oh- Sorry I wasn’t focused. Uh, I didn’t, if I’m being honest. My uncle used to be a scribe here once upon a time. He showed me how to get in when I was a kid.” Since then, a few people had gotten into the building, but not many by Orion’s choice. The only person he had invited into the barrier was Kaden but just to grab him some information on demon’s. “You’re actually the first person I’ve actually shown how to get into the building. Since my uncle showed me, I mean.”

Winston was not thinking quite as big as Orion was. At the moment they just wanted to have a place to study the resources that had been made available to them at that moment. Either way, if this was where Orion was spending the majority of their time (as Winston suspected it was) then they were going to do everything that they could to make this a bit more habitable and getting the power back on was a good start with that. “If we can actually get the power working, maybe we can look at getting some solar panels to keep this stuff going.” Raising an eyebrow, Winston pulled a head torch from their bag and attached it to their forehead as they gazed at the fuses and kept working. “It probably, almost certainly won’t work for the first time, maybe not even the second or the third, but I guess there is still plenty of time to find out which it will be…” they took a deep breath before pulling a few wires out of the fusebox, looping them over one another and rewiring a few more selections of the fusebox. Placing the screwdriver in their mouth, they did their best to talk around it. “Yourf funcle washn’tf …” they looked around, “Ufh … fupermaturally inflined? If you knowr wharft I mrean...”

“Solar panels…” Orion hadn’t thought about that before. It would be the most efficient way to keep that place running. The main issue would be the cost. If only he could hunt down an older Scribe. The thing about them, at least from what his uncle had told him, was that a lot of them came from old Scribe families and old money. The type of people that can afford to build their own private archives in their homes. The type of people that maybe, just maybe, would fund solar paneling and remodeling for a young scholar trying to rebuild the Scribes. Orion just needed to figure out how to find that. “That’s a great idea! I’ll do some research on that.” When Winston broke the news that it most likely wouldn’t work on the first try, Orion could only shrug. “No worries. We’ll get it eventually. Well.. you will get it actually. But I’m here in spirit.” It didn’t bother him, not much. If nothing worked Orion may be slightly disappointed, but at least Winston was willing to try. It took a minute for Orion to decipher their next question, but began laughing nervously once he did. “Oh my uncle? He uh- well no. Not really. He was a human.” Orion wasn’t sure how to answer. Winston had made that first step, asking about the supernatural that both had seemingly assumed the other knew. Still, even with the knowledge finally about to come out, Orion couldn’t tell Winston that his uncle was a hunter. Winston would put to and two together and realize that Orion himself was a hunter. A monster. At least Orion wasn’t exactly lying. His uncle was a human. “He just studied the supernatural. That’s what the Scribes did.”

“Obviously the real problem is having the money to purchase the solar panels, and with all the darkness being a thing they wouldn’t work, so we’d have to invest in generators or something, but in some places if you’re careful you can actually sell electricity back to the power companies.” Winston had done a lot of reading about carbon neutral homes when preparing to do this, trying to put in the greenest installation that they possibly could. “Your moral support is invaluable,” Winston replied as they slotted another fuse into place and began to finish wiring in the main cables, running them to the breaker and making sure that everything was in place, “besides we’re nearly ready, everything is set up on my end so all you’ve got to do is flick the breaker, don’t get too excited, it isn’t like all the lights are going to come back on, just that one over here.” Winston stepped forward and pointed out one of the lights before screwing a new bulb into it. “If that works we can try hooking everything else up and make sure that it is all safe before running power to the library and then go from there. But for now, will you do the honours?”

