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her-satanic-wiles · 5 months ago

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Dawn Chorus - I

Dracopia x Fallen Angel!Reader

When you question the Almighty for a third time, you find yourself on the run and escaping a horde of wrathful angels ready to punish you for your insolence. Whose garden should you fall into than Cardinal Copia’s? And he has more nefarious plans for you.

Masterlist ⛧ Commissioned by anonymous ⛧ Series Masterlist

Words: 6.5k.

Reading Time: 26 min.

Warnings: attempted execution, blood, detailed aftermath of war, detailed deaths of children, detailed grief, detailed pain, mentions of sexual abuse within the church, mentions of rape, torture, violence

Taglist: @da-rulah @teenage-birt-dag @akayuki56 @dopey-fandom-girl @ravensbars @copiaspet622 @onlyhereforghost @ultrahalloweengirl @ad-astra-per-aspera-1976

Author’s note: This part of the story contains the origins of the Zionist argument, claiming that the land of Palestine belongs to Jewish people by will of God. I have written this section of the chapter as close to the Christian Bible as possible in an attempt to avoid Zionist ideology or propaganda - and I want to make one thing abundantly clear: this is a pro-Palestine blog. I will always and forever stand with the people of Palestine, and do my utmost to use my platform to promote the liberation of the Palestinians under Israeli apartheid. Zionism and Zionists have no place at my table. Please continue to boycott companies, platforms and people who send aid and support to the colonial state of Israel. Thank you.

🔞 MDNI 🔞

As this fic is quite dark, I'm choosing to rate it 21+. Please respect my decision. Thank you.

Your heart was pounding in your chest, from the physical exertion or the panic rising in the pit of your stomach, you couldn’t quite tell. Your mind was a contradicting war zone, unsure of which team would win. On the one hand, your brain was buzzing with adrenaline, playing back every event which lead you to this moment: running for your life away from God’s chosen soldiers, avoiding your inevitable demise like a human billionaire and his taxes. You had shown yourself alternate scenarios in which this didn’t happen, in which you’d still be safe in the Humanities Department of Heaven, distributing angels to help God’s children and guide them to the Light. Or enjoying the presence of a fellow guardian angel at the proverbial water cooler. The other side of the battle was autopilot-mode, no thoughts, no feelings, just running to save yourself.

You had a fierce belief in your Leader - almost entirely unwavering and unquestioning. You were His daughter, mirrored in His image and devoted only to Him. You did His bidding as requested, journeyed to realms under His name, played the messenger when He had something important to say to His children. You were there when Gabriel delivered God’s message to the Virgin Mary, hovering in the background and keeping Mary safe from harm in order to protect the coming of Christ. You aided in escaping Peter from prison, making him invisible to the guards as you and some others guided him to freedom by the will of the Almighty.You believed in Him so strongly, that you didn’t need to question Him - because He was always right, and His plan was always just.

You saw how the people of Egypt suffered at the hands of your Lord, and personally watched as the souls of the firstborn children who were slaughtered by Him as an act of protest against Pharaoh and his tyrannic reign. You kept your mouth shut at the livestock, knowing that food could be replenished easily enough. You thought about saying something when you saw the innocence of Egypt battling against the boils that God had given them. By His grace, you could even turn a blind eye to the adult firstborns who were killed as collateral damage. But the children? Some as young as newborns, all the way up to twelve years old. Pure babies without an ounce of hate or sins in their hearts, who didn’t understand the difference between their heathenish beliefs and their Hebrew friends. Who had never whipped a slave, or ordered the execution of God’s children. Who never had the cognitive capacity to think of such a thing, because their brains hadn’t had the chance to learn, to change, to join in God’s favour.

You’d never forget the small boy you watched over in the seconds before he took his last breath, sleeping soundly in his bed after a long day of studying and games. He couldn’t have been older than six. The oldest child to a woman whose husband had passed on mere months before. To a woman who was hanging on by a fragile thread as it was. You watched the boy’s breath rise and fall steadily in his peaceful slumber, until his chest fell for the final time. You watched his soul rise from his body, confused for a moment - painfully unaware that his mortal life had ended. You saw the fear in his eyes when he looked at his lifeless body in his bed, and felt his frustration when his mother ignored his pleas for help, not understanding that she couldn’t see his soul. You observed as Horus came for the child, wrapping His arm around him and offering some comfort to his distress. Horus looked at you as you stood in the doorway of the bedroom, His avian eyes full of the darkest of emotions as He guided yet another soul to the underworld, to have their heart weighed and judged by the guardian at the gates. His loathing poured off of Him as He shot you that look, before disappearing into the night with the child. You didn’t kill the boy, but under the gaze of Horus, you felt as though you had.

Leaving the boy’s home, the streets were full of lost and confused souls, ranging in age and wealth but all sharing the same sorrow and fear. Among the devastation stood your doubts of the Almighty’s plan, and the question of why lingered on your lips even as you were summoned back to Heaven to give a report on the situation - on its success. You felt uncomfortable as you summarised what you saw to the archangel Michael, who looked triumphant in God’s success, knowing he had carried it out perfectly for Him. He thanked you for your hard work - and in that moment, you had never felt so disgusted with yourself.

Of course, your thoughts were never your own, and you were called in to meet with your superiors about your doubts. They seemed to be reasonable, and understanding, especially given that this was your first offense. They promised to set your mind at ease, and reminded you that you were merely a foot-soldier in the Great Plan. You didn’t need to worry, you just needed to do as you were asked. Then they kicked you out of the office with a bad taste in your mouth, and a sense of foreboding of the things to come. Surely His plan couldn’t get any worse?

Then Canaan happened.

After the Israelites escaped slavery in Egypt, they wandered in the wilderness for forty years, led by their leader, Moses. During this time, God promised them a land of their own, a fertile land called Canaan, where they could settle and prosper. When Moses died, a new leader named Joshua arose to lead the Israelites into Canaan. Before entering the land, Joshua received a command from God to conquer it. God promised to be with Joshua and the Israelites, assuring them of victory if they remained faithful. Under the pretext of divine sanction, and God’s name on their lips, the Israelites engaged in systematic warfare, besieging cities, slaughtering men, women, and children, and plundering their possessions. The conquest was marked by bloodshed, devastation, and the utter annihilation of indigenous populations. Then they burned the whole city and everything in it, but they put the silver and gold and the articles of bronze and iron into the treasury of the Lord’s house. Jericho fell to ruin, crumbling in ashes on the ground as fire engulfed the buildings and eating everything it could. You watched as they celebrated over the dead, drank themselves into a stupor in the ruined homes, covered in the blood of the innocent. They didn’t bother themselves to move the corpses until the celebrations were over, days after they declared victory.

Despite the humans being unable to see you, you were still a real being wandering the streets of Canaan, sobering at the sights before you. Your beautiful, white wings dragged on the floor as you walked, gathering the dirt and the blood at the tips of your feathers. God’s children had got the land that they were promised, but what was the cost? From the freeing of the Hebrews to the conquering of Canaan, all you could see were the bodies that had been left behind of the civilians caught up in the fight. Though the blood pooled in puddles no more than 3cm deep, it felt as though you were in it up to your neck. You looked at the conquerors in disgust, and with a rage you’d never felt before - especially when you realised that, for Joshua, peace was never an option worthy of consideration. You were suffocated by the sinners that surrounded you, the murderers and looters, the fornicators who lurked in dark alleyways to celebrate with any passerby willing or otherwise. You watched as indigenous stragglers were dealt with, some more humanely than others and you wondered: was this truly God’s will all along? Did He plan for such brutality? Did He allow Joshua to go as far as he did - and did He give Joshua the strength and the power to do so? Or did He look at His children in disgust and disappointment, ashamed of them for turning to sin and Satan so easily in a moment of pure happiness? Despite claiming to worship a God of love and justice, the Israelites demonstrated cruelty and brutality in their pursuit of land and power - and your faith wavered a second time when you realised that your worst fears were true: God really did give Joshua the power to do as he did, and He felt no remorse for it.

You were pulled into your superior’s office again, this time scolded with much less understanding than before. Gabriel and Michael looked at you with disdain, nothing but anger in their eyes and on their faces as you sat before them in the celestial white room, eyes aching from the brightness.

Gabriel, with his luminous wings unfurled, regarded you with a solemn gaze. “Again, ___? Hast thou not learned from thy previous lapse in faith? Our duty as angels is to serve unquestioningly, to uphold the divine order without falter.”

Michael, his expression stern and unwavering, spoke with commanding authority. “Indeed, ___, the Almighty’s will is not for us to question. It is our sacred duty to carry out His commands with unwavering devotion.”

You bowed your head, feeling the weight of their reproach heavy upon you. “I understand, my lords. But I cannot help but struggle with the suffering and turmoil wrought by our actions. Is it not within our power to seek mercy and compassion, even amidst the fulfilment of divine justice?”

Gabriel’s gaze softened, though his tone remained firm. “Our understanding is limited, ___. We cannot comprehend the intricacies of God’s divine plan. It is not for us to question His wisdom or to challenge His authority.”

Michael nodded in agreement. “Our loyalty to the Creator must remain steadfast, even in the face of uncertainty or doubt. We are His instruments, His messengers, and His will shall be done.”

You sighed, “But His will brings the destruction of cities and the deaths of children. His own children. It is difficult for me to truly follow Him when there is so much devastation.”

Gabriel’s brow furrowed slightly at your words, his expression a mix of compassion and admonition. “___,” he said gently, “we are but conduits of His divine will. Our mortal understanding pales in comparison to the grand tapestry of His design. Though we may not comprehend the reasons behind the trials and tribulations, we must trust in His wisdom and benevolence.”

Michael’s gaze remained steely, but a hint of empathy flickered in his eyes. “Indeed, ___,” he spoke firmly, “the path of righteousness is not always easy to tread. But it is our duty to carry out His commands, no matter the cost. Our faith must endure even in the face of adversity.”

You felt a pang of uncertainty gnaw at your celestial essence, torn between the call of duty and the ache of compassion. “But what of mercy?” you questioned, your voice tinged with desperation. “What of compassion for His creations, even in their moments of waywardness?”

Gabriel’s voice held a note of solemnity as he responded, “Mercy and justice are intertwined in the divine order, ___. Though His judgments may seem harsh, they are tempered by His boundless love. We must trust that His actions serve a higher purpose, even when they are beyond our comprehension.”

Michael’s voice continued in his firmness, his tone sharp and parental. “Let this be the last time we speak of this, ___. There will be consequences to thy actions the next time thou decidest to question the Almighty.”

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words pressing down upon you like a leaden mantle. The gravity of his warning was unmistakable, a stark reminder of the consequences of defiance in the face of divine authority.

“Yes, my lord,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. “I understand.”

As Gabriel contemplated the situation, a solemn expression settled upon his countenance. After a moment of contemplation, he spoke, his voice measured and grave. “___,” he began, his tone tinged with a sense of sorrow, “in light of thy transgression and the gravity of thy doubts, it is clear that a lesson must be learned.” He paused, as if searching for the right words to convey his thoughts. Then, with a decisive nod, he continued, “I propose thou be assigned a period of reflection and penance. During this time, thou wilt be tasked with assisting souls in need—those who have lost their way, who suffer in anguish, or who cry out for guidance.”

Gabriel’s suggestion carried the weight of solemn judgment, yet also held the promise of redemption. It was a punishment tempered with compassion, an opportunity for growth and renewal amidst the shadows of doubt.

“Thou wilt walk among mortals,” Gabriel concluded, his gaze unwavering, “bearing witness to their struggles and offering solace in the name of the Almighty. May this experience serve to strengthen thy faith and reaffirm thy devotion to His divine will.”

“Let her spend time in Canaan until her penance is served, as she holds so much sympathy for the dead sinners.” Michael suggested, a smug tone oozing from his voice. He almost lit up at the look of protest you shot him, wanting to argue but Gabriel raising a hand and stopping you from speaking.

“It is decided. Thou may only return to us here when thou no longer holdeth contempt for our Lord. Dost thou have anything thou wishest to say?”

You stood and spread your wings, stretching them out and flapping them sharply in frustration. “There are several things I should like to say.” You retorted fiercely. “I shall restrain the urge, however. The Almighty gave me a tongue to use and a brain to think, after all.”

“And thou would doest well to remember that.” Michael commented, the smirk fading from his face. “Go. Leave us, petulant child. Perform thy duties and know thy place.”

Your time in Canaan was dreary - especially given that you didn’t want to be there in the first place, surrounded by those who used His name to spread evil. But still, you guided His creations as you were told to do, their guardian spirit keeping them from harm and returning them to the Light when their own beliefs had wavered. You felt somewhat like a hypocrite, guiding the wayward souls back to their own beliefs when you, yourself, were questioning yours. And, if you were to be truthful, your faith never completely restored to how it was before Canaan was conquered. You still held even the smallest amount of contempt for the Almighty, and silently questioned everything He did, wondering if His plans would succeed in peace or be laced with blood. But eventually, Heaven forgave you and told you that you were welcome to return, and you did so as though it was the easiest choice you had ever made… because, well, it was.

But all of that lead you to your third strike.

It had been some time since you entered the Mortal Realm, choosing to spend your time in Heaven and directing other angels to their tasks. You hadn’t really paid much attention to God’s creations as a result, almost entirely out of the loop. Since your time in Canaan, according to your fellow angels, much had changed. Great churches were built and devoted to God, while wars waged in His name and His word spread to those who needed it the most. Yet, in those churches, you discovered corruption everywhere you looked. The righteous taking their power and using it to abuse others, in God’s very own home, watched by the Saints and Apostles as they committed the most disgusting of acts to the vulnerable and the needy, as though they condoned such behaviour. You saw people, of all ages, routinely touched against their will, forced into submission and shunned if they dared to say anything - blamed by God’s other children for a crime they didn’t commit, but were the victims of instead. You watched the cycle repeat, families torn apart, and all the while the situation was monitored and allowed. Perhaps, even, ordered by the Lord Himself. You couldn’t bear it - you couldn’t fathom that the Almighty who you’d followed blindly your entire life could hurt another being like that, when He often portrayed Himself to be a kind and benevolent soul, a loving father to those who loved him. You needed to know why. Why must he enact such cruelty on his own creations?

You stormed into Michael’s office, where he, Gabriel, and Raphael met, staring at you in disbelief that you’d have the audacity to do such a thing. “I wish to speak with the Lord.” You demanded, anger coursing through your veins like never before.

Raphael’s brows furrowed. “Directly?”

“Yes.”

He laughed in disbelief. “Child, not even we get a direct audience with the Almighty. Whatever could thou say to Him?”

Gabriel sighed, disappointment oozing from his celestial being. “Thy faith hath wavered yet again, hath it not?”

“Aye, I stand before thee once more, yet again with a heart heavy with doubt.”

Michael’s own anger was bubbling under the surface. “Speak, and let us hear thy grievance.”

“My lords, I cannot remain silent any longer. I have witnessed the depths of depravity within the Church, the desecration of innocence by those who claim to be servants of God.”

“Thy words are bold, ___,” Gabriel said, his tone remaining level. “What troubles thee so?”

Your anger surfaced and manifested as a raised voice and shaking limbs. “‘Tis the scourge of sexual abuse that plagues the holy sanctuaries. Innocent children, robbed of their purity by those who should protect them. How can a just and loving God allow such atrocities to persist within His own house?”

Raphael nodded, unfazed by the spectacle in front of him. “Thy anguish is understandable.” He found this more entertaining than impertinent, clearly unaware of your two strikes before. “Yet thou must remember that God’s ways are beyond our understanding.”

“How can we stand idly by while the innocent suffer? Are we not tasked with defending the weak and the vulnerable?”

Gabriel rested his forehead on his hand. “Thou dost speak with passion,” he was exasperated by you, “but thou must not forget thy place. God’s will is inscrutable, and we are but instruments of His divine plan. How many times must we remind thee?”

“I refuse to be silent any longer! I will not turn a blind eye to the suffering of the innocent, even if it means defying the will of my superiors.”

Michael slammed his fist on the white desk, standing from his seat behind it. “Thou dost tread dangerous ground. Thy defiance borders on heresy!”

You echoed his tone. “So be it! I would rather be branded a heretic than remain complicit in the face of such evil. This smells of the Devil, not of our Lord. I do not understand why He sits by and allows it to happen.”

Gabriel tried to keep the peace between all of you, but he was losing control of the situation quickly. “Thy faith hath faltered, and thy words ring with rebellion. Thou must reconsider thy stance before it is too late.”

“I cannot, in good conscience, remain silent any longer. If God truly exists, then He shall judge me for my actions. But I cannot stand by while His name is used to justify such abominations.”

“Then so be it, ___,” Michael resolved through gritted teeth. “If thou wilt not bend to the will of God, then thou must bear the consequences of thy defiance.”

“So be it.”

“Thou hast been found guilty of heresy and defiance against the will of God for the third time. As Archangel of Judgment, it falls upon me to administer thy punishment.”

“Thou may judge me, but know that my heart is true, and my intentions pure.”

“Thy intentions matter not. Thy actions have brought dishonour upon the celestial host, and thy defiance cannot go unpunished.”

Gabriel stood and walked over to his brother, placing a hand on his shoulder and speaking urgently into his ear. “Michael, perhaps we should consider a less severe punishment. Her heart may yet be turned back to the path of righteousness.”

Michael shook his head. “Nay, Gabriel. The time for leniency hath passed. Ariel’s repeated offences demand a swift and decisive response.” All the while, his wrathful gaze never left your face. “Thy fate is sealed. As Archangel of Judgment, I hereby decree that thou shalt be cast out from the celestial realm and condemned to the Abyss.”

Raphael’s eyes widened with shock, but he said nothing.

Gabriel shook his brother and with sadness, he said, “Michael, art thou certain this is the right course of action? Once the sentence is passed, there can be no turning back.”

Michael replied firmly, “It is done, Gabriel. Justice must be served, even if it breaks thy heart. Let the punishment be carried out.”

Knowing your fate was worse than death, your body reacted for you - even before your brain had decided the best course of action. You turned swiftly on your heels and made your escape, wings flapping and trying to gain enough speed to remove yourself from the Heavens. Your heart was pounding in your chest, from the physical exertion or the panic rising from the pit of your stomach, you couldn’t quite tell. Your mind was a contradicting war zone, unsure of which team would win. On the one hand, your brain was buzzing with adrenaline, playing back every event which lead you to this moment: running for your life away from God’s chosen soldiers, avoiding your inevitable demise.

The portal to the Mortal Realm was just in your grasp, so by only the adrenaline that you were running on, you forced yourself to speed up - making a mad dash for the open world in front of you. You could hear Michael’s calls to, “Close that gate! Do not let her through!”

Someone had listened and had begun closing the portal. The closer you got to it, the smaller the hole became, shrinking and shrinking until all you could see was the tiniest speck of blue peeking out. But you couldn’t let that deter you - if you were caught, your future would hold horrors beyond celestial comprehension. You made a dive, perhaps it was your madness that drove you to do it, the adrenaline, or even your desperation, but you dove nonetheless. Your whole body ripped through the closing portal, feeling the walls shut in on you and grip onto your body with a searing, hot pain you’d never experienced before. Escaping from the Heavens was never a kind task, otherwise more angels would have done it, but now you were caught in Earth’s atmosphere, the planet’s gravity pulling you down to its very core with all the force it could muster.

The warmth was the first thing you noticed, the friction caused by the air resistance generated intense heat, turning your body into a blazing inferno akin to a comet streaking across the sky. Your skin prickled and your hair stood on end as the flames licked at your body, consuming everything in their path. The feathers on the outside of your wings were flying off and burning up in the flames, turning to ash in the atmosphere and disappearing entirely. The rush of wind roared in your ears, drowning out all other sounds as you plummeted towards the ground. The air around you shimmered with heat, distorting your vision and adding to the surreal sensation of falling through space. Tears appeared in your eyes but you couldn’t tell if that was because of the pain you could feel or the wind biting against you.

Despite the intense heat and the overwhelming sense of impending doom, there was also a strange beauty to the experience. The fiery trail you left behind painted a mesmerizing picture against the night sky, a fleeting spectacle that few that resided on this planet would ever witness. The sight of the planet from so far above reminded you just how the Almighty had made it: some land, but mostly water. As you fell, you recalled the horrors of the deep, the mammals with sharp teeth and stomachs bigger than your entire body. In that moment, for the first time in a while, you prayed to Him. You begged Him over and over to guide your body to land. You were an angel, you were likely to survive the fall despite the pain you were about to endure, and your weakened state couldn’t handle a battle with a sea creature that only wanted you for lunch.

Hurtling towards the ground, the last thing you remembered thinking was, this is how hellfire must feel. And that was when the world went dark.

“Clearly … happened … Sister.”

As you slowly regained consciousness, you became painfully aware of the searing agony coursing through every inch of your body. With your eyes tightly shut, you focused on the sensation of pressure and discomfort, trying to piece together what had happened. Your limbs felt heavy and unresponsive, and sharp pains shot through you with every movement. It was as if your body had been battered and broken, the impact of the fall leaving you bruised and battered beyond recognition. All the bones inside were broken, the bridge of your wings included, and your head throbbed beyond belief, as though you had a thousand hammers raging war against your skull.

Despite the overwhelming pain, a sense of relief washed over you as you realized that you were still alive. The thought of having survived such a catastrophic event filled you with a mixture of gratitude and disbelief. Despite everything, He had heard your prayers and allowed you to touch ground - or perhaps this was the worst outcome… perhaps He wished for your pain as penance for your disobedience. Regardless, you would heal and be well, and then you could begin to live with the mortals and hide from Michael and his wrath. You were safe here… you were sure of it.

“… working … heard … looking … angel …”

The voice was registering with you now that you were regaining your cognitive abilities after the crash. Your brain was working over time to translate his words, though, leaving you slightly confused as this was phrasing you’d not heard before. You muttered something, your words coming out in Hebrew and silencing the man.

“What … ?” He asked, speaking some more but the rest of his words sounding fuzzy.

You tried again in Hebrew, but when that proved unyielding, you switched to Arabic.

“… know …?”

With great effort, you forced your eyes open, blinking away tears. Taking in your surroundings, you saw that you were lying amidst a pile of rubble, surrounded by the charred remnants of your fiery descent. You sat up a little, beholding the scene around you that was surreal and unsettling. The ground beneath you was scorched and blackened, a stark contrast to the surrounding, luscious, green landscape. The crater itself was a testament to the sheer force of your impact, a deep indentation in the Earth’s surface that stretched out before you in an almost perfect circle. The air was thick with the acrid smell of smoke and charred debris, making it difficult to breathe. The heat radiating from the ground beneath you was intense, searing your skin and making you sweat profusely despite the chill of the night air.

