#and then rises again a bit after 04:00 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ripspaghet · 4 years ago

Text

bff | 06

↳ series m.list | 00 | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | ongoing

→ pairing: yoongi x reader

→ word count: 5,860

Prologue Summary; Your best friend's boyfriend takes an unhealthy interest in you and just as he shows up something from your past starts to creep up on you again. Could this strange and mysterious man have something to do with it? And should you trust him, or your instincts to run far, far away from him?

→ warnings: angst, swearing, cheating, self hate, trauma

Gone. Gone again. Anytime he feels he's gotten closer to unearthing the melody it slips from his fingertips, like water. It would all be so much easier if he didn't have this desire, this want. Every time it's silent he feels there's this void, something gaping within him, and life begins to feel dismal - yet, he still finds himself here, in this dark and desolate place that doesn't belong to him. A single red light aluminates in the darkness and he's left with no choice but to approach, shatter the glass, and enter. It isn't until screeching alarms pull in attention that he truly realizes that this place is not his own. Invaded. Breached. Ransacked. He's an unwelcome guest - although, these simple facts don't stop him. They pull him in, glass crunching beneath his shoes as he takes a seat. Fear and adrenaline suffocate the darkness looming around him, screaming that he is not wanted. He just needs to remember it. His fingers run along with the ivory keys, the smooth melody of the first five notes flowing into each other, only for an eerie pause of silence to follow. He lets his fingers slip from the keys. It's useless.

A soft echo of notes makes his eyes open.

He turns, looking for where the tune originated - but there's nothing, no one as far as the eye can see in this dense cloud of darkness. Nothing but the alarm filters through.

It's been exactly a day since it happened. The way your nerves are making your heart quake has, if nothing else, increased with time. You've been utterly restless - pacing around your dorm, spacing out while staring at the chipped paint of your white walls, and picking at hangnails excessively. You know you're going to have to face this. Otherwise, the rug will be pulled out from under you when you least expect it. It's safe to say you'd rather be the one pulling the rug, then be the one standing on it, waiting anxiously for your inevitable downfall.

You knock on the door about five times before it finally opens, making way to the threshold beyond it and a pair of pleasantly surprised eyes. Her gaze makes your stomach drop, so you opt for studying the interior details of her apartment. It's spacious and open, natural light pouring in from just about every nook and cranny. It suits her, she's never been one for reciting in the dark - despite her, more often than not, glaring gaze.

"____," She opens the door wider, "I didn't know you were coming, I would've made food if you called. Come in." You oblige, taking off your coat as you enter the apartment, the smell of scented candles, and floral encasing you in a spring time-capsule. You hang your coat on the rack next to the door. "It's been so stressful since the new semester started, we've barely had any time to hang out." You follow her into the kitchen after removing your shoes. "Work has been crazy too, you remember that kid that kept coming in and ripping the flowers off their stems?" She circles the center bar, making her way to the fridge and pulling out a pitcher of what you presume to be tea as she pours it into a glass, "Well, the manager refuses to ban him. He blames me for allowing the kid to destroy our merchandise." She slides the glass to you, "You prefer it cold, right?" She sighs, "That manager, such a prick. I'm really considering quitting if this keeps up." Remaining silent you watch as she fiddles with her own glass as she rambles, "I didn't mean to neglect our friendship or anything. It's just between all this and...Yoongi," Your stomach drops and your ears go fuzzy. You don't hear much of what she says, swearing you're about to barf up the chicken you'd had for lunch not all that long ago. Her voice lowers as if she's afraid someone might be listening in, "He's being so strange, showed up h-"

"Mina, I need to talk to you about something." You don't dare meet her eyes, you keep them downcast on the dewdrops of condensation rising on the glass of your untouched drink. She falls silent, the air around you becoming heavy. With a sigh, you take a seat at the bar but still neglect to touch the tea in front of you. Mina moves to take the seat next to you, still silent, observing your exhausted expression. "Listen, about Yoongi - I don't really know how to say this, so, I'll just say it. He k-"

You're startled into a flinch as fumbling footsteps followed by a loud crash of glass and fuck knows what else, cuts you off. As you turn your head, a lanky body stumbles out of the hallway into the kitchen, their back to you and Mina as a harsh swear makes your breath hitch. Dirt and glass is now spread out across the marble floor in a messy display and Mina moves quickly while you remain in your seat, watching as she rushes with worried words, "Are you okay? Did you cut yourself?"

As if you hadn't already realized, your eyes nearly bulge out of your head, heart slamming up into your throat as his dark hair falls over his brows and shifts ever so slightly with the tilt of his head, "I'm fine, " His dark eyes never leave you as Mina scans him for injuries, "your plant, not so much."

"I'll get the broom." Mina saunters off, leaving you alone with the source of your guilty conscience - you're dripping with it, a metaphorical layer of sweat against your skin that's almost suffocating.

"____-"

"Don't."

"Got it! Yoongi, hold this for me."

His mouth is quick to clamp shut as he takes the dustpan that's shoved into his chest, his eyes darting away from you, "Yeah, sure."

Mina works quickly as always, swiping the dark potting soil up into the yellow pan that Yoongi holds steady. Nervously, you shift your gaze away from the two and pick up your tea to take a large gulp.

This is going up in flames. How are you supposed to tell her with him here? You don't want to be- No, you shouldn't be caught up in this. You should have never let it happen…

"There," Mina's voice pulls your attention back up, "I'll-"

"No, I've got it." His hand lightly brushes her wrist before he turns to dispose of the dirt. The gesture is small enough to convince you that neither of them really noticed it - just a natural loving touch, nothing unusual - though, it's enough to make you look away again.

"____? Are you alright?"

Your breath hitches and you have to force the hard expression on your face to loosen, "I'm f-fine." They are together, happy, maybe even in love. He hasn't said a word to her about any of it, yet, he wasn't alone in the act. You could've stopped him. You could've pushed him away, should've told him no. She's your best friend and you let him-

"What was it you were saying? Something about Yoon-"

"Nothing," You force a big smile, "I think I was just a bit worried about you. As you said, we haven't made time for each other lately."

"Oh, " Her lips purse, "we should make time for each other soon then."

How selfish are you? Never in your life have you thought of yourself as a horrible person. But now? Your skin is crawling with self-loathe. Every time you meet Mina's gaze your stomach drops - not because of what happened, but because of how it made you feel. The images that run rampant in your head shouldn't be there. It's all the worse that there was no lust driving your actions - there was a deep-rooted desire, an intoxicating burning beneath your skin that makes you dizzy just thinking about it. A passionate fire had dwindled to life beneath your ribcage. It should make you sick. You should be repulsed at the mere thought. "I should get going now. I don't want to intrude on your couple time. I'll see you in class."

"You don't-"

"Call or text if you need me."

The hallway is clustered with people, bumping shoulders with you as you drag yourself along. Maybe it's best you act like it never happened, that Mina remains happy and not miserable knowing the man she is in love with kissed her best friend...and that her best friend allowed it - kissed him back even. And maybe you deserve this dreadful feeling that's swelling inside, growing larger day by lousy day.

You stop abruptly, a student behind you swearing at you for making them walk around. You don't know why you've stopped, don't know what urges you to turn your head but, never the less, you do. You blink at the letters next to the door. Shifting your weight from one foot to the other, you peek through the small door window. It's tantalizing, filling you with more anger than any remorse. You let this thing, this object, control you. Your every move and action revolves around running from it and for what?

Before you can convince yourself otherwise you're yanking the door open and marching in, heading straight for the ivory keys sat on the opposite side of the music room. How could you be afraid of something so ridiculous? It's pathetic. You plop down on the bench, eyes set to kill as your fingers naturally fall into the correct posture. And with a soft and steady exhale of air, your fingers slowly ignite, brushing along the keys with a fevered nostalgia.

'Prélude no.25 in C sharp minor, Op.45', a piece you once knew like the back of your hand. The memories of it still linger fresh in your mind, so much so that your hands could flow with the smoothness of the lilting notes even in your sleep. Your turmoil seems to whip and lash at your fingertips like a ravenous animal as the song crescendos, the tempo increasing with veracity and then it cuts through you, a sharp pain traveling up your right wrist and you yank your hands away. The room falls silent, nothing but the sounds of birds chirping outside and the wind whistling. Your eyes sting with unshed tears and you can't help but slam your foot into the floor out of frustration.

"____?"

Your breath catches in your throat, fear falling in the pit of your stomach as you turn your head.

"What are you doing in here?"

The sight of Jimin's blonde hair and worried eyes only calms you a little. You'd worried that maybe someone else had found you here, but it being him wasn't exactly any better. "I just-" You turn to look back down at the piano, your brows knit together, "I don't know."

"Come on," Jimin is quick to make his way over to you, yet you don't turn back to face him - even when he wraps his hand around your wrist and gently pulls it up to inspect, "you shouldn't do this to yourself." You turn slowly, reluctant to face anyone at such a vulnerable moment, but you manage to frown at him as the pad of his thumb traces soothing patterns into your skin. His hair is swept neatly across his forehead, a soft smile plays on his lips that doesn't meet his eyes, "Does it still hurt?"

"It hurts every day, Jimin." You turn away, "You know that."

"You're strong ____."

You flinch, not expecting him to say that, of all things.

"After everything that's happened, I've never known you to give up. So, stop putting yourself down." He pauses, coming to sit beside you but never letting your wrist go, "I know you can't play anymore, but your talent doesn't just exist within a piano. It's a lot more than that." Still refusing to meet his gaze, you begin picking at a hangnail, "Here," He lets your hand go and you briefly glance over to see what he's doing just as he holds a small yellow sucker out to you, "it's lemon flavored."

You glance down at the thing held up to your face, "Why-"

"You like lemonade, right?" He smiles, eyes twinkling, "Hurry and take it, we have to get to class before you're late again."

You snatch the candy from him, sniffling in annoyance, "What am I? A five-year-old?"

"You don't have to be a child to enjoy the sweeter things in life."

You abruptly plop down into your chair between Mina and Jimin, exhaling dramatically as you do. If only it'd all been a dream and you could just forget it. How many times have you thought that now? Were you in the Hundreds now? Thousands?

"Everything alright?"

Like clockwork, you sputter nervously under Mina's gaze, "Ah, yeah, just tired. Must be insomnia or something."

"Insomnia?" Jimin raises an eyebrow and tilts his head to look at you, "Do you have that?"

"Yes? No? Maybe? I'm not a doctor. Where is the professor?" Both of them turn their attention to the front of the class, seemingly not taking notice of your jumpy behavior. Though, you're sure Jimin did. He just knew when it was time to leave you be.

"Oh, that, " Mina nibbles on her bottom lip to keep herself from smiling, "Professor Lee caught some nasty bug over the weekend."

"I fail to see why that would make you smile like a little school girl that just wet herself."

She scowls at Jimin, "The professor asked a former student of his to teach the class until he returns."

What?

"Oh, wow, so Loverboy is subbing just so he can stare at your toxic face all day? I don't buy it. He must be into guys."

"Excuse me?"

You think you're about to vomit up your breakfast.

"He finds me cute and couldn't get enough."

"He absolutely does not!"

Please, for the love of all that's good in this world.

"Told me himself."

"Stop making shit up, Park!"

"As soon as you stop buzzing in my ear, you fly."

"I am not a fly! You-"

The classroom door slams and you jump in your seat, making both Jimin and Mina turn to you questioningly as you squeeze your eyes shut in denial. Slow footsteps make their way to the front of the lecture hall and the echo of them makes you cringe.

There is absolutely no way the universe hates you enough to-

"Hello, my name is Min Yoongi, a music producer and a former student of Professor Lee's. Unfortunately, the Professor is bedridden and has asked me to substitute for the time being, let's get along well."

Never mind, the universe doesn't hate you - it loathes you. You'd think that after everything you'd have no trouble avoiding him. Hell, you thought that he'd do the same, but you suppose Min Yoongi isn't going to be giving you any breaks anytime soon.

You let your head fall from your hands and slam into the desk beneath you with a concerningly loud thud.

"Woah, are you alright?" Jimin places a hand on your shoulder and you miserably slug away from him.

"Don't touch me."

The class drags on like a snail and you've sat here long enough to, staring at a head of dark hair, try to hex the man it belongs to about a thousand times - give or take. You've yet to see a beehive fall from the ceiling and send him running home though.

When the bell finally does ring you're not even granted the semblance of running out yourself as Mina cuts you off, "I'm having my birthday party early this year."

"Oh, really? When is it?" You keep your head down as the two of you mosey along, closer and closer to the front of the classroom.

"Tomorrow at my place."

You nod, more focused on escape than anything else.

"It was going to be on my birthday week, but Yoongi and I made plans together for the day of my birthday. We're going to-"

"That's great Mina. I'm sure the two of you will have a great time together." You force a smile as if your life depends on it, "Say, what time is the party?"

"Oh," Mina laughs with realization as you inwardly sigh with relief at the welcomed change of subject, "it's at eight."

"Great."

Mina bounces over to the exit with excitement, "You'll be there?"

"Of course." You force another smile as you follow after her.

Almost there, almost home free.

"Great, I'll see you then."

You nod again at the threshold, watching as Mina waves back to you.

"____, I need to speak with you."

You freeze, a deadly chill rushing down your spine. "No, thanks." You wave behind you, not turning back as you continue with your escape.

"It's about your test."

You freeze again, your eye twitching at your lack of luck today, "I'm in a real rush, I can't-"

"Come here, now."

Fuck the universe, that vindictive bitch.

Reluctantly, you turn and make your way back towards the center of the desk you had passed by with ease not all that long ago, "You failed your last test. Professor Lee informed me that you need to retake it, or you'll fail this class."

You keep your eyes directed on the wall behind him, not once sparing him a proper glance, "Okay, I'll find a tutor and-"

"There's no available tutors, because it's exam season. I told Professor Lee I'd handle this, so I'll be teaching you."

Your eyes are quick to dart to his now, "No!"

His fingers tap against the desk and they draw your attention as his eyes narrow in on you, "This has nothing to do with-" He pauses, letting out a steady breath of air and you lift your gaze back to his. Rather than being irritated or annoyed, as you expect, your surprised to find that he looks super uncomfortable, maybe even anxious, "our relationship outside of this room. And might I remind you that this test is half this semester's grade. You'll only fail again without proper help." You grit your teeth, holding back your protests. You hate to admit this, but he's right - again. "Starting next week come here after you've finished all your classes. I will be in the office grading papers. And-" He slides something across the desk to you, "your laptop, you left it."

You grab your laptop quickly before turning to leave, all the while not uttering another word to Yoongi.

The bathroom mirror is fogged over completely - except for a small spot that you've whipped at in order to dab foundation onto your neck, thoroughly painting over the purple and yellow discoloration on your skin. You juggle with your phone in your other hand, holding it to your ear, "I just- hear me out?"

"Why should I? I don't like her, so the answer is no. End of conversation."

"Please? I don't want to go alone."

"Why not? It's not like it's going to be a fun party. Doubt there will even be alcohol."

"You-"

"Get out of here already!"

"Shit," You begin shoving your makeup back into your bag, fumbling with your phone in the process.

"Listen, I know you've been having a hard time lately but there's no way in hell I'm-"

"Fine! Don't go! It's not like I need you there or anything!" You slam the bathroom door shut behide you, sure to piss off your roommate, who is washing shampoo from her hair.

"Don't be like that, ____. You know she wouldn't even want me-" Throwing your bag over your shoulder you pull the phone away from your ear and hang up. After all the things Jimin has put you through, he can't even do you the smallest of favors. You stomp over to your dorm room door, storming out into the hallway, and down the stairs. You shove the glass door to your complex open, letting the cold wind blow tangles into your freshly brushed hair as you stride toward the Lift driver that's been waiting for you at the curb for the past thirty minutes. Under normal circumstances, you'd apologize to the driver for making them wait, but as you've established, time and time again, these are not normal circumstances. As you buckle your seat belt the driver takes off, drifting at about thirty on the speedometer.

A heavy sigh falls off your lips and you lean your head against the window as the first ticks of rain make contact with the transparent glass. Your phone buzzes in your lap and you glance down at it. You half expected it to be a text from Jimin, although the notification is from an unknown number.

Message from Unknown Number-8:32pm: Let me make up for lost time. Please, answer your phone.

You begin typing only to be cut off by another buzz.

Message from Unknown Number-8:33pm: Don't try telling me I've got the wrong number. Jimin gave it to me.

You scowl down at the small screen before abruptly turning off your phone. You curse Jimin as you shove the phone into your bag.

"Thought you said you weren't going to come."

He fiddles with the ends of his hair, all the while avoiding your gaze, "Well, Jungkook agreed to come along so-"

"You can be a real jerk sometimes, you know that?"

Sighing, Jimin leans against his younger friend, but Jungkook's attention seems to lie elsewhere as he completely ignores the two of you, "You know how I feel about Mina."

"Yeah," You turn to see what's got Jungkook so preoccupied, "and you know how I feel about parties." Across the room you spot Mina and Yoongi. The two are conversing rather aggressively and you inhale sharply, barely managing to remind yourself that it's normal for Mina to blow things out of proportion and it's probably nothing. You don't need to worry. You force your attention back to Jimin.

"I have no idea how you feel about anything nowadays. You're-"

"I swear I'm never doing anything for that she-devil again."

You turn to see a rather annoyed Seokjin now standing behind Jungkook, with a large birthday cake in hand.

Raising an eyebrow, you tilt your head, "What are you doing here?"

He looks away from Jungkook, who is now laughing at his elder's misfortune, "I was conned."

"Ah," You nod and point at the cake, "she made you bake that?"

Jimin shakes his head, "What a shame you let her walk all over you."

"Yeah," Seokjin rolls his eyes before glaring over in Mina's direction, "it's too quiet in here. I'm going to start some music."

You watch Seokjin make his way over to a speaker and then leave for the kitchen. The smell of birthday cake tickles your nose now as the sound of soft pop music lulls the small crowd of people in the apartment space.

"God, this is boring."

"Beyond boring."

Those two seem to be unable to keep their moping to themselves since you arrived, although you haven't paid them all that much attention. You're more concerned with how you're going to avoid eating cake later on. You hate overly sweet things with a passion and Mina's cake is sure to taste like a sugar rush.

"We should liven it up a bit."

"Sounds like a plan to me."

"How about it ____?" You drag your gaze away from a frowning Mina to glance over at Jimin, who's holding a plate full of crumbs that were previously covered in chips. Jungkook stands next to him, bordly munching on some handmade snack you couldn't remember the name of. The two of them refused to stay anywhere that wasn't right beside the snack table. You guessed since there wasn't any alcohol, they were making do with what's available.

"Can you two behave until the candles are blown out? I don't wanna hear Mina yelling until I've already told her my excuse to leave."

Jungkook nods, "Understandable,"

"I suppose I'll wait."