“Yeah. True. But.. well I’ll cross that bridge when I get there I guess.” Thinking too much on it now would just send Orion spiraling into a panic attack. For all the planning Orion wanted to do, it was all too grandeur for him to take on right now. So he needed to calm down and take it one step at a time. For a moment, Orion closed his eyes and silently practiced some breathing techniques. He didn’t want to worry Winston by making any noise. But Winston’s words of encouragement helped ground him back to reality. This was the moment of truth. Rio went over to the switch, his hands practically shaking. A nervous mixture of excitement and fear. “This feels so weird. Never thought I’d do this.” He pressed his finger to the button and as gently and feebly as he could manage, flipped it over. His eyes closed on reflex, and for a moment stayed in darkness, but he slowly opened one eye to find that aside from the lights that Rio and Winston had on, another light in the corner had flicked on. “Holy…” Orion trailed off, the disbelief apparent in his voice. Finally, he found the ability to speak again. “Holy crap. It worked. You’re a miracle worker!” Orion jumped up and down excitedly, a grin illuminating at his face as he turned to look at Winston, “You did it!”

“Exactly, besides this darkness stuff won’t last forever, you know that nothing like this ever does.” Winston was perhaps just a little more concerned by what could possibly replace the darkness. It seemed like with each new development something new went wrong and somehow it was almost always worse then the one before. But they were trying to be more positive and that attitude wouldn’t help anyone. As Winston watched Orion flip the switch, they were pleased that it had worked. Nodding for them to flip it off again, Winston set about on the next stage of the plan. Hooking up the relevant rooms to the fusebox, they knew that this would take them a while in total. To get the building up and running to a decent standard. But for now they only needed to cover two rooms if they could get that down then they were sure that the rest wouldn’t be too difficult. “Hell yeah dude, we did it.” They grinned gently and clapped Orion on the shoulder. “Now I really need your help, can you start running these wires into the library and the sleeping room and we can set everything up, we’ll properly wire everything in later but for this part it doesn’t matter all that much if it doesn’t work out. But for now let’s keep going.”

Orion stared at light in amazement. It was amazing that something so dull and monotonous could hold such wonder. He had been staring at those dusty, unlit bulbs for months now. And now they were finally lit up. How ironic, that it would come when the literal sun wasn’t rising. “We did. We really did. Er- well you really did it. I held a flashlight.” And poorly, if Rio was being honest. He had been so caught up on his own things that he hadn’t been paying much attention. The light had been shaky, had moved off its target once or twice. He didn’t have much experience with manual labor, clearly. If this could even be considered that. “Right of course. I can do that.” He grinned back, leaping up and ready to do whatever Winston needed from him. “Got it- Like uh- You want me to physically take the wires into the library and sleeping room? Or uh- like from here?” He asked nervously, embarrassed that he had no idea what Winston was talking about.

“You’re so hard on yourself,” Winston replied dismissively, “this was a team effort and if you can’t see that then you might need to adjust your perspective. Besides, holding the flashlight was the hardest job.” They giggled a little at their own joke. They were in this together. Sure Winston had done all the hard work now, but Orion had already made a lot of progress making this place habitable. They had prioritised things similarly to Winston and they just generally needed to try and be a bit more positive with themselves. Grinning at the fact that they had given what was the most vague instructions they possibly could, Winston raised an eyebrow and adjusted their glasses. “You make a good point, I should probably just come with you, I just need to finish this and I’ll be done in here anyway.” They fiddled with the fusebox before closing it up again. “Come on, lead the way back to the library and we can see if we can actually read the books without having to squint too much.”

“Sorry-sorry” Orion sighed. He knew what Winston was saying. It was hard to break the habit. He was only as hard on himself as his family had been. Or maybe he had been ever harder than his family had been. “Working on taking compliments.” Maybe Evelyn was right, he did need practice. But Winston was nice and patient, which made for a good combination considering how frustrating it must be to hear Orion constantly berate himself. At least he imagined it must be frustrating. “Teamwork makes the dreamwork!” Orion gave Winston a thumbs up as they closed up the fuse box and got ready to head towards the library. Orion was happy to lead, in fact it was probably one of the happiest times that he walked down the dark, creepy hallway of the Scribe building. He was hopeful, something that he didn’t feel incredibly often. “So I guess it’s probably pretty obvious, but the Scribes did more than just take care of a library.” Orion admitted as the two turned a corner, “They were supernatural records keepers. It was their job to keep history on all the weird happenings around the world. Well, before they stopped obviously.” Winston had taken that first step. Asking about Rio’s uncle. The supernatural facts were out there so might as well put Rio’s cards on the table. Well, not all of his cards, but the Scribes for sure. Around one more corner and Orion opened up the door to the library, “Okay, let’s get started!”