Looking around, you could see the devastation wrought by your fall. Trees lay shattered and splintered, their branches twisted and blackened by the flames. Rocks and debris littered the ground, scattered in all directions by the force of the impact. On the edge of the crater, the man you heard stood, staring at you in disbelief.

He wore robes; a symphony of rich, deep crimson, a colour that seemed to capture the essence of devotion and authority. Crafted from the finest silk, the fabric cascaded in graceful folds, accentuating the dignified stature of the wearer. Each stitch, meticulously placed, whispered of skilled hands that had laboured to create a garment befitting its esteemed purpose.

The robe’s skirt, adorned with intricate gold and black embroidery, depicted sacred symbols and religious motifs that told tales of faith and tradition - resembling the cross that Yeshua died upon, but placed upside-down. The golden threads shimmered in the ambient light, casting a subtle glow that highlighted the reverence with which the garment had been crafted.

A matching red sash, elegantly tied across the man’s chubby waist hid the many buttons that ran the length of the garment. Its edges, crisply pressed and perfectly straight to show his precision and need to look as clean as possible.

The man’s sleeves, were straight, yet too long for him, as was the rest of his attire. As tidy as these lines were, as much care went into keeping it pristine, it was far too big for him like it had been handed to him from someone else that used to wear it perfectly. The cuffs ended midway down his palms, which, themselves, were hidden beneath leather, black gloves.

One hand was up to his ear, holding something to it and speaking in a tongue you couldn’t understand. Your eyes travelled over his face, his white skin dimmed by the light of the moon, but mismatched eyes shining brightly beneath black paint around his eyes. One was the colour of ice, the other was the colour of the trees. You’d never seen such a thing before in all of God’s creations. A moustache of mouse-brown sat above his top lip, which also had been painted black. As he spoke, you looked at his teeth, perfectly white but canines sharper than most mortal’s dental structures. You had heard of such a thing - rumours spreading amongst the Israelites as they told each other stories in the dark of the night - abominations so foul they ate people, consuming the blood from their bodies and ending their lives in a moment’s notice, hiding in the shadows of the night as the sun would kill them. You’d reported back to Gabriel, who’d confirmed these abominations were the work of Lucifer, an archangel who had fallen many eons ago and had renamed himself to Satan. Your eyes had fallen upon a vampyre, and as your eyes roamed over the rest of his body, you saw your halo clutched in his left hand, pressed between his fingers firmly as though you may make a grab for it at any moment.

You made an attempt to back away from the monster, but the bones in your body were still healing - taking longer now that your halo was in the hands of another and not atop your head as it ought to have been. You took in your surroundings a little more, brain power restoring to maximum as you realised he must be of the ancient Romans, the very same people who had killed Yeshua.

“I pray thee, do not harm me,” you said, your tongue switching to Latin. This got the man to stop again and look at you.

“You’ve hurt yourself enough without me getting involved, haven’t you, Angel?” he asked, responding in Latin back to you. His tone was unsettling, confident and dark. The glint in his eyes mimicked this. “… Latin.” The switch in language made you realise he wasn’t talking to you, but an invisible person in your midst.

“What tongue dost thou speak?”

“You’re a servant of the Betrayer and you don’t know my language?” he laughed, then spoke again to the invisible one. His hand moved from his ear and you saw light coming from his hand - expecting pain from Hell, you flinched. When the pain didn’t come, you heard him again. “It’s just a phone,” he explained, making a mockery of you. “I thought everyone up there knew what was going on down here.”

You sighed, “I have not visited in a while.”

“Oh really? When was the last time you were down here, then?”

“I am not compelled to divulge aught to thee, foul creature!” your voice was laced with disdain as you looked at him, fangs exposed as he grinned at you. He took a step towards the crater, and you tried to move back, howling in pain as you did so and earning another laugh from him.

“Then I’m not compelled to help you get your bearings.”

You stopped for a moment and thought - more knowledge would be useful at this stage. And keeping him talking would buy you some healing time and strengthen to get your halo then run again. “I beheld the passing of Yeshua - and that was mine ultimate moment in this earthly realm.”

The vampyre hissed at Yeshua’s name, almost as if he was in pain just hearing the name of the Holy Son. He straightened himself up and then took a seat on the edge of the crater. “That was two-thousand years ago, Angel. A lot’s changed since then.”

“What other tongue didst thou employ just now?”

“It’s called English. A mixture of Latin, Greek and German.”

A Germanic influence - you wondered why you were only picking up the Latin words at first. You were only prepared with the languages spoke around the time of Yeshua, meaning anything new that had been developed since was completely lost to your ears. Now that you knew the main languages, you commanded, “Speaketh once more in the English tongue.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” He replied, but he did so in English.

“I comprehend thy words now. I give thee thanks.”

He scoffed. “That was fast.”

“‘Tis a… gift… from the Almighty.”

He looked at you in disgust.

You felt your body had healed enough for the pain to mostly subside, allowing you to fight your way to your feet. Your wings were still shattered, however, making you feel like a broken bird, vulnerable and weak in the eyes of her prey. The vampyre was preying on you, after all. “I express gratitude for the knowledge shared, yet I must make haste on my journey. I shall reclaim my halo and depart henceforth.” You held out your hand, silently praying that he’d be courteous and return your halo to you.

He looked at your hand and then at you. “Yeah, I don’t think so.” He stood from his seat and took a step towards you, watching you flinch as you stepped back. “The son of the Dark One has an angel in his grasp - what makes you think you’re going anywhere, hm?” He was moving towards you at an alarming rate, rendering your body useless against his speed. He gripped hold of your arm, tightly trapping you beneath his gloved fingers. You struggled against him, pulling back as hard as you could but failing, your body still not strong enough. “The way you fell makes me think you came here without permission, right? Which means, we have a lot to talk about.”

“Release me.”

“Or what?”

“I shall slay thee.”

He simply laughed, before turning to a person who was walking towards you, emerging from the darkness. She was a woman, visibly older than the vampyre and a little chunkier, too. She had long, blonde hair and looked more human than monster, though, you came to quickly realise she was a monster like him, and when she spoke, she did so in English. “The Unholy Father blessed us with a gift tonight,” she commented through a smile.

“What do we do with her now, Sister?” the vampyre asked, English rolling off his tongue easier than the Latin he spoke to you in.

The woman entered the crater and grabbed hold of your chin, looking at your body in one, fell swoop before making her decision. “Take her to the basements and strap her up - we have a lot of questions to ask about her home, don’t we, little angel?”

“Unhand me!” you yelled, struggling against both of their grasps.

The woman gripped onto your wrists and tied a metal chain around them - the metal burned against your skin as you fought against her, the pain getting worse and worse until you were forced to still. “Forged with hellfire,” she explained, “you’re not getting out of that easily.”

The vampyre dragged you across the grass and into a building, smelling old and of incense. You could tell that the building techniques were similar to the Babylonian buildings, but with Roman Corinthian architecture thrown in. There were also elements to this structure that you hadn’t seen before, and was only paying attention to because you needed to escape.

The vampyre pulled you down some steps, travelling further and further below ground as though he were walking you to Hell, until you finally stopped at a door. The room he threw you into was cold and dark, and it smelled almost exclusively of damp. In the centre of the room was a table, propped up on wood and resembling a crucifix. You were strapped onto it, similarly to the Messiah, except your device was made exclusively of hellfire-forged metal, making your entire body tingle with pain. You fought against him all the while, trying your best to escape, but all your efforts proved to be in vain. Once the woman entered the room, the torture truly began.

They both asked you things, questions about Heaven and the Almighty’s plan that you couldn’t answer even if you wanted to. When they were met with answers they didn’t like, they would reopen wounds that had healed and damage your body in ways that were unimaginable once upon a time. Feathers were plucked from your wings to start with, following cuts to your skin, slaps, and then short bursts of hellfire that rose from the ground. But you remained silent throughout, save for your screams of agony.

Eventually, they grew tired, and as the vampyre left, he looked at you and smirked. “We all have eternity, Angel. You’ll be here for the rest of it if you don’t cooperate.” He winked at you. “See you tomorrow.”

The door to the room closed behind them, slamming shut with an echo that reverberated throughout your entire being. Your halo sat on the other side of the room, resting on a table and taunting you. You could hear it crying out for you and your body begging for it. If you wore it, you’d heal in no time and regain all of your strength. But just being in its presence meant it would take longer. You were never without your halo and your holy light, but you’d seen what had happened to angels who were. Fearing that this was to be your fate, you wondered if it would have served you better to be caught by Michael and thrown to the void. Or perhaps you should have just continued on in blind faith of the Almighty, doing His bidding despite your heart breaking each time.

Strapped to Hell’s crucifix, all you could do was think of all the regrets you had, and beg into the darkness that He would show you mercy and allow you to come home. Or die quickly.

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barbika1508 · 8 months ago

Text

A dead man, a criminal. Prisoner. Murderer.

Word Count: 14,1k

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x F! Reader

Genre: Action, Romance, Smut

Summary: Your typical-ish ‘breaking Sebastian out of Azkaban’ fic with a bit of angst sprinkled in, but also porn with some plot to put a cheery on top.

Authors Note: Use of MC. I’m sure there are mistake but oh well, otherwise please enjoy my twist on a classic Sebastian Sallow fic. I say classic as it feels like one to me.

Steady breaths. Steady breaths. Steady. Breathe. Breathe in. Breathe out.

‘’It's rather odd.’’ a pause follows ‘’They usually send tougher blokes for these things. No offence.’’

I don't bother turning to the guard and his comment, feeling his eyes run up and down my body, the extra layers I've put on doing their job making me look more robust. Even with the Polyjuice potion I’ve drank, resembling a man of a smaller stature with added weight to look as non-threatening as I can, having chosen a muggle I’ve passed two months ago selling newspapers in London.

''None taken.’’ I offer a fake smile snorting, keeping up the acting letting my eyes shift around, the lack of my wand only slightly concerning the guard the only one armed between the two of us ‘’Happens a lot.’’ I grumble coughing as the muggle is a smoker it reflecting in my breathing as it’s becoming heavier the more we walk. My body is aching for rest.

‘’I can imagine.’’ he shrugs, not seeing the glare I send him, being offended in the nameless muggle’s name instead. I flinch as someone suddenly screams at the top of their lungs, the voice carrying around the hall, the cell doors after all wooden with small windows carved in them, bared by metal bars not leaving them open.

The shout is coming from a criminal and yet they are still made of flesh and blood like I am. It sends a nasty chill to run down my spine. It's going to follow me I already know it.

Incredulous as I was before - silently of course - I observe the guard who is completely unphased. He unlocks metal barred doors with a regular key, not using any magic letting us pass into the third section of the prison. The further in we are making it into Azkaban the worse the conditions are. Shouts, screams of pain, manic laughter are the few sounds that have been accompanying me since setting foot on this gods forsaken island.

Taking the moment as the auror wrestles with a new key, I look around the surprisingly lit corridor. With torches on the walls providing light, we’ve reached a section where there’s lack of natural lighting. So, following along the spaciousness my gaze takes me upwards.

Something I was warned against. Of course, curiosity killed the cat after all.

I sallow uneasy at the sight of what seem hundreds if not thousands of dementors swirl near the ceilings, their attention set onto us. Even with good distance between them and us, their mere presence is shattering. Ugly creatures. I feel my own will beginning to falter, bad memories itching to surface to the front of my mind. It’s hard to resist and has me putting in great effort and a deal of concentration to keep my thoughts blank.

‘’They must be sensing you.’’ the guard comments, his voice sounding unnatural in the once more quiet space. Glancing at him with a raised eyebrow he nods stopping to stand next to me ‘’You are faring a lot better than most blokes that come through. I’ll give ya that.’’

‘’In what sense?’’ I manage out following him, his words leaving me uneasy. But not rattled.

‘’Ahh even the biggest of the meatheads that do their bosses biding retrieving poor saps…’’ he glances back at me to which I nod furrowing my brows ‘’...tend to lose it for a few moments on different sections. Fear is a powerful thing.’’

Narrowing my eyes his words hold something deep to them. I’m getting his hint. Other than that, the man besides looking rather bored at times is quite unreadable I’m certain this place leaving effect on him as well. Keeping my observances to myself I trail along as I have been from the beginning, trying my best to ignore this body’s strain which I am putting it through.

‘’It can make you do bizarre things.’’ I say under my breath playing the character I envisioned for the man I am portraying.

The guard hums taking a turn to the right hands back on another keychain containing a few bizarre, shaped keys. Unique to the cells.

‘’It is your lucky day number 18031.’’ he speaks up unlocking the door ‘’Or unlucky given your future is still rather grim. From what I can deduct.’’ he looks back at me giving me a once over once more, along with an unnecessarily creepy and cruel smirk that I have to force out too to fool this lunatic.

The guard per instruction from before makes his way into the cell chatting happily with the prisoner leaving me alone outside. The warmth from the many torches is non-existent, a dangerous type of chill that rattles my bones begins to settle. Once more glancing up the dementors are itching closer in what I can describe is interest.

Cocking my head, I try not to focus on them too closely, clearing my mind of distractions, trying to stop jittering or the need to clack my teeth together. I’m already feeling like life is pointless, the weight of the world set on my shoulders once more. But that is the extent of it, the thrumming in my blood keeping me collected.

The lullaby I call it of my ancient magic is a soothing whisper in my ears.

‘’Ah there we go.’’ comes the guards voice pushing out the man not roughly but enough to get him moving. It takes everything in me from not reaching out watching as the bearded youngster catches himself from falling, his hands chained.

‘’Are the chains necessary?’’ I ask frowning, looking at the guard as he smiles locking the door.

‘’Moreso for you than us Mr. Blane.’’ his reply is of amusement ‘’He is a criminal, but I’m sure you’ve heard that from your boss already.’’

‘’A wandless one.’’ I raise an eyebrow checking the young man over, seeing his hunched form. He’s hiding his face behind long brown hair, the stripped ‘uniform’ he’s forced to wear too big on his form, full of tears. Barefoot he looks like he hasn’t bathed in forever.

‘’You’ve not seen a man brought to their knees by despair yet, have ya?’’ the guard chats as if we’re talking about the weather leaving the prison doors open turning towards the same way where we came from. I subconsciously fall in step with the prisoner giving the prisoner a few seconds of time, watching, and waiting for him to take the first step which he does.

‘’I have.’’ I admit the last 10 years not exactly easy.

‘’Different kind of despair then.’’ the guard hums beginning to unlock the doors ‘’Not to give any ideas but think of basic instincts Mr. Blane. Primal.’’ again the creepy smile is back, the guard’s eyes portraying cruelty he I’m sure has gotten scarily good at hiding. His change in mood is due to something he saw in me, I’m sure. A mannerism I did or an answer that made him switch from apparent boredom to genuine emotions. Which isn't reassuring.

I return the grin trying my hardest not to gag, the emotions swirling in my belly strong.

‘’Hmmm. Thank you for the lesson. I’ll keep that in mind for future encounters.’’

If I was in my own skin, I’d be jumping out of it. The cruelty of the situation the darkness, this prison the capital of corruption and soullessness, insanity sounding blissful even.

Even if the people here are the worst of the worst of wizard kind it’s all too inhumane. As we begin trekking forward with the guard whistling a song, I follow behind the two. The prisoner not having uttered a word, his whole-body showing defeat as he drags his legs, shoulders that are wide and filled slouched. Taller than me for a whole head.

Satisfaction brought the cat back.

The thought crosses my mind my gaze taking me upwards again, to the new dementors who are hovering above us as we make way. Unsettling. Anyone would be unsettled with dark creatures doing so.

I’m no different.

Curiosity after all is not always worth it. Satisfaction even less. So, I redirect the impulsive thought of releasing some magic out to the corner of my mind, the dementors still presenting mystery to this day. In that regards we are similar. Because even though they present fear that has spread to every witch and wizard, here I stand walking beneath them still confident and reassured even wandless they wouldn’t harm me unlike my wizard kin.

My magic is telling me much.

Reaching the last doors takes us a while, our trek unhurried but briefed before we entered the first corridor. I have a hate/love relationship with patience. And the closer we are to the exit the carriage with which I’ve arrived in my sight the more my magic buzzes along with my excitement which I’m desperately trying to keep at bay.

The guard that accompanied me goes to talk to his buddy that’s keeping post at the entrance, the man looking even more uninterested sending us a brief glance only once as he signs scrolls, transfiguring a stone table from a rock nearby.

Glancing at the prisoner he’s still motionless standing next to me like a statue. His hair has grown long, past his shoulders, beard also overgrown. His skin like I mentioned is covered in dirt and grime some clear spots revealing faded freckles. Hmm.

‘’Alright Mr. Blane.’’ the guard cheers still in a jolly mood trotting over to me, presenting the scroll wide and open ‘’The paperwork and the prisoner as promised are all delivered in one piece.’’ and back comes the unsettling grin. The man is too proud of himself and his wrong doings.

‘’Ah that’s a good man.’’ I cough squinting as I read the death certificate bringing my left hand from the pocket of my coat bringing out the handkerchief, I’ve been holding to wipe my mouth as I read the entirety of the page, making sure of the details ‘’Splendid.’’ I continue letting out another cough a hiccup following. Oh no.

‘’Well at the end of the day, we’ve gotten quite the stroll out hey. Besides getting jobs done.’’ I cheer still wiping my mouth that’s beginning to tingle as are my fingers, the potion starting to waver.

‘’A lovely one at that admittedly. I’ve pegged you wrongly at first. You’re quite the brave man Mr. Blake.’’

I laugh with him fishing out a small bag of coins handing them over to him, his eyes practically sparkling as well as the bored guards as he comes over giving the prisoner a disgusted look but makes sure to stand away from him ‘’The amount is as promised lads. And this…’’ I reach for the trouser pocket and bring out 6 more coins splitting them between the two ‘’For your troubles and help.’’ I smile gratefully ready to puke my guts out, my skin literally crawling, my left leg beginning to itch unbelievably.

‘’Ahhhh Mr. Blane. How generoussss.’’ the overly joyed guard cheers, the bored one looking impressed ‘’The pleasure was all ours.’’

‘’Indeed.’’ the bored guard adds handing over my wand which was also made to look different, the redness of the wood of my wand masked into black wood along with the handle being switched into a plain one.

‘’Gentlemen.’’ I nod in acknowledgement ‘’Business calls. Have yourself a pleasant day onwards.’’ I greet and begin to walk ignoring the prisoner as the guard eagerly steps to him. I hear them both follow to the carriage, the Thestral’s patiently waiting.

Not entirely used to the big belly of this body I stumble and practically climb into the carriage. Beginning to sweat and not only from fatigue I start to wipe my forehead, smiling as the “nicer” guard ushers the prisoner into the carriage with me, making him sit opposite as I’ve sat with my back to the Thestral’s.

‘’Until next time Mr. Blane.’’ the guard greets looking up as I cover my mouth the trembles happening all over my body. I play it off with a nod and another cough, the guard getting the message and closing the doors. Not wasting any time, I wave my wand magic the Thestral’s neighing in reply pulling us forth, the movement rough having me grip onto the seat as we practically launch into the air.

Waving my wand, the tinny curtains of the doors close shut as I try to catch my breath sitting back feeling very uncomfortable in this body, the grumbling getting louder and obnoxious, brown eyes peeking at me.

My breath gets caught at the sight of them. And my smile is instantaneous.

‘’Sorry about this…’’ the change in my voice is noticeable getting higher pitched, but lowering quickly as if one was changing the frequency on the radio ‘’...this will probably be uncomfortable for the both of us.’’

And with that, I attempt at shrugging off the oversized coat I’ve got on, barely managing it as my skin begins to morph, my eyesight sharpening from the dullness it has fallen into. The weight from the male anatomy is the hardest to disappear leaving me without air, the more my body reforms, hair prickling as it grows and regrows. Bones and limbs twist, organs readjusting. The heaviness in my lungs disintegrates and I’m left feeling like I’m breathing clean air after a long time.

The transformation back into myself leaves me winded and a bit lost for time. Because what feels like agonizing minutes, I’m sure it was seconds that passed. Sitting slumped against the carriage seat I look back up to meet my favourite pair of brown eyes, still unchanged in these 10 years.

I can see the bafflement in them.

And recognize the way his mind is working - a million miles per hour.

‘’Alright so we don’t have much time.’’ I find my voice clearing it by coughing a few times, simultaneously beginning to wrestle with the tie I’ve put on and the white shirt underneath ‘’The Ministry’s lookout is bound to meet us at one point. It’s routine for them to fly around to check any unwanted visitations near Azkaban…’’ I ramble undoing the clothing I’ve put on realizing how hot I’ve gotten as I strip down to my own simple shirt and blazer, along with pants and shoes that have already fallen off my feet.

‘’...so, let's get you into something more comfortable for the time being. And less obvious.’’

I begin to pick up the clothing placing it next to him, for him to wear as intended ‘’Gods, we should've been off already.’’ I grumble standing up, pushing open the seat grabbing my boots, along with another wand.

Turning forward I meet his eyes again offering the wand ‘’It's not yours I’m sorry I couldn’t retrieve it. But it's the next best thing until we can find you a new one.’’

But unlike how I imagined it, he doesn’t react. Still silent, a bit frighteningly so he stares at it mouth remaining shut eyes coming back to meet mine.

‘’Okay then amm…’’ I stumble dropping onto the seat ‘’No rush there, Sebastian. I’ll take care of you don’t worry.’’

With my boots on, I automatically reach forward but stop myself quickly realizing the boldness of my action, watching him scared for a second that he’s going to freak out. He doesn’t. He remains motionless staring at me unbreaking eye contact.

‘’I’m sorry I’m rushing you into this. I really am sorry. But I need you to change, okay? I didn’t break you out of prison to see you sent back. Can you please dress??? Do you need help?’’

He shakes his head at that and lifts his hands wordlessly ‘’Oh fuck, I’m so stupid I’m so sorry.’’ I rush reaching for my wand the concealing charm falling away revealing my wand properly ‘’Alohomora.’’

And just like that the chains fall from his wrist, his hands defined and a bit scarred.

‘’I’ll go outside okay, give you a moment.’’ Receiving back the faintest of nods and a completely unreadable Sebastian, I open the carriage door, the wind slamming into me but unmoving me as I make quick work of climbing onto the empty seat, another illusion charm breaking to reveal no one driving the carriage. Sparks of blue like magic visibly to my eyes only.

Checking the surroundings luckily clouds are beginning to gather, a storm brewing the smell of it thick in the air. Turning back seeing nothing but ocean underneath us I let myself smile a little, as I pick up on thunder grumbling.