You just want to go home and get some more sleep, you couldn't care less what these two goons had up their sleeves. Yes, you want Mina to have a good birthday, but you can only maintain your act for so long while around her. Faking isn't your strong suit.

"Oh, God,"

"Wha-Oh,"

You glance back over at the two of them to see that they're staring across the room. Jimin is frowning, while Jungkook looks as if his whole life is flashing before his eyes. You turn to see what it is, only to find yourself wishing you never did.

"____! There you are! You sly fox, you. I've been looking for you everywhere."

Your stomach drops, "Who told him?"

Jimin scowls as his friend makes his way over to you, "It definitely wasn't me."

"Sorry, ____. He promised me he wouldn't come if I told him." Jungkook scoots away from you out of fear of your wrath.

The guy approaching you is quick to move to your side, placing an arm around your waist. You're sure to send Jungkook the deadliest of glares that has him cowering behind a now, rather aggravated Jimin.

"Tae, what are you doing here?" You almost choke as you force a smile onto your face.

He pulls you closer to him, a smirk playing on his lips, "I heard from a little birdy that you'd be here."

As a strong urge to knee Jungkook in the crouch starts to settle in, you grit your teeth, forcing yourself to bear it and not cause a scene.

"Yah, Taehyung, who do you think you are, clinging to my best friend like that?" Jimin's brows have shot up in question as he stares Taehyung down with accusing eyes.

His arm doesn't leave you, though you can feel him stiffen under Jimin's intimidating gaze, "I-"

"If you want your dick sucked find some other girl to do it."

Taehyung frowns, "Jimin, I'm not-"

"Taehyung, " You pat his shoulder, gaining the attention of all three boys' in the process, "how about you go get me a drink from the kitchen?"

He looks back and forth between you and Jimin, slightly suspicious before nodding, and heading off.

Jimin scoffs, "The nerve of him."

"I'm going to get some fresh air. Tell him I went to the restroom or something. Also, try to keep from fighting. Like I said earlier-"

"Yeah, yeah, you don't want to ruin Mina's birthday party. Blah, blah, blah."

"Jimin," You glare, "I'm serious."

"Alright, " He groans, rolling his eyes, "I'll stop. Just go before that horny baboon gets back and tries humping your leg."

You roll your eyes but nod never the less. Jungkook whispers another sorry to you as you walk past them towards the apartment door. You only wave him off, not caring enough to bother with his inability to keep a secret. You're too tired and honestly just wish you could go home. You mean, you could go home with the excuse of, "I started feeling sick." Which wouldn't be a complete lie - thanks to Taehyung. You know Mina wouldn't fall for it though.

Luckily, her apartment is on the bottom floor and it doesn't take you long to make your way outside. The warmth from the building's heater almost seems to melt off your skin in the chilled air. It's only around dinner time, but you suspect the sun has begun to set behind the rain clouds, due to the darkness that has started settling over the city. Your steps are small as you watch your breath puff out into a cold cloud passed your chapped lips. Fiddling with the sucker that still rests in your pocket, you shut your eyes and listen to the downpour that assaults the sidewalk. You hadn't planned on being so weak, so vulnerable. After all these years you'd hoped that maybe you would've grown stronger by now - but you feel weaker than ever.

An exaggerated sigh startles you and your eyes snap open.

His back is to you as rain showers down onto the awning above, black shoes resting in a puddle on the curb of the street as he stares at cars zipping by. You've never noticed before, but the rainy weather compliments his skin. You find your eyes lingering on the pads of his fingers and the blue veins below red knuckles - a perfect contrast of colors. Really, you know better than to approach him. You know better than to go anywhere near him - but, knowing better doesn't stop you from making your way over to him with a misplaced sense of determination as he reaches into his pocket, nor does it keep you from plopping down next to him as he places the retrieved object between his velvety lips.

He pauses his actions to glance over at you curiously. You frown at him before reaching up and plucking the purple lighter from his left hand, "What are you-"

You shove the lighter into your pocket, exchanging it with your sucker. You know you'll never eat it, might as well put it to good use. You hold it out to him, "You should replace bad habits with healthy habits."

He turns away with a scoff, nibbling on his lower lip - an obvious attempt to keep himself from smiling, "That isn't particularly healthy."

You glance at the sucker, "No, but it's better than what you had before." Nudging the candy into his now empty hand you purse your lips.

Reluctantly, he takes the cigarette away from his mouth and slides it back into its pack, "So, you're talking to me again?"

"No," You stare at him as his long fingers unwrap the yellow sucker and plop it into his mouth.

"Then what do you call this?"

You look away, opting to stare at the wet asphalt and listen to the constant pitter-patter of the rain, "Why were you and Mina fighting?"

Silence falls over the two of you for a moment before he sighs and rolls the stick of the sucker along his tongue, "She wants me here while I need to be elsewhere."

"It's her birthday party."

"Yeah," He snaps, eye sharpening as they flicker over to you, "I told her a month before she planned it what days I'd have work. She did this on purpose."

"Why would she-"

"Because she thinks I'm cheating on her with my coworker." The words are spat bitterly, the sound of the sucker cracking between the tension of his teeth. Your lips clamp shut and you look away from him. Why are you getting involved? You're only making things messier for yourself. "She's not all that wrong, though. I guess I deserve this."

Your head whips back over, "W-what? Are you cheating with a coworker?"

He turns to look at you, brows furrowed, "What? No, I-" He pauses then shakes his head, deciding against it and laughs, "Why are you here ____?"

You glance around, "I-Uh-Mina said I had to come and I-"

His head tips forward, dark hair falling over his lashes, "No, why are you here, with me."

"Oh," You watch the rain as it begins to slow, "I'm not sure."

"Thought you hated me."

"I should." You grit your teeth in annoyance.

"But you don't." Rather than it being a question, it's more of a statement, as if he already knows exactly how you feel.

You don't say a word, you just blink over at his side profile, heart thudding against your ribcage.

He sighs, turning to look at you, "You and I, I know it isn't good. I know I should stay away from you and you do the same to me...but," His dark eyes trace your features, as if trying to memorize them, "I don't think-"

"Jimin! You asshole! Get out! You were never invited for this exact reason!"

You both turn to see Jimin stumbling out of the apartment complex, Mina hot on his heels, "It's not my fault your party was boring!"

Shit.

"Shut up!" She lands a solid slap that echoes off the back of Jimin's neck and through the rainy streets.

"Fuck! Jungkook! Do something she's touched me! I'm infected!"

Jungkook isn't far behind the pair, seeing as a second later he's the next person to rush out onto the sidewalk. Mina shoves Jimin's chest and he barks with laughter as he stumbles back, "Are you a child?!"

"Sure, if that's what you want me to be."

"Jimin, come on, stop. ____ said to-"

"____ said what?! Is she the one who brought you?!"

Shit.

"What? No, I-"

Next to burst through the door is Taehyung, who is quick to step in between Mina and Jimin, "Really sorry about all this Mina. I'll escort Jimin home."

"You?!" Jimin laughs dryly, "Why? So you can have another go at ____?"

Taehyung's brows crease as he opens his mouth to speak, but when he glances over to see you sitting on the curb he shifts gears, "____! There you are!"

Fuck.

All of their heads turn to you, Jimin raising an eyebrow, Jungkook looking confused, and Mina narrowing her eyes at you as she assesses the fact that her boyfriend is sitting next to you.

"The fuck are you doing out here?" You can tell that her question is directed at Yoongi, only by the small shift of her eyes. Yoongi simply shakes his head and turns away to watch the cars again.

Somewhere in all the commotion, Taehyung had made his way over to you, seeing as when he plops down next to you and snakes an arm around your waist you flinch, "Is this where you've been hiding?"

"For the love of God, Taehyung, if you don't-"

Jimin is cut off when Yoongi stands up, pulling you with him by the wrist, and glaring at Taehyung in such a way that he freezes on the curb - hands kept to himself. You fidget at the feeling of Yoongi's cold fingers wrapped around your wrist, holding your breath. The group turns dead silent before you eventually pull away from Yoongi, taking your wrist back, "Taehyung, please take Jimin home."

"What?!" Jimin squawks at you, "You said you needed me-"

"And I should've just asked Jungkook instead." You're quick to cut Jimin off, glaring at him as if he'd just stepped on your toe.

"I can't believe this. I literally-"

"Aw, poor Park. First time getting dumped on a sidewalk?"

"Shut up!" The snarl takes all of you by surprise, even Mina takes a step back, mouth clamping shut.

"Jimin,"

Jimin's eyes shift back to you, flickering over to Taehyung, then Yoongi before settling back on you, "Are you going to tell me what's going on with you?"

"What's going on with me?" You scoff, "You're joking, right?"

"Well, other than the usual shit show you have going on." His words are harsh and they catch all of you off guard for a second time. Jimin tends to be blunt when he needs to be, yes, but never harsh, "I'm fed up, ____. You won't talk to me. You're just bottling it all up. You can't expect anything the change if you-"

"You're the one who gave Hoseok my number!"

a/n: sorry it took me so long to post and that this is kinda filler🙇‍♀️ but it's the start of some character development and the conflict is raising so it's about get crazy real soon👀😳

@team-work-made-the-dream-work @seokchella @crackhead1-800 @chogiyeol-utopia @thatchampagnebitch @jeonchan26 @loveyoongles @ghoularaki @team-wang-puppy

To be tagged send an ask 🍬🚬

#bts yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi au #mina twice #min yoongi #bts au #bts jimin #yoongi angst #bts angst #taehyung x reader #suga x reader #suga angst #bff | 06 #bff series

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ikevampeventarchive · 4 years ago

Text

[ERS] Shyness Melts Into A Cocktail ～ Mozart

Duration: 11/22 (Fri) 04:00 PM ～ 11/29 (Fri) 09:00 PM

While drinking champagne at a party hosted at the mansion, Mozart became drunk and lost his memories. However, a rumor reaches your ear of a song inspired by the sensations from last night; the one he supposedly forgot...?

The unexpected truth revealed from his own lips is ——

Route Preview

[This is an unofficial work based on fan-translation. Copyright belongs to Cybird.]

Common Route

The story starts one evening, with MC being chased around Mozart’s bed by Mozart himself. He smiles at her then frowns, asking MC to let him drink more. Lamenting the situation, MC thinks back to earlier that night, to the informal banquet with all the mansion’s residents.

Arthur passes MC a champagne glass, and Theo proudly declares that it was a special champagne that he received from an associate in celebration of a successful exhibit. Hearing this brought MC’s expectations for the champagne up quite a bit and she smiles, gazing at the glass.

Arthur, still pouring glasses for everyone else, asks Mozart if he’s going to drink, guessing that he wouldn’t since Mozart is known to have a low alcohol tolerance. Mozart fixes him with a sullen look, telling him not to make assumptions before stealing a glass and downing it in one gulp.

Worried about him, MC asks Mozart if he’s okay, peering into his face when she gets close. Mozart is visibly dazed, but says that he’s fine. MC is reasonably skeptical and suggests to Mozart that he return and rest since his face is already turning red.

She looks to him again, only to find Mozart smiling. The rare but beautiful expression on his face flusters MC, the woman unconsciously looking away. Mozart leans closer.

Mozart: I’ve already told you that I’m fine. Furthermore —

Unable to handle him being so close, MC backs away. Unsurprisingly, Mozart follows.

Mozart: Furthermore, MC, why are you avoiding my gaze like that?

MC: That, that’s….

She clams up, deciding not to say anything since everyone would definitely make fun of her reasoning. After all, who ends up unable to look at their lover because their smile is too pretty? Still trying to get her attention, Mozart reaches out and grabs MC’s chin.

Mozart: MC, look at me.

The action effectively forces MC to look at Mozart straight on, and she starts blushing full force. With his free hand, Mozart starts petting MC’s cheek. Poor MC.

Mozart: ….Your face is red and warm. Aren’t you the one who’s drunk?

MC: M-Mozart, let me go….

Mozart: …? What’s so embarrassing about this much touching?

MC takes a quick look around their surroundings, full of people who are watching while enjoying their champagne (Leonardo and le Comte), people who may or may not tease them with smiles on their faces (Theo and Vincent), and turns to Mozart, telling him as such.

Still, Mozart would not let go. While MC was racking her mind for a way to get him to understand, snickers reached their ears. That does the trick. Distracted by the sound, Mozart turns towards their source and lets go of MC in the process. It turns out to have been Dazai, who watches the two of them while swirling his own glass.

Dazai: Mo-kun, I think you really are drunk. You’ve been smiling and in a great mood since earlier.

Dazai: And besides, you’re troubling Toshiko-san quite a bit in front of everyone, too.

His words seem to hit something in Mozart and he turns towards MC again, sighing.

Mozart: So it would be fine if we were alone?

MC: Huh?

Dumbfounded, MC nods, but Mozart pays no mind and stands up on his own. He takes MC’s hand and turns right towards Theo, who was pouring another drink for Vincent, and steals the bottle right from his hands. Again paying no mind to the shouts coming from the others, Mozart promptly leaves the dining room, pulling MC behind him.

They arrive at Mozart’s bedroom, and he wastes no time pushing MC down onto the bed after turning on the lights. MC tries to sit up in confusion while Mozart hovers over her, preventing her from doing so. She again tells him that he’s drunk and Mozart once again denies.

Mozart ends up taking the champagne bottle and pouring out another glass, telling MC to let him drink more before giving her the glass. MC is confused as to why Mozart said that he wants to drink but turns around and gives her the glass. Mozart frowns and tells MC to just drink it first before he explains, unless she really is drunk, of course.

Incensed, MC drinks the champagne and Mozart kisses her, drinking the champagne from her mouth. They continue kissing, swapping the champagne between their lips until Mozart pulls away, saying that it’s much better to drink this way. Internally, MC agrees, but thinks that even though it feels good, it’s still embarrassing. She eventually manages to ask why he thought of something like this, to which Mozart replies:

Mozart: It tastes better when we do it like this.

MC flushes and goes lightheaded with both arousal and alcohol. Mozart suggests that they make use of the rest of the champagne, and the two of them spend the night together, drinking champagne from each others’ lips.

The next morning, Mozart doesn’t remember a thing, even when MC asks him and he tries to remember. MC thinks to herself that it might actually be a good thing that he forgot, since she’s still embarrassed about their actions last night.

There’s still a small part of her, however, that sighs at how unfair it is that only she remembers.

The scene then skips to Mozart playing the piano around noon. As he lets the melody flow through his fingers onto the keys, Dazai pays him a visit. Mozart stops playing but doesn’t do any more to acknowledge his existence.

Dazai: Is that a new song? It’s quite the provocative composition.

Dazai: Perhaps inspired by last night?

Mozart: ……

Dazai: Ahaha. I’ll stop poking my nose into it then.

Dazai: It’s all good as long as you enjoyed yourselves.

Having said his piece, Dazai sashays out the room, leaving Mozart behind to sigh into the quiet air.

Later around sunset, MC is walking down a hallway, thinking about what Dazai told her around noon.

Dazai: It was quite a sensual song.

Dazai: The effect you have on Mo-kun is truly impressive.

She wonders if what he said was really true, and whether it does relate to her or not. Later that night, MC comes to Mozart’s room, determined to say her piece. Though she tried to convince herself that Mozart’s memory loss was fine, it really wasn’t.

MC: Say, Mozart. About last night.

MC: Were you pretending to be so drunk you lost your memory? Or do you really not remember?

Mozart: Do you….

Mozart: Do you want me to remember? Or are you hoping that I don’t?

—

Sweet End

Alone with him, get drunk on a sweet night in each and every way―

—

MC admits that she would rather Mozart not remember, and after a long silence, he says as much. Mozart says that he doesn’t remember anything, yet it seems like his body remembers touching MC and being touched by her, and that impression turned into a new song. He frowns, however, saying that it’s unfair that he can’t remember anything since he has a right to remember how his lover looks in their passionate moments together. MC rages internally, thinking to herself that she doesn’t want him to remember because it’s embarrassing for her. So if anything, she’d rather forget like Mozart did.

While MC is lost in her thoughts, Mozart grips both her shoulders and leans in.

Mozart: …. Hey.

MC: Yes…?

Mozart: That song is still incomplete… so I want you to help me in any way you can.

MC: Help…? What do you mean by that?

Mozart: … Make me remember last night. All of it.

MC feels heat rising through her body but agrees. She asks Mozart what he wants her to do, and Mozart suggests that they switch positions. MC will show Mozart what he himself did to her last night, so that maybe Mozart’s memories will be triggered by seeing his actions in an objective manner. It’s a wild idea and MC is understandably shocked (lol).

In the end, they did end up getting more alcohol and setting up everything like how it was last night. MC wonders if Mozart will get drunk and forget again as they start. Mozart asks MC what they did last night, waiting for her to make the first move. While repeatedly reminding herself that this is for the sake of completing Mozart’s new song, MC pours a glass of champagne like he did last night and offers it to him.

After Mozart drinks the alcohol calmly, MC kisses him. She thinks back to how Mozart said that it tastes better when champagne is drunk like this, and comments to herself that he might just be right about this matter.

Mozart: This taste, I remember it.

Wrapping a hand on MC’s nape, Mozart pulls her back in for another kiss. MC asks him if he remembers anything else, to which Mozart replies that he has bits and pieces but not much. When they part, MC is once again lightheaded. Mozart flips their positions so that he’s on top and smiles down mischievously at MC.

Mozart: Tonight, it might just be your turn to forget everything….

Mozart: However, don’t worry.

Mozart: I’ll make sure to impress the knowledge into your body, so that you can remember afterwards.

MC surrenders herself to Mozart’s capable hands, narrating that rather than alcohol, it’s Mozart’s expressions, words, and body heat that make her drunk.

—

Premium End

As heat pierces through watery eyes, your heart beats faster ――

“Show me. Your face when you’re intoxicated... not from wine, but from kissing me.”

—

MC tells Mozart that she wants him to remember. More than feeling annoyed over how unfair it is that she’s the only one that remembers, she wants to experience everything with Mozart — no matter how embarrassing it is. Mozart drops his gaze, and after a long silence:

Mozart: I remember.

The revelation is shocking, yet MC recalls the way Mozart said that he didn’t remember that morning and decides that he didn’t seem like he was lying about losing his memories then. She asks as such, and Mozart says that he remembered because it felt good and because he’s looking at MC right now.

Mozart brings up a hand to cup MC’s cheek, tracing her lips. He tells her that he remembered how her body felt hot everywhere and how she let out such sweet sounds whenever he touched her. Once again embarrassed, MC denies this, saying that she felt hot because of the alcohol they drank. Mozart kisses her, and by the time MC realizes what she was doing, she was already leaning heavily onto Mozart and gripping his shirt.

Mozart chuckles lightly at the sight, calling MC out on her lie. MC is still lightheaded from the intense kiss and couldn’t quite process what he was saying. Before she could do much, however, Mozart sticks his fingers in her mouth, running them over her tongue and the inside of her mouth.