“You’re all good dude,” Winston replied with a shrug, they knew how difficult it could be to get your confidence back and they weren’t about to push Orion too hard just when they were starting to become friends, “taking compliments is hard as fuck, so don’t sweat it. You just gotta desensitise yourself, to this stuff so I’ll just keep complimenting you until you’re bored of it.” Winston knew what it was like to be anxious and working alongside others, they were a very nervous person who was afraid of pretty much everything and in this world that wasn’t the best combination. “Aha!” Winston hooted with laughter, “exactly. Dreamwork does make teamwork.” Following after Orion, Winston made sure that the wire didn’t get tangled as it was spooled out and carefully kept it to one side so that they wouldn’t trip over it later on. They listened intently to Orion’s explanation. They had been CERTAIN that there HAD to be an organisation that was dedicated to keeping some sort of order to this thing. “So they were kind of keeping an eye on everything?” Winston was curious, they seemed to have a good chunk of influence so what the hell had happened? “Where are they now? What happened?” Raising an eyebrow as they entered the library. Winston pulled the chord after them and started getting to work. “Cool, so all of the lights are going to run through here, we just gotta set everything up and then test the lights to see which ones explode when we turn them on.” They were only slightly joking unfortunately.

“Between you and this really nice rich woman on Harris Island, you’re both going to compliment me to death.” Orion laughed, glancing back at Winston and smiling to let them know that despite the awkwardness, Orion did appreciate them and the compliments they shared. Orion may not be used to compliments or getting credit for many things, but with the friends he was finally starting to make, he would have to get used to it. Winston had questions about the Scribes, understandably, and Orion was happy to help however he was able to. Not that he was the leading expert on Scribes in this town, but considering nobody else had ever shown up at this place to reclaim it… he kinda was the leading expert on Scribes. “Exactly. They were… observing. That was what they did. They watched the world around them and recorded the weird things that they saw. So that it wasn’t lost.” He enjoyed that others seemed to be interested in learning about the Scribes as well “I don’t know what happened to this one specifically. Or why nobody has been back. But from what my uncle told me most of the chapters all over the world shut down. I don’t think it was like.. An overnight fall, but I have some theories.” He trailed off as Winston began working on the wiring and Orion thought about his theories. “I can’t tell if you’re joking or not” Orion laughed nervously, “But uh it’s fine. If it does. I can get more lightbulbs.”

Raising an eyebrow, Winston smiled. “Do you mean Evelyn?” they asked curiously, they’d run into each other and Winston was pretty sure they’d accidentally used magic in front of her. “Ok so they were academics of supernatural history then,” that made sense and Winston could immediately see the arguments for and against impartiality, “I guess that something must’ve happened that was really bad, but you know, I always love hearing a good conspiracy theory, even if they’re somewhat far fetched. But I don’t know anything about this and the more information I can gather on it the better you know. Maybe it’ll help in trying to get this place back to its former glory. “Unfortunately I’m only joking a little bit, I don’t know how old these bulbs are and how good condition they are in, it’s possible that the filament could just go as soon as we run any amount of current through them,” they stepped into the library and pointed at a large box, “but don’t worry, I’ve come prepared with fresh lightbulbs so that we can replace any that go.” They set to work, beginning to plug everything in and setting everything up. “Can you make sure these wires don’t get caught on anything?” they said, pointing to the trail leading out the door.