A knock to the ceiling of the wood brings me back to reality, setting me back into motion of sliding back into the carriage. Instead of entering I rest one foot on the second step, holding onto the railing atop of the carriage hanging from it practically as I peek inside taking Sebastian in.

The clothes are lost as was his prison uniform but makes him look less, wild in a sense. His eyes hold more intensity to them.

‘’Okay.’’ I begin noticing he hasn’t reached for the wand I let for him picking it up ‘’You’ve got no reason to but, will you trust me?’’ I ask his eyes going to the wand then back to me ‘’Trust me Seb??’’ I try, sliding the wand into the sleeve of my blouse where I have my own wand holster.

After two heart beats Sebastian nods, to which I mimic him turning sideways.

‘’Alright. It’s just you and me.’’ I repeat the words automatically, this having become a mantra the past 10 years before I did anything foolish and dangerous. Scooting to the doors preventing them from closing I reach back with my hand offering it to him.

‘’Place your foot behind mine and hold onto me, okay?? Really tight!’’

Focusing on what I must do next, I don’t pay him mind. I don’t even know if he hesitates or not. Not even the way he slides his hand in mine. I only know for sure when I feel his hand, I grab onto him firmly switching to holding one hand with my right, left keeping us upright as he presses himself behind me. He’s a lot taller than I remember beard scratching the back of my head.

‘’Okay.’’ I say to myself more so, grasp on the bar of the carriage beginning to morph as I feel what I can describe is a pleasant heat of my magic coming to life, the support of the carriage disappearing as if a balloon was popped.

And just like that we are falling.

For a few moments that is. Sebastian’s hold tightens impossibly so crushing me onto him. And as ridiculous as it is, bizarre in the midst of the chaos, of the fear, anxiety, happiness, everything bubbling in me I can feel butterflies.

Upkeep his trust, and proceeding with the plan like I’ve said the carriage disappears. What’s left is my modified broom, which was the rod I was holding onto. Bending my knees, I twist it in front of me and slide it beneath us both.

It’s a move I’ve been practicing since my first flying days back at Hogwarts, the thought of falling of a broom instilling a weird fear into me. So, this move has been years in the making.

Successfully I slide it both underneath us, catching onto the foot holders I’ve readjusted to the front. It does pull us roughly forward and Sebastian lands on it to the side. But I’m prepared. I’ve literally obsessed over every possibility of this.

With a nudge forward and hold my iron grip on him, his hand intertwined in mine I pull him flat against me, twisting the broom to right our positions.

On a normal day the manoeuvre would call for a loud cheer, the accomplishment unseen by wizard kind. But not today. It’s not an occurrence in anyone’s lifetime to break people from Azkaban. And yet here we are.

So, upkeep focus is the priority. Flying Sebastian to safety is the next agenda of business. And with the cover of clouds and budding lightning, that’s the easiest part of today.

***

‘’Well…’’ I pause taking half a step back to observe my handiwork trying my hardest not to make any faces, as I continue running my fingers through his hair, the newly chopped strands sticking in all kinds of directions ‘’...given my limited experience in sheering a sheep once, I’d say it looks rather good.’’ I praise myself satisfied with Sebastian’s now short hairstyle.

Trying to remain positive I stand in front of him, his eyes unmovable from me not once fleeting elsewhere ‘’Hm.’’ I mumble and place my hands on my hips meeting his pretty brown eyes ‘’Feels better huh?’’

He doesn’t reply. He hasn’t spoken a word since the carriage. No scratch that since his cell. I’m not sure exactly what to think of it reminding myself over and over again to keep calm and give him time and space. Which reminds me.

‘’Ah yeah, the bath.’’ I point out the tub that I’ve filled almost to the brim with lukewarm sinking the tips of my fingers in it to test it out ‘’Alright. I’ve got many shampoos, over there…’’ He merely glances to where I point to the small stool, I’ve placed next to the tub ‘’...I remember you liking more woody scents, but I didn’t know exactly the brand you liked, so I bought a bunch for you to try.’’ I smile as I step over to him sitting in the middle of my bathroom, covered with an old towel as I’ve cut his hair leaving the beard up to him.

‘’There are fresh clothes for you, the one’s I gave you were for show and more of a universal size. We’ll get more to fit you better and to your liking when you’re ready.’’ I pass him over to the sink, letting go of the scissors on the porcelain surface, my own products neatly stacked to my liking on the free space of the shelving unit I built one day.

‘’And yeah.’’ reaching for my wand I wave it at the tub, speaking the incantation in my mind watching as the water begins to bubble and steam, trying not to let Sebastian’s deep gaze unhinge me ‘’That’s about that.’’ I smile wider backing towards the door ‘’Take as much of time as you like. I’ll go prepare us some food in the meantime. If you need anything I’m right behind the doors.’’

With that I’m grasping the doorhandle opening it but find myself hesitant with taking a step onwards turning back to the still mute Sebastian that doesn’t move a muscle. It’s as if he’s trying to tell me something while I’m stuck on a level of not being able to understand him. With a softer smile, I step outside with a heavy heart closing the door gently making my way into the kitchen from my bedroom.

My cottage is on the smaller side only having the basics, the addition of a study heaven sent. I send a glance around the spacious room that is the kitchen, entrance, dining room and living room all combined.

It’s a cozy little place to live in, with no noisy neighbours, or busy streets my location being on the edge of the village ensuring peace and quiet.

But tonight, for the first time since moving here the silence is deafening. Knowing who is on the other side of the wall. My body begins moving on autopilot peeling potatoes by hand instead of using magic, my mind keeps racing. It’s hard not to think of more scenarios, more what-ifs. Honestly its quite bloody hard trying not to spiral. Guilt always finds a way to interfere.

Before I know it, I’ve prepared the veggies and precut chicken setting it into the oven it firing up normally. It only comes after the tiredness from my actions as I slump into the chair at the head of the table facing the kitchen, so I’ll be able to see Sebastian emerge from my dimly lit room.

It feels unreal. Reality not sinking just yet - he is here. He is free. I’ve freed him.

The commitment of a crime - breaking a prisoner out of prison - still doesn’t sound bad in my ears. Logically its illegal yes, but I feel that I did the right thing. Because I did. I know I did. I’m just regretful it took me 10 fucking years to do so. Laws cannot help you even when proven right and wrong. Alliances are fickle matters. Money can’t buy you everything.

Shadows moving in the corner of my eye have me tense up, left hand shifting towards the movement, my wand forgotten on the clean kitchen counter. I keep forgetting it in places, wandless magic having gotten easier with training and life experiences. I somewhat relax at the sight of Sebastian emerging from the other room.

He leaves me stunned. With damp hair slicked back, and a clean-shaven face I’m able to see the progress of time on him. It’s not much which is why it strikes me all that more at how all the same he looks. He is on the skinnier side, eyes cheeks sunken, the boyish look gone and replaced by the serious and still wordless man that cautiously walks into the light, eyes fleeting towards the oven - or my wand - then back to me.

The clothes I’ve gotten him hang loose but not too much. They look a little short. He’s taller than I anticipated. But clothing is an easy fix. So is hair.

Despite the sullenness he’s still Sebastian. It's hard to explain it, but I see that spark in him even in the emotionlessness he’s portraying. Makes my heart ache so much more.

‘’You’ve made yourself a cozy home.’’ are the first words that he speaks. His voice is gruff giving a hint of not being used as the tone is low and raspy.

I glance around memories of frantic deep cleaning marathons I’ve spiralled into before setting out on getting him free, going through my mind as I shrug turning back ‘’Ehhh. A recent purchase.’’ I glance around again trying not to look at the trinkets I’ve picked up from adventures and work-related tasks.

At his silence but inquiring eyes I continue ‘’The quiet has its advantages. Or maybe it’s the old age in me, craving some alone time.’’

At this his eyebrows raise as he looks around again, observing the furniture, decor, pictures ‘’No significant other to keep company??’’

I want to snort at the obvious question: his train of thoughts is very similar to the old Sebastian I knew. I shake my head rolling my shoulders back as I lean against the chair, relaxing my feet and body getting comfortable ‘’Wasn’t on my list of priorities to be honest.’’ I scrunch up my nose watching as he walks over to the table, still putting distance between us.

‘’Hmmm.’’ he hums in thought eyes looking over my ringless fingers as if to confirm it ‘’You were always too brilliant for mere mortals.’’ he jokes my smile easily rising at the jab as I chuckle my heart fluttering at the soft smile that he graces me with.

‘’Ah it’s not even about that, and you know it.’’ I reply bringing my hands on the table together starting to fidget as I timidly look at him ‘’Did you…’’ I pause adrenaline and confidence having truly left me ‘’Did you by any chance get any mail?’’

He remains silent eyes breaking away as they look around the room more, the shift from one foot to another prompting him into walking slowly over, hands that previously rested on top of a chair, moving along touching the wood as he comes closer.

‘’You wrote me?’’ he counters with a question, face not giving anything away even if he looks relaxed.

‘’I did.’’ I say calmly ignoring the rise of my heartbeat as he pulls the chair out on my left and with caution sits himself down, body turned towards me.

‘’Sadly, I wasn’t granted those kinds of privileges.’’

Defeated at that, the comfort of Sebastian hearing from me all these years is slightly defeating as I’ve hoped my words would bring some form of comfort. When my owl kept returning with no letters, I’d assumed that he got them.

‘’I tried.’’ I begin licking over my lower lip ‘’I wrote to you.’’ I pause again looking at my hands not able to meet his serious face ‘’I tried opening an investigation for your case.’’ I send a glance to my right the cabinet containing all the documents I’ve gathered during the 10 years to free him. ‘’Even with the right connections I – I’ve had to resort to other measures.’’ I frown raising my right hand reciting the right levitation charm watching as a thin brown folder levitates into the air and makes its way over into my hand.

I finally turn to Sebastian trying not to backtrack at the intense look he’s giving me. The emotionlessness has me on edge, but even more so it’s his stillness. I know him as being animated always full of life and mischief too, his cunning knowing no bounds. Its why I was always drawn to him, so easily agreeing to stupid plans.

‘’You’ve heard us talk. I think you’ve picked up on what transpired.’’ I turn the file over and slide it to him, his eyes unmoving from me as silence stretches between us.

And the more it goes on the more I feel like a little girl again. Uncomfortable, lost, anxious but the feelings I hate the most are insecurity and helplessness. With a look he’s drawing that out of me. Lucky or unlucky my employment has provided me with years of practice, and a ton of experience to leave nothing out as I hold myself composed, straightening up even sitting proper in anticipation for an attack. I don’t exactly know how else to hold myself by, the work of an Unspeakable wrapped in mystery for sure, but also layers of let’s call it character development that had shaped me into the person I am today.

Yet with the reminder of the last few years the trails tribulations, the triumphs, falls, accomplishments, deaths I’m being brought to a dangerous level of crumbling. Under those watchful brown eyes, empty but overwhelming at the same time.

‘’Last time I saw you, heard you – your cries were quite remorseful.’’ He taps his fingers against the table quirking an eyebrow. The memory burns freshly in my mind, aurors taking Sebastian away, Ominis holding me back with surprising strength as I protested and pleaded, begging for them to stop my cries falling on deaf ears.

‘’I think any 15-year-old would react like that when she saw the love of her life being taken away like that.’’ the truth pours out easily the quirk of his brow signalling I’ve caught him of guard.

‘’That’s quite the statement, Mc.’’ He observes, his posture giving hints of something akin to curiosity.

‘’It happens to be truthful.’’ I lower my chin a little still maintaining eye contact.

‘’Even after all that happened. After all I’ve done? After I’ve taught you the dark arts. Got you almost killed?’’ the words pour out of him the collectedness cracking.

‘’They say love is blind.’’ I smile at my own statement relaxing back into the chair.

‘’Mc.’’ He speaks my name seriously leaning forward for the first-time showing anger and frustration shifting in his seat ‘’I’ve manipulated you into doing my biding. Played on your nice heart, taken advantage thoroughly. I didn’t even think about consequences. You’re not daft. You’re aware of all of this.’’

I simply nod at his words smile still present ‘’I didn’t care about your feelings or wellbeing.’’ He adds on my shrug seemingly rising more out of him ‘’I would’ve done anything and everything to find a cure. Anything.’’

At this I tilt my head watching him. I’ve imagined him going of like this in my mind many times. My own imagination a lot more hurtful than the real thing truthfully. Even if his words are baneful, I find myself being okay.

‘’You never lied very well to me.’’ I find myself stating his lack of anything prompting me to go on ‘’I could always read you. I knew you better than you did yourself.’’ I hum after that Sebastian shaking his head.

‘’And here I thought I’ve been freed from the looney bin.’’

At that statement my smile disappears my fingers tapping on the table to rein him in ‘’No need for that, Seb. We both know what anger makes you do, your regretful-ness always leading you to grovelling.’’ I spit back. His jaw clenches, fingers curling into fists stance tense.

‘’I think between the two of us you’re the fool in this equation. You used to tease anyone to never underestimate me, and yet here you are.’’ I pause reaching for the pocket of my pants ‘’You know I’m not the one who put you behind bars.’’ Confidently I go on ‘’Somehow even with little privileges you’re a Slytherin after all. Its why you didn’t protest or react when the Polyjuice potion wore off in the carriage.’’

His breathing is becoming deeper, chest raising and falling noticeably ‘’You knew something was up. You’re not one to throw in the towel. Even after – after the circumstances.’’ I pause not wanting to mention Azkaban directly ‘’I have it on good authority that you’ve gotten some of my letters.’’ His breathing hitches my smile rising ‘’Like I said you can’t trick me Sallow. We’ve had it worse in our 5th year in some regards.’’

I get completely serious waiting for him to protest, waiting for him to raise an uproar as I’m sure he’s easily recollecting the events in our Hogwarts days. The thought of us being kids and definitely the definition of luck as the dangers we’ve faced would leave anyone else traumatized or dead.

I’ve been in the presence of dementors before, the ministry having random outbreaks, some of my missions having sent me to meet even worse creatures than them. Sebastian might have been alone for these past years dealing with happiness and joy being sucked out of him – for a fact I know especially now that he’s going to be okay. He has changed yes, grown as I did, but he has also managed to adapt to his surroundings. He didn’t let them take him entirely apart.

‘’Even with this…’’ I rest my hand on the table, knuckles against the wood opening my palm up we both watch as a fire like shape raises, the tingle of my ancient magic humming comforting to be brought to the surface ‘’…with what life has thrown at me…’’ I shake my head the magic rising ‘’…I’m…’’ the words die on my tongue.

Magic retracts itself disappearing into thin air leaving behind a warm feeling my offer to the once more stoic brunette a sad smile as I pull my hand back but place the small box from my pocket on the table ‘’You’re not alone.’’

My voice is strained as the oven begins to beep annoying loud providing the opportunity to look away and blink tears into nonexistence as I will myself to calm down, waving my hand in the familiar and automatic pattern as I watch the over, turn off its doors opening. The dish floats without a hitch onto the stove, the oven doors closing.

Glancing over at Sebastian his gaze is stuck on the unopened box and file. I sigh deeply steadying myself as I reach over and flicker the velvety box open revealing a simple silver ring pushing it to him. I tap the table twice, the indication for him to open the document. Which he slowly does reach for, opening it as if it’s going to attack him at any moment.

Placing both of my hands back on the table, I summon the wand I’ve gotten for him his declination of it before still a mystery to me. Catching the unfamiliarly weighted wand, I gently place it on the table right in the middle between us, the offering going unsaid.

Retreating my hands I reach for the other pocket of my pants, pulling out and putting on my own wedding band which is a fairly recent accessory I’ve started wearing.

Looking over at the silent man, his eyes are taking the paper in rapidly. Reading. Re-reading. Re-checking. The certificates. The ring. The wand.

‘’Nothing is set in stone.’’ I softly begin Sebastian still unmoving ‘’Except for the death certificate. That was tricky to arrange, more so than the wedding document. Oh, Merlin that was ridiculously easy.’’ Once more I shake my head letting out an empty laugh, surprised but not showing it as he has picked up the wedding ring his silence stretching for longer than I’m used to from him.

It slides me right back towards the edge, anxiety picking, the knot in my stomach twisting to a painful degree.

‘’L/N?’’

I nod immediately as his eyes meet my own ‘’I think my surname is rather nice.’’ I blur out ‘’No that Sallow isn’t but, it kind of defeats the whole ‘you’re publicly dead’ purpose.’’ I rant his face not changing ‘’I’m sure the daily prophet will mention your passing tomorrow.’’ I glance to the left at the clock ticking away, signalling its way later than it feels. It still feels surreal to have Sebastian in front of me.

He opens his mouth but closes it just as fast something bothering him, twisting his pretty face into a frown. It would be weird if he wasn’t bothered.

‘’Like I’ve said nothing is set into stone.’’ I raise my hands in surrender, Sebastian’s attention on the wand now. He’s watching it and not picking it up.

‘’I’ve used you.’’ His statement catches me of guard as anger sparks ‘’Need I repeat all the misdeed’s all the faults I’ve made you dealt with? I saw how scared you were of the ancient magic, I saw how it drained you and still I’ve pushed and pushed you, into exhaustion and numerous shaves with death without a pause. Heck, in the scriptorium after casting Curcio I left you behind in favour of exploring. Mc. Why?’’ he deadpans ‘’Anne my own twin sister sent me to Azkaban. Ominis my best friend didn’t hesitate to betray me. You…this is madness. You are mad.’’

He stares at me incredulous clearly having run these questions through his mind before. He rehearsed these words. Before me doesn’t sit a ‘notorious prisoner, a criminal from Azkaban’ anymore. Before me is sitting the Sebastian I know and love. With the same scared expression, same sort of desperation eyes pleading for things to make sense.

Hence why getting up is so much easier body moving on its own the scared boy I was infatuated with having the same effect on me, pulling me in towards the wildfire that he is. He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t particularly react in any way as I step around the table and in front of him rising my hands.

Meeting his eyes my palms land on his cheeks. Gentle to touch thanks to the shower and shave they feel familiar in my palms and yet different. His body tense from emotions and racing mind going gradually into a relax state as he hunches forward, eyes blinking away tears.

I crowd into his personal space Sebastian making room by spreading his legs, welcoming as I brush my fingers into his messy hair, the motion making me feel 10 years younger as I’ve used to do this on the regular whenever we were alone together.

My heart all but leaps from my chest as his hands find themselves above my hips in a respectful place sliding over my back drawing me into a hug which I happily succumb to, holding him close to me only slightly self-conscious if he can hear how my heart speeds for him.

Otherwise, the surrealness returns, the overwhelming joy of finally putting my plans into motion of them being fruitful hit me. Closing my eyes I attempt at holding back tears, but it’s an impossible task with the way he’s holding onto me, guiding me as if I’m made of glass to sit in his lap rearranging us and yet not parting a millimetre away from one another, as he buries his face into my shoulder and stills, big hands splayed over my back as if I’m the one who’s going to disappear.

To be honest my hands are doing the same, grasping his clothes rougher than needed the reassurance not quenched entirely. So, I let the tears flow I’m sure dampening his shirt in the process, alerting him of my state only after a while since he makes the first move, calloused hands this time cupping my own cheeks, thumbs attempting to wipe away tears.

‘’I’ve not seen you cry ever dearest Mc, and I’m the one who makes you cry so easily??’’ a spark of mischief fizzles in the end his hesitant smile words causing me to huff an awkward laugh, as I look up towards the ceiling trying to will away the tears.

‘’It’s merely a side effect of a heartfelt reunion.’’ I let out some air looking back at him feeling hope creep into my heart which is unnerving ‘’Long distance and all.’’ My voice cuts off in the end the humour not at all humorous.

He hums in response I think feeling the same sentiments as I am, preoccupying himself with getting acquainted with me again. I know I’ve changed, its only logical. We are not kids anymore. I let him indulge as one hand continuously caresses up and down my back, the other touching my lose hair, temple, nose, cheek and so forth meanwhile I do the same taking my own selfish time in admiring him so up close, blissfully ignoring reality the bubble we’ve fallen into, serenity. A slice of Eden dare I say.

Its once his hand parts from my face and find my left hand, that he speaks again ‘’This is not how I’ve imagined my marriage would start.’’ He begins softly voice still containing raspiness to it, fingers tracing and rotating the wedding ring on my finger ‘’Rather unorthodox.’’ He muses in the end blessing me with a genuine smile.

‘’It’s quite fitting for your brand.’’ We both grin and my tease ‘’And like you’ve mentioned before. I’m not meant for mere mortals. Let alone being one for tradition or normalcy.’’ I let my ancient magic sparkle watching as he stares in wonder at our joined hands the blue like flame illuminating his face into a pretty blue colour.

‘’And yet you’re bestowing the sacred privilege of not only honouring me with your last name but taking me rather shamelessly as your husband?’’ he looks incredulous the more he speaks sort of holding his breath in a sense to see if I’m suddenly going to change my mind ‘’A dead man, a criminal. Prisoner. A murderer.’’

His handsome features twist into a frown showing disgust and what he’s thinking about himself I’m sure holding more vile words back. Unphased and already having expected this I keep calm, and with my right free hand reach for his occupied hand retaking the wedding ring I’ve picked for him twisting it between my fingers a trick I’ve learned from a muggle magician, slight of hands handy even in the wizarding world.

‘’To me you are just Sebastian.’’ I admit smiling watching his eyes glossing over lower lip trembling briefly ‘’I’ve obviously made my choice haven’t I. I’m giving you a choice of your own. You can accept it or refuse it, regardless of my actions and feelings because this is about you and your life from this point onwards.’’

The pause is heavy in the air, the coldness from the dementors making a fleeting appearance as I’m reminded of where he is coming from after all. He’s not the Sebastian I know not entirely, even if I am drawing him out slowly. Hence my fears are justifiable.

‘’You’ve taken one life, Seb.’’ I whisper lowering my hand searching his eyes ‘’In self-defence.’’ I pause again gulping down the knot in my throat ‘’You’ve no clue what I’ve done since you’ve been gone.’’ I give him a sad smile, looking between us at the way he’s holding my hand ‘’You have not paused to think that I might be dragging you back onto the wrong path. That I’m not who I appear to be. That I might be the bad guy here.’’

His relaxed body tenses the more I talk, expression once more dropping all emotions as he hardens eyebrows furrowing as intensity sparks behind his eyes ‘’You could never be.’’ He’s quick to hiss, gentle hands tightening the shake of his head warming me.