Mozart: Even when you’re not drunk, it’s hot inside you.

Because of the fingers in her mouth, MC couldn’t clearly say anything in denial, embarrassed as she may be. Mozart continues to move his fingers and MC continues letting out moans in response. He soon stops, however, his expression solemn as he asks if MC doesn’t want to continue if she isn’t drunk. Mozart’s expression then turns mischievous, tempting MC with the promise of doing something even better than last night.

Unable to imagine what something even better than last night would be, MC thinks of twisting away. Before she could do so, Mozart pins her to his bed, promising not to forget and asking her to stay. The resistance in MC goes out after hearing this, and the two of them start getting heated, their touches becoming more and more passionate.

MC thinks to herself that this is definitely different from last night, most notably due to the fact that Drunk Mozart smiles a lot more.

MC: I want to see you smile… like how you do when you’re drunk.

Mozart: …. You want to see how I look when I’m intoxicated?

The surprise only lasts for a few moments though, before Mozart’s expression softens.

Mozart: Very well. I’ll show you as many times as you’d like.

He continues pleasuring MC, bidding her to show him her face as well; drunk not on spirits, but on his kisses.

Note: This is where the paid epilogue starts.

—

Epilogue Preview

When he gazes at you with such heated eyes, even your embarrassment melts away ——

Mozart: .... Haa....

As our tongues entwine, the hand resting on my nape moves as if to arouse even more desire within me.

(Rather than champagne, I feel like Mozart’s kisses have the higher alcohol content. I’m getting drunk on them. My body is heating up and my head is getting fuzzy....)

Mozart: ... Looks like this isn’t enough for you either, MC.

MC: That’s... mhm....

As if in praise, Mozart caresses the place I want him most, and a throbbing ache pulses deep inside my body.

Mozart: Let me see your face, MC.

Mozart’s tongue crawls up the arm covering my face, sinking his fangs in....

MC: Ah... nhng....

Mozart: Ha.... Even though you said that it was fine if I didn’t remember, it’s impossible. Your taste, I won’t forget it no matter how drunk I get.

—

Jean Route | Theodorus Route | Event Info

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #mozart #ers #story event #shyness melts into a cocktail #jp ikevamp #november 2019

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nightimedreamersworld · 4 years ago

Note

I love you prompt, In a blissful sigh as you fall asleep? 💜💜💜

Hi!! Thanks so much for the prompt 😄💞 I really hope you like this little thing!

From this list of prompts - I'm still taking them!

There you go:

25. In a blissful sigh as you fall asleep

00:57

I wake up to the faint creaking of the mattress as Snow sits up.

"It's done. I did it," he says, disbelieving, and I can hear the smile on his voice. He chuckles. "It's over, Baz!"

"Hmmm?" I mumble, still half asleep. I turn on my side to face him, and the brightness coming from his laptop is blinding. I squeeze my eyes shut. "Congrats, love. What was it?"

"My last paper for this term," Simon says, his grin radiant as the screen. He shuts the laptop and puts it on the bedside table, collapsing back onto the pillows right after.

"That's great," I say, holding back a yawn. "Now you can go to sleep. Finally."

"Yeah." He turns to me briefly, dropping a kiss on my forehead. "Good night, Baz. Sorry for keeping you awake for so long."

I don't answer, just sigh. (I haven't been complaining, since Simon spent the last hour playing with my hair absentmindedly while writing a last-minute paper he procrastinated to write for two weeks.)

These have been busy days for both of us—the last weeks of the term culminating in piles of papers and exams. We're both exhausted, so it's comforting to know it's over. That we're finally free to just… hold each other.

That's what I'm about to do, my arms sneaking around Snow's hips, but then he stirs again.

"Wait," he mumbles, "I need to brush my teeth. Be right back."

I huff as he gets up and heads to the bathroom. I glance quickly at the clock on our bedside table—it's 01:02 AM.

My eyes are heavy, so I let them close, just for a moment. Let myself breathe. Count a breath in, another out…

I jolt awake when the bed creaks, Simon climbing up beside me. He promptly takes me in his arms, and suddenly everything feels better. Warm. Complete.

His heat enveloping me. I feel his tail curl around my calf, one of his wings covering us.

I sigh, contentedly.

01:32

It isn't long before Simon starts turning over again. He's quiet at first, just changing the angle he's holding me, barely moving.

At some point, he lets go of me, and I can feel him sit up. I turn my head to him, groggily.

"What is it?" I mumble, voice thick with sleep. I can only make out his silhouette.

"I just feel hot," he whispers, hugging me again. I feel his bare chest pressing against my back. "It's okay. Go back to sleep."

I nod weakly, nestling myself on his arms once more.

01:45

"Hey… Baz? Baz," I wake up to Snow touching my shoulder, lightly shaking me. "Are you awake?"

"I am now," I groan, feeling a pang of frustration. "What do you want?" It comes out a bit harsher than I intended, but I don't care about it now. I'm too tired to keep my filters.

"I just wanted to ask, well… do you mind if we turn over?"

"What?" I frown, even though he can't see me.

"Turn over. Switch sides. You know," Snow says, and I sigh again.

"No, Snow. I don't mind."

02:24

We switch sides. I spell his wings off—hopefully the spell will last through the night—and switch positions as well, me as the big spoon. Snow gets up at some point and heads to the kitchen, to drink a cup of water.

Still, he doesn't stop moving. Stirring. Sighing.

Finally, I grunt, letting go of him and retreating to my own side of the bed.

"What? Are you really abandoning me?" My eyes are closed, so I can't see his pout. (I can hear it in his voice, though).

"Sorry, love," it doesn't come out affectionate, "but I really need to sleep. I feel deader than normal. Don't take it personally."

But he does, the gorgeous nightmare. Of course he does.

03:05

"Baz. Baz? Baaaazzzzz—"

I throw a pillow at his face to shut him up. Snow dismisses it with a giggle.

"Baz, I can't sleep," he whines, crossing the borders of our bed and invading my side.

"Snow, I swear to Crowley, if you don't let me sleep—"

"Baz. I can't," he says, huffing. "I don't know why, but I just can't sleep."

I turn to face him, reach out to him—my hand finds his, tangled in his hair, tugging at his curls. I take it and squeeze before he can continue yanking at his hair.

"What is happening, love?" I ask, softer, holding his hand.

"It's like I just can't turn my brain off," he says, his voice exasperated, and I scoot closer, laying my head on the crook of his neck.

"Okay, then, we'll have to do something about that," I say, sitting up. "I can't just let you stay up all night on your own. What kind of awful boyfriend would I be then?"

He laughs, lightly. "Well, love, we're both terrible at the boyfriend business, so…"

"Sod off," I poke at his arm. "Anyway, if you can't sleep, then I'm just going to stay up with you."

"But what if I stay up all night?"

"Then, at least, we can get some fun out of it," I say. Half-heartedly.

03:57

It takes me half an hour to explain the rules to him.

We're playing cards—the most boring game I could think of, to try and see if it'll make Snow sleepy. He's still making mistakes, and I have to interrupt him every ten seconds to correct something. At some point, we give up on the rules and start making our own.

It doesn't take long until it gets boring. Then, we try to play chess—unsuccessfully, though that's my fault. I keep trying to move his pieces (it isn't intentional).

We're both brainless. At the moment, neither of us can be coherent, and my vision is blurry, unfocused. Besides, I feel a bit… off myself. Like my body is too light and too heavy at the same time. It's dizzying.

We have plenty of other games to play—and books to read, as Snow suggests, in hopes it might help him calm down enough to sleep. But I just can't anymore. When I try to read something to him, one of his books from Uni (from the most boring subject, no less), it's like the words are popping up the page and floating before my eyes.

And still, Simon can't sleep.

04:31

"What if you just… close your eyes? Count sheep?" I suggest when we go back to bed, giving up on everything else.

"I tried, Baz. I really did," Snow huffs, hopelessly, raking a hand through his hair.

"Okay," I sigh, rubbing my face. I can see him better now. The sky outside is getting clearer by the minute, as sunrise approaches. "Let's try this… what if we listen to some music?" I ask, picking up my phone. "I have an instrumental music playlist. It's really soothing, so maybe it will work." I don't mean it as a question, but my voice slips.

"Yeah, let's try that," Simon agrees, resting his head on my shoulder, his hand on my chest.

The music starts playing, softly, steadily. I pay attention to Snow's breathing, to the puff of his breath against my cheek, to the heat of him against my skin. Trying to figure out if he's falling asleep. Trying keep myself from giving in.

But sleep is so close, like a blanket hanging around my shoulders, waiting for me to pull it over my head. To tuck myself in its snug embrace.

I'm drifting…

05:16

"Baz?"

My sleep is light as a feather, but so is his touch—his lips on my cheek, his fingers brushing my forehead. "Thank you."

"Hmm?" I crack an eye open to look at him. "For what?"

Simon smiles softly. Sleepily. "For staying with me."

The sun is rising. It's Saturday, and we don't need to worry about anything. We can sleep all day.

I kiss his forehead. "Always, love."

He snuggles closer to me. "I love you," he says, the words melting into a blissful sigh as his breath evens out.

He's finally asleep.

"I love you too, Simon."

#carry on series #carry on fanfiction #carry on rainbow rowell #simon snow series #simon snow fic

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harrylee94 · 4 years ago

Text

Log Entry XXXXXX - Chapter 1

Summary: A new space station, complete with the most high spec and up to date technology there is to offer, has been set up at the edge of the known universe, a new way point for explorers to keep in contact with the rest of the human race. It has been carefully designed by the best scientists and engineers Earth could offer, and now 7 brave souls are being sent out to ensure everything works perfectly.

However, when Logan wakes from cryosleep from the journey, he is informed that several things are now in need of repair, though everything had been in perfect working condition when the station had been reconstructed before he and his crew had arrived. They will have to solve the problems they've been left with before the station is up and running, and yet Logan can't help but feel he's done this before...

Relationships: Intrulogical (Remus/Logan)

Warnings: Blood, Gore, Parasites, Remus having an overactive imagination, It’s an Among Us crossover so there will be bad stuff afoot.

A/N: For those of you who don't know, this story is based off of a comic by @fangirltothefullest which I HIGHLY recommend you check them out on the link above! Their art is AMAZING.

Note to everyone before we begin; there will be graphic descriptions of gore, dismemberment, possibly torture, and any other awful things that come with the territory of writing a story in an Among Us universe.

To read it on AO3 please click here.

Chapter 1: Log Entry #1

Stardate: October 17th XX20. 6:00 AM

Logan blinked his eyes open as the dim light of the cryodeck slowly brightened, emulating the rising of the sun back on Earth and offering a gentle escape from his induced hibernation. He waited patiently as his body began to realise that it was awake again and started to carefully move each digit. The tingle of pins and needles washed over him like a wave, but he'd been expecting it; he had taken the chance to research the effects that cryosleep would leave on the body, and had found it quite a fascinating read. Apparently it was very similar to freezing meat the preserve it, but the science behind it meant that the human body would be kept alive throughout the process, just severely slowed down, so when the process was reversed the human body had to take some time to recover. Hence the pins and needles.

He was just starting to curl his hands into fists when he heard the thud and slap of a body hitting the floor nearby, shortly followed by a long, low groan.

"You're supposed to wait until your blood flow has returned to normal," Logan said, his voice cracking for disuse.

The groan sounded again, followed by the sound of whoever it was who had decided that getting out of the pod immediately was a good idea crawling closer before a blurred dark head of hair with a streak of white revealed itself over the edge. Logan frowned.

"I thought Virgil was supposed to be in the same chamber as me."

Remus pouted. "Aw, don't you love me anymore, Ana-Logie?"

Logan raised an eyebrow at him at the nickname. "We were given specific cryochambers in which we were to be stored during our journey here. I can recall quite clearly that you were supposed to be with Roman while Virgil had been positioned next to myself."

Remus blew a raspberry at him and folded his arms over the edge of Logan's resting place, setting his chin on them. "Since when do I do what I'm told?"

That was a good point. "Then where is Virgil?"

"We swapped," Remus replied, biting his lip as he looked Logan up and down. "I didn't want to end up burning in an oxygen fuelled explosion and disappearing into the empty void of space unless it was by your side."

Logan smiled softly up at him and pulled his still tingling arm up to cup his cheek, humming when Remus leaned into it. "It is highly unlikely that we would have died in our journey. Everything was monitored by several A.I. systems, all of which have been tested on hundreds of previous missions. The chances of failure were miniscule."

"But it was possible," Remus said, his grin stretching the way it always did when he was thinking of something disturbing. "The cryochambers could have malfunctioned, turning us into frozen chickens, and we would have shattered into a thousand pieces when the chambers tipped over, which would have melted and we would have been all these bloody bits of bone and flesh, all mixing all over the floor, like a swamp where all the fish have died and it's turned the water rancid, and then the maggot and flies would have feasted on--"

Logan pulled himself up and shut him up with a kiss, making Remus freeze for a second before relaxing into him. Fingers wove into his hair, and the scientist sighed into Remus's mouth before pulling away, eliciting a moan from the man. "We didn't. We're fine. We are both awake and alive, and it is time we change."

"But I like you in skin tight latex," Remus said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"It would be more accurate to call this a synthetic polymer," Logan told him, pushing himself into a seated position and reaching past Remus for the glasses that had been stored in the side of the cryochamber, slipping them onto his nose he gave Remus an expectant look. "You know the only reason we would have been awoken would be that our arrival to the Station was imminent. I would much prefer it if you were wearing the correct safety gear for when we arrive."

"But wouldn't it be interesting to see what it was like for a human body to be exposed to the vacuum of space?" Remus asked, only to cackle when Logan pushed his face away.

"Get changed, Remus."

_______________________________

Stardate: October 17th XX20. 7:04 AM

Logan shifted the weight of his helmet under his arm as he headed towards the depressurisation chamber, the ship itself having docked only a few minutes after he and presumably everyone else had been awoken. Remus had taken every chance he could get to distract him and slow him down, so his usual twenty minute change into his suit had been prolonged, and he hadn't noticed the message until he was almost out the door.

Each member of the team had a set of keys, a security card and a tablet. Normally Logan would have checked the tablet for any news as soon as he had awoken, but it was only now he was stepping through the last door that he was reading the most recent message.

"Wasn't it supposed to be brand, spanking new?" Remus asked from where he was reading over Logan's shoulder. "Just spanking new?"

"Yes, that was the case," Logan said with a sigh, putting the tablet away in its pouch as the door closed behind him.

They were the last to arrive, as he had expected, and he did not appreciate the smug look that Janus was sending their way from where he was lounging in one of the seats near to a crate of supplies. Virgil was currently being led by Patton through some breathing exercises on the other side of the room while Roman rubbed his back in comfort. Orange was, as always, minding his own business, scrolling through his own tablet in the corner, his helmet beside him and ready to go. Remus immediately took the opportunity to flop on his friend in the yellow suit, much to Janus's chagrin, and Logan sighed.

"I take it everyone is aware of the situation we currently find ourselves in," he said, looking at each of them to observe their reactions before continuing. "It seems that the Station has been damaged in transit, so it will be our main focus in the upcoming days to repair the systems. It shouldn't take more than a day I expect."

"But what... What if it was something else?" Virgil asked between breaths, his eyes deeply shadowed despite the long sleep. "What if it was sabotage?"

"Yeah," Remus agreed with his usual grin. "What if it was the engineers who built it; maybe they made it to malfunction and kill us all! Or it could be a new HAL 9000, ready to blast us off into space one by one. Or maybe aliens-!"

Janus shoved him off his lap, shutting him up before Roman, who had been turning an alarming shade that almost matched his suit, could step in, Virgil's breathing becoming more erratic with each suggestion.

"The likelihood of it being anything other than some damage caused by transit is slim to none," Logan told them, adjusting his glasses. "I assure you, there is no reason to be afraid."

"And I shall be there to protect you," Roman said, placing a hand on his chest and posing as much as he could without removing himself from Virgil's side. "As is my sworn duty. No harm shall come to you as long as I am by your side."

Virgil did not look entirely convinced, but he nodded all the same, smiling at the flamboyant display.

"Either way, as we are all now here and have presumably taken a sufficient and healthy breakfast, shall we proceed?" Logan suggested.

Patton raised a hand.

"You don't have to raise your hand to speak, Patton."

"Oh, well then," the man in the light blue suit said with a happy grin. "I was just wondering if chocolate chip pancakes were healthy."

Logan blinked at him. "How can you-?"

"Yes, Pat, they're perfectly healthy!" Roman exclaimed, pulling Virgil towards the door. "Now let's go!"

Orange huffed and rose to his feet as he donned his helmet. "We're all ready, Blue."

"Yes, well," Logan said, adjusting his glasses one last time before twisting his own helmet into place. "I suppose so. Helmets everyone."

"Do we have to?" Remus moaned from where he'd been rolling around on the floor. "Wouldn't it be more fun if we-?"

"Put on the damn helmet, you rat in human form," Janus almost hissed, kicking him in the side for good measure. Remus laughed but put his helmet on, being the very last to do so, and shot up to his feet where he bounced in place as he waited, like a child on a sugar high.

The doors hissed as they opened, sliding apart to reveal the Sanders Space Station, the hallways near spotless and the lights bright and clean. It was almost like stepping into an Ikea or a show room, even coming with the smell of disinfectant, but a lot more technical. Having memorised the map over breakfast, Logan led the way through the maze of corridors to the cafeteria, as good a place as any to be called a base of operations, and stood by the central table as he waited for the six others to gather around. From the looks of it the integrity of the walls seemed intact, and nothing serious was wrong, as they knew, but still, it was better to err on the side of caution while they had yet to determine the status of the air.

"I thought we already had breakfast" Orange said, looking around in confusion.

"I thought it would be a good idea to set up a-" Logan pulled out his tablet and looked through his notes, "-'home base'. There are many tasks for us to do and I believe it would be more efficient if we split up to achieve them as quickly as possible."

"Because there is no 'I' in 'team'!" Patton agreed with a bright smile.

"Correct, you do not spell 'team' with the letter 'I'," Logan agreed with a nod, ignoring how several of the others snickered. "Now, from the list that has been sent to each of our tablets I can see that the Reactor has yet to be started, so I would suggest that Orange, as the most qualified with such things, would be perfect for the task." Orange hummed. "The engine would be a good place for you to move once you have completed that. Patton, I would suggest you take charge everything in Navigation, and Janus can take charge of tasks in Communications."

"I take it I've got the Medbay?" Virgil asked, his arms wrapped around himself, something he tended to do when he couldn't put his hands into his pockets.

"I'll go with you, Charlie Frown," Roman said, nudging him with his elbow.

"Actually, Roman, I was hoping you could-" Logan began but Roman waved him off.