Orion looked at Winston curiously, “Uh yeah- you know her?” He shouldn’t have been surprised. Didn’t everyone in this town know each other? “Right, right. Small town. I shouldn’t be surprised anymore.” Orion had to admit this his theories were a little boring compared to the conspiracy theories that some had probably come up with. Orion knew what would drive him away from an organization like this if he had been a member. “It’s hard to theorize, honestly. Mostly because they just sorta… disappeared from town. But the scribe had always been about neutrality. Their job was strictly to observe and record. Scribes were supposed to be impartial to both sides and never be biased. I think that was hard for a lot of people. Plus, I’m sure some people just didn’t follow it- which must have led to some disagreements.” Orion shrugged again. He didn’t like theorizing without some sort of basis. The last thing he wanted was someone taking his words for fact. “I think there were issues long before it fell. And then something happened to some of the chapters around the world. Once a couple fell it wouldn’t be hard to picture the rest fading out with them. Clearly this place was never destroyed, which is good.” Did Winston just mention getting this place back to its former glory? So.. were they considering wanting to help too? More than just fixing the lights? Orion hoped so. “That’d be great. Well, electricity is a good start. To rebuild. I can use all the help from you that you’re willing to give.” Orion felt like he was on HGTV. Orion looked at the box of lights that Winston had already come prepared with and whistled, “Wow. You are way prepared. Nice.” He turned to look at the wires that Winston pointed out and jogged over, following the trail of wires. “You got it. Count on me.”

“Not very well, we ran into each other on Harris Island and we were attacked by a flock of seagulls, it was weird.” Winston was sure that they weren’t the only one who had weird things like that happen to them, but despite that they weren’t exactly the type to really revel in it. “We both live on Harris Island, so I think it was inevitable really.” They listened carefully to Orion’s theories, they had to admit that it was difficult to know anything without having real information on it. Yet Orion’s theory made sense. “I get that, that makes a bunch of sense, plus if you’re being impartial then neither of the ‘sides’ will be happy about it, they both probably wanted something and there’s only so long that you can get away with not picking a side.” They had to admit that they were disappointed that all of this had happened. It would’ve been good to have an organisation that was dedicated to supernatural academia help them with their own magical development and learning, even if it was just providing them with resources. “So they just slowly fell apart …” that was really sad and Winston couldn’t help but wonder if maybe they had left a void that really needed to be filled. They really needed the Scribes so that they could learn more. They were desperate to learn as much as they possibly could. “You’re right though, we’ve still got this place and this place is great, look how much we can do to make this place better, we could really make something of this place dude.” Winston couldn’t help but be excited about the potential that they had here. “I was never a boyscout or anything, but I always felt like I should’ve been because I come prepared to everything.”

That was weird, but hardly the weirdest thing that Orion had heard this week. Admittedly, being attacked by something as normal as seagulls was surprisingly mundane. He remembered Winston mentioning that they lived on Harris Island. It wasn’t that big of an island, which meant that Orion and Winston probably only lived a few minutes from each other. Evelyn too, he supposed. It really was a small town. “Exactly. From how my uncle described them, they were always doomed to fail. Like I said, they were stubborn. Time’s change and I don’t know if they were willing to change with it.” But now they could. New management meant that they could make their own rules. A new and better Scribe legacy. Still seemed far fetched to Orion, if he was being honest with himself. “I have a lot of ideas. For this place I mean. Once we get power back to it.” He just hoped he could see them through to fruition. Orion followed the cord down, making sure that it remained untangled and didn’t catch on anything. It was the least he could do. Orion laughed, a deeper laugh than he had done in quite a while at Winston’s joke. “Well, I was a boy scout and I promise you’re way more prepared than we ever were. Though to be fair, I was a really bad boy scout. Like really bad. I only lasted for like a year before my parents pulled me from it.” He had hated the boy scouts anyways, so it was a blessing in disguise when they forced him to leave. “How’s it going over there?” He yelled from a few yards away, switching back and forth from staring at the wiring and looking over in Winston’s direction.