‘’Oh, but I am.’’ I drop both my hands in my lap, his own not leaving me for a moment ‘’I’ve earned many names in the years of my employment at the ministry.’’ He gets taken aback by that my smile lighter ‘’Professor Hecat had an eye for detecting certain potentials in students. Even the ones with good intentions.’’

I wait for him to figure out, to make the connection which he does brilliantly fast ‘’Mc…’’ he speaks my name sweetly to which I shake my head.

‘’I hold no grudges or ill against you Sebastian. I never had.’’ I straighten his hold unmoving ‘’I had this feeling ever since our youth that we were always meant to be.’’ His eyes widen ‘’It may be delusion from my part, but I do not regret the things I did with you, or the things I had to do to get you out.’’ Its frighteningly easy to slip into the serious persona I tend to wear as an Unspeakable. I hate that I’m doing it to him, switching up emotions not really comforting him as I should be.

But he needs to know the truth.

‘’You’ve always been on my m…’’

Unable to finish the sentence I’m startled into silence as his lips meet my own. Of course, it’s a rather surprising move I think for the both of us, as he doesn’t entirely commit to it his slightly chapped lips moving shily. He retreats as quicky as he came, eyes panicked as they search my own.

He meant the kiss I know that much. Its written all over his panic-stricken features and eyes. This is where the prison has left a mark on him, turning the flirtations and overconfident Slytherin to an insecure man holding me firmly and yet blushing at a mere peck that he so clumsily delivered.

Breaking the poor man’s torture, I end up closing the distance initiating the kiss gently, timid lips still unsure as they follow my own, a tremble to them prompting me to wrap my arms around his shoulders to hold him closer in reassurance. Or it might be my own insecurity still gnawing at my subconsciousness. Emotions are a tricky business.

For the moment being, the sweet slow drag of our lips is enough to keep me grounded. To appreciate the sacrifices made, the overthinking and panicking at times, the survival methods the both of us had to resort to. It matters not in the end as long as we are back in each other’s arms. And if that makes me bad, morally grey as the whispers in the ministry are floating around – I’ll be the villain. Gladly. As long as I get to see Sebastian. As long as he’s alright. Dare I hope for him to be happy finally.

Slowly parting he follow suit chasing me for a fracture of a moment. The small action has me smiling as I lean my forehead against his, running one hand through his hair trying to hold back, and calm my breathing and the beating of my heart.

‘’I’ve missed you.’’ my voice comes out unfiltered ‘’I’ve missed you so much, it ached.’’ I grasp his hand with my other one placing it over my heart ‘’Hurt. It hurt so bad, Seb.’’ Blasted tears make an appearance as I give space to look at him his own expression crushing as he looks so sorry and dejected.

‘’Oh darling…’’ he whines gulping, thoughts I’m sure all over ‘’Just you and me yeah??’’ he whispers upkeeping eye contact ‘’Remember? I made a promise.’’

I close my eyes at the memory. The memory holds joy as it does tragedy. The stupid fool that he was, he followed me one night when I stumbled upon a camp of poachers. The hero he wanted to act just got in the middle of things. It took one second of distraction from my part, one bloody second that he got struck with a nasty hex that left him instantly bleeding and unresponsive.

That brough a whole another aspect to my ancient magic as a thunderstorm raged for the rest of the night. He narrowly escaped death only thanks to me finding the by then deceased wizard’s wand, breaking it to relive him of pains, and a good 2 Wiggenweld Potion’s to get him semi-conscious.

Having had to reveal the room of requirements and thankfully learning enough healing charms to ‘mend’ him together his promise befell through a fervour he had. But his smile was bright, genuine a bit aloof. He meant every word he said.

And right now, he’s being deadly serious waiting for my response.

‘’Even after all this time?’’ my voice comes out unsure, Sebastian immediately nodding bringing our joined hands upwards to which he presses a kiss to the top of my knuckles.

‘’I could ask you the same thing.’’ He smiles with ease drawing out a blush to flush over my cheeks ‘’You’ve waited all these years, haven’t you?’’ he hums as I nod not trusting my voice ‘’Found impossible ways to keep giving me hope. To keep me alive. Sane.’’ I can merely stare at him, ignoring my own trembling lips letting myself enjoy his touches and proximity ‘’Only you. It has always been only you.’’

Unlike the younger version of Sebastian who had shown his fire-y passion usually through kisses and rather daring touches now and then, this Sebastian still handling me like glass pulls me into his embrace, resting his head onto my shoulder hiding his face in my hair and momentarily from the world.

So, I follow suit, running one hand over his back caressing, the other finding its way into his curls the feeling of them, having imagined it to many times to count, currently a blissful affair.

‘’Let me see that ring.’’ He speaks up as I’ve seemingly lost my own voice, doing as he wishes parting only slightly to watch him accept the ring I’ve been holding onto this entire time, doubts nasty little critters as I like to not so affectionally call these emotions, piling and adding weight.

With a held breath, he examines the silver ring turning and twisting it around looking at it from all the angles, his lips painted with a faint lopsided smirk of amusement and mischief. He looks up at me the side of his eyes crinkling a bit.

‘’No flashy jewellery.’’ He quirks an eyebrow, cupping my ring bearing hand raising it to which his gaze falls into my own ring which he gently rolls around my fingers ‘’Always the one for practicality.’’ He chuckles retreating his hand to put his wedding band onto his finger. Only when it slides fitting onto his digit perfectly do I release the breath I’ve been holding.

‘’It’s not even about practicality.’’ I pout watching as he flexes his fingers, rotating his hand as if testing the feel of the band his definitely mischievous eyes landing on my own ‘’I’m not one for rocks it’s all.’’ I shrug attempting to cross my arms waiting for the onslaught of his teases giving in immediately as his hand intercepts both of my own.

‘’Just sturdy, powerful and extremely rare metals then?’’ again with the quirking of his eyebrow his comment reminding me how brilliant he still is. It didn’t take him long at all to figure out that our wedding bands, silver in colour have been made from like he said extremely, nearly extinct pieces of metal that took quite the ventures to get to them.

Not only have they meaning in the eyes of everyone as being symbols of our love and devotion to one another, but they provide us with certain magical enhancements.

‘’Not meant for mere mortals.’’ Once more I throw at his face wanting him to understand how much he means to me, his playfulness lowering a notch as he looks at me with affection. With more confidence in his actions, he leans in capturing my lips with his, the kiss syrupy as he takes his time as if to explore my mouth anew, hands finding themselves over my thigs where he grips onto my flesh and pulls me even closer.

I sigh into the kiss letting him take the lead, not minding his touches that grow bolder kiss paired with teeth and tongue reminding me of his teenage self actually who wasn’t afraid of trying out new things.

What has my brows furrowing is the thrust of his hips coming at random the full feel of his manhood clicking in my brain I shift in his lap in such a manner that has me wrapping my legs around his hips, the back of the chair providing an annoying blockade preventing me from wrapping around him.

As if he reads my mind – making me briefly wonder if he has become a legitimus – his hands slip underneath me his touch daring as its on my bottom. With a bite to my lower lip, he lets out a shuddering breath shifting getting up all the while holding me against him. The damned chair falls over causing a racket in the quiet house but leaves him and myself unbothered as his lips find their way under my jaw teeth grazing against my jugular the action arousing in some odd way.

‘’Oh Seb…’’ I groan as he presses a wet kiss to a ticklish area, his swaying prompting me to open my eyes, seeing the sunrise outside the window.

‘’You sound so beautiful.’’ He groans continuing with his ministrations ‘’And I’ve merely begun.’’ Cheeky is what he is, hands grasping my backside squeezing even.

‘’Oh.’’ I squeak ending up giggling at my own response, Sebastian ending up laughing with me, momentarily stopping his ministrations ‘’Ah Merlin. You’re still obnoxious.’’

On purpose I’m sure he delivers a slightly stinging bite ‘’Ouch Sebastian!’’ I try to scold him, his lull into a step side-tracking my thoughts as I cling onto him.

‘’And you are still, sensitive dear wife.’’ he smirks as I look down at him, his grin almost the same one that promises nothing but trouble. But his use of title, has a blush hitting me all over, heat practically washing over me. I see how my reaction pleases him, as he continues walking carefully. A hint of my old Sebastian is showing through the sparkles in his pretty eyes.

‘’I’m not sensitive.’’ I pout trying to keep calm and my head clear ‘’You always imagined that.’’

He chuckles as we walk past the doorway, the sun outside casting gentle rays onto the floor. It’s quite the miracle for it has been raining for months, and today out of all days it’s miraculously sunny.

‘’Ah. Sure yes. As your dutiful husband I shall agree on that and apologize darling.’’ He exaggerates making me muse as he stops and hovers over the bed.

‘’Now you are exaggerating Sebastian.’’

‘’Happy wife…’’ I put my hand over his mouth to stop him from finishing the sentence, as I giggle looking at him in astonishment.

‘’Don’t you even dare.’’ I warn letting go of his mouth in favour of grabbing him by his shoulders as he dips down ‘’Seb…’’ I gasp in fright as it begins okay, him bending forward but it ends up in me falling on the bed and him crashing into me leaving me winded from surprise but not the impact.

He burst into laughter whilst I do the same, covering my face for a moment looking at the ceiling above me, Sebastian shaking in my arm from laughter hanging half off the bed.

‘’That was rather…accurate for the two of us.’’ I mumble running my hands up and down his back as he begins to calm down, the corner of his eyes crinkling slightly whole expression lifted and joyful.

‘’Excuse me then dear wife. This was not in my plans.’’ He giggles still greatly amused, only now readjusting himself off me, and manoeuvring the both of us onto the bed sideways still as he doesn’t put any distance between us.

‘’I would sure hope not.’’ I smile cupping his cheeks ‘’Fear not dear husband, I am not made of porcelain.’’ I raise my eyebrows ready for his teasing. He takes a different course, in the form of closing the distance kissing me with more vigour, remaining soft in his ministrations his hand oddly in place.

I kiss him in return trying to calm down my shuddering breath as he steals it literally. Even as I cannot uphold my head upright and fall to lie down, he follows eagerly pressing pecks, kisses over my jawline cheek, cheekily kissing the tip of my nose eyes half closed as he admires for a moment and then returns to reward me with the slow drag of his lips.

I let my hands drop in the meantime, rubbing them over his clothed back. He’s still wide like he used to be, but he has lost his muscles that were built thanks to Imelda’s rigorous training for quidditch. And our adventures too. Not only did he lose his bulk, but also his strength which was proven a few moments ago. A reminder that he has gone through something traumatic.

So due to his hesitant touches, and to be honest my loss of patience I bring my hands forth, over his arms to the front, finding the buttons of the collared shirt I’ve got him to wear. Luckily, he didn’t bother with the waistcoat, so my intention gets quickly realized as I undo the garment.

He breaks the kiss due to my touched, his breath hitching as my hands come in contact with his chest, one of his hands grasping my wrist gently stopping me in my ministrations.

‘’Mc I…’’ he pauses looking between us instead at me, his cheeks, and ears flushed pink.

Wordless I understand him right now. Pulling my hands back I offer a big-closed lip smile his eyes turning to look at me in fright.

‘’It’s okay.’’ I speak softly grabbing the tucked part of my own collared shirt. He shifts in a way that allows me to pull it over my head which leaves me in my chemise, Sebastian looking something between frightened and aroused as he watches me.

‘’I understand, okay?’’ I say slowly as if I’m talking to a frightened creature grasping his hand. I bring it over to my left shoulder pushing the sleeve of my chemise lower to reveal the ugly burn that stretches over my skin ‘’We don't have to do anything. Don't force yourself. We can stop. It's okay. But know that I don't want you any less. You're still you, and I'm still me. Nothing’s changed.’’

As if weak he bends down, resting his forehead against my own. His hand still on my shoulder begins to gently caress my skin whilst I bring my own back to his chest listening watching him intently for any sign of rejection. Not showing any, I proceed to touch him with utmost gentleness tracing over his stomach, chest feeling his bones all the more. This time around I kiss him in distraction, as I push the shirt over his shoulders.

Half expecting him to freeze, I’m left pleasantly surprised as he gets up and begins to push off the material, discharging it behind us. As he sits on his knees above me chest noticeably moving as he’s breathing heavily, I’m the one who’s left admiring him.

Even covered in tiny scars, scraps and hair, he’s still my Sebastian. Even this fragile and tired looking I see the fire in his eyes.

‘’Ohh Sebastian!’’ I exclaim following with a fit of giggles as his veiny hands, which I notice only now reach for the belt of my trousers. I leave my hands to rest next to my head smiling at the manhandling that he is doing.

‘’You said you weren’t fragile.’’ He taunts licking his lower lip, as the belt comes undone and is pulled off, his hands clumsy as he tears the button of my trousers off.

‘’I am not.’’ I agree watching him delighted in how he begins to pull down the clothing along with my winter socks ‘’Are you in a rush darling?’’ I bite onto my lower lip, watching as he gets rid of his own pants, rather clumsily kicking them off ‘’My, my what a pleasant sight to be blessed with.’’ I arch an eyebrow looking him up and down.

He’s quick to climb back atop of me this time nestling his hips between my legs, delivering a kiss to my shoulder the action surprising me making me blush ‘’Hey that was my line Mc.’’ He swops down to kiss me but briefly as he rolls his hips into me leaving me lost for words and my thoughts derailed at his sudden boldness.

‘’You’ve grown daring over the years.’’ He notes breaking the kiss, returning to leave kisses over the other side of my cheek, descending down my neck ‘’Shameless?’’ he asks beginning to roll his hips against me, the lack of clothing much more revealing obviously.

It’s not that our undergarments are see through, but they are made of light materials. Which enables me to fully feel him against my core. And o my gods…

I groan at a particularly prominent thrust, which pushes me higher up Sebastian not leaving for a moment, simply continuing with whatever he has in store the deviant now proceeding to mark me above my collarbones.

‘’Fearless.’’ He speaks up pressing kisses against my scar, his lips his touches making me flinch initially. But he’s holding me down tenderly, pushing the chemise lower revealing more of my skin. Revealing more of the imperfections – scars I’ve earned in his absence.

‘’You are giving me too much praise, Sebastian.’’ I frown a little, letting my fingers dance over his chest, and to his sides, his hipbones.

‘’Not nearly enough.’’ He raises above me, looking like a man entranced re-connecting our lips together, this time letting his tongue run over my bottom lip making me hum in appreciation. Growing confident due to his actions, I wrap my legs over the back of his thighs attempting to press him harder against him, his rhythm now stuttering as I grab his arse, squeezing.

He breaks the kiss offering a mischievous smirk ‘’Diabolical. Absolutely diabolical.’’

I grin at that, showing him my tongue to further entice him. Which works perfectly. He grasps my hand like a gentleman actually, prying my hands away from his still perky ass pinning my arms to the sides of my head smirking down at me not breaking eye contact.

‘’You are the love of my life.’’ The statement has me blinking a few times as I look up at him stunned ‘’My everything.’’

Unable to respond Sebastian takes the lead, taking the approach as he did in the beginning. His hold, his closeness, his kissing all gentle and slow. It gives me the sense as if…as if he’s imprinting this into his memory. Because the more we progress, and his hips begin to rut against me harder, the more I have this feeling as if he is plagued by something.

And I understand it. Giving into him, relaxing on the bed letting him take what he desires even if that means my lips will remain bruised, and climax delayed. It’s all about him.

‘’Oh Seb…’’ I moan into his mouth, shifting my hips to accommodate him further seeing the need in the glare he offers. His freckled skin is so prettily flushed, hair messy, and skin slightly damp as the room grows hotter ‘’You feel so good against me…’’ I encourage nodding pulling my right hand away to push the lose strands from his forehead smiling as he kisses my wrist in the progress, panting softly.

‘’Missed you…’’ he says strained, moving us his hardness I’m sure throbbing as it makes a mess out of me rubbing against my clit on and off again rising tingles under my fingertips ‘’…my pretty girl.’’ I smile at the compliment, dragging the top of my nails down his chest his shudder loud as he intakes breath quickly, his left hand grabbing a hold of my thigh twisting it higher the change in position making me throwback my head, as he parts my soaked folds even through the now ruined fabric.

‘’So pretty…’’ he pants biting into his lower lip, head falling next to my own. He keeps moving, and my hand keeps progressing, finally reaching the band of his undergarment, slipping my fingers inside the dampness ‘’Oh MC!’’ he suddenly grunts, as my fingers barely touch his hot and leaking manhood.

His hand like before is quick in catching and stopping my own from progressing, as he convulses and twitches, hip stuttering regularly.

Caught off guard I merely watch him dumbfounded as something warm and wet grazes against my fingers and palm, his hold preventing me from doing anything else. So, I remain still and accommodating until he slows to a gradual stop, still twitching now and then even as he releases my hand, letting me examine the fluid.

‘’I think I’ve died.’’ He utters into my neck, his breath ticklish making me smile as I bring my hand to my lips and taste him ‘’Oh I’m definitely dead.’’ His voice dips lower.

Peeking at him he’s looking at me as if I’ve put the stars in the sky, while I click my tongue ‘’I don’t think so husband dearest.’’ I smile affectionally, pushing him lightly of me and to the side, rolling on my left to face him, fingers wiped on the comforter.

‘’This must be it. The afterlife.’’ He dramatically chats ahead rolling onto his back sighing whilst I get up following him, pushing down the chemise further revealing my torso entirely, sitting next to him. He peeks at me, eyes taking me all in blush returning immediately ‘’You fair maiden, like a siren coating me into a demise I’ll gladly plumet into.’’

I grin at his poetry dipping down to kiss him gently, his right hand warm as it settles over my lower back resting there ‘’That would make us both dead.’’ I point out musing ‘’I for one am enjoying my married life very much.’’ He perks at that.

‘’A dream come, true.’’

I remain close bend over, half resting on his chest admiring him ‘’Oh its very much so a reality.’’ I begin sighing contently tracing his face with my left and free hand ‘’You and me, together again.’’ I pause to let it sink in ‘’Never to be separated again.’’ I silently promise, certain of my words as I know I will stop at nothing to protect him ‘’You are my everything too.’’ I admit seeing how his eyes slightly widen.

‘’My whole reason of being.’’ I whisper as I lean down, staring into his pretty eyes, my gaze slipping only to his lips and back up to capture them. He moans breathlessly into the kiss which is neither slow nor speedy. I keep it simple and rather, light as I focus on pushing the chemise lower whilst I climb onto his lap, my hair falling around our faces like a curtain.

‘’My Sebastian.’’ I break the kiss, imitating him from before but taking more time almost torturously so but in the best away possible as I kiss the corner of his nose, his temple, above his relaxed brown, then begin my descend down his cheek ‘’Handsome as ever.’’ I let my tongue dart out teasingly ‘’Drawing me in with your mere presence. Enough to keep me wanting you for years.’’ I groan, as I trace the side vein in his neck, still merely kissing him feeling how his hands push away the fabric of my chemise hands resting over my hips, trembling as I put a hold under his chin, directing his head in the way I want to. And he goes along with it.

He lets out little sighs, at the contact of my lips over his skin, specially whenever I ghost over a scar. I buckle my hips against his abdomen, his body jerking automatically which raises chuckles from him his whine loud.

‘’You even sound pretty.’’ I praise happily sitting up looking down at him. Seeing him breathless already, pleading eyes staring at me hair messy heart racing. Oh, how I’ve longed for him.

‘’Dashing.’’ I drag both hands, using my blunt nails to run down his chest watching as goosebumps arise over his skin ‘’Stunning, dapper, noble. There are not enough words to describe how amazing you are.’’ I lean down to steal a kiss giggling like a schoolgirl as I pull back Sebastian following. With a hand planted onto his chest I stop him in his tracks, winking. Lowering myself over his thigh I raise an eyebrow which I’m sure makes me look menacing as I can see his Adam’s apple bob.

‘’All I say it’s true. I’ve left you speechless.’’ I tease grasping the waistband, and without a second though pull down the fabric, watching as his manhood bobs up onto his stomach, body twitching again, his legs obviously in place as I’m settled on him.

‘’N-not true.’’ He gets out rising onto his elbows, as I observe the remnants of his release. Seeing there is to be a lot more movement and manoeuvring to get him rid of his undergarment, I grab the material and with some strength put into it tear it apart, Sebastian left with his mouth parted in a small ‘o’ shape.

‘’Ah it’s all very true.’’ I continue letting the now ruined material fall of the edge of the bed as I lie myself between his legs, my own hanging of the bed. Meanwhile I let my hands run up and down his thighs, smiling up at him ‘’I was never able to lie to you. I don’t see the appeal of trying it now.’’ I cheekily say, dipping down to press a kiss onto the side of his inner thigh, the muscles tensing at my ministration.

‘’Shhh relax, my love. Relax.’’ I encourage, looking up at him. I run my nails over his other thigh, whilst starting to suck lovely marks that will bloom later for a reminder.

‘’Enchantress.’’ He grinds through his teeth ‘’A divinity.’’

Thanks to his high praise I let my tongue out, dragging it over his thigh making a show of it ending up moving up like a predator keeping my gaze as such, chin tilted downwards as I lick at his half-hard cock the twitch immediate.

‘’It’s merely me, Sebastian.’’ I say in a low tone, grasping his manhood with my right hand rising it up taking it in, the veins, the head, everything only after looking at him. He looks destroyed already, something I always dreamed of seeing ‘’Only me.’’

And with that I experimentally suck on his tip, the groan he lets out sounding like someone is strangling him whilst his body tenses hands grasping the duvet underneath us twisting it.

With some focus I pry my left hand from his thigh, taking his hand in my own his hold tense. It doesn’t deter me, as I run my tongue over the mushroom head licking the excessive precum, not enjoying the taste but enduring it gladly, seeing how he keeps trashing – and I’ve barely done anything.

Giving him some mercy thanks to the pleading look he gives me I relent, and begin to sink on his cock, flattening my tongue as I descend, closing my eyes as I concentrate on my breathing. I barely get him in my gag reflex already making my throat contract, so I help myself with my right hand, droll dripping from my lips.

Ignoring the tears in my eyes I push forward sucking once, making it my mission to please him further by sinking more.

‘’No, no, no stop, Mc please…’’ he raises up hands gentle as they cup my cheeks pulling me off him. I gasp for air, not minding the spilled tears or droll. Neither does he as he’s quick to wipe them.

‘’I’m sorry I didn’t mean…’’ I begin to panic thinking I did something wrong, and that didn’t like, even as he shakes his head his smile shaky at best, the kiss that follows not so reassuring.

‘’You did wonderful.’’ He breaks away to reassure me holding onto me firmly, readjusting his hold so he can manhandle me this time to sit back, higher over his thighs and to be level with him ‘’You’re a minx, a temptress you are. More perfect than I ever imagined I swear it.’’ He grins happily pressing a chaste kiss ‘’But I don’t want to cum so soon.’’ He looks at me in despair mixed with hope.