"I will continue to ensure the safety of this vessel at Virgil's side," he said. "There's no need to worry, Specs."

"... Indeed," Logan drawled, turning to Remus at his side. "In which case, you can be in charge of the Weapons section. You and Roman can decide who can tackle the other sections that involve the security of the station."

As expected, Remus pulled him in for a hug, their helmets banging together as he tried to squeeze him through the fabric. "You're the best, my bleeding, puss riddled heart."

"Is there anything else we will be needed for in the near future?" Janus asked as the others either made disgusted faces as Remus's nickname or snorted as Logan tried to extricate himself from his partner's grasp.

"Uh, I just want you all to know that, should you come across any problems you come across that you believe will need a group effort, just set off the beacon in our suits and we can all meet back here. Any other tasks -- Remus would you put me down -- any other tasks you can do would be helpful."

"Sounds good," Orange said and spun on the spot, heading towards the reactor with a lazy wave over his shoulder. Roman and Virgil followed him soon after, the Medbay between the cafeteria and the reactor, and Janus went on his own towards the Communications room.

"Isn't this exciting?" Patton asked with a bounce. "I'm over the moon about everything!"

Logan sighed. It was going to be a long day.

_______________________________

Stardate: October 17th XX20. 11:27 AM

Logan had spent the better part of four hours trying to ensure that the oxygen filter was in correct working condition, along with all the wiring and such, but at last he felt he could safely say that it was up and running. For the last half an hour he'd been checking the oxygen levels in the Station and was pleasantly surprised to find that they had always been capable of supporting human life, so he checked it off his list with a satisfied smile.

He had heard Patton working in Navigation nearby, and Remus's maniacal laughter as he blasted the various detritus that had been gathering around the Station through the gun systems had been an enjoyable accompaniment, if a bit annoying after a while, and highly unnecessary, but now, as he rose to his feet, he could appreciate a break. Heading out into the corridor he took a quick left turn and came up behind Remus, who was sat on the the seat in the centre of the control area, and watched as he blasted a few more things on the screens.

"Take that you dry buttholes!" the man in green yelled as something exploded into dust on the right screen.

"Having fun?"

Remus immediately spun the chair around and pulled Logan into his lap. "Nerdy Wolverine!" he said, making sure Logan was straddling his lap and wrapping his arms around his back. "Here to give me a saucy lap dance?"

"I've actually decided that it was about time I had a break," Logan informed him, keeping his distance by setting his hands against Remus's shoulders. "That and..." He pushed himself back enough to be able to sit up without falling into his partner's chest and removed his helmet. "The air is breathable."

Remus stared at him for a few seconds before scrambling to remove his own and dropping them both to the floor with hollow thuds as he puled Logan in to kiss him thoroughly and invasively. Logan was all too happy to respond, grasping at the metal ring of Remus's collar. They had been asleep for years, travelling light years away from home, away from everything they knew, and while it might have been only a single sleep for them, it still felt like forever.

And yet the moment was broken, the beacon in their suits blaring loudly at them, and Logan pushed himself away from Remus in surprise.

"I'm going to disembowel whoever did that," Remus grumbled, allowing Logan up.

"I'd prefer it if you didn't."

"Don't be alarmed!" Patton said as he came in behind them. "I'm sure it's-. Hey! Your helmets are off!"

"Yes, the air is safe to breathe," Logan said, pulling Remus up.

"Did you do this?" the moustached man demanded with a sharp finger.

"No," Patton said with a frown. "I was just making sure the steering was straight and true."

Remus continued to glare at him for a few seconds before turning away, following Logan into the cafeteria.

No one else had arrived yet, though the three of them had been the closest to the cafeteria, and so Logan sat himself down at the central table as Remus wandered around the room, taking out his tablet to check on the tasks that still needed doing in the ship. From the looks of things they seemed to be on schedule, so whatever this was would only be a small hiccup in the scheme of things. Roman and Virgil had entered the room as he'd been studying the list, but still there was no sign of Orange or Janus.

"So we can take our helmets off now?" Roman asked as he looked between the three of them, all of them now bare-headed. "Thank God." He removed it quickly and set it down on the table, Virgil following his example, though he kept hold of it as they sat.

"Where's Orange?" Patton asked, looking past them.

"Oh, he's probably just-"

"He's dead."

Everyone turned to the door opposite the windows that showed the great expanse of space beyond. Janus stood there, leaning against the frame. There was a thick, shiny red liquid on his glove and smeared over his thigh.

"... What?"

_______________________________

Stardate: October 17th XX20. 11:51 AM

Orange was lying face up in the storage area next to the fuel tank, a smear of blood on the floor beside him, undoubtedly where he'd been lying face down before Janus had found him, as the majority of the front of the suit had been stained with his blood, and there was an uneven tear, revealing a mess of flesh, internal organs and bodily fluids. Blank eyes stared up through a cracked helmet. The six of them were stood around it in shock.

"... Are we sure we're alone on this ship?" Virgil asked after what had felt like an eternity of silence.

"We... We should be," Logan said, uncertainty rocking his foundations. This was supposed to be a safe mission. They were supposed to man the station until the rest of the crew arrived. They were only supposed to make sure everything was in working order. They were supposed to be safe!

"Should be?" Janus repeated with a sneer. "Orange is dead!"

"Yes! I've noticed that!" Logan snapped back, rubbing at his mouth as he watched Remus examine the body. "This... This shouldn't have happened."

"Well it did, didn't it," Roman said.

"What.... What should we do?" Patton asked, looking between each of them.

"We should put Orange in his cryotube before his bowels empty themselves everywhere," Remus said, getting to his feet. "Though I doubt we'll make it in time."

"Yes but, after that."

"Staying in groups," Logan said with a decisive nod. "Two or three per group at least. The more of us there are the less likely we'll be..."

"I'm with Log-in," Remus said, looking around the room and picking up a crate lid to shift Orange's body onto. "Need a hand, Ro. And preferably the rest of the body as well."

"Can you not!" Roman said in disgust but helped him move Orange onto the make-shift stretcher. "Storm Cloud, you're with me."

"Yeah, I'm not complaining," Virgil said.

Patton turned to Janus with an uneasy smile. "Well, I guess that means it's you and me-"

"I'll tag along with you two," the man in yellow said, pointing between Roman and Virgil.

"-Logan and Remus!" Patton continued as though that had been what he'd intended to say all along.

"Alright," Logan said and moved ahead of the brothers to ensure the pathways was clear for them. "Let's... get this over with."

_______________________________

Stardate: October 17th XX20. 12:20 PM

Orange had been sealed into his cryochamber, a task that had taken more effort than any of them had wanted, and there were now a few empty stomachs after smelling the half digested remains of his breakfast. Knowing the workings of death was not the same as experiencing them and no one was ready, not even Remus who was looking paler than usual. They were back in the cafeteria, sitting at the table and keeping an eye on all the entrances both Roman and Remus now with patches of blood on their suits from having to physically having to move the body.

Normally at his time Logan would have suggested they east something, but he knew none of them would be able to keep it down.

"What should we do?" Virgil asked, helmet now firmly back in place. "We can't just... wait here to get murdered."

"Logan did say that the more of us there are in one group, the more likely we'll be able to defend ourselves," Patton said with a forced smile. "Why don't we just, you know, stick together?"

"But then the alien might be going around sabotaging the Station," Remus pointed out, eyes flickering to every shadow as he touched each finger to his thumbs over and over again. "I mean, did Orange finish working on the reactor? And the engines; what if we weren't where we needed to be when the rest of the team arrives? They'd have to search for us, and that could take weeks! And then there's the Oxygen-"

As though Remus's words had been a prophecy the Station's alarm sounded and a yellow light flashed.

"Next time, keep your mouth shut," Janus said, pushing himself up from the table.

"We have to get to two panels," Logan informed them, painfully aware of the countdown that the overhead had begun in a tinny voice. "There's one in Admin and another next to the oxygen filter."

"We'll take Admin," Roman said, nodding to Janus and leading both him and Virgil in the right direction.

Logan, meanwhile, headed back to the oxygen station, but before he could get too far Remus caught his shoulder.

"Remus-"

"I'll go first," he said, moving ahead as he sent a grin his way. "If anyone's going to get disembowelled by a murdering alien it's me."

Logan felt almost physically sick at the thought but gave him a nod and followed behind.

Though there were only a few corners to turn to reach their destination, each one held a horrible danger and a potentially deadly encounter, turning the once safe and comforting realm into a nightmare. They held their breath as they stepped into the oxygen lab and Remus stood guard at the door, letting Logan get on with repairing the error. Although Patton's fidgeting at the side was a little distracting, Logan did notice that the error was actually fairly easy to fix, and it seemed to have been created remotely. That was odd. Very odd indeed. The only way for that to happen would be-

The voice stopped its countdown and the lights went back to their sterile glare as he closed the casing, confirming that the others had fixed their end, and they all relaxed minutely.

"That was a close call," Patton said, undoubtedly trying to sound optimistic but the wobble in his voice broke the illusion.

Logan nodded. "Let's go back to the cafeteria."

The three of them moved carefully back towards their meeting place, constantly on guard and feeling incredibly vulnerable with every step. It was an oversight to not keep something on the Station with which to defend themselves, and it was something Logan would certainly be bringing up with their eventual co-workers, but for now all they had was their suits and their tablets.

The cafeteria was empty and quiet when they returned, the vast expanse of space looming dark and cold out the thick, reinforced windows. Against all logical reasoning it made Logan feel more alone than ever and he reached out for Remus's hand, which he took with a squeeze in silence. They wandered to the central table, clustering together as they watched the door to Admin, waiting. Seconds passed, and those seconds turned into minutes, until the tension in the air could be cut with a knife.

"They should be back by now," Logan said, pressing closer to Remus's side.

"May... Maybe they went to check on the engines," Patton suggested, having come to stand on Remus's other side.

Remus continued to watch the stretch of corridor for a few moments, his face more blank -- more serious -- than Logan could ever remember seeing it before. "We should check."

Patton swallowed. "D-do we have to?"

There was another long pause before Remus nodded and he looked between the two of them. "I don't think they've gone to the engines."

Logan swallowed but nodded, having come to a similar conclusion himself. They would have returned here as soon as the oxygen situation had been resolved. He released Remus's hand to give him greater movement and followed close behind him when they headed onwards.

Each step seemed to echo, their breaths loud in his ears and the air was almost too cold. He didn't know what to expect, so his mind created images for him; a craze worker left behind by the construction crew wielding a bloody screwdriver, an android system that had become corrupted and was disguising itself as the very walls around them, some alien creature from the movies he and Remus had watched late at night back on Earth, using the shadows, the ceiling, and whatever else it could to get to them without being seen. Whatever it was it was still out there.

It was still out there, and it had killed not only Orange, but Janus as well.

The once yellow suit was now almost entirely saturated with blood, the domed glass of the helmet shattered and Janus's face stuck in a look of shock. Logan didn't know where all the blood had come from exactly, but it had started to pool around the body, and he stepped closer, almost hypnotised by it. The human body held approximately 10 pints of blood. There were a myriad of veins in the body. Janus was dead. If a main artery was punctured, say in the leg, neck or arm, it would take 30 seconds before unconsciousness and 3 minutes until death. Janus was dead. Similarly it could take up to 5 minutes to die if the heart was--

"Logan!"

He blinked, surprised to find Remus was holding his face.

"Hey, Nerdy Wolverine. You back with me?"

Logan blinked again and nodded.

"Good," he said, planting a kiss on his brow. "Now, we still don't know where Roman and Virgil are. It might be that they were taken by whoever-"

Darkness. Complete and utter blackness fell over them, the lights clicking off. Patton squeaked in fright somewhere near the door. Logan clutched at Remus. Remus pulled Logan close.

"Electrical," Logan said. "We have to go to electrical to fix the lights."

"How can we fix it if we can't see?" Remus asked, his warm breath brushing against Logan's cheek.

"The panel should have some battery powered light in it," Logan said, cursing that he'd left his helmet in the weapons bay; though it wasn't much they had a small light in them, one which would have been incredibly useful now. "Patton, can you come closer so we can all stick together?"

Silence.

"... Patton?"

Still nothing.

"Logan," Remus said, his voice low, almost a whisper. "I think..."

Logan's grip on Remus tightened and he nodded, the cold seeping into him as they stepped forwards together, creeping through the blackness. Until their feet hit something soft and wet. Logan whimpered.

"We have to get to the shuttle," Remus said, starting to pull Logan down the hallway, leaving Patton's corpse behind them. "We can lock the doors behind us and-"

"What about Roman and Virgil?"

"They're probably dead," Remus said, choking on the word but pausing all the same. "They're probably in pieces. Roman... We can't think about them. We-" The words cut off, choked with a gasp, and Logan felt him stiffen.

"R-Remus?"

"Logan... I love you. I love... I love you so much." Remus said, his voice wet and broken. He could hear a smile in his voice, and then he felt him fall. "You're... the best thing that ever happened to me."

"I love you too," he replied, tears streaming down his cheeks as he collapsed down beside him, reaching for his face to hold him. "Remus. Remus I love you so much." He could feel a presence behind him, the certainty of death creeping over him, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Remus had stopped moving had stopped breathing, and he sobbed in agony at the loss until he felt something sharp and serrated slice through the flesh of his throat.

It takes 30 seconds of blood loss from a main artery until unconsciousness...

_______________________________

Stardate: October 17th XX20. 6:00 AM

Logan blinked his eyes open as the dim light of the cryodeck slowly brightened, emulating the rising of the sun back on Earth and offering a gentle escape from his induced hibernation. He waited patiently as his body began to realise that it was awake again and started to carefully move each digit. The tingle of pins and needles washed over him like a wave, but he'd been expecting it; he had taken the chance to research the effects that cryosleep would leave on the body, and had found it quite a fascinating read. Apparently it was very similar to freezing meat to preserve it, but the science behind it meant that the human body would be kept alive throughout the process, just severely slowed down, so when the process was reversed the human body had to take some time to recover. Hence the pins and needles.

He was just starting to curl his hands into fists when he heard the thud and slap of a body hitting the floor nearby, shortly followed by a long, low groan.

"You're supposed to wait until your blood flow has... returned to normal," Logan said, his voice cracking in a somehow familiar way.

"Have... Have we done this before?"

#writing #me #my stuff #fanfiction #sanders sides #among us #sanders side fic #sanders sides among us au #logan sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #orange sanders #tw blood #tw gore #tw character death #time loop

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tsipasce · 4 years ago

Text

Same Difference, ch.03

A/N: so two cute idiots walk into a tea shop...

Chapters: 01 | 02 | 04

AO3 | Fanfic

Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shiiiiiiit. She thought as she shakily sipped the tea she had just made. It had been an hour or so since she escaped, and the gravity of the situation once again settled on Nanami’s shoulders. She realized just what it meant to have left her purse in his car. If it had just been her phone and cards, she could go and replace them, but what really concerned her was her I.D. If there was any sensitive information he was after, he was certainly going to find it on there. “He knows my address…” she realized aloud.

No amount of SleepyTime tea would be able to fix this. I’m doomed...

It was getting late in the day and without any of her cards or phones, she was stranded in her apartment, waiting for the worst. However, she did have some old pots and pans lying around. It’s not the strongest metal, but it’ll at least make a lot of noise if they’re broken and give me time to escape if shit hits the fan. She broke down the metal objects and reformed them into a considerable amount of deadbolt locks on her front door and windows. As she went to check how things looked outside, she saw it: It’s that same damn car.

Nanami immediately shut her blinds and had a mini freak-out. Why in the world did I think they wouldn’t follow me? Fmllll.

Freaking out wasn’t helping, so she decided to refocus and calm herself by planning and researching her would-be opponent. If he decided to make good on his last threat, she at least needed to know who she was up against. She pulled out her laptop and remembered she was able to check her phone notifications through it. There were no notifications and for the first time she was glad her inbox was so dry. Clearing her mind, she tried to remember details that would tell her who she was up against.

“Overhaul”. That’s what the driver seemed to call him. Is that his villian name? Nanami figured it was worth a shot, assuming she’d probably find some petty criminal’s rap sheet. Though if she was being honest with herself, he was much more intimidating than your average delinquent. She pulled up Boogle and searched the name. She unfortunately got her answer.

… You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

It was then that all of the hints she had missed before came crashing down as she saw the words “yakuza” and “Hassakai” plastered on her screen. She had to be the unluckiest woman alive, she was thoroughly convinced of that now.

After taking a personal moment to scream into one of the throw pillows on her sofa, Nanami decided to press onward in the hopes of finding out about his quirk. He hadn’t been able to use it yesterday, but she was sure he would try again if given the chance. This piece of information was much harder to find, but not impossible. A couple gruesome articles later and she found what she was looking for. The article read “ His quirk is suspected to involve the disassembly and reassembly of anything that he touches at a molecular structural level upon touching the target with his bare hands.”

She reread, and then reread it again. And again. This is impossible. “That’s my quirk.” Though she had to keep it a secret most of her life, she suddenly felt almost angry that someone else had it, that he had it. She hid her powers, always being careful to understate her quirk, then here comes this asshole using it without a care in the world. The more she thought about it, the more she began to question whether she was angrier at him for owning it, or at herself for rejecting it. Before she could make the existential breakthrough, the Dr. Nanami Watanabe part of her brain brought up the obvious question, rousing her from her thoughts:

“How in the world do two people that aren’t related have the exact same quirk? Has that ever even happened before? What does this even mean?” she had to ask herself aloud. I have to talk to him, she realized, grimacing at the thought.

It would be incredibly dangerous given who he is, but as it stood, he had all her information—probably more considering his connections—and she couldn’t talk to anyone else about it and risk getting them involved. Besides, for whatever reason, he wasn’t able to use it on me the last time. Maybe it was just a fluke, but I have to at least try and find out. Considering this, his behavior (well, some of it) began to make sense. If she were a yakuza boss and found out someone else was walking around with your very specific, and possibly very destructive quirk, she’d probably want to have a talk with them too.

Cautiously looking out the window, the car was still there. It was a long shot, but she hoped they had her phone in front of them so she could send a civil invitation to meet from a distance. She reopened the phone messenger on her laptop and began to type. Nanami had written a lot of serious messages in her life, but this one definitely took the cake.

After rewriting it a couple times she settled on a riveting, final draft:

Dear Overhaul,

I know who you are. Let’s chat.

*send*

Looking at the message, she commented dryly “I should’ve just dropped out of med school and become a writer. Great work, Nanami *facepalm*”. After a message like that, she was sure he’d think she was an idiot and she wouldn’t blame him one bit. He may not respond, but at least she can say she tried. If he agrees, then there’s a slight chance we could come to an understanding and he won’t merc me on sight. Maybe.

Just as doubt was about to rear its ugly head, three dots appeared.