“I knew that there had to be some organisation that was trying to do something, this Supernatural world is so chaotic and messy, no one seems to know what the hell is going on and everyone is kind of just hoping that they don’t die.” Winston was honestly somewhat concerned by the lack of serious consideration for morality that people appeared to display when talking about the Supernatural. After all, the fact that Hunters so willingly hunted innocent beings was beyond concerning for Winston. “Dude that is awesome, we can look at sorting them all out. Once we’ve got power we can look at really replacing some of the stuff in that sleeping room and cleaning everything out. I think if we focus on the kitchen, the library and the sleeping room then that would be best, once those three are kind of … better then you’ve at least got somewhere to sleep, somewhere to work and somewhere to eat …” they swallowed for a moment and frowned, “can I ask you a kind of personal question?” They paused for a moment and shuffled their feet before throwing themselves back into their work once more. “I’m pretty sure we’re all ready to test the lights,” Winston said as they finished the last circuit, “whenever you’re ready, give it a go.” Waiting for Orion to flip the switch gave them time to consider what they wanted to say.

“It just makes me sad. That over 30 years has gone by where nobody was keeping track of anything. There could have been some weird, once in a lifetime events that happened that will just get… completely erased by history.” Orion answered, sadness apparent in his voice. As someone that studied and was passionate about history, he understood just how scary the idea of something being lost forever was. He couldn’t imagine all the incredible things from history that the world would never know about because the records didn’t survive or people decided not to document it. “I agree! I think the library of course is the number one priority. The sleeping room and kitchen aren’t as important but they would definitely be a bonus. Plus it’d be nice to have the space in case someone ever needed to crash here.” Just like Winston had that night. Orion wished the next time that happened he could offer a more hospitable place. He was afraid where Winston’s personal question was going. All this talk of a place to sleep and eat were implying things. “Sure, of course. Whatever you want to know.” Was he going to tell the truth? Or was Orion going to work around it again, like some sort of maze? One Winston confirmed that Orion could flip the switch, Rio happily skipped over to the outlook and put his hand on it. Moment of truth. Orio took a deep breath and flipped it on.

Nodding pensively, Winston sighed sadly. “You never know, that might not be entirely true, and there’s time for everything to come back around, even if we’ve missed a few things.” Swallowing gently, Winston wasn’t sure that they agreed. If Orion was spending as much time here as Winston suspected then it was important that it was at least habitable. “We can work it out as we go along,” Winston intended to fix this place up as much as they could. As the lights flickered on across the library, Winston was finally able to see the whole of the library and it truly looked spectacular. They had to admit that there was going to be a lot of time spent reading the books here, Winston could only imagine the information that they would be able to find on magic. Especially if they were lucky. “You said before that your family situation wasn’t the best, they’re religious or something and no offence dude but you’re always here, are you like staying here because of stuff with your family?”

Orion nodded, happy that Winston was remaining hopeful on the situation. “Thanks. I hope you’re right.” Orion shrugged, it was hard to think about what could have been with the Scribes. He knew it was a waste of time anyways. He couldn’t go back and change anything. “Maybe there’s still a Scribe in town somewhere that kept an eye on things. Kept their own records on their own time. It would have to be a hard habit to kick, right?” If they could try to find them, maybe they could try to fill that hole. But at that exact moment, everything else stopped mattering. Because the lights were on. The lights were freaking on! “Holy crap.” Orion said, staring across the place in a wonder. “I can’t believe it all worked.” Orion hadn’t heard any glass shattering at least. Though the place was big enough it could have gone unnoticed. “Maybe it has something to do with the magic surrounding this place? Kept it preserved or something.” Orion had to admit they weren’t very familiar with magic, but it certainly seemed within the realm of possibility. Nothing quite killed the mood like talking about family though. “My family… wants something from me.” He began explaining, before realizing that he wasn’t explaining it well. “They want me to be something that I can’t be. There’s too much pressure in that house.. Too many lies and..” He trailed off. Exactly how much was too much? Orion had already crossed a line, telling Winston anything. If Athena knew she would be furious. Perfect life. Perfect family. That was the schtick. “My family wouldn’t approve of me doing this. And they wouldn’t let me do this. Which is why I’m here and not there. And why they can’t know about it. As far as they know I’m studying late at the library or staying with a friend or.. Something” He wasn’t sure they actually cared about the excuses Rio came up with. “Sorry- This is amazing. All of this is amazing.” He gestured at the library and the lights surrounding it, “I don’t want to ruin it or bring the mood down.”