‘’You…wow…’’ it daunts on me his extreme reaction, as I observe his face needing to make sure he is telling me the truth ‘’Okay.’’ I find myself saying his smile winning over my heart all over again as he pulls me against him, his cock right underneath me, hot and hard.

‘’I simply cannot resist you.’’ He confesses hugging me for the moment being ‘’You are truly everything to me. You’re too good to me. I want to make you feel good too.’’ and with those words and his strategically placed hands on my chemise he rips the pants portion at first, ending up destroying it with more ease than I did pulling the material away from us.

‘’You already make me feel good.’’ I state planting my knees into the mattress, my right-hand dipping between us, and through my slit collecting the wetness which I then raise up ‘’See?’’ my tongue lowers again. I hold his chin with my left hand, offering two of my fingers. He gets the hint opening his mouth tongue peeking out to which I let him taste me ‘’Hmmm.’’ I moan lightly smirking, pulling my fingers out.

I grasp his dominant hand dipping both of our hands to my folds, the astonishment on his face one I shall remember forever, as he does a double take, his fingers departing from my own making me shudder and groan as he touches my clit.

‘’See what you do to me?’’ I begin my breathing slightly unsteady as he doesn’t pull away ‘’Feel how wet I am for you. What you do to me Sebastian.’’ I gasp as one finger prods at my entrance, entering me gradually his face one of concentration and observation.

A face I’ve seen many times before when we were studying. But never have I seen it in this context which sheds a whole new light on him. He nods at my words slowly ‘’Guess what?’’ I grin close to press my lips against his ear to be a tease, while he wiggles in a second fingers making me sigh at being finally touched ‘’This is all you. Noone else can do this to me. Only you. Always you.’’

He moans at that, ending up groaning as he pulls his fingers out, rolling us on the bed, time for laughter over as I’m once more on my back, but with him spreading my legs wide open making a place for himself between them, his manhood hot as he rubs it against my wet folds.

Bent over, one hand reaches to hold the back of my head angling me however he wants me, his lips bruising as he demands all of my attention. And it’s what he gets as I moan helpless as his cock begins to push inside me. He breaks apart as if in disbelief, gasping for air the bravado gone the more he pushes in, the stretch pleasant and exciting as I want him to hurry along.

But lost in the way he’s handling us, the way he feels, I get lost in the way he looks how intense this is for him, how taunt he goes once he bottoms out, looking at me incredulously.

‘’It’s not a dream.’’ I find myself saying grasping his head forcing him to stay grounded ‘’It is all real.’’ I grin seeing the wobble in his lower lip ‘’My husband.’’ I remind by showing him my ring, ending up dropping onto the bed, as he thrust catching me of guard.

‘’Whow.’’ I say in awe blinking up at him and then glancing down to see us connected.

‘’My wife.’’ He finally speaks ‘’Mc.’’ He says my name clearer to which I nod.

‘’Yours Seb. Only yours.’’ I reassure my body this time jerking as he pulls back and rather harshly thrust back in. It’s proof of inexperience and the fact that he is driven by need mirrors our days in school perfectly. We’d fool around, take risks, we’ve explored each other’s bodies, and have been each other firsts. But it sadly didn’t go further as he was taken prisoner soon after our night of love-making that resulted in some tears but unbroken promises.

‘’M-mine. Only mine Mc.’’ He nods vigorously repositioning his hand, one on my hip one on the bed a look of determination drawing itself across his features ‘’Mine.’’ He says like it’s a matter of fact, pulling back only to set up a rather ruthless pace. Having imagined our reunion in these kinds of circumstances as well – because I have needs to duh – I’ve not imagined him to be like he is.

To just take from the get-go in such a manner. He was always delicate when it came to the more intimate matters, even with his eagerness and firey passion. I can see both of that here, I can feel it in the way he’s changing and angling his hips differently, eyes focused solemnly on my face as I hold onto the bed for dear life, the feeling of what were merely tingles before now turned into live sparks, that are zapping through my body.

It has my toes and fingers curling, the need to curl in on myself great as my thighs begin to shake, my lower abdomen pooling with insane amount of heat. It has tears gather in my eyes once more but this time for other reasons as I feel good all over it being overwhelming.

I practically shout as something brushes my clit. It has me forcing my eyes open as I see Sebastian lick his fingers and drop it to my clitoris, his hand calloused and rough but oh my gods its perfect and exactly what I crave for. What I need.

‘’That’s it, Mc.’’ He approves a small smile forming on his lips ‘’You feel so good.’’ His jaw goes tight as he clenches his teeth, suddenly pinching my clit.

‘’Ah fuckkkk Sebastian.’’ I yelp shaking my head ‘’Harder, fuck me harder, I’m going to cum, I’m going to cum…’’ I repeat like a broken record suddenly hugging myself keeping my breast from bouncing as an electric current is running all over.

‘’And who is making you…ugh…cum huh? Who is the one…ahhh, cherishing you like you deserve…ugh to be?’’ he says through his teeth, his gaze wild as he stops for a moment twisting my left leg over his chest and shoulder changing everything entirely the new angle, making my eyes cross over one of Sebastian’s hands pushing my arms away as he grabs onto my boob, squeezing it.

‘’Y-y-you.’’ I reply shakily having a death grip on his arm not knowing what else to do. It’s hard to process that I need to breathe at the moment, my body doing things on its own.

‘’I didn’t hear you, dear wife.’’ He barks with an edge in his voice. His eyes. His demeanour.

But it’s not enough to make me realize it, as he leaves me absolutely dumb on his cock, the only thing on my mind selfishly is to cum.

‘’You, you, you, you Sebastian.’’ I speak strained my muscles contracting, as his hand resumes circling my clit sealing the deal ‘’My Sebastian, mine.’’ I babble, eyes closing tight as white noise fills my ears barely registering the noises I’m still making, only feeling how he rocks against me, how he moves so precise and hard the orgasm washing over otherworldly as it keeps going on.

Faintly I am aware of Sebastian manoeuvring me into another pose, continuing past the shakes and trembles that overrun everything else. Sooner or later something in my brain kicks it into gear to pump air into my lungs as I breathe heavily, enjoying the tingling but otherwise spent.

Feeling an arm settle over my stomach is what encourages me to come back so to speak. I raise a hand up to wipe away the corner of my eyes only then prompting them open. Looking around I acknowledge we have been turned to lie comfortably on the bed with our heads cushioned against the pillows.

Or well…mine. Glancing down feeling the heat radiating on my right it’s Sebastian. Instead of backing away like I’d assume men would do, he has plastered himself onto my right side, using my bicep as a cushion, one arm thrown over my mid-section, one leg over my right.

Dropping my arm, I’m surprised to find he is awake and has come to his senses quicker than I have as he grasps my left hand, fingers dancing with my own. It doesn’t take him long to feel the outline of the wedding ring.

‘’I didn’t even get you an engagement ring.’’ He mutters bending my hand holding it above my chest as he examines my hand and the piece of jewellery.

‘’Technically that would be on me too.’’ I think aloud my voice slightly hoarse. Must be the screaming ‘’I did propose and marry us.’’ I snort ‘’Did all the heavy lifting, didn’t I?’’

I turn to look down at him, just as he peeks up at me, fingers intertwining with my own as he rests our hands next to me for comfort.

‘’I did have a ring.’’ Is what he says, the statement leaving me bewildered which I’m not quick enough to hide as he sighs, looking away ‘’I had a few ideas for proposing. A few spots to choose from.’’ He quiets down again. Bending my right hand, I start to caress his back in reassurance.

‘’Knowing you back then, you had the most rageous ideas, didn’t you?’’ I smirk looking ahead of us at the painting I have above the dresser. It’s a muggle painting so it doesn’t move, but it depicts a castle in Scotland. A castle that’s very similar to Hogwarts. It was too charming not to buy.

‘’You’ve no idea.’’ He blows air looking up at me ‘’I think you’d flat out reject me at some of the propositions I had in mind.’’

I laugh ‘’I probably would.’’ I agree looking down to meet his gaze amused. We fall silent.

‘’I tried to tame a dragon…’’

‘’Oh, Seb noo!’’

‘’Heyyyy I was head over heels! I’d do anything! You deserve the best!’’ he rambles as I laugh in amusement observing as he raises onto his left elbow looking at me adoringly ‘’I swear.’’ He chuckles ‘’I was foolish at times and even stupid. But crazy? I was crazily in love with you. And that has not changed.’’ His smile is exactly the smile he used to have back then.

And it slowly daunts on me. Reality sinking in. That he is here to stay. I have finally freed him. He is in my grasp. He still loves me.

‘’Oh hey, no tears. Why the tears?’’ he jumps as they gather quickly and are instant to fall down my cheeks ‘’Mc.’’

Instead of answering I kiss him softly.

‘’I’m just so happy.’’ I admit smiling widely ‘’You make me incredibly happy it’s all.’’

At this he is taken aback features softening, and I’m sure his own eyes filling with tears ‘’Me too Mc. Me too.’’

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

// Masterlist 2024 //

#sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow smut #sebastian sallow x mc #hogwarts legacy sebastian #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy fandom #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy smut

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pixievi · 2 years ago

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𓆩 Stillwater Vi finger fucking a sweet, innocent prison ‘guard’ from a noble piltover family….

Squelching sounds bounced off of the dark, damp walls of the solitary section. Vi’s calloused fingers roughly fucked your dripping pussy from behind. Right through the cold bars of her cell. She had you pressed right up to them, with a tight hold around your neck. You squirmed and tried to match her devastating thrusts, chasing your high that was bubbling in your tummy. Her biceps flexed with sweat as she pounded you deliciously and you couldn’t hold back your pathetic whimpers. Which echoed right back to you.

“Aww, who would’ve thought such a pretty princess would be so fucking filthy”, Vi cooed lowly, right in your ear. As close as she could get to you. “Letting a dirty trencher fuck your pussy from a prison cell”

Her mocking made you more desperate and you felt yourself getting even more wetter around her fingers. Vi’s large, bandaged hand gripped your neck even tighter, choking you slightly. “Fuck, look at you, you’re dripping all over my bars”

She slipped in a third finger, stretching your warm walls even more. It was heavenly. Your face was contorted in a silent scream of pleasure, which forced its way out as Vi curled her fingers. Pounding your g spot as she thrusted greedily with a smirk, watching you quiver. And feeling your pussy suck her in hungrily. You were close. So close. Your thighs trembled from the pleasure, threatening to give up.

“V-Vi”, you moaned.

“What is it, Princess?”

“I’m gonna cum”, you panted, tightening your hold on the bars behind you.

“That’s filthy, needing to cum from my fingers? Dirty girl”, she growled, enjoying the way you jerked your hips at her degrading words and smooth voice. The warmth building in you snapped and you gasped, freezing in bliss as pleasure crashed over you. Vi kept thrusting through your orgasm, wanting to watch you squirm on her fingers while you were so sensitive. You trembled around her, whining. She shushed you gently as she slowed down her thrusts. Eventually slipping her fingers out of you. Which were now all sticky with your slick, and stained her bandage.

You leaned against the bars heavily catching your breath. Loud sucking sounds from behind you met your ears, and you lazily turned your head. Getting caught in Vi’s smug stare as she sucked her fingers clean of you.

╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ༺♡༻ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

tags

@emilia2357 @magicalmugeggszipper @7smexy7diva @mudikyuri @sugarcookes-milky @lightningferel @siriusly-39 @katezeta @rainfalls77 @elliesirlgf @novastargalaxydesigns @headempty03 @ccugirll @samuwhores @definitelynotcyera @byanyone @evilpotat @cassifictional @whitebear27063 @sevikas-whore @61919Ih @yourlocallesbainspiderman @murderouscherri @leftheartsheep @nana888888 @menaceghost @sevikasdarling @sincerelii @portraitdelajeunefilleenfeu @elisonfire @elliesconverses @bigboobslilheart @sleepyymonster @1storywriter @sadapricus @sevikascupcake @vicrypt1c

#vi x reader #arcane x reader #arcane women #vi arcane #vi smut #arcane smut #league of lesbians #vi x female reader #pixievi vi #pixievi drabble #pixievi ♡#arcane headcanon #smut

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ewingstan · 4 months ago

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On 12.6 of Ward and reading Victoria give cute little nicknames to all of the patrolling guards. Giving numbered names in different languages to the ones outside, calling the one's inside "Red" or "the Lumberjack," etc. Works to make the narration a lot easier to parse for the audience while still fitting into how Victoria thinks, which is a neat trick.

Mostly just noting it because its a neat trick he also pulled in Twig. Sy giving people odd nicknames that just kinda stuck as their primary moniker was a big long-running joke there. Not the first time WB pulled from Twig's bag of tricks; I remember noting during the prison arc how Victoria conceptualized the different aspects of her almost the same way Sy did. I feel like Wildbow really settled into a narrative stride while writing Twig that he slips into pretty frequently during Ward.

That might be part of the reason I so frequently forget how compressed everything is in Ward; Worm and Pact both had long sections take place over ridiculously short periods of time, but for both of those the sense of bad things continuing to pile up were very purposeful choices. Twig was much more episodic in its structure, with long stretches of time between arcs where things develop off-page in interesting ways. Ward almost feels in a weird middle ground, where it has the all-gas-no-brakes timeline of the first two serials, but the pacing of the decompressed third. Of course, that could be due in part to how much more slowly I'm going through Ward compared to Worm.

#wildbow #wardblr #mals reads ward #parahumans #mals says

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aita-blorbos · 9 months ago

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AITA for singing (OC)?

So, I was taken prisoner by some bastards. They tried to get me to tell them some things, and I of course refused. They started talking about torture, so, I figured I'd beat them to the punch. There's this song, called rattling bog, it is not necessarily the longest song, but it has other qualities that help my purpose. For instance, a long pattering section.

So I started performing psychological torture on them, notably, singing the rattling bog hitting every level from tree to quark while very off-key. After the third time I restarted, one of the guards started punching me to shut me up.

I mean, I am annoying, but, I'm the prisoner here, I feel like I'm justified in all nonviolent actions against my captors.

#aita #am i the asshole #unreality

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sugar-rush-monk · 3 months ago

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208

It was always at dawn that the first ship out to Stormvault set off from Limsa Lominsa. They ran on a tight schedule, as could be expected of a navy vessel. It would return that afternoon, then again in the evening. Each trip would bring guards returning to the city from the prison, or departing for their shift. The Maelstrom seemed to rotate soldiers on and off duty at Stormvault, the faces coming and going changing every moon.

The Sergeant among the soldiers leaving for Stormvault that morning didn't stand out to anyone else there. Most of them selected for duty were petty officers. Captains were put on a permanent posting at the prison. When she boarded the ship, nobody took mind of her.

As she passed two Privates, she heard a small sample of their conversation.

“--always wanted to get this assignment.” said the eager one.

“What?!” Replied his jaded companion. “Why the Seven Hells would you want this?”

“They say Stormvault holds some of the most notorious pirates to ever sail!” The eager Private told the other. “Want to see it for myself. It's sort of like a piece of history.

“Gobshite. Place is depressing, trust me. My third rotation, this. It's dark, damp. The screams are one thing, but it's the crying at night that's really awful.”

The Sergeant continued on until she found a less inhabited part of the deck. She turned and looked out at the water. Distantly, she could see Murktide Island, a small speck of land out on the horizon. A tower stuck out of it like a splinter. What the eager Private had not realized, was that the most notorious inmates of Stormvault did not stay there long. Soon enough they were brought before the gallows. Those who were not subject to that fate, were the ones judged to have committed less severe crimes. They would be the ones locked inside for years.

Soon after the Sergeant boarded, the ship set sail for the prison. It was not a long journey, but she stayed to herself throughout, until nearly half a bell later, when the island drew upon them. No longer a needle on the horizon, the prison towered over them. The twenty levels within held the population of prisoners behind locks and traps.

As the ship pulled into the harbor, the guards aboard began to congregate on the deck. The Sergeant stayed at the back of the group, watching the others. None had taken any notice of her, she was one of them. They didn't pay enough attention to question whether they recognized her or not.

They disembarked as a group and made their way through the docks, then up into a walled-in courtyard. The prison stood at the other side of it. At least a dozen soldiers already inhabited the courtyard when the group arrived. It was here that they began to splinter, breaking off to report to where their orders had instructed.

The Sergeant followed the biggest group into the tower. They would lead her up three levels, and eventually, into the barracks. All the while she drifted behind, enough to remain unnoticed by them. When they reached the room, the Sergeant finally stopped following. She began to walk the room, her gaze sweeping over it, searching for anything that might be useful to her. Eventually she found it, in the form of a board on the wall, which displayed dozens of itemized names. The names were divided sections, labeled as L2, L3, L4 - all the way up to L20.

The Sergeant read over the board intently for a while, until finally finding the name she was looking for. They were designated Prisoner 208, on Level 12. Committing the information to memory, the Sergeant left the barracks. Not far from there, she was lucky enough to find a lift. She boarded and ascended up the prison, until arriving at L12. She got off and chose a corridor at random to begin her search.

For a while she walked the floor, until she came upon the cells. Most were occupied. Many of the prisoners ignored her. A few yelled at her as she walked by, but the attempts to spook her failed. The cells were labeled, speeding her search up. Eventually she found the cell marked 208. The Sargeant stopped in front of the cell.

The man inside was as dirty and disheveled as the rest of the prisoners. His hair had grown long and tangled, his beard untamed and filthy. The clothes he wore had been reduced to tattered rags, and his glasses were tied together by a small scrap of cloth.

“To what do I owe the pleasure…?” He asked from within. The question was dry and bitter. “My bathroom ‘privileges’ aren't for another two bells.”

The Sergeant stood on the other side of the bars, watching him. Finally she asked, “Edric Fiske?”

Prisoner 208, Edric Fiske, surveyed the Sergeant from behind his damaged glasses. He replied to the inquiry, “You're not with the Maelstrom. Who are you?”

“... I wanted to meet you.” The Sergeant said. Her voice was gentle, soft.

“Disguising yourself as a guard and breaking into a Maelstrom prison is a long way to go to meet me.”

A smile grew on the Sergeant's face, long and toothy. There was something Edric Fiske immediately did not like about it. The Sergeant slowly reached out and wrapped her fingers around one of the cell bars.

“There's a woman who watches this place. Did you know that? Every so often, she comes out to the cliffs by Moraby Drydocks�� And watches. Sometimes for bells.”

“And this should interest me why?”

The smile on the Sergeant grew. It made Fiske uneasy. She tilted her head a bit, as though attempting to be playful, but it only added to her unsettling manner.

“Because this woman had an office, and inside that office, she had an old article from the Harbor Herald. One about you, Edric.” She pointed her finger at him through the bars with a little flourish. “When you lost everything. When they caught you and put you in here.” the Sergeant pulled back and began running a finger across the bars thoughtfully. “Now why would Mashi Olobi have that?”

Fiske's face showed only the briefest twitch of reaction when he heard the name. He retained his composure, even now, even after years in this squalor.

“I would imagine as a momento, to fondly look back on the sun she and her daughter spent quality time together.” Fiske replied sardonically.

The Sergeant clicked her tongue and shook her head slowly, all the while her eyes boring into him and that unnatural grin remaining. “No, no, no, Edric…. No, this is deeply personal, this thing between you two, isn't it?” She squinted at him and shook her head one more time. “She did this to you, didn't she? You were ruthless. Taking what you wanted, putting down any threat or obstacle in the way. You had the strength to do what others couldn't. Then she came along - and her daughter. They destroyed it all, got you locked away in here. Now she watches you, like a guard dog. Ready to rip your face off the moment you try anything.”

Fiske fell silent, but his eye contact and composure did not falter. She knew more about him than he realized. She was assembling pieces she had already had.

“What do you want?” He asked again, plain and blunt.

The Sergeant leaned in a little and said to him, hushed, “I can get you out of here, Edric. I can tell you where to find her. Where to find her children, her children's children, and everyone they care for along the way. With my help… you can punish her.”

There was a long pause between them. Somewhere deeper on Level 12, a rhythmic drip could be heard. Edric Fiske stood up slowly and crossed his cell. He stopped at the bars, inches away from the woman posing as a soldier.

His voice cold, he told her, “You have until the count of ten to get out of my sight, before I call the real guards.” After a pause, he began, “One.”

The Sergeant stepped away from the bars, but she continued to smile. Her eyes did not leave his, not yet, and he would not break first, no matter how much her gaze unnerved him.

“Two.”

She turned and swiftly set off down the corridor again. Her footsteps carried lightly, soon fading away as she fell behind a corner.

Fiske steadied his breathing and took his glasses off. He walked back to the bed, as he made a poor attempt to clean them with his dirty shirt. As he lowered back onto the mattress, he put his glasses back on.

His hand was shaking.

#final fantasy xiv #ffxiv #ffxiv oc #ffxiv rp #final fantasy xiv roleplay #ffxiv screenshots #ff14 gpose #ffxiv gpose #oc writing #ffxiv writing

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fordarkisthesuede · 1 year ago

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Fangs of Ourorboros - Chapter 1 - Ghosts of the Past

Good evening from the east coast! 🌇 I've brought you a proper chapter for you to chew on! (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

Last time:

Batman was playing a strange murder-mystery game with Joker when an explosion interrupted his investigation...

Rocky Hopper: employed part-time in Xotic Construction, living in a two-bedroom apartment in midtown with a wife and two children. His criminal record showed he was a three-time parolee by the age of thirty-six for armed robbery, assault, DUI, and theft. No known association to any Gotham-based gang. An unremarkable small-time criminal Batman previously noted for rubbing shoulders with Oswald Cobblepot during his time in Gotham two years ago, before The Penguin was taken into custody.

To anyone else, such a fact was a mere blip on the radar. But to Bruce - to Batman - it was a flashing yellow mark on the edge of his mind.

Richard Hartright. Vicki Vale. Penguin. One string leading to another on a cork board collage with a muddled picture of why.

The GCPD touted BlackGate Penitentiary as a fortress; a prime example of modern security in spite of the building’s age.

Heh. Not for Batman. The nighttime security were like any other lookout team, conversing on their radios or over their shoulders while paying mild attention to their surroundings.

It was practically a cake walk. Bruce grappled up to the roof and rolled over the railing with barely a swish of his cape. The guard by the rooftop door jabbered about the Knights’ chances in the league this year over the two-way as Bruce crept behind him and squirted all-purpose oil between the crack in the door where the hinges should be.