Nanami’s eyes were glued to the screen in anticipation while her ears were still straining to hear if there was any commotion outside her door. The dots disappear.

“Tomorrow at 8AM.” The text read. She wasn’t sure if it was the man himself, but it didn’t matter. Death threats or not, she didn’t wake up that early on a Sunday for anyone but the Lord himself.

“No can do. Tomorrow, noon, at Matcha Mastery” She replied. If anything went down, she at least wanted to get one last fix from her favorite shop.

The three dots appeared and reappeared at least 4 times. Whoever was responding was being careful about what they wrote.

“Fine.”

Or not..

And just like that, she had a date with the devil for tea.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Sleeping was near-impossible that night. Though she had set a time and place, there was also little stopping him from sending in a couple of his “colleagues” to make a preemptive strike. Thankfully, the night went by without incident, the mysterious car having only left at daybreak. After checking her locks one more time, Nanami set an alarm for 11:00 AM and passed out.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The alarm blared and she woke up with a start, the anxiety from the day before bubbling up to the surface. After going through her usual routine, she went to her closet and stared blankly. She had never been more confused as to what to wear, it was a meeting with a class B villain, after all. Do I wear a sensible pantsuit or a dramatic gown with a fur coat made of dalmatian puppies? Thinking it best to be as inconspicuous as possible, she went for a third option: her favorite sleeveless black turtleneck, some high-rise jeans with a black leather belt and black leather boots. Putting her hair into her signature ponytail, she checked her watch, “11:45, just enough time to walk there.”

Though she’d made this walk a hundred times, today it felt excruciatingly long. She’d say it was like marching to her own execution, but thought it best not to speak something with such a high probability into existence. Five minutes later and she had arrived.

There were only a few other people in the small shop, but she thought it best to sit upstairs in one of the private rooms. She put in her order and headed upstairs to wait and mentally prepare. Enough privacy where they won’t be able to hear our conversation, but public enough that I can call for help if things go south, she plotted internally. Just then, her order was called, and she headed down the stairs. As she took the last step she heard someone else come in and looked towards the door to see him there. He hadn’t noticed her yet and went to order. For a moment, she observed him from afar. He wasn’t wearing his signature mask or jacket, but donned a simple black mask, button-down shirt and slacks with a gray tie instead. She was surprised at how different he looked. Speaking of surprises, he was actually being very courteous to the staff, What a stark contrast to the guy that threw me in the back of a car yesterday… She commented inwardly. Nanami was so focused on her thoughts she didn’t realize that her stare was being returned. She quickly snapped out of it and looked away, feeling a tinge of embarrassment lightly stain her cheeks. He subtly raised an eyebrow, but his expression stayed otherwise the same.

Not wanting to lose her air of confidence so quickly, Nanami poised herself and walked confidently over, reaching past him to get her order, his eyes never leaving her. Without a word, she turned on her heel, returned to the private room upstairs and waited, her heart racing after having been that close. A few minutes later she heard someone walking up the stairs and braced herself for the encounter. Overhaul calmly walked into the small room, sat across from her, and stared. It seemed as if neither of them knew how to start the conversation which she found surprisingly comforting at first, but then she remembered why they were there in the first place.

They sat in that heavy, awkward silence for what felt like an eternity, neither one of them breaking eye contact. Nanami usually wouldn't be this hostile right off the bat, but after their encounter yesterday, she made an exception. His gaze was intense and still borderline homicidal as he studied her, but she knew she couldn't afford to show signs of weakness and look away. While focusing so intently on his eyes, she could swear she saw a tinge of curiosity. Hm. I can work with that. Truces have been made on less, right? She convinced herself, deciding it was time to put a knife to the growing tension. "Alright, let's chat." she began confidently. His eye twitched ever so slightly at this and she could tell he was still contemplating less pleasant, nonverbal forms of communication. "Why were you following me yesterday?" "No. That isn't how this is going to work. I'm questioning you." He replied sternly, almost cutting her off. "You can think that, but I'd like to remind you what happened the last time you tried to corner me with questions. How's your stomach feeling, by the way?" Nanami asked innocently, though her face was smug. At this she could see his face shift to a look of disbelief, then quickly regress to anger and a bit of embarrassment. She could tell he wasn't used to being talked to like this. She was skating on thin ice, but she'd be lying if she said she didn't enjoy watching him react. The silence continued and Nanami sipped her tea, raising her brows at him expectantly. Not being able to use his quirk to shift the balance, he came to terms with the fact that he'd have to answer her at some point. "On Friday you were snooping around Hassakai territory, accosted one of my subordinates. Then you proceeded to destroy construction site materials. It's not odd that I would have to investigate such a suspicious character." He stated matter-of-factly as he crossed his arms over his chest, sure of himself. Nanami looked around dramatically, gesturing, “Am I in the Twilight zone? That's not at all what happened. I didn't accost anyone or destroy anything, I saved him by--" she abruptly stopped, thinking it best not to confirm what he may or may not know about her quirk. Or is it “our” quirk? Gross. She then continued " I saved your subordinate and I get thanked by almost being kidnapped? Make it make sense." "If that's true, then explain how you did it. In detail." He replied, but it sounded too much like a dare. She knew what he wanted to hear but was afraid of the consequences if he got his answer. Overhaul decided to take the initiative and provoke a demonstration out of her, since the explanation was taking too long for his liking. After glancing around to ensure they were alone, he took a napkin, and wiped down her mug. Nanami was watching him intently now. He began removing his glove and she reflexively flinched at the movement, remembering the threats from yesterday. He noticed and moved slightly slower, before removing it completely. He then took her mug, examining it.

A germaphobe who has to touch things to activate his quirk, huh? No wonder he's so grumpy. Nanami thought.

Just as she was about to ask what he was doing, he raised the mug between them and disassembled it, the particles now in free fall. Before Nanami thought, she reacted, placing her hand beneath the soon-to-be mess, catching and reassembling the particles at they fell. She looked at the now intact mug and realized she had done exactly what he wanted. Crap. She hesitantly lifted her gaze to meet his and saw a hint of... wonder? Is he happy about this? She wondered, but the rest of his expression was that of suspicion. "Explain." He commanded in a low voice. She knew it was too late now. No amount of strategy would get her out of this explanation. "I.. I researched you—I mean your quirk— last night, and well… it's the same as mine. Exactly the same." She added the last part clearing her throat, now looking down, her mind going a mile a minute at the declaration. He paused a beat before responding. "It truly is a virus." He said with disgust. Say what now? Nanami had a couple of ideas as to how he'd react, but this was not one of them. "Pardon?" "Quirks. They are the virus of this generation." He continued. Still puzzled, but curious, Nanami prodded, "You mean, literally or in some philosophical, villain-y way?" "Both. Everyone has ascribed to the label of either hero or villain, intoxicated by their own delusions of grandeur. All because they've been given powers by a virus derived from rats. It's filthy." "No, no, no," Nanami mentally switched gears to become Dr. Watanabe, " while I agree hero and villain complexes can be dangerous in equal measure, and they might be a ‘moral virus', quirks are not biologically viruses. They're hereditary mutations," she stated confidently. "Well, you don't look like one of my relatives." He replied plainly, sizing her up. They both knew he had a point. " I.. I can't explain that. But it's widely known that quirks are hereditary." " Known or theorized?" " Science doesn't work that way. Even things we're almost 100% sure of are still sometimes considered theory. Doesn't make it any less true." "One, I know how science works. And two, it also doesn't make it 100% true. You can't ignore data just because it contradicts your beliefs." At this Nanami thought for a moment before deciding they needed to refocus and come to terms on a truce. "Well. What now? I can't have you tailing and threatening me with abduction." "And I can't have someone with my quirk walking around, ready to be weaponized by my enemies…How can you assure me you won't be a problem?" Is he throwing me a bone? "Look, I'm a semi-law-abiding citizen just trying to live a relatively quiet life, and I have no hero license. I haven’t the reason nor the means to cause trouble." "You already have. Yesterday I was...” He cleared his throat, “…unable to execute my quirk." Geez that sounded like it hurt to say… Nanami thought. He continued, "However, you were able to utilize yours against me. There is an imbalance and it must be rectified." "But I have no idea how that happened. It was a fluke!"

" You can't be sure of that." He stated, and she knew he was right. Just as she was afraid of coming the negotiations would come to an impasse, he continued, "But I can. Let me study you." Her eyes shot open wide at that suggestion, " And lock me away in whatever yakuza hideout cell you've probably already constructed for me? No, thank you." "So you're not the least bit curious as to why something you claim is hereditary behaves like a virus? Why you were unaffected by overhaul yesterday?" "You were going to disassemble me??" Nanami asked in disbelief, though her professional and personal curiosity were indeed piqued at the prospect of researching their shared quirk. He looked confused and answered as though she was the weird one," Of course. I was going to overhaul your arms and then return them to you once I knew the threat had been neutralized." " You were going to ‘return my arms’? How considerate of you." She said sarcastically. "But still, the answer is no." "So you're not curious?" He pushed, knowing the answer. "No. I mean yes! But I'm not going to become a lab rat." Just then, an epiphany struck her. It would be a long shot, but it was her best shot at a truce and to get her questions answered. She had to at least try.

"But I would be willing to become a lab

partner,

" she said, raising her eyebrows, hoping he would accept the proposition.

"Excuse me?"

"Well, we could work together to figure this out. We’re both looking for answers so our goal would be the same, I’m a whole ass doctor, and I can tell by how you remove your gloves you at least know basic lab practices. All you have to do is guarantee you won't harm me or anyone I associate with. I should be able to go about my life without worrying about what you might do to me... Do we have a deal?"

He paused thoughtfully, and she could tell he was genuinely considering the proposal. He looked her in the eye, searching for any signs of deception until he finally spoke, "Under one condition," She was both relieved he was going to accept and afraid of what he could possibly ask of her. " You must work in my lab under my supervision. I will also monitor you and your communications."

"Yes to your lab. No to monitoring." Nanami shot back without hesitation.

He looked vexed, and countered, "You must never speak of our arrangement, and we will have mutually agreed upon check-ins."

"... Deal."

" Good."

Nanami knew better than to offer her hand to a germaphobe and instead opted to start their partnership out on the right foot. She gracefully rose, casually brushed off her pants and walked around to his side of the table. Looking at him seriously now, she began " If we're going to be partners, let's do this properly," she then bowed as she would to any new colleague, " I look forward to working with you, Mr. Overhaul."

He was silent, and Nanami was getting nervous, not knowing how he would respond. He stared at her a beat. She couldn’t see it, but he was pleasantly stunned. Recognizing her consideration, he rose in a similar fashion and returned her gesture, "And I you, Dr. Watanabe."

#same difference #bnha fanfic #bnha #mha fanfic #mha overhaul #overhaul #chisaki kai #kai chisaki #shie hassaikai #mha chisaki #overhaul fanfiction #fanfiction #oc #mha oc #overhaul x oc

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etjwrites · 4 years ago

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OC Backstory - Antagonist Edition - Week 1: Intro

Hey guys!!!! This is SUPER late, but I'm really excited about this challenge, so I'm posting this anyway, because I want to have a complete set of prompts. Thanks to @yourocsbackstory for hosting! Introducing Queen Zorenniel, First of Her Name, of the Queendom of Hyphantria, and heir of the Faeyen, the primary antagonist of Afallon. I'll let her tell you her story:

Zora.

How ugly it looks when typed into the machines of this world. It's been over a decade, but I still can't get used to the way the letters stand so starkly against white sheets of paper. Perchance that's why, despite the passing of years, I still prefer to write longhand. In public I must I use pencil and paper to offset the stares, but in truth, my fingers yearn for the smooth shaft of a quill. I once prided myself on having the best handwriting of all, despite my beginnings as a foundling, an abandoned wretch with no talent for reading or writing until Queen Liastra recognised my potential and plucked me from the filth to rise amongst the stars. Or I would have. Khyth stole everything from me. My crown, my rightful power, my love. And the war I waged for months upon months was not enough in the end to reclaim even one of those things—though I would have them all. And I will. When I first claimed the babe, I thought I could easily obtain the Faeyen. How wrong I was. Months passed, and still I made little progress, and then when our enemies were closing in, we had to flee, finding ourselves here, in this strange time and place, where everything is too loud, and too bright, and I must type my name thousands of times into meaningless forms. And after all that, I lost her.

My only link to our world. My only way home.

It really is fortunate I found her again so young. More fortunate still that these foolish Americans are so obsessed with heritage, family, and duty. Forging the DNA papers was easy enough. Far easier than creating a whole new identity. One that designates me not as Zorenniel, the Rightful Monarch of the Queendoms of Hyphantria and Bythienia, but as Zora Safia Tannous, the illegitimate half-sister of one Isaac Tannous, adoptive father to the little princess. Something is wrong with her power. Every time I visit, I try to nudge her along with what little residue I have left. Until the time comes when she blossoms into the full majesty of the Faeyen, I am trapped here, while Khyth has everything she stole from me. Everything that is rightfully mine.

Except her daughter.

I've made damn sure of that.

And that's Zora! She's a bit . . . narcissistic, I dare say. She does keep diary entries, which I'm planning to include as interludes in the actual story, so we can get a peek into her head as well go along. This one is dated a few years before the start of the novel.

ETA: This bit of the backstory is changing a little (it’s better now), I’ll explain once I’ve got a couple drafts of the WIP under my belt!

00 - Preview || 02 – Becoming || 03 - Choice || 04 - Protagonist || 05 - POV

Tag Crew

@adie-dee

@anilahsarchangel @catharticallysarcastic

#writeblr #am writing #yourocsbackstory #antagonist edition #zora #mild language #afallon #etjwrites

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itsomgitsgreenblogging · 5 years ago

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Re-sublimity: A Critical Role Fanfic

I swear, I was just planning on writing a few small fics for @shadowgast-week. I swear. And then, this happened and I basically shoved all of the prompts into one gigantic fic, which will have to have a second chapter...at least. I do this to myself. So essentially...this is a Jupiter Ascending inspired fic.

...enjoy!

Read on AO3

Preview:

>Journey Log #105

>Entered Intergalactic Standard Time 23:04

>Order: Read Transcript

Dear Traveler,

You should have seen me today! We dealt with what Fjord calls a “clusterfuck” with no problem! It was space pirates, you know, like Avantika except these ones weren’t cultists to a Deep Space Snake thingy. Yasha said we should call them bandits, but I remember you telling me that all crime in space is actually piracy because space counts as international waters. So I’m going to call them space pirates, okay! I was able to channel your energy through my STAFF, and do some serious damage. Caduceus is getting pretty good with his STAFF, you know, he was still using an actual wood staff to channel the Wildmom’s energy when we first met him. The techno-staffs are so much easier to use, and I’m excited about showing him how to update his later just like you showed me.

But the funny thing about these space pirates were that they were kobolds! Caleb said that kobolds originate from a planet called Darastrixhurthi, which was really hard for him to pronounce. I took a guess at how to spell it here, hopefully I did it right. He had never heard of them piloting a spacecraft before, but their ships were these super duper rinky dink ships that Fjord said they most likely stole from the nearby planet and fixed up to be barely space-worthy. I’m sure you’ve seen kobolds before, but they were so cute, even though they were stupid and still tried to shoot us down after we gave them food. Anyways, Nott’s getting really good with her vibro-crossbow, and Beau’s lightning punches really saved the day. And you should have seen Yasha, she just about cleaved a ship in two with her vibro-sword! But I promise, I made sure to give them food and tuck in a statue of you as we scared them off. I’m trying to give something just as you always teach me.

It was too bad about Frumpkin getting punted, but Caleb said he could fix him up again once we get to the nearest planet. Everyone said that because we saw the kobolds and passed by Darastrixhurthi, we’ll be reaching the Xhorhas System within two days, so long as we don’t have any more run-ins with trouble. I really hope we don’t because this has been the longest we’ve journeyed without stopping and I’m getting reaaaaaal bored. It’s so much easier when we have a hyperdrive that actually works to, you know, space travel! But I don’t really want to explode or anything. I’ll find something to do for the two days, besides rewatching my holo-dramas. Maybe I’ll have Caduceus teach me how to use the wand that I picked up on that planet with the fish-people.

As always, I hope I can see you sometime soon when you aren’t too busy. Please look out for Mama, and my friends, and me.

Bye!!!

[Record, included below is an image of kobolds wearing funny hats and flying on ships shaped like dicks]

>Postscript 1, Added by Captain Fjord: Jester, I'm begging you, please stop putting dick drawings in the official journey log. We have to turn these in at port sometimes.

>Postscript 2, Added by First Mate Beauregard: Oh come on, Captain. These are so fucking dry, I’m sure people would find it entertaining.

>Postscript 3, Added by Nott the Brave: I personally think that kobold on the far right needs a bigger hat.

>Postscript 4, Added by Jester Lavorre: >:D

>Postscript 5, Added by Navigator Caleb Widogast: It’s 24:00

>Postscript 6, Added by Nott the Brace: ...your people did this to my people.

>Postscript 7, Added by Caduceus Clay: Imjuhbdwpqidnamap

>Postscript 8, Added by Yasha Nydoorin: I don’t think Caduceus meant to enter that.

>Postscript 9, Added by Captain Fjord: No, he told me he meant to ask Jester to please call the Wildmother by her name if she can...you know the Wildmother. Alright everyone, go to sleep. We’ve got a long day ahead of us tomorrow.

The solar system of Xhorhas was the place where the Kryn Dynasty had been born, a rising power that’s influence was only dampered by the ever expanding reach of the Dwendalian Empire. When the starship SS Balleater docked on the planet of Asarius, two things were made extremely clear. First, based on the look that the officers gave their ship, they were a bit worse for wear. Second, they took bureaucracy to a whole other level here. They had been waiting in a long twisting line at the Customs office for exactly two hours and twenty seven minutes, in darkened rooms only slightly illuminated by low green lights. It had frayed on all of their nerves, to be honest. The Mighty Nein had never done well with long waits, and tended to get into trouble when they weren’t doing something of pressing importance at every moment. The past twenty days of deep space travel without a functioning hyperdrive had made that extremely clear. To make matters worse, Caleb was sore over the loss of Frumpkin, who had been kicked to shit by one of the kobolds who had managed to board the ship. Familiars, or animal companion droids, could be hard to maintain but he would be able to repair him, as long as he could acquire the necessary parts.

Caleb was relieved when their crew reached the front of the line, and came face to face with an overworked and obviously underpaid Kryn officer who looked at them all like she was awaiting her last breath. She was drow, an alien species that was related to the elves that had colonized so many planets during the first space expansion. However, unlike the other species of elves, they were originally an earth-dwelling species. Their coloration was dark and their sensitivity to light kept everything dim in the official buildings like the one they were currently in.

“Welcome to the planet of Assarius, is this your first time entering the Xhorhas system?” the officer asked, her voice dull and bored.