“If you refuse to believe that things can be any better then there’s no chance they will be,” Winston replied with a shrug, it was a motto his brother had taught him as he campaigned for change within the school. Nothing had happened of course, but the motto had stuck with Winston. “Maybe, maybe there’s someone doing all of those things, but it doesn’t matter until we find them, so for now I’m going to focus on this and make sure it is as perfect as it can be.” They smiled and shrugged. “I don’t think we’re that lucky,” they said as a few lights began flickering, “but for now this is a start, we can clean everything up as we go along, this is going to be a work in progress for a while, but this was a big and very much needed step.” Winston slipped ontop of a desk near by, it was very dusty but they weren’t exactly paying attention to that as they listened to what Orion had to say. “It sounds like you just need to move out,” Winston said before shaking their head at Orion, “don’t apologise, it isn’t your faut when I am literally the one who asked the question, would you be able to move out if there was an opportunity that you could feasibly take?” Ricky was always saying how he wanted more people around the house.

Orion nodded with Winston. Though the advice was right and Orion knew that it was a good motto to live by he found it hard to follow the teaching himself. Sometimes it all just felt hopeless. But he was trying to stay positive. And the new friendships helped. “Right. Focus on the present.” Orion agreed, shaking his head but still staring ahead at the lights. Sure, some of them were flickering. It wasn’t perfect. But it was a start. That’s all Rio could really ask for at this time. “Yeah of course. Rome wasn’t built in a day.” Orion smiled towards Winston, giving them a thumbs up and finally moving away from the light switch so that he could rejoin Winston over by the tables. He climbed onto a table of his own and looked at Winston, “Yeah, I probably do.” Rio answered absent-mindedly. Of course he knew that Winston was right. He just wasn’t sure how easy that would be. Not with his family. “Probably? I mean legally I’m an adult. My parent’s probably wouldn’t care if I left.” He might actually be right about that, “But I don’t really have a job right now. Not a real one anyways. Or a place to go. So I’ve got to figure that stuff out before I actually consider moving out.” He shrugged. That’s what the had the Scribe headquarters for anyways.

“Learning to change what you can and learning to accept what you can’t is tough,” Winston agreed with a shrug, “something that I defo still struggle with, y’know?” They swallowed and looked around them, they had really made some progress and when some of those lights inevitably went -- they were pretty sure they had just heard a pop as one exploded -- then they would replace them. This was going to be a hefty project, but Winston couldn’t go anywhere now. Not when they knew how important White Crest really was. Not when they had so much still to learn about their magic. Winston chewed on their cheek for a moment before taking a plunge. Inviting someone that they barely knew to move in with them wasn’t exactly their standard move but they really liked Orion and they wanted to give them the out that they were worried that they might need. “Why don’t you just move in with me and my roommate Ricky?” they asked nonchalantly, “we’ve got the room for you, we actually have two free rooms that you could take and we’re always looking for another gaming partner. You’ll still be close to your parents and we can carpool over here. Then you don’t have to worry about them working out that you’re working on this place and you never know, getting some distance might improve things?”

“Ditto” Orion laughed, “Obviously. It’s not my strong suit. So I’m uh- I’m working on it.” Orion heard the light. He could hear the building light up. The hissing of the light, as it became too much and finally the light shattering and glass falling onto the table and floor. It was up on the next level. Out here in the middle of nowhere, it made it easy for Orion’s hunter hearing to focus. Back in town there was always so much going on, so much noise. It drove him crazy until he finally taught himself out to filter it out. But filtering it out made it hard to focus it at all. Here? This was his safe place to let his senses have a little more freedom without repression. “It was up on the second floor.” He mentioned, absentmindedly, then corrected himself. “I mean- I think. It sounded like it came from the second floor. The light that exploded.” Orion stared at Winston for a long moment trying to process what they had just asked him. “I- what?” He asked them. He heard them of course, but couldn’t seem to fathom that they had actually just asked them to move in. “Are you? I mean- seriously?” He continued to stare at Winston, wide eyed and dazed. “I couldn’t do that. I don’t even have a job right now.”