The door opened silently, and Bruce slipped in, breathing in the familiar smell of dusty hallways as he walked on the edges of his feet down the concrete steps.

Oswald would be in the C Block. It took no time to get down to the third floor. Even less time to find the section, painted in chunky white letters on the floor and wall as if the heavy metal door to the place was easy to miss.

The security lock was a simple hand scanner, meant to use the layout and size of the hand instead of a key or passcode. Bruce pulled out the luminous spray normally reserved for crime scenes and sprayed the scan bed. The Batsuit’s gauntlets scanned the imprint, and with a few taps on the key generator Tiffany had perfected last year, all he had to do was place his hand over the sensor and wait while for the lights to turn green.

The bolt lock slid open with a sudden thunk, and Bruce slipped into Cell Block C.

Three stories of prison cells stretched open before him, smelling like a public bathroom in the Narrows. He could see each barred door had two beds embedded into the walls, with only just enough room for two people to stand shoulder-to-shoulder, bringing to mind a twisted shoebox diorama.

One long catwalk weaved throughout the place, spotted with rust and bits of peeling paint. The rush of air as he whizzed past rows of metal bars was only slightly satisfactory when he was still wincing at the slight sound of the metal clang of the grapple teeth hitting the railing.

The cell door was easy to unlock - all the doors were connected to an online grid for routine automatic unlocking, but had a manual override to use a physical key. A simple signal jammer was all that was needed to fool the cell into thinking it lost connection to the controller and let Bruce pick the lock.

Despite the cowl, the hairs on the back of his neck were standing up. He was being watched, but he wasn’t sure by who. At the very least, he knew an alarm hadn’t been tripped; his radio tuner wasn’t picking up any calls to action inside the prison…

The lock opened with too loud of a cha-clink. Oswald stirred.

The upper bunk was empty, despite the rumpled sheets. At least Bruce wouldn’t have to worry about potentially fighting off two prisoners at once.

Bruce chose to stay away from the cot to speak; there was no need to overstep and put either of them in harm’s way yet. He kicked the cot’s mattress instead to get attention.

Oswald jerked upward with a garbled sort of shout, flinching to press his back against the wall.

The direct approach was best. “Why did you want to destroy Richard Hartright’s files?”

Oswald glared at him, shoulders sagging as he relaxed into a sitting position. “Should’ve known you’d sneak your sorry-winged ass in here to give me the business one of these days. Or did the Commissioner give you your own Bat-pass?”

“I know Rocky Hopper worked for you,” Bruce said flatly, “The bomb he was setting in Hartright’s filing cabinet went off early. He’s dead.”

Oswald’s eyebrow rose a fraction, eyes widening in a sort of surprise that he was trying and failing to suppress. “Plenty of people worked for me,” he said with practiced casualty, casting a look at the cell door and waving away the issue. “I don’t care what they do with their spare time nowadays.”

Bruce had enough. He grabbed Oswald by the collar and hoisted him up to be more on his level. “I don’t play games,” he growled out, “You worked for Vicki Vale - you knew Richard was one of her sources during her time at the Gazette. One of your affiliates blew up his office with enough C4 to kill him. Why were you after him?”

“I thought you were supposed to be the detective,” Oswald scowled.

Bruce punched him hard in the jaw, holding him up so he didn’t fall back into the wall. “What did he have that you didn’t want getting out?”

“You can’t hurt me in a way that matters,” Oswald scowled in disgust, “You think I don’t see this every day in this hellhole?”

Bruce narrowed his eyes. A clanging noise came from outside the cell.

“SHUT UP or I’m going to come over there and chew your FACE off, Penguin!” came a gravelly hiss of a voice from a nearby cell. “SOME of us are trying to SLEEP!”

“Your neighbor sounds mad,” Bruce taunted, “Tell me what I want to know and maybe I won’t wake up the whole block.”

Bruce tossed him to the floor, only too late feeling his cape pull along with the motion. His shoulder smacked into the wall as Oswald skittered out the open door.

He chased after him, boots clanging on the metal of the catwalk, priming a bat-bola to throw. Oswald barely reached the staircase when the weighted rope whipped through the air and wrapped itself around the man’s calves in the nick of time.

Oswald hit the floor with a loud, reverberating thunk. Bruce was able to grab an arm and pin it around his back as he leaned over him, out of arm’s reach.

“You bastard, you’re no different from the pigs that run this place!” Oswald spat, voice echoing around the cell block.

“Why did Richard pose a threat to you?” Batman asked again, feeling more eyes on him. He could see several prisoners had risen in their beds. One was already pressed against the bars of the cell for a better look. He pulled on the arm he was holding, just enough to hurt.

“Because he’s just like your lot,” Oswald grunted, “Sticks his nose in where it doesn’t belong. Vicki’s worth ten of him.”

Bruce’s brain buzzed, trying to parse through what information he had. The private detective’s only link to Oswald was through Vicki Vale; he had nothing to do with Penguin’s crew, before or after his arrest, that Bruce knew of. The mention of Penguin’s old leader in the present tense was jarring. “Vicki Vale’s been dead for two years.”

Penguin gave a light wheeze of a chuckle. “Killed her yourself, did you?” he taunted, “Buried her in a shallow grave with the last rites? They never did find a body in all that rubble, did they?”

Bruce had seen the rocks fall as he guided Alfred out of the underground catacomb. He’d doubled back later, on the off chance he could find her, and found the chamber practically blocked off by the collapse. There were no other tunnels, no secret rooms, no pockets she could have climbed out of. He’d checked.

But it bothered him all the same.

He could hear the inmates start to blabber and howl as he dragged Oswald ‘The Penguin’ Cobblepot back to his cell by his feet.

Body slam him next! Body slaaam!

Not so tough now, are ya Peng’? Ha ha, oh man!

Fuck you! Fuck you, you hear me, Bat? Fuck you!

Let me out - I’ll drag your ass around the block, Bat!

Come on, Penguin, get up and grab him-!

You think you’re so tough, you’re nothing without that fuckin’ armor!

He ignored it all, leaving Oz to nurse his wounds on the floor of his cell, winding the bola back up after he slammed the door behind him.

Deep down, he knew getting information out of Oz was a longshot to begin with. Any more questions would be met with more stubborn non-answers. He would have to check Oz’ mail, visitors, cell-mates, anything he could have used to send out the message to his cronies.

He leapt up and over the railing to glide back down to the first floor, feeling the eyes of awakened prisoners all around.

“Hey, Batman” a smooth, familiar voice called from his right. “You got a taste for beating up bird-dudes or what? I’d think you know he doesn’t like to talk about work.”

Bruce barely gave Roman Sionis and his cocky little smirk a second glance.

“I could tell you what he was up to,” Roman added.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Bruce ignored the cacophony of noise as he left the way he came in, the sound of the hinge on the metal door far more noticeable now that he was in a hurry to leave. “I doubt it,” Bruce muttered.

🜁

The bare facts stared out at him through black and white scans and data retrievals on the Batcomputer’s oversized screens.

Rocky Hopper communicated strictly through text messages. Simple instructions of picking up the bomb and a key from a contact he’d meet on the street, dropping it off in Detective Hartright’s office, and flicking the switch to let the countdown start. Said contact was never named, explained as being able to recognize Rocky on sight.

Oswald Cobblepot’s outgoing mail took a long time to be scanned and approved, up until a few months ago. Most likely he or someone who worked for him was paying off one of the officers in charge of the mail room. At first, the letters used an easy code of the first letter in each sentence spelling out a short command. Silence person, pick up this, sell that, mostly to one Cameron Van Cleer. As far as Bruce could tell, Cameron was one of Oz’ one-time cronies that - judging by the social media profile Bruce had gathered - had sympathies to the Children of Arkham. Oz must have entrusted them with a financial account, judging by shorthand instructions to buy and sell actual stock as well. No mention of Detective Hartright.

All of this would be easily digested, if it weren’t for the last line in the last letter to Cameron: Our fair lady will be reaching out to you.

The incoming mail told a similar story of back-and-forth mob work disguised as friendly exchanges. And then there were the others. Arriving every week or two, short and to the point, like telegrams more than anything.

I know you must be surprised to hear from me. I know I’ve been away a long time, but I’ve kept a close eye on things. I can see things haven’t changed since I left… Wayne Enterprises is still standing, to my surprise. But I can see our friends aren’t all gone. Can I still count you as a friend, even though it’s been so long? -Your fair lady

Then, two weeks later:

I’m glad we’re still friends after all this time. I have so many things I’d like to share with you! Do you remember Julian Day ? He had a whole article in the Gazette on page 4! -Your fair lady

Bruce checked the date against the Gazette’s webpage. Julian Day was noted for causing a car crash that ended in his death and the destruction of a popular corner restaurant. The coroner’s report Bruce pulled up noted no street drugs in his system. One patron said they thought they saw someone else exit from the backseat of the vehicle, but no other person was found on CCTV.

And then the last letter, dated a week ago:

We need to catch up in person. I’ve got a little place downtown above the Iceberg Lounge. (I heard Roman Sionis tried to buy it once!) I’d love for you to visit… Drop me a line when you can. -Your fair lady

Bruce felt the impossible gnaw at him. But the strings he had were so easily put together. Oswald had been corresponding with Lady Arkham, despite the fact that Vicki Vale was buried under the rubble of Arkham’s underground catacombs.

She was dead.

Had to be.

He’d checked.

They never did find a body in all that rubble, did they?

Bruce tried to breathe steadily into his hands. His elbows were sore from the near-constant perch on the metal console as he read and re-read. He sank further to rest his forehead on his arms, breathing in the cave air as he tried to focus.

He saw that pile of rubble in his mind’s eye. Broken stone bricks were piled high in a seemingly endless mountain in the cool, musty darkness below Arkham. He moved through it, stepping on only the largest, sturdiest pieces to prevent an avalanche. Bruce climbed over a fallen column. The snakes winding around the stone seemed to shift in the light.

Even in the basement, he could feel the pull of the asylum on his psyche. The toxic energy that seeped into walls from years of madness and undoubtable abuse stirred down there like dust, swirling at his feet and seeming to stick to the edges of his cape. He tried to ignore it as he walked over the broken stone to the spot he saw Vicki last.

The opening she had tried to get to was completely sealed now. There was nothing but dead ends among long-dead bodies everywhere else underground.

He could see the top of the air-pulse weapon Lady Arkham had wielded sticking out between two stones. He reached down and pulled, straining against the rock until they started to tumble away; the weapon pulled free as if it were Excalibur, almost making him fall back.

His drone was too large to send into the fresh gap. He stooped down to shine his light into the crevice, dust swirling up to meet him and cover him in Arkham before could glimpse the gloved hand reaching up to snatch his cape, jerking his shoulder, trying to pull him down deeper into-

Bruce snapped awake, jolting in his seat. When had he fallen asleep…?

“Morning, honey-buns,” John greeted from behind, placing a cup of coffee next to Bruce’s elbow, “Rough night?”

Bruce watched a freshly dressed John lean his hip against the massive desk, taking a sip from his silly ‘clown juice’ mug with an expectant stare. He felt his mood sink upon realizing he hadn’t seen him since last night. He’d seemed surprised at the explosion interrupting the odd murder-game he’d made, but… He looked awfully casual right now, if not a little mad.

“I mean, I assume,” John added, squinting accusingly at Bruce, “you forgot to text me what happened.”

Ah. That explained the mood. “It was pretty long,” Bruce answered, his mouth tasting like old beef jerky. “I didn’t even know I fell asleep.”

“I could tell,” John teased with a snide little smirk, moving to sit on the flat surface so he could swing his feet in the air. “I haven’t seen you fall asleep in the suit before.”

The square cut of emerald and tiny amethysts on either side winked at Bruce from John’s ring finger, bringing Bruce back into the reality of the present. He pushed the thoughts of John’s involvement away, choosing to trust his fiancé and figuring that his mood was entirely due to Bruce keeping him in the dark. He finally gave into the urge to let his gloved fingers rest softly on the plum-purple corduroy covering John’s thigh. “That’s because someone keeps goading me out of it.”

John giggled, looking pleased. “If you weren’t so shy about mixing the other halves of our lives together, I wouldn’t have to.”

Bruce could feel the little smile in the corner of his mouth quirking up as John’s hand covered his. He relented in finally taking in some of the steaming caffeine John had brought him. The smooth bitter heat steeped into his chest, bringing him partially back to life.

“Soooo…Penguin, huh?” John craned his neck up to the monitor behind him, taking Bruce a little off guard. “Was he playing ‘Emperor’ in prison, or is it just another concrete jungle?”

Truthfully, Bruce wasn’t sure what to make of Oz’ predicament. “Hard to say,” he said, “He got out of the cell for a few minutes, but some of the prisoners had no problem with me fighting him. His neighbor certainly didn’t care about who he was talking to.”

“Could just be all that testosterone and sleep deprivation crammed in those two-by-fours,” John commented knowingly, legs moving steadily in the air, “Any fight gets ‘em all riled up! As you well know,” he said with a sly little grin.

Bruce remembered Zaaz’s fight with the orderly back in Arkham all too well. The orderly survived, but Bruce had felt the guilt of leaving him to fend for himself while he made the all-important call compound and sit in him for a long time.

“Could be.”

“Those little letters sure are interesting, aren’t they? I’m guessing you didn’t find the replies.”

Bruce leaned back in the chair, looking at the whole picture again. “No. He must have had an in-between deliver them. I know he must have had someone in the mailroom on his payroll.” He stared at the offending final letter, pulled up square among the rest. “That last one bothers me.”

“Right? It’s hard to picture The Penguin meeting up with a zombie in a club! Ha ha ha haa! Ah, doesn’t that sound like a bad horror flick?”

Such a silly thing to say should have quelled the thought still pecking at the back of his skull. It only left a bad taste in his mouth. Coffee wasn’t washing it away.

The smile slipped from John’s face. “...she is dead, isn’t she? I remember that pile of rubble looked pretty big on T.V…”

For a moment, Bruce thought about shrugging it off with silence. Or just saying that Oz mentioning her couldn’t be a coincidence. But John had asked the question that kept casting shadows over everything else. And if there was anyone else who could look at those, it was John. “I never found her body,” he answered, staring hard at the digitized letter, “No one did.”

“Sooo…there’s a slim chance she’s back in Gotham, then,” John said with a squint, pinching his index finger and thumb together in front of Bruce’s face, the emerald on his ring glinting, “I mean, IF we put aside the fact she was likely heavily injured and would have to hitch a ride back to the city, where everyone definitely recognizes her, AFTER getting out of the secret underground chamber and swimming back to Gotham from the island.”

It was the kind of thing he’d hear from him across the visiting table at Arkham. He wanted to believe him. “It’s still a chance,” he said, unable to shake the feeling he was missing something important, “If it’s not her, then someone’s going out of their way to convince us it is.”

“There is another possibility.” John paused to take a loud slurp from his mug. “He’s trying to throw you off your rhythm.”

“To what end?”

“Who says there has to be an end?” John shrugged, a smile on the corners of his cherry-red mouth, “If I was really mad at you - like, ree-ally mad - ‘you betrayed me’ mad - I’d do it just to mess with you.”

Even now that they were engaged, he found himself not doubting that at all. John sometimes enjoyed needling him for little to no reason other than getting a reaction. Maybe, if John were different… If their lives had gone differently, then…

He swallowed the dark thought down with coffee and a non-committal hum as the cell phone left on the console buzzed. Once, twice, and on the third Bruce finally deigned to answer.

“Morning, Iman.”

“Bruce,” came Iman’s no-nonsense voice, “you need to get down to the office.”

“I wasn’t exactly planning on playing hooky,” Bruce said dryly.

“A few of my old colleagues are here,” Iman replied, her tone sharp and stable, “talking to our security team. They’re going to have a conference call with a few of our other branches. And I have a feeling they’ll want to talk to you personally.”

“Great. That’s all I need.” He pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he felt he needed to know: “What are you doing there so early, anyway?”

A slight pause. “I wanted to catch the Quick ‘Fast truck again,” she answered sheepishly, “I figured I would just come in and get some work done afterward.”

Ah. The early bird catches the pancake-burger, Bruce thought to himself. “Right. I’ll be over as soon as I can.”

“Be careful,” she added, “they’ll likely put a tail on you after they talk with you here, but they might have one already watching the house.” A beat passed as he considered the small frame of time he might have unobserved. “I’ve gotta run. Any longer in here and they’ll suspect I’m talking to you.”

John set his mug down by the fabric flowers he’d made Bruce while he was still in Arkham. “Bad news? Let me guess – our latest wedding planner’s gone rogue.”

“No. Worse than that.”

“Good; Kimberly might not have much going for her, but after the last two…”

“John.”

John mimed zipping his mouth shut.

“The Agency is back in town. Some of them are waiting for me at the office.”

“The Agency?” Tiffany piped up from behind, “What do they want?”

“I don’t know yet,” Bruce said over his shoulder, “but considering they aren’t coming to the house, and are conversing with Wayne Enterprises’ entire security team, I’d say they’re waiting for someone to come in or out of one of our buildings.”

John was worrying the corner of his bottom lip as he looked at the steel floor, eyes darting over the squares like they held all the paths such a situation could go.

“John,” he said as gently as possible, putting a hand on his shoulder, “you don’t have to go to work if you don’t want to. I can talk to your social worker-”

“No!” he said suddenly, snatching hold of Bruce’s arm. He seemed to realize how frantic he seemed, because he quickly covered it by giving the armor plating a couple of pats and trying for a smile. “No. I’ll go. I shouldn’t…” The smile wavered. “I don’t want to be alone here,” he muttered honestly.

“We’re going to have to get you to work early, then. It’s that or dropping you off at St. Dymphna’s…”

Tiffany was already taking over the console, pulling up the 3D-generated image of the bomb. “Have you looked through this?”

“Not quite.”

Tiffany pulled away the layers of it, eyes traveling over the interior. The drone cameras had taken the pictures of the pieces, and Bruce and the BatComputer worked together to piece it back like a three-dimensional puzzle. He didn’t pay as much attention to its construction as he should have; he had been combing over Oz’ mail not long before and thinking about any other possible explanation than the one that kept popping up.

“So, you missed the partial left behind?” Sure enough, a partial print of what might have been from the middle or index finger was barely visible on one of the inner slices of metal, somehow not entirely burned off. If Bruce hadn’t been present for the explosion, he wouldn’t wonder if it was somehow planted for him.

Tiffany was already running a cross-check on the criminal database with one of her shortcut commands. “That’s not like you.” She squinted at him with a tilt of her head. “Are you okay?”

“I think the lure of the criminal chase was clearly too much last night; he fell asleep down here,” John excused for him.

Tiffany pulled a face. “I hope that’s not a euphemism for something.”

“He means I was distracted by case details,” Bruce butted in, “And I did fall asleep. But more importantly-”

“You need to go,” Tiffany and John said in unison.

John pointed at Tiffany in delight. “Ooh-hoo, jinx!”

“I can easily look into this,” Tiffany pointed to the rapidly growing list of names, “and still be on time.”

“And I’ll help!” John gestured to himself importantly, “Four eyes are better than two! Um, as long as you don’t mind driving me to work on your way,” John added, casting Tiffany a friendly look.

Tiffany pursed her lips in mock-thought. “Hmm… Alright. But only because I know I’m getting a seat of honor at your guys’ wedding. And this is a huge list.”

Bruce felt the usual itch to just take the important work with him. He knew he could only look at it at red lights, and knew he’d be thinking about it nonstop until he reached his office. But with the Agency back in town and speaking with his security team of all things, the sense of dread he’d felt last night was building higher.

Something was going to happen.

And for once, Bruce felt that he shouldn’t try to go it alone.

“I expect to see you,” he pointed to Tiffany, “in the engineering offices by 9 A.M. sharp. I want a brief in my office at 9:30.” Tiffany seemed to stand a little straighter, and the smile on the edges of her mouth became more pronounced.

“And you,” he directed at John, who was already looking bright-eyed, “better be at All Stitched Up Alterations by 8:30. And you’re going to stay there for your whole shift, go back to St. Dymphna’s with the others, and wait until I pick you up at 5:30.”

“Sheesh, I leave early one time to follow a lead for your case, and you act like I’m some delinquent,” John poked with a toothy grin. “I’d make a joke about detention with you if Tiffy wasn’t here.”

Tiffany wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, please don’t.”

John giggled at her as he brushed off his pants like he’d gotten them dirty just by sitting. “Okay, Bruce, I promise I’ll be good,” he half-sang, “but I better be updated during the day this time.”

John looped his arms around Bruce’s neck and leaned in to kiss his cheek, but his lips didn’t make contact.

“Don’t think any of this stops our game, Bruce,” John whispered in a low voice, the corner of his smiling mouth brushing over the fine hairs. Bruce wasn’t sure if it was the words or the soft movement that made the spike of heat in his gut. John’s lips barely brushed his skin in a soft peck. “Don’t make me sleep alone.”

Bruce felt John’s nails dig slightly into his back with the last word, and then John pulled himself away like nothing happened. “Have a good day!” he added brightly. “Uh, you know, as much as you can.”

His heart thudded with the small rush of adrenaline at the threat still burning against his ear. It was unreasonable to try and play this…murder-game Joker had established while Bruce and Batman had enough on their plates.

“I’ll be waiting,” John added, tilting his head to look at Bruce through his lashes with a challenging sort of smirk. The kind normally reserved for when he was moments away from being bound and on his knees.

Bruce reminded himself that this unreasonable, manipulative, handsome sneak of a man was who he was choosing to marry. He wouldn’t promise him anything; he couldn’t. But he wouldn’t deny him, either. If he was this hell-bent on playing, it was clearly important to him.

“I’ll…try.” Bruce heard the cape of his suit swish across the metal tiles as he made his way to the elevator.

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

Author Notes: Finally, we're at our proper start, having returned to the classic TellTale formula! The Whole Nine Yards sure was a nice romantic break in the series, but things can't stay that way forever. (If you hadn't read it, no worries, I'll summarize for you: Bruce and John talked about their feelings and further built their relationship, boinked a lot, Alfred left again, and Bruce spontaneously proposed to John on a romantic sunset-lit beach.) I'm sure you realize that our return to base means "choices" have an impact again - for example, if you romanced Selina throughout and only befriended John, it would be her waking Bruce but John butting his way in partway to deliver his last whispered lines with a hug…minus the threat of sending Bruce to the couch, of course. Selina would then stick around to help next chapter as well, but only so far. A villainous Joker would have had made a real crime scene for our prologue and thus made his game a lot more pressing of an issue and a way more reasonable excuse to follow up on it. (No matter who he romances, Bats can't stay away from Joker's ploys.)