“Yeah, it is,” Beauregard said, not sounding impressed by this officer’s obvious existential crisis.

“Very well, then you will have to undergo the registration process. I will need to prick your finger and gather a blood sample, and ask you a few questions so we can complete the registration questionnaire. Denial of this means you will not have access to the Xhorhas System and we will have to ask you to leave immediately.”

“So...we all have to register our DNA to get anything here?” Beauregard demanded of the Kryn officer behind the glass, who looked like she wanted nothing more than to slide the glass closed on Beauregard’s face. “Isn’t that...like...extortion or something?”

“Clearly you are not from around here,” the Kryn officer said pointing to the sign above the desk...written unhelpfully in the language of their culture. None of them spoke it, and with a quick type into his wristband STAFF he was about to cast Comprehend Languages for a translation when she seemed exasperated by their quietness and did the translating for them. “What you need is a Kryn certified Identification and Navigation Aid, or INAV, which you utilize to transfer credits and license your spacecraft. You only receive an INAV once you have registered with our offices, and to be registered you have your DNA filed with us. Not only is this process used to prove the legitimacy of our monarchs and members of our dens, but also, yes, to prove you are who you say you are when you are paying for goods and services. Unless you want to give blood every time you go to buy food, you get an INAV.”

“How do we know you aren’t using our DNA for shady shit,” Nott asked suspiciously.

“Lady, I just work here,” the Kryn official snapped, motioning to the ever expanding line of annoyed and tired travelers behind them. “Either let me do my damn job here or leave the solar system.”

“Let’s not make her life more difficult than need be,” Fjord said as he held out his hand. She put a device like a heart-rate monitor on his finger and Fjord flinched as it made a small “psst” sound. She clicked the device back into the desk, and typed something into her computer. “My name is Fjord.”

“Last name?”

“Tough,” Nott supplied, and Fjord gave her a long look.

“Tusktooth!” Jester chirped.

“Just Fjord,” Fjord clarified.

“Planet of origin?”

“Nicodranas.”

“Business here in the Kryn Dynasty?”

“Ship repairs, and mercenary work.”

“Take two steps to the left and maintain a neutral expression.”

Fjord did as she said, and a picture was taken. The woman tapped her screen, and a confirmation ding was made. Out popped a drive that was about the size of Caleb’s index finger. She demonstrated how it extended and a tiny holographic image of Fjord’s face and his basic information as well as the genetic marker appeared. It was then handed off.

“Alright, next,” the officer said, voice somehow more clipped than it had been moments before. They went down the line, Caleb taking up the rear as they did. He wasn’t excited for this at all...after all the last thing he needed was more traces of him where the Empire could find him. But sometimes you had to take a risk, after all, it would be far more suspicious to tap out of the process here surrounded by Kryn officers.

Caleb held out his hand and felt the pinch of a needle before it was retracted.

“Name?”

“Caleb Widogast.”

“Planet of origin?”

“Outer territory Rex-33, Settlement BLU-MENTHAL.”

“Business here in the Kryn Dynasty?”

“Mercenary work and droid repair,” he said, showing her the currently out of commission Frumpkin who was in his side-satchel.

“Take two steps to the left and maintain a neutral expression.”

Caleb did so, and heard the sound of the picture being snapped. However after she tapped something into her screen there was a different noise. An obvious alert noise that had him immediately tense up. The officer stared at her screen for a moment, then back at Caleb and then back at her screen...clearly doing a double take. Before anyone could move, she waved at a senior officer behind her. He was a tall bugbear, and made a strangely funny picture as he leaned over the small drow. He frowned.

“I’m sorry, sir. Can you check this? I must have entered something in wrong,” the officer said, her voice confused...but not angry or suspicious as she pointed to something on the screen. The senior officer looked at what she was pointing at and then popped out the INAV and extended it, inspecting the genetic code. He double checked it with the screen, seemed content with whatever he saw, and he exited out from the glass door separating the officers and the lines.

“No, that’s correct. Nothing wrong with the intake,” the senior officer said before addressing Caleb and inspecting him closely. “Sir, have you ever registered DNA with our system before?”

“No, I’ve never been to this system before.”

“And how old are you?”

“I’m 33 according to the Intergalactic Universal Standard Calendar,” Caleb said, frowning.

“Human, right?”

“I would be.”

“Yeah, Minryna, that sample was catalogued approximately 850 years ago. There’s no way it’s been accidentally re-entered. It’s legit,” another senior officer called back to the one inspecting Caleb. Other clerks had stopped what they were doing and had gathered around the screen, and Caleb felt the pinprick of a thousand eyes behind him and a rising tide of whispers.

“Well, Luxon bless me,” whistled the officer before looking at Caleb. “I guess it’s someone’s lucky day isn’t it?”

“Lucky day?” Beauregard asked incredulously.

“Forgive me for the long wait. Congratulations on your Recurrence,” the officer said holding out his hand. Caleb, numbly, took it and let it be shook before the officer opened the INAV and signed the bottom with his finger. It glowed a silver color, as opposed to the blue of the others.

“Recurrence?” Caleb asked, feeling more and more confused by the moment.

“Follow me,” the officer said, and the whispers behind him grew louder. Officers moved out to seperate them from the obviously curious crowd.

“My friends…”

“Of course you may bring them as well. We’ll make sure your ship is taken care of post haste, we’ll probably need to take off from here within an hour..”

“Wait where the hell are we going?” Beau demanded as they all walked.

“Why are you saying congratulations?” Nott asked as they all entered an elevator, and the officer punched the 110th floor. It was traveling up at a dizzying speed, totally glass so you could see the work on each platform as they rose.

“Genetics carry a sacred connotation in our society,” the officer explained. “I’m sure you have heard of our practice of consecution...of the soul being reborn through the power of the Luxon Beacon. However every person is unique. In the vastness of space and time it is of course possible for a genetic code to be reproduced exactly. We consider that to be a true rebirth, a Recurrence.”

“So...my genetic code has occurred once before?” Caleb asked. This was far less incriminating then he had feared, but also that idea was terrifying on so many levels. He could barely handle himself...the idea that there had been another one of him running around at one point was dizzying and horrible. Who knows what he had gotten up to, knowing him.

“Yes,” the officer said simply.

“And Caleb was someone really cool before?” Jester asked, sounding excited. “I read a holonovel sort of like this once! Of course the discovery was wayyy sexier but-!”

“I don’t think this is very sexy,” Yasha said softly.

“It is neat,” Caduceus said, sounding extremely impressed.

“So where are we going right now?” Fjord asked, trying to get them all back on track.

“I am taking you to the upper deck, where they handle Genetic Inquiries. We just get an alert that a Recurrence has occurred and the year of the genetic sample taken of the previous life...in theory that is. We certainly haven’t had any recorded cases of Recurrence within my lifetime. Anyways, they will be able to assist with other questions, including and not limited to who your previous incarnation was, and matters of any titles they may have left you in their will."

“Wills? Like money?” Nott asked, her interest thoroughly peaked.

“It’s common to leave parts of your will for a future recurrence, especially amongst the nobility.”

“This is all strangely morbid,” Caleb said, unable to help the way his mouth quirked.

“That’s very thoughtful,” Caduceus said with a nod. “We should all be considering our futures and how we would like our affairs put into order.”

“Of course you are into that,” Fjord said with an incredulous shake of his head, though the look he shared with Caduceus was fond. Caduceus was from a race of aliens who worshiped a nature deity and were essentially stewards of the dead. His interest didn't surprise Caleb in the least.

They were brought to an empty looking office...well, in comparison to the line they had just been in it was downright barren. A single goblinoid looked at them from behind a desk that was laden with stacks of tablets and papers. Behind her was a seemingly endless sea of files.

"This is the one?" she asked, looking at Caleb and his flashing silver INAV. She held out her hand and he handed it to her. She opened it, inspected the contents and the signature and then signed it herself before turning to her computer. "Very well, let me just type in this and...here we go. C-12B-Jg73_E05_8."

She suddenly pushed with her legs and went skating down the hall with her chair. It was attached to the ground glided along easily and then with a tap of a button she was sent up to a second level. The goblinoid tapped in some code, opened a file, retrieved a holodisk, and then with a lever pull she was returned. She plugged the external drive of the holodisk into the computer checking it and reading it quickly. She then reached to plug the holodesk into the INAV. She pointed at a long document that Caleb skimmed before going to the bottom and signing with his finger.

"Very well, congratulations, my Lord," the goblinoid said. "This highlighted section is the section of the will devoted to you."

Caleb felt the others crowd him as the goblinoid spoke on the com in Undercommon. It didn't truly surprise him to see this script written in Proto-Zemnian. That means the person had been alive Pre-Calamity or at least 800 years ago. It made sense considering talk of 850 years ago. And of course if he did share DNA with someone, it also was somewhat comforting to know it was with another Zemnian. He recognized some of the script, but utilized his techno-magic to translate typing into his STAFF and approving the magical sequence.

"What does it say?" Jester asked excitedly.

"He isn't gonna tell us," Beau bemoaned, now officially caught up in the excitement.

Caleb ignored them and read it out loud.

"And to my future recurrence, if one should ever appear and claim my title, I leave two things. First, my journal of spellcraft. If you are anything like me I am sure you will find it interesting. Second, I leave my second home on the planet of Rosohna to you if it is still standing. Both can be collected from the arbiter of my will...my…" Caleb nearly choked over the next words. "My beloved. If he still lives."

"Oh, he lives alright," the goblinoid said as grim looking guards appeared from the side door. "Best of luck with meeting you husband again!"

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

>Personal Log Entry #365242

>Entered Intergalactic Standard Time 01:11

>Order: Record.

Current success on project RESONANT ECHO has continued, using my STAFF I am capable of pulling a version of myself from a discarded timeline for limited amounts of time. This has been not only thrilling, but also frustrating. They are still limited in what they can accomplish. I may have to go back to traditional spellwork and iron out the details there before attempting again with a STAFF. Sometimes raw mana cannot substitute for good old fashioned components.

On a more personal note, I have decided to bench my idea of pulling a Resonant Echo of another willing creature for now. Firstly, I have no willing creatures to test this idea on. My solitary nature has thwarted me again, unfortunately. And secondly...I am not sure I could bear the idea of success. I do not care much for the moral quandaries of such matters, and that isn’t what stops me. I only worry that it might put me on a path that is ill-advised for my mental health. The only thing more important than progress is being able to enjoy the fruits of my hard work. I am still my own greatest resource at the end of the day.

>Postscript: Add obsidian to shopping list, to be delivered to my personal address. Order for the delivery service to leave the package with TOWER.

>Completed transcription, would you like to save, override, or delete this file?

>Order: Save.

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

Essek Theylss was in the most boring meeting of his whole life. Economics had never been his interest, though of course he understood them. He had been given a thorough education at his Den's hand, and being a long-lived species meant you had time to become knowledgeable in anything you desired. But, as always, he wished to be doing his own research as opposed to attending meetings.

Just as he was making this wish, the meeting was interrupted by Taskhand Adeen.

"My Queen, forgive me for my interruption," the Taskhand said, as always his face was an impossible to crack study of ice. "But an urgent matter has just occurred, I was just informed of it by the guards.

"Then speak," the Bright Queen ordered, now sitting at attention.

"My Queen, it is news of the most importance. Shadowhand," he said suddenly, and Essek was thrown off guard because-him? What had been discovered? What one of his moving parts, his schemes, what-"there has been a Recurrence. Congratulations, your husband returns."

"What?" Essek asked as he stood and floated, the words hitting his skin and freezing over like icy rain. His brain, oddly, felt slow on the uptake. It was a thoroughly disorientating and dizzying experience. The words churning in a strange fog and then a rising panic. "I'm sorry, could you...could you repeat that?"

"There has been a Recurrence of your husband, Shadowhand. He returns now, brought from Asarius. We have genetic confirmation from the Solar System database-"

Essek knew his levitation dropped because suddenly there was a burst of pain in his knees. It was strange...suddenly he had no strength in his limbs...and his sight was swimming. Recurrence? His husband? No, it couldn't be true. His husband was gone, gone forever. Whoever this was...it wasn't him. It couldn't be him...he was just a stranger wearing his husband's face. Another ghost to torture him, to leave him behind-!

"Essek," a gentle, concerned voice said. "By the Luxon give the boy some room!"

"Deep breaths," came another voice, echoing in his skull and rattling in his brainstem. "Deep breaths, Essek. In and out."

"Do we need a medbot? Merciful Light! What were you thinking, just springing that on him in public!" The Bright Queen...he knew it was the Bright Queen who chastised Adeen. He was following instructions, breathing in and out, and it was becoming easier to discern who was around him. The lights ceased their strobing, his heart receded from his throat and made it easier to swallow. The one keeping him from melting into the ground was Quana, the Dusk Captain and wife of the Bright Queen. The one coaching him through the essential process of breathing was the Skysybil. He was in the Bright Queen’s throne room. He wasn’t dying. He was having a panic attack.

"Forgive me for my unsightly display," Essek said breathlessly, trying and failing at pulling himself together, welding the shards of his icy-exterior back where they belonged. This show of weakness...how could he have let himself succumb to that in public regardless of what was happening? There was always time later.

"This is of course emotional for you," Quana said, with a gentle pat on his shoulder. "Your husband returns. Of course the feeling is overwhelming."

"It is a joyous thing, a holy occurrence," the Bright Queen said, crossing the room and looking as radiant as a newly born star. "It is no weakness to be overwhelmed by the Divine. The Luxon has seen it fit to return your husband, and to give us all a sign of His favor. You must go and prepare for him, just as we must begin preparations to welcome him."

The Luxon! As if the Luxon had anything to do with this! It isn't him, Essek wanted to scream. It isn't him! He's gone from my side forever. This stranger...it won't be him. This isn't divine...it's a cruel trick of fate and genetics. It isn't him, it isn't him.

"Prepare, yes, I...I must prepare," Essek said before nearly fleeing the chamber before anyone could stop him. He must have teleported back, though all he felt was a blur of noise and light and suddenly he was there. Everything felt so strange. Nothing was right anymore. His usual sanctuary had been breached by the abnormal, and all he wanted was to make it stop.

The hum of his levitation seemed to be the only noise that echoed from the halls of his home as he arrived. He sent the droids that acted as servants away, and slammed the door to the study close and locked it with a wave. For a moment he paused before continuing on in spite of his racing heart. The ocean between him and the desk seemed immense as he crossed it. Opening the locked compartment he removed his husband's will from inside gingerly.

It has been at least a hundred years since he had looked at it. It was written on parchment...because of course it was, his husband had always been old-fashioned...even back then. He had kept it in a temperature and moisture controlled capsule to prevent decay ever since it had been written. He had memorized every line a long time ago, he was sure, and yet now looking at the last section he paused. The spell book and the summer home and that was it. On paper it was nothing. Hardly a blip on the radar of the vast wealth that Essek commanded at his fingertips. But he would have to give it up...more remnants of his husband that he clung to would disappear from his grasp forever.

It wasn't fair, Essek thought, breathless with grief as he pulled his husband's spellbook from the same controlled compartment. He held back his tears stubbornly. Essek was unwilling to stain the cover of the well-loved book as he cradled it to his chest. Inside was his husband’s soul, the work that Essek had founded his magic on. This interloper would take from Essek what little he had left that he held sacred.

"Sir, your heart rate is elevated as is the saturation of stress hormones in your blood," TOWER, the AI that ran the home systems reported. The screen of his INAV lighting up the alert for Essek to see. "Are you in need of assistance?"

"TOWER, what is the rate of Recurrence in the general population?" Essek asked, refusing to answer that question. There was no good answer, after all. Why waste his time?

"The rate of Recurrence in the general population is one in ten trillion."

"One in ten trillion…" Essek murmured, truly grappling with that statistic for the first time in his life. He had heard that number before of course. Back when he was in school, in his courses meant to educate and indoctrinate him into the faith of the Luxon. But now it seemed so vast, so unlikely. Bards sang songs about this, subscribed entertainment was based on this. And yet somehow it was really happening to him. "And do these Recurrences...when they happen, is it reported that the person is...similar, to their previous incarnation?"

"Physically identical, however the rate of Recurrence is so low there has not been the opportunity for true scientific studies on the phenomenon, sir. Only anecdotal accounts."

"Give a general summary of the anecdotal accounts, TOWER,” Essek said with little patience.

"It is theorized that though the core of a person may be written in genetics, environmental factors such as planet born, levels of sustenance during formative years, chemical and radiation exposure, family structure, socio-economic standing, and other psychological factors and epigenetics will have an effect on the individual. As such, the Recurrence may not be the exact same individual as the previous incarnation."

"Good," Essek said as he finally drew in a breath. "Good...then this will just be an unpleasant meeting. But who knows? He may not be interested in the book and I'll be able to keep it."

"Are you unhappy, sir? By my database's reading this is supposed to be a happy event."

"Of course I am unhappy!" Essek snapped at the AI. "Some...some ghost wearing his face is coming here. A ghost who by sheer dumb luck is given a title to land and my husband's spellbook...and...well...my hand in marriage."

"Would you consider it better or worse if he was the same as your husband, sir?"

"Oh by the Nine Hells if I know!" Essek groaned. But he was lying to himself. Of course it would be worse if he was the same. If he was the same...if this ghost truly was his husband...Essek would fall apart at the seams. After all, there wasn't a worse fate than being happy, for all happiness turned to ash and ruin. He had a husband for only ninety years. In the lifespan of his people that was hardly a season, nothing worth fretting over. And yet, he was still so cold at night without him...he still woke some nights, expecting his husband to be beside him.

Essek wouldn't go through it again. Not again, not ever. He wouldn’t allow it.

"Contact the Theylss arbiter and have them prepare documentation for an annulment," Essek ordered TOWER as he stood. He looked towards the wide windows, the violet-blue interstellar clouds that shimmered with the radiance of distant stars. His garden called to him, his sanctuary pulled him to it like the indelible force of gravity. He was one with it...drifting quietly as always. "I would like this to be over and done with quickly."

Essek was about to say something else when the sound of a call going through interrupted him. He knew who it was without even looking, which is why he didn’t bother to say hello as the voice came through.

"Essek," his Denmother said, her voice cold and commanding as her image appeared on the screen. "Congratulations. We have much to speak about."

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

“What do you think your husband is like?” Jester asked curiously, bouncing in her seat in the flight deck.

They were currently being escorted to Rosohna by the Echo-Knights, who’s speedy Moorbounder ships kept in tight formation around them. They had had their ship’s general needs repaired in record time, their ship restocked with supplies, and had been told that when they reached Rosohna their ship’s hyperdrive would also be taken care of free of charge. They had actually been offered a completely brand new ship that was so beautiful it had almost made Fjord cry. They had refused it, because as Beauregard pointed out if something was fucked with on their own ship, they would be able to tell easily. For now, considering the results of Nott and Caduceus’ quick investigation, it seemed like everything was fine and in working order. All of this somehow and for a reason that Caleb was still grappling with was due to the fact that Caleb was apparently married.