“That’s all you can do,” Winston replied with a shrug. Though they had to admit that they found it a little odd that Orion had been able to work out where the bulb had gone so quickly. “I mean, we can only find out if we go and check,” Winston set off across the newly lit library, making their way up a tight spiral staircase that wound up and up, they climbed the metal steps one at a time until they were on the second floor, “I can’t see anything,” they admitted though that didn’t mean anything considering their eyesight was appalling, “let’s double check anyway.” And there it was, the predicted denial and refusal of their offer. “I mean, I am being serious, I would have to double check with Ricky but he wouldn’t mind and it’s not like the rent on our place is huge, Ricky pretty much owns the house and just charges for maintenance so even if you don’t have a job you’d only have to worry about covering food and stuff and we can help you out if you need it, you don’t have to say yes or no, just think about it, the offers open.”

Orion followed Winston across the library and towards the staircase to the area Orion had specified, accidentally. He knew that it was up here, evidenced by the darkness. Though technically that could just mean that bulb was burnt out rather than it was the one that had shattered. But Orion’s eyes adjusted quickly to the darkness, another hunter perk. “Well the light isn’t working over here so I’m guessing this was it.” He spotted the broken glass after a moment, but decided not to say anything about it. He wasn’t ready to have the hunter conversation. Not yet. Especially when he lived with Ricky, who Rio had his own theories about. He still couldn’t wrap his head around the idea that Winston had just invited Rio to move in with them. And despite how badly he wanted to say yes. And how badly he wanted to get away from his family, but just couldn’t see it ending well. Not with Athena. If Rio was right about Ricky, then living with him could put his life at risk, at least until he found a way to protect them. At least as far as Orion knew, Winston was human and therefore safe. “Yeah, yeah of course. And I really appreciate it. I think I’m okay? For now at least. I- uh- I’ll think about it though? Thanks again.”

As they searched for the broken bulb, Winston had to admit that they almost wished that they had a better excuse then needing glasses. As Orion led the way, Winston wondered whether there was something more to this then Orion was letting on. Thoughtfully, they played with a loose thread at the bottom of their t-shirt, before their converse crunched through a piece of broken glass with a loud crack. “I think that I just found it,” they said as they looked up into the darkness and sure enough spotted what remained of the exploded bulb, carefully they reached up and screwed it. “Listen, think about it, don’t take it if it doesn’t work for you, it’s a pressure free offer that is open ended, so, let us know if you change your mind.” Their father had talked to them about situations like this before and Winston was well aware that Orion’s situation may change. They had done their bit and that was all anyone could ask.

For some reason, nothing ever seemed pressure free to Orion. The simplest decisions in life came with way too much anxiety to ‘think’ about and stress over. Every decision he had ever made felt grueling and left him exhausted. Playing truth or dare in elementary school had nearly drove him mad. But he appreciated the offer nonetheless, and truly believed that Winston meant it as a pressure free often. “Of course. You got it. I’ll think on it.” He nodded and smiled. It was dark, but maybe there was enough light for Winston to catch the facial expression. Or maybe not. Once Orion’s eyes adjusted to darkness it was hard to tell what normal humans could and couldn’t see. “So what now? We replace the broken bulb? Head back to the circuit room? I- uh… well you’re in charge here obviously. You actually know what you’re doing.” Once Winston left, Orion’s first goal would be to vacuum the place. He couldn’t imagine how long that was going to take.

Looking around, Winston had to admit that they didn’t think that this would’ve been as easy as it had turned out to be. They weren’t sure why, but they had expected more trouble setting everything up. “Well, I think that we’ve probably done enough for today, we’ve obviously got a bunch more to get done but I don’t think there’s that much that has to be done today…. So we could get a pizza or something? To celebrate our big achievement you know?”

#p: orion #para #wickedswriting #light bulb!

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