Y'all know by now that I love jokes in my work as much as I love making clues. Penguin's dead goon, Rocky Hopper, is both! The name comes from the rockhopper penguin, which is famous for it's bushy "brows", weird spikey mullet-like "haircut", and red eyes. We also have a callback to Season 4, The Tolls of Justice, with Iman's excuse for showing up to work early - Quick 'Fast (like "quick breakfast"), the mysterious food truck that eludes John and home of his coveted Pancake Burger! Apparently, Iman tried it and liked it enough to chase after it. Somewhere, in the recesses of my brain, there's a short story taking place before this where Iman and John hunt down the truck together… But that's for another day.

Next time, we'll see things from a certain bird-girl's point of view. After all, her choices matter as much as the rest, and she really doesn't get enough love around here. Until then...thank you, as always, for joining me on this journey! (●´□`)♡

#fangs of ouroboros #telltale batman #batman the telltale series #telltale batjokes #juce #the perseverance project #oswald cobblepot #bruce wayne #john doe #iman avesta #tiffany fox #vicki vale #lady arkham #the penguin #yes that is an alchemical symbol for a spacer #hmm I wonder who Penguin's neighbor is?

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twotangledsisters · 1 year ago

Note

Can you compile a list of when and where there is Eugene hurt, please? (I know you will torment me with the dreaded scene...) But, if you are doing one for Cass, Eugene deserves it, too!

Well, it's hurt/comfort for NDAW so guess today is the perfect day to answer this! xD

Eugene's hurt/comfort/angst Two Tangled Sisters Guide:

Using the same sections as with Cassandra:

The Bad Childhood

In The Frostwork Festival

Chapter 2: Orphans Don’t Get Gifts (Eugene gets coal despite trying his best)

In Vardaros and The Tower

Chapter 38: Picnic of Truth (Part 4/5: Just Another Bad Behaved Kid) - Chapter 39: Picnic of Truth (Part 5/5: Verified Witch) (Eugene opens up to Rapunzel about his childhood)

Emotional Hurt/Comfort

In Two Princesses

Chapter 1: A thief and a fighter (In section 2 we see Eugene being uncomfortable with the palace and receiving comfort from Arianna). Chapter 15: The Crown (Part 5: Ransoms and Insurance) (Eugene feels guilty and hands himself in as a hostage so Cassandra can go home).

In Within the Walls of Corona

Chapter 7: Royal Portraits and Royal Guards (Part 3/4: Bad Portraits and Bad Practices) (First and last section, Eugene is denied entry to the royal guard for his criminal past.) Chapter 8: Royal Portraits and Royal Guards (Part 4/4: Counterfeits) (In the third section Eugene thinks his about to die for a hot second. And there’s an emotional chat in the final section about not fitting in.)

Chapter 13: Strongbow (Part 3/3: The Queen's Ring) (the most uncomfortable breakfast with in-laws ever as Arianna recognises the ring Eugene gifted Rapunzel).

Chapter 16: Equis (Part 3/3: Witches) (Eugene alongside Frederic see something that will definitely have an impact on them).

Chapter 32: Master Thief (Part 3/7: All children are precious, even the criminal ones)-Chapter 33: Master Thief (Part 4/7: Is a fresh start even possible?) (Keira and Catalina definitely get Eugene thinking of a past best forgotten).

Chapter 46: The Queen's Sister (Part 4/4: Blessings and Whispers) (Eugene asks Frederic and important questions and does not receive the answer he desires).

In A Birthday is Supposed to Celebrate a Person: Eugene definitely has ‘feelings’ regarding birthdays, but it soon delves into the comfort as his friends and family come together to celebrate him!

In The Frostwork Festival

Chapter 6: A Chance to Believe (Eugene tells Arianna a bit about his previous Frostworks) Chapter 7: A Family Frostwork (Eugene receives his first real Frostwork Gift in a long time)

In The Alchemist's Search

Chapter 19: The Truth Hurts (Par 2/3: The Truth and Nothing But The Truth) (Eugene is forced to admit he killed a man)

In The Princess, The Pirate and The Prosecutor

Chapter 16: The Garrote (Eugene is reliving some of his past at the sight of a familiar item) Chapter 17: I Didn't Do Anything - Chapter 18: He Doesn't Have a Motive - Chapter 19: Cassandra's Blood (Eugene becomes the main suspect of Cassandra’s disappearance) Chapter 20: The Prosecutor (Eugene is sentences for a crime he did not commit)

The recovery: Chapter 31: Stay Away From My Family Chapter 32: One fool, who was unable to see the true you (section 2) Chapter 34: The Sundrop Vile (first and third section) Chapter 38: Relinquishing The Idea Of Peace (second section and third section) Chapter 39: The King's Apology (second section)

In Vardaros and The Tower

Chapter 26: A Rebellion Can't Start With One Person (Part 6/13: The Word of an Ex-Thief Against The Word of a Witch) (second section, Eugene is acting a bit weird)

Chapter 35: Picnic of Truth (Part 1/5: There is no alone. We are a team.) (first section, some recovery from the Stabbington and brief mentions of past) Chapter 36: Picnic of Truth (Part 2/5: Finally a Visit to Prison Where They're Not in a Cell!) (Anthony hits a nerve with Eugene, talking about events he didn’t want to remember) Chapter 37: Picnic of Truth (Part 3/5: Princess Cassandra, protector of Corona and kid’s play parks) (section one, some comfortish)

In High Tide Dream

Chapter 19: Bad Luck Charm (Part 3/4: The Curse of Friendship) - Chapter 20: Bad Luck Charm (Part 4/4: Good Luck Charm) (Technically this entire arc Eugene is beating himself up a bit but chapter 19 he has a nightmare at the end and in chapter 20 he is comforted for it)

In The Great Tree (so far)

Chapter 14: This Shouldn't Be Happening (Eugene carries the emotional weight of the consequences of The Great Tree, feeling as though he failed to protect Cassandra).

Physical Hurt/Comfort

In Two Tangled Sisters

Chapter 22: It Glows (he gets stabbed… slashes? Hurt nonetheless)

In Two Princesses

Chapter 13: The Crown (Part 3: The Princess is Missing) -Chapter 14: The Crown (Part 4: A Cold Dark Place) (Where Eugene is dropped from a roof, breaks his arms and is rudely awoken by swords pointed at his face, very short).

In What about food?: The third chapter. It explores financial anxiety and Eugene trying to save money anyway he can, including not eating enough or at all.

The Alchemist's Search

Chapter 1: After the Storm (Part 1/2: Permission to Proceed) (In the first section, we see some of Eugene’s recovery after the storm with Rapunzel not letting him fully rest.) Chapter 3: Paint and Law (Part 1/8: Throw The World Away) (Section 2, a bite more of his recovery.)

In Vardaros and The Tower

Chapter 6: Love and Truth (Part 2/12: Fire) (Eugene runs into fire and gets him and his party arrested)

Chapter 27: A Rebellion Can't Start With One Person (Part 7/13: The Fossilized Cat) (Middle section, Eugene injures his foot jumping from a window) Chapter 28: A Rebellion Can't Start With One Person (Part 8/13: No Good Deed Goes Unpunished) (first and third section) Chapter 29: A Rebellion Can't Start With One Person (Part 9/13: Politically Motivated) (second section)

In The Great Tree (so far)

Chapter 6: The Decay Incantation (Eugene is affected by the Decay Incantation) Chapter 9: The Spear (Eugene is affected by the Decay Incantation a second time)

Mixed/I Don’t Know Hurt/Comfort

In A Place Far, Far Away: Sections 3, 7, 9, 11, 13 are the Eugene sections during which he hands himself into the Corona guards to ask for help retrieving Rapunzel and Cassandra, so, there’s definitely some stress there on him.

In Pear, Apple and Eugene: The entire fic is Eugene forced to travel with a couple of criminals who do not have his best intentions at heart… But mostly:

Chapter 6: Into the Castle (poison Eugene and force him to help infiltrate Equis castle, why not?) Chapter 7: Is this the right room?-Chapter 8: Puzzles the Pony (Eugene is captured and thinks of Rapunzel). Chapter 9: Is there time for change? (This is the final ‘battle’ and one where Eugene is forced to do something he’ll have to live with his entire life). Chapter 10: Home (The comfort?)

In Within the Walls of Corona

Chapter 34: Master Thief (Part 5/7: Orphans Don't Belong in the Palace) -Chapter 35: Master Thief (Part 6/7: The Plan Is Save The Girls) - Chapter 36: Master Thief (Part 7/7: Keira and Catalina) (Eugene and Lance search for their missing thieves and hand themselves in to protect Keira and Catalina).

Chapter 42: Criminals of Corona (Part 6/6: Innocent Blood) (There’s some exhaustion as Eugene rescues Cassandra).

In The Princess, The Pirate and The Prosecutor

The time awaiting his execution: Chapter 22: Mourning (section 1) Chapter 24: I Was A Different Man Back Then (final section) Chapter 25: She's Alive (final section) Chapter 27: Unmoving (third section) Chapter 28: Be Ready (third section) Chapter 29: Ready As I'll Ever Be (first section)

Eugene is taken to be hung at the gallows: Chapter 30: The Gallows

In Vardaros and The Tower

Stalyan: Chapter 9: Love and Truth (Part 5/12: Left at the Altar) Chapter 10: Love and Truth (Part 6/12: A Past More Bitter Than Wine) (section 1) Chapter 11: Love and Truth (Part 7/12: Jailbreak) (second section) Chapter 13: Love and Truth (Part 9/12: All Because of a Comb) (second section, but the next section also has journals of his back when he was forced to work for the Baron so, that too?) Chapter 15: Love and Truth (Part 11/12: Do You…?) (Eugene doesn’t know the gang’s plan!) Chapter 16: Love and Truth (Part 12/12: She Doesn't Know You) (The Baron takes out some of his anger on Eugene)

The Stabbingtons: Chapter 31: A Rebellion Can't Start With One Person (Part 11/13: The One Thing Worth More To Them Than Money) (section one and three) Chapter 32: A Rebellion Can't Start With One Person (Part 12/13: Give Yourself Up For The Greater Good) (second and final section) Chapter 33: A Rebellion Can't Start With One Person (Part 13/13: Vardaros Will Thrive) (The recovery)

And I promise there is more to come!

But, while I’m here, if you want other fics from me with hurt/comfort/angst for Eugene, you can check out:

Unhappily Married I mean it’s a fic about Eugene being kidnapped by the Baron forced to marry Stallyan.

Unfair Mostly Cassandra but towards the end when Eugene finds out their banter wasn’t a fun two-sided thing and finds out about what happens to Captain, there is definitely some guilt there. But with a happy ending!

Where Cassandra said Something and Captain Listened AU to Three Thieves, only really makes sense if you read that, but it’s the comfort that fic was missing!

Plus Forts Ensemble Eugene gets stabbed and temporarily dies in this one. And worst than both those stuff, he gets locked in a cell with Cassandra!

Prince Eugene of the Dark Kingdom Mostly the beginning, growing up in isolation, at one points he runs away and gets injured, when he grows up a bit he has to deal with the weight of duty… And I promise there is a lot more hurt/comfort coming soon.

The Three Thieves I mean… this is growing up neglected and forced into a life of crime so, a lot of this fic is hurt/comfort. When it comes to Eugene, highlights would probably be ‘Did you Learn Your Lesson’ arc in which Eugene is taken to see a hanging live so he knows what he’s future will be if he doesn’t change paths. Those poor kids.

A Journey Down Memory Lane written in collaboration with @the-writer1988 this one is literally done for the prompt hurt/comfort, so obviously, there’s a lot of it!

#ask answered #Eugene fitzherbert angst #Eugene Fitzherbert hurt/comfort #tts fanfic #rta fanfic #tangled fanfic

18 notes · View notes

ghastlybin · 2 years ago

Note

Siyeon angst? I couldn’t think of any details so I guess just make me cry

Hello!! Thank you for your request! You said make you cry so I am hoping this does, however I do recommend you (and anyone else reading) to please PLEASE READ THE TRIGGER WARNINGS FIRST before you proceed. I will bold it so y’all know where it’s at in this info dump of an introduction. I know this isn’t for everyone and I also don’t want you to read and then get mad at me later because I did warn you. And I’ll warn you again before I get to the actual request, so PLEASE proceed with caution!!! Thank you again 🫶

•••

Pairing: Siyeon x Reader FT. JiU, Dami, Gahyeon, SuA (mentioned), and Yeosang (Ateez, short feature)

Word count: 8,516 (about. I edited it so there are probably more or less.)

Genre/contents: Dystopian! AU, Angst, *maybe* fluff but you gotta squint REALLY hard, Sci-fi-ish themed with an attempt at some horror elements. Correct me if I’m wrong ofc

••••••••••••••••••••••

TW: character death + mentions/implications/ semi description if not full, mature/foul language (cuss words. Lots of them), blood, guns, depression, self-loathing, self-sabotage(?), a lot of unresolved traumas, abandonment issues? I basically made this hella depressing.

••••••••••••••••••••••

Synopsis: In a world affected by a mysterious collapse that brought on strong beings known as “the colliding ones”, You are a part of a team tasked to prevent the third collapse before humanity becomes completely extinct in exchange for total freedom and an overall better life.

Note: again, PLEASE READ THE TRIGGER WARNING SECTION FIRST!!!!! I WOULD RATHER Y’ALL BE OKAY THAN FOR ME TO HAVE NOTES!!! Your mental health comes first, I promise you it won’t hurt my feelings and yes, I do need therapy, no, I can’t afford it, yes, I overthought posting this and yes, I do feel remorse but please remember this is also entirely fiction and based off a dream I had once and a few songs I listened to on repeat to try and get a feel of the general plot. & Yes, I did use dreamcatcher songs as names for certain things and yes, I added Yeosang because I love him. I also love Dreamcatcher too otherwise I wouldn’t be writing for them please don’t hate me because there isn’t really a happy moment, although I did try at the ending. Keyword, try.

But anon said make them cry.

Blame anon. (Joking, joking.)

“We have plenty of time.”

Gahyeon twiddled with the analog sticks on her worn-down tablet that was moments away from shutting down completely if she kept refusing to ‘get a new one’.

Minji walked over and took the tablet away in one swift movement as the ‘game over’ screen covered the screen.

“Hey! I almost beat-“

“I’m about to beat your ass!”

You crossed your arms, angrily shooting glares in the direction of the guard that forced you into the room with the rest of your team members.

Gahyeon closed her gaped mouth upon realizing that you hadn’t meant that threat towards her. She reached for the tablet, only for Minji to walk away from her with it still in her hands and towards you and the guard.

“What’s going on?” Minji put her hand on your shoulder in an attempt to pull you further away from the guard who wasn’t intimidated by you.

Gahyeon watched on from the torn-up couch, picking some of the fillings inside the cushions out of habit.

“That one,” the guard narrowed his eyes towards you. “Was caught trying to sneak into the prison sector.”

“Prison sector? That’s across the fucking town! I was trying to get into the holding center! I have the clearance too, dumbass.” You held up your ID card, to which the guard swiped it out of your hand to take a closer look.

Minji let out a sigh, taking the card from the guard and holding it in the same hand she had confiscated Gahyeon’s tablet with.

“I swear you guards are let in on the bare minimum!” You scoffed.

Minji nudged your arm with her elbow.

“Go sit down- And be quiet.” She ordered.

You walked over to Gahyeon with reluctance, yet you had some understanding that you shouldn’t act like that.

Especially not to a guard with slightly higher clearance than you.

That would change soon.

“Where is Yubin?” You whispered as Minji stepped outside of the room and into the hallway with the guard.

“She’s being debriefed on our mission.” Gahyeon messed with the filling she had pulled out of the couch, the boredom getting to her.

“Why were you in the prison sector?”

“Holding center,” You corrected. “I wanted to see something.”

“Ah. You wanted to see something.” She smirked, pulling more of the filling out of the cushion.

You stared at the filling in her hands, each fiber ripping apart the more Gahyeon pulled each end apart.

Siyeon was the glimmer in your eyes when you would smile. She was the feeling of a weight lifting off of your shoulders after a stressful day.

Her very presence was like warmth to you after a harsh blizzard- And you had experienced many blizzards since the first ‘collapse’ in the earth years ago.

You never believed in love or the possibility of being loved. Not since the collapse had taken everyone from you.

Those who were arrested, those who died, and those who left for a better, safer, land.

You loved Siyeon.

Siyeon loved you.

Those moments with her, getting ready with her, laughing with her, all of those times she would come to you crying because of something bothering her. Every time you’ve cried to her for something bothering you, although rare. You were used to having suppressed any and every emotion to the point nothing hurt you. The deaths of your friends at the hands of the colliding ones only angered you. The beings that appeared first during the first collapse.

The beings that multiplied during the second collapse.

The beings that were receding in preparation for phase three.

The third collapse.

You never shed a tear. Not until you met Siyeon.

She was the first- And the only person to have helped you feel again.

You remembered how it hurt to just feel. The images of your friends being ripped apart or flung in far away distances at an inhumane speed played like a slideshow in your mind.

“It will hurt a lot less to just feel rather than not feel.”

You never understood what that meant by that until she showed you.

“Y/N! Hurry up! Do you want to live lavishly or stay in this hell hole of a city?!” Yubin snapped her fingers in front of your face.

You zoned out. Of course, you did.

“Shit, sorry! What were you saying?”

“I didn’t say anything. I was waiting for you to get up. Minji wanted us to meet her at rendezvous E.”

You racked your brain, trying to remember the briefing so you weren’t going in completely blind.

Besides, pissing off Minji and maybe Yubin was the last thing on your to-do list.

You stuffed your hands into the pockets of your jacket as the frigid outside air bit into the bare parts of your skin that hadn’t been protected by some form of layered cloth.

You followed Yubin across the train tracks, carefully jumping down from the platform to not splash into a puddle of melted snow, and especially watched out for ice, knowing how the traction on your shoes wasn’t as good as they were before.

Yubin looked back at you, an impatient look on her face, though she abstained from saying anything.

You huffed, creating a cloud of smoke in the frigid air. You and Yubin were both startled by a cracking sound tearing across the sky.

“Hurry! Grab my hand!” Yubin yelled, holding out her hand for you. You did as she said, taking her hand before she roughly pulled you under the cover of the roof of the second platform.

Snow- Highly acidic snow- began to float down, sizzling on any surface or plant life growing in the area, whether it had barely grown or if it had already withered from previous snow storms.

“Thanks.” You watched the snow flurry run its course. The longest recorded length had been about six hours.

“The colliding ones must be on the hunt again.” You mumbled.

Yubin fumbled with the lock to the door of the entrance to the platform.

You remembered where Rendezvous ‘E’ was.

It was the place Siyeon left you.

It was an ongoing battle, waking up every day and convincing yourself that maybe today, humanity would be worth it.

No.

It was worth it.

A world where the innocent could abandon the steps of surviving and learn the steps of living.

What constituted living?

No longer waking up and wondering if you would have a home?

No more families were torn apart by the famine or poverty that was brought on during the first and second collapses?

Is living truly any different from surviving?

“What are you thinking about?” Siyeon wrapped her arms around your shoulders from behind.

“Huh?” You were dumbfounded. Unaware of where you were.

Siyeon was back.

“You were staring out into space again,” Siyeon rested her chin upon your shoulder, “something on your mind?”

“Oh.” There was a slight pause. “No. Yes. I don’t know.”

Siyeon smirked, moving to stand in front of you to meet your eyes. Deep down you wanted to resent her for leaving you after all this time.

You couldn’t.

“That was three different answers.”

“I was just thinking, what if we don’t survive the third collapse?” You shared your fears with her.

Something the ‘old you’ would’ve never dared.

Siyeon’s mouth curled into a slight pout. She shook her head, resting her hands on your shoulders.

“You can do it. I believe in you.” Siyeon smiled.

That smile. You hadn’t realized how long it had been since you last saw her.

You had just realized she was standing in front of you. She was back.

You engulfed her into your arms, earning a giggle from her in return.

“Took you long enough.”

You wanted to cry. You wanted to scream. You wanted to ask her so many questions that have been left unanswered for however long it had been.

You also wanted to run away with her and drop the whole mission entirely. Y

ou couldn’t bring yourself to do that, though. Not to Minji, Yubin, Gahyeon, or even to Siyeon.

Siyeon held onto you for as long as you held onto her. Maybe you wouldn’t have let her go if given the option.

You let go of her when Yubin entered the room. You ran down the chain of events that lead you here into this very room.

You and Yubin crossed the train tracks and the platforms, and you narrowly avoided the acidic snow flurry.

Anything, after Yubin got the platform door unlocked, had become a blur.

Siyeon took a step back, looking at Yubin as she walked toward you holding a map in her hands. You looked at Siyeon, who suddenly became quiet in Yubin’s presence.

“Minji and Gahyeon are reading to move on to rendezvous V.” Yubin showed you the map with a sticky note marking the different rendezvous points.

You glanced at Siyeon, who shrugged in response. You knew what you had to do, however. You’ve done this mission before.

Only, there were more people on your team.

Now it left you, Minji, Yubin, Gahyeon, and now Siyeon- if she decided to rejoin.

“Let’s get this over with.” You put so much authority into that one sentence, that even you started to believe you could pull the mission off.

Siyeon smirked, a sense of pride filling her from the inside out. You smiled, knowing she was proud of you.

Siyeon was the first person- Since the collapse- that told you she was proud of you.

Proud of you for waking up every day.

Proud of you for surviving an attack against the colliding ones.

She was proud of you for just being you.

“You can do it,” Siyeon whispered, giving you two thumbs up with a wide grin.

Yubin folded the map, “I forgot the ammo… One second.”

She groaned as she left the room- if you could even call it that, and you were alone with Siyeon again.

“You’re not rejoining?” A hint of disappointment in your tone when you looked back at Siyeon. She shook her head after a moment of hesitation.

“You’re leaving? Again?”

“I’m not leaving. I never left! I just… Needed to get away from the city.” Siyeon defended, although she understood your hurt from her departure.

“You left me.” You reiterated only this time you hoped it was low enough to where it hadn’t reached her ears.

Siyeon stepped closer to you, regret on her face. “I never meant to hurt you.”

“I’m happy to see you again.” You stood your ground, not having the urge or wanting to cry anymore.

“I’m happier that you are safe. But,”

“There’s a catch.”

“Why not…” Even then you couldn’t say it. Not immediately.

Why not take me with you?

The rest of the sentence burrowed in your mind, itching to come out. You wanted to know.

You had to know. It was the only way you could get rid of the ache in your chest.

“Got the ammo. I did almost step in a puddle but we can finally get out of here.” Yubin reentered the room, tilting her head immediately as she saw you.