“He’s not my husband,” Caleb murmured, arguing for the sake of arguing the point, though his protests sounded weak to his own ears the more he read about Recurrence and the significance it held to Xhorhassian society.

“According to the laws of this Solar System, yeah, he is,” Beauregard said as she slid the holodisk at him and rotated the image so Caleb could read it. “Right there. Xhorhas General Law, Part 2, Title 3, Chapter 507, Section 258 on the validity of marriage. The clerk shall require written notice of intention of marriage, on forms furnished by the state registrar of vital records and statistics, containing such information as is required by law and also a statement of absence of any legal impediment to the marriage, to be given before such Xhorhassian accredited clerk under oath by both of the parties to the intended marriage. After a marriage is solemnized by an approved Dynasty religion or other official method, the marriage is considered binding until a time when an annulment is performed, see sections 280-320 for specifics. And then I looked down and here, in Section 283 it says, if one party to the marriage dies, the marriage vow is considered null and void and the living party shall receive the benefits given within the will, can apply for a remarriage, and shall be able to file for government aid if needed. However, if a Recurrence is found of the deceased the previous marriage shall be automatically renewed in the system and upheld until the time that both parties file for an annulment.”

“Congratulations?” Fjord offered weakly.

“Caleb isn’t married!” Nott half screamed.

“It sounds like Caleb is married,” Yasha noted.

“We don’t even know if this guy deserves Caleb!” Nott argued, nearly frothing at the mouth.

“We are technically married until we file a divorce then,” Caleb clarified, feeling like his stomach was twisting in his belly. He wished desperately he had Frumpkin to hold, but the guards of Assarius hadn’t been able to supply the specialty parts he had needed. He had been told that they would be provided easily by his “husband’s” family.

His mind came back to the concept at hand. Marriage. Caleb wasn’t against the idea of marriage as a social construct. He had once even dreamed of marrying. He had wanted to marry the girl he loved more than anything else in this universe. He had planned to marry her, and die beside her in the name of his King and Empire in the great battles against the evil that threatened the security of that Empire. Of course, things didn’t turn out the way one planned… and apparently he had been married all along.

“You are going to divorce him?” Jester asked, sounding heartbroken and drawing Caleb from his strange thoughts. “But what if he’s wonderful? What if you love him?”

“I can’t love someone I’ve never met before,” Caleb said, apologetically.

“In a past life you did though,” Jester said, her pout deadly in its force. “That’s what Recurrence basically is, right? Being reborn.”

“We would refer to it as reincarnation,” Caduceus added as he appeared with a teapot. He poured a cup for Caleb and gave his shoulder a gentle pat. Caleb accepted it, if only to have something to do with his hands.

“It is a genetic anomaly,” Caleb argued, motioning at the page he was reading. “I understand that genetics and rebirth are an important aspect of the Dynasty’s religion but it’s just that. It’s just a religious belief. I don’t know this person that shared my DNA, but you wouldn’t assume that if I married someone that person would also be married to my identical twin, right?”

“You have a twin?” Jester asked, her tail swishing excitedly.

“I don’t have a twin,” Caleb sighed.

“Twins don’t count as a Recurrence,” Beau mentioned. “Chapter 436, Section 23.”

“I don’t...it was just an example. Besides, I’m sure it’s...I’m sure that person’s husband wouldn’t want to be married to me. I am not the person they loved.”

“It must be painful for them,” Yasha said softly, eyes drawn dark with grief. “But I’m sure they might be grateful too. There isn’t much…”

Yasha trailed off, but Caleb didn’t need to hear the rest. After all, Caleb was also well versed in the language of grief. Yasha was right, there wasn’t much he wouldn’t do for the chance to at least glimpse at the faces of the people he had loved the most again.

"Den Theylss though, I've heard they are a huge deal in these parts," Fjord said quietly, tapping the steering thoughtfully. "They are one of the three most powerful families in the Kryn Dynasty, second only to the Bright Queen's den. When I was running the merchant routes back in the day, the merchant ships that came out here always said that the three dens own thirds of the Dynasty."

"Maybe you ought to stay married to this dude," Beauregard said seriously. "He's rich. Their family did just totally mostly fix our ship in a day."

"I want to be kind to him," Caleb said, and left it at that.

They arrived shortly after. Rosohna was a distant planet, it’s orbit kept it approximately seven years out of the light of the sun and gave it one year with seasons. In space, it showed like a glittering jewel. It was the founding planet of the Kryn Dynasty, where the Bright Queen raised her people from the shadows underground and led them to the space age. As they entered the hemisphere Caleb immediately noticed the brightness of the city that built itself silver into the dark exterior as they landed on the loading dock.

“Alright folks, gear up, let’s rock and roll,” Fjord said standing up.

“Aye, aye Captain Tusktooth!” the rest of the crew shouted back, before grabbing the necessities and disembarking off the Balleater.

They were met immediately by a group of Drow, one of the natural inhabitants of Rosohna. There were all dressed in robes, shaded darkly but with touches of glitter and shimmer, enough to catch the low light. That separated them from the woman who walked before the rest of the group. She was dressed the most exquisitely, in a dress made like it was gathered from violet clouds that moved and shimmered with an almost iridescent quality. Her silver hair was pulled back high on her head, and her ears were decorated with what had to be thousands of credits worth of jewels.

“You stand before Deirta Theylss, Umavi of Den Theylss,” one of the group said. Fjord immediately bowed, and everyone else followed suit. When Caleb rose from his bow, he saw Deirta’s eyes raking over his face intensely. She was an attractive woman, older in the almost imperceptible way elves aged, but cold and austere. Something about her gaze set him on edge immediately.

“How fascinating,” she said, reaching out to take Caleb’s chin. She turned him this way and that, and Caleb resisted every instinct in his body that screamed at him to shy away from this woman. He didn’t like looking people in the eye normally. This forced contact made his skin crawl. “It is truly, utterly breathtaking...how much like him you look. An absolutely perfect match if my memory serves. There is no doubt, we have been blessed by a true Recurrence. The Luxon truly shines it’s Light upon us and our den on this day.”

She released him and folded her hands in her sleeves. Caleb could feel the rest of the Mighty Nein draw close to him, a semi-circle of protection that grounded him the present and kept him from scratching the skin off his arms.

“It has been...a lot for a day and a half,” Caleb admitted, swallowing nervously. He understood the wariness of the others now. There were eyes on them everywhere, almost all of the movement in the hanger had ceased.

“I am just happy to welcome my son in law home,” Deirta said with a smile that did not reach her eyes. “There is much we must discuss, of course. But the first order of business is the Reintroduction, the second is the will.”

“Reintroduction?” Jester asked.

“Between him and Essek, my son,” Deirta said. Essek. No one had yet said his name to Caleb. Essek Theylss was his husband by law in the Kryn Dynasty, a man that Caleb had never met before. He had the insane urge to speak it out loud, to run the name over his lips, as if that might spark something in him other than crippling anxiety. “This will be followed by the meeting with the Bright Queen tomorrow.”

“The Bright Queen?” Nott and Jester and Fjord and Beau all demanded at once, one with suspicion, one with excitement, and the other two with abject disbelief.

“You all clearly do not appreciate the cultural significance of Recurrence,” Deirta said lightly as they all walked to the transport ship. They were seated in a flying craft, with a large see-through lid that was sent up through a channel and then ported them out to the city itself. For a moment Caleb was too dazzled by the silver city itself, and almost didn’t hear Deirta’s command. “Smile for the cameras.”

“Cameras?” Caleb asked before nearly yanking his own head back at the sight of the huge holo-screens lining the streets that lit up with their image. There was the sound of cheering audible from even up there. Jester waved manically, as well as Cad and Yasha...a bit more shyly.

“You, child, are a phenomenon that occurs 1 out of 10 trillion,” Deirta said cooly, though she smiled sweetly for the camera that tracked her wave and the movement of the craft. “And even less likely to be discovered. You demonstrate the most sacred law of our deity, the chance for true rebirth. In such times as these, you are proof of the divine nature of our lives. And as if that were not enough, you are husband to a Theylss. Not just any Theylss either, son of the Umavi, Shadowhand to the Bright Queen, and considered to be one of the great beauties of our people. Any one of them would kill to be in your position."

“You’re wrong,” Caleb argued as they passed the holo-screens and continued on, towards a castle of silvered metal towering from the ground. “I’m just...I’m just Caleb.”

A murderer, a fugitive, a crazed lunatic, a self-made orphan, perhaps. But proof of the divine? Only if the divine was looking for a cosmic joke.

“Perhaps before today,” Deirta said as she looked towards the castle. “Not anymore."

Soon enough they were out of the city proper and into the Firmaments District, as the captain of the ship informed them. The Bright Queen’s Cathedral was a massive castle-ship, currently docked in place and surrounded by the high pearly white walls that separated her and her court from the people of Rosohna. In the district behind were the houses of the other most prominent dens, laid out amongst the maze-like streets like small treasure chests.

“Your friends shall stay with me in my household as honored guests,” Deirta Theylss ordered as they moved down to street level and moved through the city streets. She turned her seat to face them. “We shall go to your home to meet with your husband.”

“No! Caleb doesn’t go alone!” Nott argued fiercely, planting herself firmly in front of Deirta as if she were three feet taller. “Either I go with Caleb, or he doesn’t go anywhere.”

"The same goes for me," Beauregard said, crossing her arms in front of her chest, flexing the muscles there. She made a much more terrifying picture as Yasha sidled up beside her and echoed the same motion. Jester joined with Nott.

"The Might Nein stays together," Fjord said, placing a hand on Caleb's shoulder, as did Caduceus.

"Very well, I'm sure Essek will make the appropriate arrangements," Deirta said before turning to the officer who was piloting the transport craft. "Fine, go to Essek's residence."

"Yes, my lady. Sit down, we'll arrive within a few moments,” the pilot of the transport ship said before closing the hatch and separating Deirta in the Captain's quarters from the Mighty Nein.

"I don't think I like her," Jester hissed as she plopped down in her seat again and crossed her arms over her chest. "Your mother-in-law is mean."

"She doesn’t have to be kind, she is an Umavi," Beau grumbled. "That’s like super nobility, but besides that she's a politician first, did you see the way she set us up?"

Besides just the political boost, there was a more obvious reason now that he thought about it. Of course she wanted his face plastered on every holo-screen in the Dynasty. Now everyone would know his face, Caleb realized. She was far more shrewd then Caleb had given her credit for. If he tried to do something stupid, like escape without a functional hyperdrive in his ship, everyone on this side of the universe would know who he was. Tightening the noose, Caleb thought, his breathing suddenly funny in his throat.

"This is all very complicated now," Caduceus said worriedly before stopping. "Are you alright, Caleb?"

"I feel like I'm going to be sick," Caleb admitted, gripping his hands hard to keep them from shaking.

"Oh no, Caleb," Jester said, immediately taking residence at his side.

“It’ll be alright,” Nott worried his shirt quietly before gathering his hands in hers. “It’ll be alright. I promise. We’ll find a way to get out of this, I promise.”

“Thank you, my little friend,” Caleb said weakly, letting Nott press a kiss to his forehead.

“Let’s be prepared, who knows what could happen,” Fjord said, looking seriously out at the street.

They arrived at a residence that was really three towers connected by walkways on the ground and above. The towers themselves had a uniquely antique feel in the city so smooth and chrome, built to resemble stone. However in the flickering low lights they revealed a glittering effect. On the top of the tower spun some sort of mechanism that shifted like gears and seemed to be measuring something. Caleb’s curiosity was thoroughly peaked, though, he wasn’t sure that this was the appropriate time to sate his curiosity.

A servant-droid greeted them at the door to the front tower, bowing before Lady Theylss. She didn’t give the droid a single glance.

"Where is my son?" Deirta asked shortly, brushing out her skirts though there were no folds or wrinkles to be seen.

"In the gardens, my Lady," the droid stated.

"Of course," she sighed tiredly. “Lead us there.”

They walked through the tower to the walkway between the towers. There was a garden, filled with Glowing Nightblooms, a flower that when blooming cast soft blues and violets and whites into darkness. He had read about them before. They were a staple in the cheap credit a dozen novels he brought from outposts or second hand merchants, but seeing them in person was another. The path led them past crystal statues of geometric shapes that made light fracture into rainbows and painted the air vibrantly. The garden circled a pond, a dark tranquil pool that was so still that it was almost a perfect mirror with the star-filled sky. A single small shrine stood in the middle of it. And there in the center a person standing before the shrine...almost appearing like a ghost as silver incense smoke curled in the air.

"My son, come and greet your husband," Deirta said. The figure turned from the shrine, he crossed the lake. Caleb had been to the edge of the galaxy itself, and yet he didn’t think he had ever seen a more handsome man before. He was composed of sharp edges and elegant lines, his skin a smooth and peerless dark plum, and his hair perfectly tamed and coiffed. There were no ripples as he moved-no-skimmed across the water’s edge as weightless as fog. He arrived on the stone path, and immediately knelt, expensive dark robes shifting as he did.

"Welcome home, my beloved," Essek said, bowing deeply enough to press his forehead to his fingers. Geometrical earrings caught the light, as did an impressive, elaborate mantle that was settled upon his neck."I have been awaiting your arrival.”

“Please, lift your head,” Caleb half-begged, feeling flushed and oddly ashamed. He hadn’t done anything to deserve this act of devotion from this complete stranger.

“I hope you have found everything suitable," Essek said as he continued to bow, pointedly ignoring his request. Caleb could almost sense Deirta gloating from where she stood a few feet behind him.

"Your home is...it's beautiful," Caleb said, not sure if the words even came out past his panicked choking.

"It is your home as it is mine, I am happy it pleases you," Essek said as he stood effortlessly, robes swaying as he did so. The silver of his eyes illuminated his face, flecked with pale blue and violet in the shifting light of the pond and flowers. His expression was hard to read, though his mouth curled up in a soft almost-smile. "I am Essek Theylss, son of Deirta Theylss, Shadowhand of the Bright Queen."

"Caleb. Caleb Widogast," Caleb said softly.

"Caleb," Essek said, something flickering upon the surface and dissipating just as quickly. "And your guests?"

"My friends. The Mighty Nein."

"TOWER," Essek called, and a screen lit up along the wall. "Make sure the service droids prepare rooms for my husband's friends."

"Your will shall be done, sir," the AI stated.

"In your room you shall find both the spellbook and the deed to the home as stated in the will," Essek said, tone businesslike...formal. Caleb wasn’t sure what he had been expecting. Perhaps crying? Screaming? Anger or sadness or grief? And yet Caleb saw none of that as he looked at this stranger. There was only politeness...a cool sort of acceptance. "Both already confirmed by the arbiter and myself. Are you capable of translation or will you need assistance?"

"Ja, I can," Caleb said lifting his wrist to show his staff. Essek reached out his hand and offered it expectantly...and Caleb did the only thing he could think of and laid his wrist in Essek’s grasp. His touch was cold and fingers soft, and just that was enough to raise goosebumps along his skin.

“I have never seen this model of a STAFF,” Essek said, inspecting the device, interest sparking in his gaze. It was the first truly genuine thing he had seen from this man who was meant to be his husband, and it soothed something in his heart. Caleb caught a glint of a STAFF upon Essek’s own wrist as well.

“I...ah...I built it myself,” Caleb admitted. “I could not afford one with the specs I desired, so one has to do what they must.”

"Then we have that in common, I also built my own staff. You are a techno-mage, I see," Essek said, sounding unsurprised. "Wizard speciality I assume?"

"I...yes, how did you…?"

"He was the same," Essek said quietly, releasing Caleb’s wrist. Essek didn’t need to say who “he” was, they both knew. Caleb drew it back, and resisted the urge to stroke the place where Essek had touched. His skin still tingled from the touch. “Is there anything else you all required?”

“Ah...my familiar,” Caleb said, opening his satchel to show the limp body of the companion-droid. “I would like to fix him, do you know where I can get the materials?”

“As you may have noticed, I employ droids heavily. I have droid-repairing materials here, TOWER shall acquire for you whatever you need,” Essek promised. He paused before looking to Deirta. "I am sure you have more you wish to discuss with me, Umavi."

"Yes," she said, without a scrape of anything resembling maternal love or affection. Instead there was only business.

"Very well, we will speak in my office. I shall take my leave now," Essek said, turning to address them all. "If there is anything you require, you may call for the home AI, TOWER."

And with that, he drifted past them with the Umavi, leaving them all alone. Caleb felt that he could finally breathe as soon as he was gone.

“Wow...this is just like that scene in Tusk Love,” Jester said, steepling her fingers and looking starstruck.

“What part of Tusk Love?” Nott asked curiously.

“The scene where Genieveve meets her fiance, you know, the one her dad wants her to marry instead of Oskar?” Jester asked. “And the fiance totally tries to seduce her over dinner by giving her that beautiful red dress and the necklace made of lumincrystal?”

“Oh! I love that part, especially when the fiance put his hand-” Nott started.

“I don’t think this is like that,” Fjord said, interrupting warily.

“If anything I don’t think it was horny enough,” Beau complained. “Like...did this guy even like his husband? He sure as fuck didn’t act like it. Like, if I spent two weeks away from the person I loved the most I would be shoving them into the nearest supply closet with me. Imagine hundreds and hundreds of years!”

“Would you?” Fjord asked incredulously, and Beau elbowed him hard.

“We all deal with loss in our own ways,” Caduceus said as he looked on at the shrine still settled in the pond like a cloud in the sky. “But he loved his husband...that’s for sure.”

“What makes you say that?” Caleb asked, swallowing in an attempt to wet his tongue.

“Such a fine grave could only be upkept with devotion,” Caduceus said, motioning to the small shrine. And as Caleb watched the single curl of white smoke still rising from the incense, carved words upon marble meticulously polished he realized that Caduceus was right. This wasn’t a shrine...it was a grave. “It’s beautiful.”

Caleb looked away, unable to quell the ache in his chest.

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

He spent a good portion of the evening tinkering and repairing Frumpkin with the materials provided. He was unable to explain his relief when the usual start-up menu appeared in their shared link. The feline-droid meowed happily at being reawoken, and spent a long time cuddling up with Caleb and performing his usual therapeutic routines, before settling to be charged. After that he worked on reading over the spellbook that had been given to him, marveling at the notes (trying not to think about the handwriting that was his own from the way he crossed his z’s to the dashes he used for his i’s). The Mighty Nein ate dinner together, with Essek noticeably absent from the halls and rooms. They were given a spread of traditional Xhorhassian cuisine prepared by the servant droids, and Caleb came to the realization that there was not a single living servant in the home. They were all given their own rooms, and set to retire in them. It was decided to play nice...to make the show of gratitude. If there was one constant in almost every culture across the universe, it was to know better than to trample on hospitality given.

“What do you want to do?” Nott asked him nervously before they separated for bed.

“I don’t know…” Caleb admitted, scrubbing at his face with his hands as he watched Frumpkin charge. “I get the feeling they aren’t going to let me leave so easily.”

“They said the hyperdrive would be fixed in seven days. That’s the soonest we’ll be able to escape,” Nott said softly, close enough that any bugs that may have planted in the room wouldn’t have caught it. “Think about it, but don’t worry, you're stuck with me regardless of what you want to do, alright?”

“Alright,” Caleb said, catching Nott’s eyes and smiling. And he tried to sleep...he did. But his mind was racing, and finally he could do nothing but leave the room. He figured a quick walk around would settle him, and did his best to memorize the corridors and stairs and rooms he could enter. All information at this point was power, things he could use to get the upper hand in a game that he felt completely outclassed by.

Eventually though...he found himself back in the cloisters...the high arches and beautifully carved pathway to the garden. And he wasn’t alone, as he soon discovered. Essek stood solitary, next to a pillar looking out onto the pond and the grave. The flowers themselves were pale as a moon, glowing with a soft ethereal iridescence that almost seemed to float up to the clouds of violet and amber dust.

Caleb drew in a breath, and Essek stiffened. A slender dark hand curled against the pillar, but he didn’t move.

"I'm sorry," came the voice from the figure. The accent was smooth, voice soft and thoughtful. He did not turn, and somehow just that felt more genuine then any words they had exchanged thus far. He sounded exhausted, and so very apologetic...as trapped and frustrated as Caleb did. "I'm sure this all must be very difficult...I know this has been the strangest two days of my life."

"Ja, I would say so," Caleb said, and watched as the figure cringed. Oh...his voice. It must be the same or at least similar to...to his real husband. "I am the one who should be apologizing...I'm sure this has been harder for you in more ways than I could ever comprehend."

“If you are as alike as I fear, I would say that isn’t true,” Essek said, the tired tones of his voice biting into Caleb’s skin. “My husband was always an intelligent man...and always managed to surprise me with his inopportune insights. If you are like him...then there is little hope that you wouldn’t understand me...and I’m afraid that’s far more terrifying than the alternative.”

“All I can do is apologize it seems,” Caleb murmured. “Apologize and hope that you accept that as my truth.”

For a long moment Essek didn’t respond, and he wondered if this was Essek’s way of asking him to leave. Caleb was about to...to say something when Essek shifted instead.

"My husband…" Essek started, faltered and then straightened his shoulders, still refusing to look his way. "I can’t explain it, no matter how much I desire to. His love sustained me through so much. He was one of the first humans to voyage to the stars and come to this distant shore. He was brilliant and kind and so much better than me in almost every way. I love him...even so many years after his death...he has been the only one I have ever loved."

"I do not...I wouldn't ever presume…" Caleb started...but faltered. What could he say to make this better? There were no words he could summon in this language or his mother tongue to even scratch the surface of this situation. Instead his voice petered out, running out of gas.

“There will be many things asked of you soon,” Essek said, retracting his hand from the pillar and slipping it into his sleeve. “I am just sorry I will not be able to spare you from it...from all of it.”

“What do you mean?”

He turned around, and Caleb’s breath left his lungs. He was as beautiful as the heavens unfurling in the hours of twilight, a single solitary figure against the quiet light. Instead of drawing near, he seemed to recede further into the shadow cast by the pillars. His expression was empty...there was nothing there, simply a reflection.

“I have been informed there will be no annulment,” he said cooly, as if he were talking about the weather. “We shall have a Vow Exchange and Marriage Ceremony in seven rotation’s time.”

“They would have us married?” Caleb asked in shock.

“Remarried technically, as by law you are my husband.”

“Do they have no concerns for your feelings?” Caleb asked, suddenly infuriated for Essek’s sake.

“I have none to be concerned about...not anymore,” Essek said softly as he drifted forward. He didn’t walk, that was certain. Instead he moved as if buoyed in his own gravitational field. “I am a loyal subject to my Queen first, a child of my mother’s den second, a citizen of the Dynasty third, and a person last. I have a duty I must fulfill...and by marrying you, I shall be furthering the aims of my government through the greatest single act of propaganda we have seen since our Queen’s famous speech at the Breach. Though I have nothing to do with that, after all, I have been told that I am living the romance of the millenium. I should be very grateful.”

“Seven rotations?” Caleb echoed. A week, a single week. That was how long it would take for the hyperdrive to be fixed. The same day...of course it had to be the day that he was sure the entire solar system of Xhorhas would be watching him. Nothing could ever be easy...he didn’t deserve that much.

“If you are planning on escaping...well...I wish you the best of luck,” Essek said with a wry smile, a glint of fang twisting up Caleb’s heart. “I doubt you will get far. My mother has told me that this shall be the single most lavish affair our people have seen since the last marriage between the Bright Queen and the Dusk Captain, and no expense will be spared for things like security.”

“It isn’t right,” Caleb argued, blood pulsing hot and rapid in his veins. The injustice of it wrenched at his insides. “It isn’t fair, that they should treat you like some...some tool! I-”

Suddenly, Essek crashed right into Caleb’s chest. Hands balled into Caleb’s shirt with bruising force, and he stood there dumbly as Essek pressed his face more firmly to his shoulder and shuddered as if he carried the weight of the whole planet upon his shoulders.

“It’s not fair,” Essek gasped, voice fracturing into a million pieces. Bitter and desperate and hopeless and overwhelming. “Why does it have to be this way? You even feel like him...smell like him! Please...please stop being kind to me. Push me away...run from me, hurt me. Stop sounding like him! Stop...stop talking like him. I beg of you...I beg of you. If you stay...I won’t be able to let you go again. I’ll do anything I can to stop you. I’ll be cruel, and vicious, and I’ll hurt everyone and anything that gets in my way. That’s the way I am. I am the most selfish creature that ever crawled upon the surface of any planet. So please...abandon me.”

“You are a victim too,” Caleb said, instinctively wrapping his arms around Essek’s waist. He felt so slender in his arms...so delicate, like he was a shard of the universe...like he would disappear if he held him too long. And despite everything...it felt so right. It was just an illusion, brought on by the stress. He had never held Essek before...but he could almost imagine it with how wonderful it was. “Will you forgive me...for trying to find a way to save us both?”

“Never,” Essek said, looking up at him. His eyes were silver like the moon-dust freckles that shimmered upon his skin, glittering with tears. “I’ll never forgive you. Just gazing upon you gives me a glimpse of that which I most desire, and even if you are just a shade if you stay I will pursue you. Don’t you understand? I am your greatest enemy. So you must go...you must escape without ever looking back at me.”

“Won’t they hurt you? How could I just leave you?” Caleb demanded. “You are innocent. I won’t damn an innocent again for my sins...never.”

“Innocent? Ha! Abandon that pride of yours, Light damn it! Why don't you understand? The only thing I can do is protect you from me!"

"I won't. If I leave you here...like this, what will happen to you?"

"Nothing I don't deserve after everything I've wrought," he said bitterly, pulling away and leaving his arms so empty and bereft of purpose. "Caleb...I have done everything to deserve this fate, I see that now. This is my punishment, but it is not yours. Escape, Caleb. Escape the Kryn Dynasty. Escape my fate. Escape me. That alone...it will be enough for me for the rest of eternity."

Essek disappeared into the shadows, leaving Caleb behind.

#critical role fanfic #shadowgast week #shadowgast #essek theylss #caleb widogast #sci-fi AU

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betweenlands · 5 years ago

Text

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[ a fic written for @mine-sara-sp‘s shadow people au, specifically the “season 7 shadows” au-of-an-au. fun fact, simplysarc did a series with zedaph once. ]

content warnings: possession.

ZEDAPH - S7 - 00

Okay, so they’re still working out all the issues with the shadow mob - apparently it wasn’t supposed to become a new form of artificial intelligence, who’d have thunk it? X managed to do some admin stuff and port the old shadows over, though, so I’ve still got Merino.

A lot of the new shadows have turned out, uh, concerning though? Bdubs got a plant monster even though the whole nHo plotline was two entire seasons ago, Grian’s is - well I don’t know what Grian’s is, but it’s got wings and eyes on it. Honestly, even Joe’s new one seems sort of off-putting for some reason. Keeps staring at me.

Or maybe there was just something on my face that day and he was too polite to point it out?

Whatever the case, I kind of want to get my hands on some shadow equipment as soon as possible, mostly so I can fend off Grian’s double-trouble shadows. Which means I’ve gotta head into the shadowlands as soon as possible, and I figure I’m gonna do it right now before my new shadow ends up sentient and has back pain from me trying to get a full armor set.

Also, I’m taking notes, because that’s the difference between science and screwing around.

ZEDAPH - S7 - 01

I have to admit, I was really worried about going into the shadow temple and doing the whole summoning thing considering that so many people have gotten big spooky monsters as their shadows. I guess the devs wanted to buff them because some of the stuff that happened with people’s shadows, like Shadoc and Murmur?

But, you know what? Everything went great! Sort of. Okay, so I didn’t actually see my shadow because I double-summoned it as quickly as possible and then leapt right on into the shadowlands. I’m sure it’ll be fine - it seems like you can hit any yellow-colored shadow with the scythe to get out, and guess what I got on my first run of the shadow boss! And… the second one. And the third one.

I think it’s probably a guaranteed drop.

I had to leave after three fights, though, because it turns out they definitely nerfed the livability of this dimension when they updated the Nether to be more homey. If you stick around for too long, you start getting slowness; stick around even longer, you get a really slow version of wither. Supposedly there’s a third drawback, something about the bottom of the shadowlands. I didn’t read the update notes too closely.

Anyway, I’ll have to go back soon, I want a full armor set and I only managed to get the chestplate - you know, the piece of armor I probably won’t use most of the time. Oh well, having spare scythes isn’t that bad.

ZEDAPH - S7 - 03

Full armor set obtained. Also, I think the third consequence for staying in the shadowlands too long is bugged. I got the slowness and wither effects in the middle of finishing off the last boss, and when I headed back to leave, it looked like something was rising from the bottom of the abyss?

But the animation sort of… looped, glitchily, like the amorphous blob of shadow was only consuming the bottom layers of the shadowlands repeatedly and not actually advancing upwards. So, yeah, it might be bugged.

I did get hit with a killer headache when I left the shadowlands this time, though. But hey, I don’t actually have to go back there for a good amount of time when I have the full set of gear, so I don’t have to worry about getting a post-shadowlands-exploration headache for a little while.

Merino’s been staring at me like there’s something wrong, recently, I’m not sure what’s going on. I tried to ask them and they just said it was nothing.

I guess it’s nothing to worry about, then. Maybe they just want me to get back to herding sheep so they can kill them again, like old times. I’ll do that.

ZEDAPH - S7 - 04

Okay, maybe there’s something to worry about. Thing is, Merino’s not the only shadow that’s been staring at me. Now it’s Joe’s new shadow - Joyful - tailing me, and Puzzler - Grian’s brand-new bastard - is always watching me specifically when it’s not being creepy at Grian.

I’d assume they’re jealous of my really cool clothing, but the shadowvex are normally all over that kind of thing and both the old and new ones are… I think they might be avoiding me? Which would be super convenient if not for the fact that it’s very out-of-character for them to outright avoid people.

The other thing is that… I still have that headache from exiting the shadowlands. Maybe that’s the third consequence, is a really long-lasting headache that can’t be cancelled out by milk? Either way… ugh. Just, ugh, I’ll start seeing what might cure it.

ZEDAPH - S7 - 05

I’m going to talk about the not-interesting part of today first, because I know someone’s reading these notes and I think it’s more fun if I add narrative spice to their poking and prodding.

Yeah, that’s right, buddy, I’m talking about you. I don’t know who you are but I know you’re reading this. (Are you Joyful? I think you’re probably Joyful.)

Anyway, boring parts first! I went into the shadowlands again to test something - turns out, the headache debuff might be a thing that happens when I’m not in that dimension, because the moment I teleported there, it went away. That was a real relief, honestly, because I’d had a rough morning. The glitchy stuff at the bottom of the abyss was still glitching, everything seemed as normal as a weird dark hellscape could be.

So, about the rough morning…

I was heading out to the shadow temple to do more shadowlands testing when someone grabbed me by the back of the collar. Biffa’s old shadow, Apex - I could tell it was him and not the nearly identical new one, on account of his visor being up and his eyes being blue. And, y’know, him lifting me up by the collar.

Basically, we had a talk - apparently, according to him, there’s something very bad in the bottom of the shadowlands. He called it the “old shadows” and told me that since I was there so often, I should be extremely careful.

He said even the Vex were scared of it. I told him that the old shadows seemed to be glitched, because last time I saw them they were only rising up to a certain point (and my trip inside later proved it). Apex just dropped me, and shook his head, told me to be careful again.

So yeah, Joyful, there’s your juicy tidbits for the day. While you’re reading these, d’you mind helping me clean my desk? It’s the least you could do in exchange for me letting you snoop around my stuff.

ZEDAPH - S7 - 06

Something really weird happened.

Grian’s been menaced by Puzzler a lot lately, and I sort of ended up running into one of those menacement sessions? I figured I should chip in and help out, so I butted into the conversation and tried to be obnoxiously cheerful, as Puzzler plays nice around anyone that isn’t Grian.

The second I popped out of the bushes with a “he-LLO guys!” though, purple shadow jerk’s eyes widened - all of them, even the ones on its wings - and it took a step back. Eyes flicked from me to Grian and then back again.

“He’s dangerous,” it told Grian, and then flew off.

I have no idea what that was about, because it’s not like I’m particularly skilled at PvP or even PvE, and I don’t have a special creepy shadow like Joe (or any shadow besides Merino, actually). Grian didn’t seem to know what was going on, either, but he thanked me for the help.

My headache flared up as soon as he approached… went from background annoyance to full-on migraine. Grian seemed worried, but I told him it was really just a me problem and that I’d be fine.

After that, I headed out to the shadowlands for a bit, because my head just wouldn’t stop pounding and I needed a break from it. I didn’t do any dungeon-crawling this time, just sat on the uppermost layer and stared into the abyss.

It didn’t stare back because, y’know, it’s a pit, pits don’t have eyes, but the cool air made me feel a lot better and when I returned my headache was less bad.

ZEDAPH - S7 - 07

So apparently the person reading my notes isn’t Joyful, because I confronted him today and he seemed… super, super on edge, but about something entirely else. Apparently, he’s got some sort of outcome-controlling power, except he can’t use it on me. He says that he blanks on the words whenever it comes to me.

He said I should be careful. And then my headache flared up again, particularly badly this time, and Joyful got concerned and said he’d leave me alone for the time being.

I tried to track down Puzzler again, since it seemed to actually know what was going on with me, but nobody’s seen Grian’s shadow around in a while, even Grian himself. From what Grian says, Puzzler might have gotten desummoned somehow, and nobody really wants him resummoned except for the shadowvex.

I really hope I don’t run into desummoned Puzzler in the shadowlands next time I go, because that would be even worse.

ZEDAPH - S7 - 07.1

Maybe the old shadows are rising. The glitchy abyss seemed to have risen up a little more than before - I was going to leave off the week’s entry before, but I wanted to make note of this before I forgot to do so.

I didn’t see Puzzler anywhere, though.

ZEDAPH - S7 - 08

Still no sign of Puzzler. Good riddance, Grian says. But now, in addition to the other shadows, even the jerks like Apex and Jigsaw are starting to avoid me, and I’m really not sure why. I don’t think I’ve changed much as a person, and none of the other hermits have come up with anything.

Joyful used to sort of watch me from around corners, and now he’s intensified that activity. If he wasn’t reading my notes before, then he definitely is now. So, uh, hi - please stop staring at me, and actually talk to me? I promise I’m not going to start a fight.

ZEDAPH - S7 - 09

I woke up and my mouth tasted like oil.

ZEDAPH - S7 - 09.1

Okay, I don’t remember writing the first part of this entry, so I guess I must have woken up really early, written it, and then immediately fallen asleep again? Best guess, I might actually be sick - between the headaches and now me feeling a little woozy while in the overworld, I’ve probably gotten a very mild version of the bends.

So I stayed in bed today, drifted in and out of sleep as a couple of the other hermits stopped in. One of them - the guy that stuck around the longest - was Joe.

Apparently nobody’s seen Joyful around for a few days…

I’m not an idiot. Something’s wrong.

ZEDAPH - S7 - 09.2

Snuck out of bed to check the shadowlands. The old shadows rose another few blocks. I watched the abyss for a few minutes, glad to be rid of all the weird illness symptoms, and then I felt a hand rest on my shoulder. They didn’t push me, so I just let them leave it there for a minute more…

And then I turned to look up at them, and there was nobody there. The hand still felt like it was on my shoulder, but nobody was actually there.

I should probably not go to the shadowlands again.

ZEDAPH - S7 - 10

So, I’ve abstained from going to the shadowlands for a while now, but shadows keep vanishing, and my bends keep getting worse and worse. It’s the new shadowvex, this time, they’re just straight up gone-gone. Can’t be summoned even to go into the shadowlands.

Man, this new mechanic is really buggy.

ZEDAPH - S7 - 10.1

I caved.

The abyss has risen higher.

It’s not staring back yet.

ZEDAPH - S7 - 11

I keep waking up places that I don’t remember going to sleep. I’ve decided this is way too dangerous, because I’m pretty sure I’m the reason that shadows keep vanishing. So far it’s been mostly the mean ones. I don’t want them to get at anyone else, either one of the nice shadows or one of the actual hermits.

I also don’t remember writing the entry for 10.1, so it’s safe to say that something is horribly, awfully wrong. And it’s probably my fault…

I have a dumb idea - I’m gonna see if jumping into the abyss does anything. Maybe it’ll reverse all this if I die to the mechanic? Also, it’d be my first death on this new server, and that’d be a pretty neat way to go out.

ZEDAPH - S7 - 11.1

So I’m standing there, fully prepared to yeet myself into the abyss, when I feel a hand on my shoulder again. And this time, when I turned around, there was something there.

I’m pretty sure it was my shadow, because it had the same proportions as me, only it was absolutely as pitch-black as the abyss below. I couldn’t make out any details besides yellow eyes and the glint of sharp white teeth when it spoke.

“Not yet,” it told me.

And now I’m back in the overworld somehow. My mouth tastes like oil again.

ZEDAPH - S7 - 12

Xisuma’s gone.

...My eyes have always been yellow, right?

ZEDAPH - S7 - 13

It told me, one last thing, the place I should go when it’s all done.

Craterville.

I’m going to see an old friend.

#THIS IS NOT CANON BECAUSE IF IT IS THEN HC WOULD BE OVER.#RIP THE FUCKING SERVER #yt #txt #shadow people au #zedaph

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