“Oh… Yeah. Coming.” You gave Siyeon one last glance.

One last thing in your mind that begged its way to your mouth to be spoken out loud for the world- or at least Siyeon, to hear.

I still love you.

But you added that to a list of more words left unspoken.

“I missed you.” Siyeon’s voice cracked slightly.

You refused to bring yourself to look at her. You knew her tearful state would have made you cave.

Yubin loaded enough ammo into two guns specially made for the colliding ones.

I missed you too.

Another missed opportunity. Another sentence is unspoken.

Siyeon watched as you and Yubin left the room and into the ruins of an abandoned subway station.

Yubin led the way through the path of fallen debris and radioactive mushrooms that only grew in dark places where the colliding ones were typically found inhabiting the area.

Luckily, they were docile in the dark.

It was the light that caused them to become aggressive toward living beings.

Yubin grimaced, avoiding the areas with the mushrooms that gave off the only light source in the ruins of the subway.

The only light source the colliding ones could remain docile under.

“Where the hell did you get all of this ammo?” You whispered, although your whisper still managed to echo throughout the ruins.

“Bora left stashes of it all around the city back when…” Yubin stopped herself from continuing. She cleared her throat, moving a wooden beam to the side to squeeze through a tight space that led to the other side of the subway ruins.

“She left a stash of ammo at each rendezvous point. Any access points we are permitted to, there will be ammo.” Yubin held out her hand for you as you came through the tight opening.

“Daylight’s waiting.” She shivered, looking up the stairs at the sunlight that poured down onto the area below the steps.

The future seemed so far away.

The state of the world ceased to get better. You were sure it had decreased in quality.

Officials empty promises of a better world once the third collapse is prevented.

How they have the most elite of the elites on the job.

The empty paychecks that came with the job.

It only pissed you off more just thinking about it.

You weren’t doing the job for a better future or a lavish lifestyle.

As much as you wanted to resent her for leaving, you were doing it for Siyeon.

Even then, you weren’t entirely sure if you resented her, the colliding ones, or yourself.

You and Yubin met up with Minji and Gahyeon- who eventually got her busted tablet back.

A frustrated sigh emitted from Gahyeon’s mouth as she tore her focus away from the tablet.

“I may never beat Yeosang’s high score… Whoever that is.”

“Yeosang? The barista at Aurora?” Yubin asked, sitting beside her on a rusted bench under a dilapidated roof cover.

“He’s a barista? Didn’t think baristas had time to game.” Gahyeon mumbled, looking down at her tablet as she restarted her game.

“You’re competing against someone you don’t know?” Yubin was a bit confused by Gahyeon’s reaction, thinking she had met him before.

“Yeah. He’s the only other player anyway. Why not? How do you know him?”

“Do you ever listen to my rants? He’s the one that always messes up my simple order!”

“Could be worse. I would mess your order up on purpose if you came to my cafe.”

Minji ignored the two’s conversation and scanned the area with her binoculars.

“So.” You cleared your throat, unsure if you had spoken to her during the time you unintentionally spaced out.

“You really need to stop making enemies. You never know who will try to abuse their power.” Minji lowered the binoculars, handing them to you. You raised the lenses to your eyes, scanning the area she had just scanned.

“It’s not like I try making enemies. People just need to stop pissing me off.” You mumbled, lowering the binoculars.

“This is the infamously dangerous Maison?” You were unconvinced.

It looked about as dangerous as the rest of the city. And that was saying something.

“Rendezvous V is in Maison. The dead center of Maison.” Minji put the binoculars away.

“Yes!” Gahyeon rose to her feet. “I beat him!”

Minji chuckled, a smile forming on her face at the younger girl's accomplishment.

“Aw! My tablet shut off!” Gahyeon frowned in sudden disappointment.

“To be fair, it ran its course.” You crossed your arms.

Gahyeon shrugged. “What if this Yeosang guy retaliates in the middle of someone’s cup of coffee? Then what?”

You raised your eyebrows at her, “I doubt a barista in a busy city is going to beat your score anytime soon.”

Gahyeon smiled, a relieved sigh leaving her lips.

“Good.”

“Back to the mission, I will accompany Yubin to rendezvous I. You and Gahyeon will go to rendezvous V,” Minji explained. You and Gahyeon agreed, even if it meant you two would have to traverse through Maison.

Truth be told, you never stepped foot near Maison. Siyeon always advised you to never so much as look in the direction of Maison.

Something about it scared her and you wondered what it could be.

It was just something else you’ll never know the answer to.

Minji and Yubin walked away, bidding you and Gahyeon farewell for the time being.

You and Gahyeon began your trip toward Maison, hoping it didn’t snow there too.

“Wait!”

You stopped, turning to see Siyeon, bundled in a heavy jacket as she sprinted to catch up with you and Gahyeon.

“I’m coming with you.” Siyeon panted, catching her breath as you continued to walk with Gahyeon and now Siyeon, who accompanied you two last minute.

It was strange.

Your estranged girlfriend- or, Ex-girlfriend, even if you two never actually broke up, was walking beside you and Gahyeon, someone else she left in pursuit of her ‘happiness’.

You understood it too. Wanting to be happier and safe. You understood why she left, even if it took you forever to realize it.

But it still hurt.

It hurt that you never got a proper ‘goodbye’, you at least deserved that, right?

It hurt that she never asked you, whether it was asking you what you thought or the fact she didn’t ask you to come with her.

“Agh! I really hope Yeosang abandoned the game… He’s really hard to beat.” Gahyeon whined, mainly to herself, but from the glance she spared you, you felt obligated to speak.

“He won’t beat you.” You replied, watching as the various puddles of acidic snow began to dwindle the more you three trudged into the Maison territory.

“How do you know?”

“Because I know you.” You stopped, feeling the air still around you. “If he does beat you, you will get back on and spend months trying to surpass him again. And you’ll succeed every time.”

Gahyeon looked at you, a smile beaming on her face.

Siyeon slipped her hand into yours, taking this moment as an opportunity. Her touch felt like fire against your skin, only you didn’t have the urge to pull your hand back in a hissing pain.

“Y/N! Was that a compliment?” Gahyeon squealed, hugging you, which in turn almost knocked you off balance.

And off guard.

“Woah! So sorry!” Gahyeon helped steady you as an apology for almost knocking you off your feet.

“Something isn’t right.” You stepped forward, letting go of Siyeon’s hand.

“What isn’t right?” Siyeon asked, speaking for the first time since she joined. You took a few more steps forward, Siyeon and Gahyeon watched carefully.

Gahyeon readied the gun Minji had given her before meeting up in between the rendezvous points E and V.

Siyeon wasn’t a fighter. Nor did she have a gun or weapon of any kind.

Even back then after the second collapse, she served as a ‘negotiator’ or a ‘runner’ who would run and distract the colliding ones for the sake of giving the fighters a better advantage.

A runner, you thought. Maybe it was her fate to run away.

“I don’t see anything…” Gahyeon hesitantly stepped forward. Siyeon remained where she was to observe the area.

She was good at observing things. People too.

That’s how she changed you. How she brought your soul back to your being after it had been broken after so much pain.

“Watch your footing.” Siyeon breathed out, noticing the expertly hidden mines under mounds of pebbles that could- And would send you into a catatonic shock if touched by bare skin.

You nor Gahyeon could see the mines. Neither of you was trained for anything other than fighting. Yubin was the only other person that could spot a mine in an open field.

But Siyeon could.

“Follow me. I know a path.” Siyeon carefully walked ahead, “follow my exact steps.”

You did as she said, not wanting to risk catatonia or being blown up sky-high.

Gahyeon watched you before she followed.

“Who set the mines up? Don’t you ever wonder?” Gahyeon eyed your footing as you did with Siyeon.

“Doesn’t matter. We aren’t here to find that out.” You never intended for that to come out as coldly as it did.

The three of you jumped over the last group of pebbles and onto a patch of dry grass. A dilapidated sign that had “Maison” painted over it hung from the stone entrance. You were sure if a gust of wind came along, it would fall. Even the stone walls.

“They’re here!” Gahyeon raised her gun on full alert, the special ammo already loaded in the chamber.

“Where?!” You did the same, holding your gun up. Siyeon walked under the entrance.

“What are you doing?!”

“They aren’t going to come out if they know you’re armed. I will distract them.” She winked back at you.

“What?” Gahyeon glanced at you, barely having heard you. She squinted, noticing more movement.

“Should we advance yet?” She added to her previous question. You took the lead, walking into the entrance after Siyeon had stood in the middle of the area beyond the entrance.

There you saw it, a colliding one. Its sandy brown skin flowed and reconnected with various parts of its body like kinetic sand, the soulless sage green circles that made up its eyes, and ‘arms‘ that acted as swords or sledgehammers- The appearance of it only brought back painful memories.

Gahyeon grimaced. She found them disgusting to look at, from how you could smell the copper scent from the distance you stood, to how the kinetic sand-like skin would fall to the surface they stood on only for it to reconnect back onto its body.

Gahyeon had a theory, that after they kill their victim, they eat them. Cannibalism, she called it.

But this thing wasn’t human. Not even close.

“I don’t think I can make the shot.” Gahyeon whispered. You eyed Siyeon’s movements, waiting for her cue.

“Don’t. Not yet. Let it get closer.” You mumbled, spotting another one coming out of the shadows.

“I don’t think we can take three of them.” Gahyeon apprehensively looked back across the field of pebbles and mines.

“Let’s skip this point and meet up with Minji and Yubin, I don’t like this.” Gahyeon pleaded under her breath although her gun remained in the air, unwavering.

“It’s only three. We can take them.” You stepped forward, keeping to the shadows to not mess up Siyeon’s plan. Gahyeon followed your lead.

A colliding one puddled itself and re-materialized a yard’s length from Siyeon. She closed her fist, giving you and Gahyeon the cue.

“Now!”

Gahyeon shot the colliding one, an immediate ‘head’ shot that caused the entire being to puddle itself into a heap of sand, rocks, and a very lethal substance that caused similar symptoms to radiation poisoning.

Siyeon ran from her original spot as more and more of the colliding ones were drawn out by the gunshot. You wished the inside of Maison was as dark as the shadowed areas.

“Stick to the shadows!” You yelled, shooting any beings that lunged. Gahyeon paused her shooting to reload more of the special ammo into her chamber.

“They know we are here! It won’t matter!” Gahyeon cocked the gun, shooting more of the colliding ones. “Let’s go back!”

“Okay! Retreat!” You ordered, shooting your last bullet before booking it back towards the entrance.

You would have made it too. You, Gahyeon, and wherever Siyeon disappeared to.

But Gahyeon’s scream shattered through the sound of crumbling and sand falling, a scream that made your blood run cold.

“Gahyeon!” Siyeon’s own despaired scream rang out from across the space of the infested Maison entrance. She was too far to do anything.

Too unprepared as well and too surrounded to help her friend.

“I can’t,” Gahyeon cried out, trying to free her leg from the grasp she was in. She tried- and failed to claw her way to her fallen gun that only contained one bullet. She screamed, her fingernails damaged and bleeding as well as her leg where the colliding one had its grasp on her.

“It hurts!” Gahyeon howled in pain. You frantically reloaded your weapon but in your panic, you managed to fumble and drop the bullets on the ground, some of them breaking into bits beyond repair.

Dumbass!, you cursed yourself.

But there were two bullets still intact.

And there were now five colliding ones surrounding her.

“No!” You cried out, your gun raised and loaded, but realistically you would only be able to take two of them down.

You still shot, and just as you thought, you did only manage to take two of them down.

You were yanked back outside of the otherwise stone entrance to Maison by Siyeon and back through the path of the mines.

You were angry and grief-stricken, having abandoned your teammate like that.

No.

She was your friend before she was your teammate.

The walls you had up that prevented you from getting close to anyone who would inevitably hurt you did not change the fact that Gahyeon was someone you cared for.

Someone you would’ve saved if at all possible.

Someone you should’ve saved.

You pulled your arm from Siyeon’s grasp, turning towards the group of the colliding ones that had taken your friend from you.

They were advancing towards you, puddling themselves as to pass by the mines undetected.

“You fucking cowardly pieces of shit!” You screamed which in turn hurt your throat.

But you didn’t care. You would heal later.

Even if Gahyeon made it out somehow, she would take years to come back from the injuries she sustained.

“Y/N, Don’t! Let’s go!” Siyeon grasped your arm, only for you to yank yourself away.

You threw your empty gun directly onto one of the mines, which not only exploded and sent pebbles flying everywhere, but also managed to take out two puddled colliding ones.

“Yeah! Fuck around and you will find out!” You were crying as you screamed that. Anger boiled the blood in your veins.

Anger. All you felt was anger but you knew later when you were alone, the grief would dawn on you more, outweighing the anger completely.

“Y/N.” Siyeon spoke in a stern tone, her teeth clenched. “You need to calm down!”

You didn’t listen to her. You never listened to anyone when you were this angry. You wanted blood-shed. You wanted the anger to be appeased somehow. You wanted your friend back.

“Don’t!” Siyeon watched as you picked up a decently sized rock, which thankfully had no other side effects aside from being a rock, and you let it fly, hurdling towards another mine.

Only this mine was closer to you than you expected.

“I love you.”

Siyeon was the first to say those three words to you. She never told you about the hurt that came with it when you hadn’t said it back.

It wasn’t that you didn’t love her either. You loved her more than words could describe.

You just weren’t used to hearing those words. Sure, your family had told you they loved you, but that was before the collapse.

Before you lost them.

You were afraid you would lose Siyeon too once you said those words. The last words you heard before losing your family were those words. ‘I love you.’ Before you lost your best friend,

‘I love you.’

But here you were, hearing your girlfriend saying “I love you.”, in a safe environment too.

Yet it scared you way more than you ever thought possible.

‘I can’t lose you too.’

You just smiled at her despite your brain becoming a whirlpool of intense fear.

Siyeon took your hand in hers and you willed yourself to just tell her you loved her back.

You willed yourself to tell her you were having trouble saying those words because you had long associated them with pain and loss rather than love. Actual love.

Siyeon never told you, but she understood. Of course, she did.

The first time you managed to feel safe enough to tell her, “I love you.” She cried.

Then you cried because of the guilt for withholding those three simple words from her.

They were only words, sure, but they were anything but simple.

You remember the faint scent of her perfume, the softness of her jacket, and the wet tears meeting the skin on the crook of your neck.

She never meant to cry, and you never meant to make her cry.

She wasn’t sad. She wasn’t angry nor did she ever blame you.

She was happy. She was happy that even though she knew deep down how much you loved her, you had finally said it out loud and made it known.

“I love you but you scared the hell out of me!” Siyeon was kneeling in front of you, worriedly trying to grasp your attention.

You blinked and moved your head to take in your new surroundings.

Siyeon let out a sigh of relief, taking your hand into hers.

You were sat on a chair in a narrow hallway with walls covered in chipped black paint while the floor tiles were cracked yet still safe enough to walk on.

“Where are we?” You asked her. It was then that you noticed how dry your throat was. A familiar sting accompanied the dryness as well.

“Near rendezvous L. Minji and Yubin had to make an emergency call to the boss when they found us,” Siyeon filled you in on every detail that you somehow couldn’t remember.

“A pebble touched your skin. You were catatonic for ten hours! Why didn’t you stop when I asked?”

“They were going to kill us.” You mumbled. Your shoulders felt heavy, remembering what happened to Gahyeon.

“We could’ve outrun them.” She countered.

Something about her disappointment in you made you feel regretful. You wanted to cry. You wanted to curl into her arms and vent about everything wrong that has happened since she left.

You wanted to turn back the time and instead of Gahyeon, it was you who was cut off by the colliding ones.

Gahyeon, who dedicated hours to beating a barista’s high score.

Gahyeon, who may never beat his- Yeosang’s- high score again if he decided to retaliate.

Minji and Yubin exited a door beside you, long-faced and exhausted.

You wondered how they brought you back from Maison.

How long they had waited for you to snap out of your catatonic state.

You wondered if Siyeon told them about Gahyeon.

“The mission is to continue with the three of us.” Minji rubbed her eyes. Yubin didn’t speak a word. She looked to have already said her piece.

You furrowed your eyebrows, looking up at Siyeon, who had stood up.

“I’m… Not going with you guys…” She scratched the back of her neck, maintaining your gaze.

Siyeon bent down to plant a kiss on your forehead.

“I love you,” she smiled a gloomy smile. “I always have.”

I still love you.

But you didn’t have the energy to speak those words out loud.

I don’t blame you for leaving.

I miss you too.

I need you.

Please don’t leave.

More unspoken words clouded your mind.

I love you more than you’ll ever know.

You began to cry in the chair you were sitting on. No one said anything.

Siyeon, however, wrapped her arms around you as comfort.

Please don’t leave.

Then you screamed louder than you have before.

There were exactly five hours left before the third collapse would commence.

You, Minji, Yubin, all three of you were as ready as you could be. Those materializations of the kinetic sand-like bodies and their sage green soulless eyes. The copper scent was enough to nauseate you from the distance you stood.

You were given a newer gun with a much faster reload rate as you had blown up your old gun.

You wondered if Siyeon told them what happened or if you meant it as an accident.

The wind picked up at a higher speed the further the three of you trudged into their territory.

The colliding ones were hostile, but you three had guns. Armed.

They weren’t going to mess with you yet. Not until you shot first.

You wondered if Minji or Yubin saw you as a ticking time bomb. If they worried you would do something stupid that would jeopardize the entire mission and inevitably the world.

Like dropping all of the damn ammo when it was most crucial.

“High alert. We’re in the center.” Minji’s voice came in clearly through the earpiece you had collectively put on.

“Copy.” Yubin had one hand on her ear, turning down the volume, realizing how loud she had it set to.

You watched the puddles of sand, rock,- and possibly just radiation- moving around the three of you. They never came any closer than three feet and even made way for you the further the three of you walked.

Only a few of the colliding ones had actual ‘bodies’. Those were the ones that stood further back.

“Did you get anything from rendezvous V?” Minji’s voice came through your earpiece again.

“Trauma.”

“Y/N, I swear to-“

“No. We didn’t get past the main entrance area.” You heard Minji’s quiet sigh as she nodded in acceptance.

“We will make it work. Yubin, you’re up.”

“On it.” Yubin took the lead, You and Minji covered her to make sure none of those things got close to her.

You wouldn’t let it happen again.

You swore.

Yubin placed the D.C. device on the ground where the dead center of the area was. Even though the wind, sand, rocks, and whatever the colliding ones had mixed inside of them- radiation?- obstructed your view, Minji had been diligently keeping track of the GPS that marked the spot.

Yubin connected the wires and armed the device that would send a shock wave throughout the third collapse point and, theoretically rip the colliding ones apart beyond repair.

“All set.”

Yubin jogged back over to you. And for a second, you thought you saw Siyeon. You gasped, pointing your gun towards the colliding being nearest her.

“Siyeon! Run!” You screamed, firing a bullet at the colliding one that hadn’t done anything.

Yet.

“Y/N! No!” Minji yelled. Yubin raised her gun swiftly and began to shoot with Minji to fend off the colliding ones that had been set off by your mistake.

You began to shoot as well and realized that Siyeon wasn’t there after all.

Shit.

You mentally cursed yourself with each bullet firing off.

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.

You felt a tug on your arm, pulling you in the direction Yubin and Minji were going.

They were retreating.

Yubin armed the D.C. device but you knew you were surrounded for at least a mile.

You all knew.

The shock wave would obliterate your entire team as well if none of you make it past a certain point.

“Cover me!” Minji yelled, needing to reload. You and Yubin did as she said, fending any of the beings off that tried to come near her.

You were making it out of there. All three of you.

And you were going to find Siyeon and tell her everything you never could bring yourself to say.

You would make it up to Gahyeon, somehow.

“Y/N! Yubin! Run! Just run!” Minji grit her teeth, struggling to aim in every direction at once.

You and Yubin, and soon Minji, began to run, sprinting back towards what was called ‘the point of no return’.

“In the hatch! Go!” Minji ushered. You and Yubin took turns climbing down the hatch that you had originally entered.

It was dark, which meant it was safe.

Minji slammed the hatch shut and locked it just as quickly.

Yubin turned on the lights, illuminating the tunnel that led you there once she knew it was safe enough.

It was then you were able to see Minji’s face, her eyes boring a hole into your own, and her teeth were clenched to top it all off.

“What was that?! We had a plan! Why did you shoot?!” She raised her voice at you and for a moment, you noticed her fists clenching into a ball.

“I thought I saw Siyeon! She came back so I thought she showed up anyway even though she said she wasn’t-“

“What are you talking about?” Minji unclenched her fist, though her tone and facial expression hadn’t changed. She was still glaring at you, her face flushed with a shade of red, and a vein sticking out very faintly on the side of her forehead.

“Siyeon told us she wasn’t coming with us this time. She told us when I had barely come back from catatonia?” You glanced from Minji to Yubin. Only then did Minji soften her expression.

“No, she wasn’t. Yubin and I were both there with you- Alone.”

“Huh? But Yubin saw her! Remember? At the subway station? Siyeon was there!” You looked at Yubin, confusion throbbing in your head.

“And she was with me and Gahyeon at Maison!” You desperately added. Yubin shook her head.

“What are you talking about?” Yubin took a step back, staring at you as if you were a ghost.

“You guys are just messing with me! You literally spoke to her! And she spoke to you!” You were on the verge of panicking. The frustration built its way up and threatened to explode from within you.

“Oh, Y/N…” Minji’s mouth dropped into a frown. You felt uneasiness in the pit of your stomach.

“Siyeon died during the second collapse.”

The day your world stopped was a day you distantly remember. Not because it wasn’t worth remembering, but because it was too painful to remember.

You remember how it felt fighting alongside Siyeon, a little after the second collapse. The fear, adrenaline, even a little excitement as you were finally able to save her and protect her as she had with you.

Siyeon wasn’t a fighter but she sure did try. She stuck with you, the ‘strong’ one in the relationship.

You never felt strong, though. Any strength you showed, all originated from Siyeon.

Siyeon knew a lot of things.

But she did not know how strong she was.

You would’ve succeeded in protecting her if you had faster reflexes.

She wasn’t supposed to have been in the crossfire. She was supposed to distract, run, hide, and repeat.

Distract.

Run.

Hide.

Repeat.

But you were both cornered and separated from your team. Only momentarily, but it was enough time for the worst to happen.

You fended the colliding ones off from the two of you but that didn’t stop one from picking up a rebar and lodging it in yours and Siyeons direction.

You wished you could say you both dodged it in time. Not just you.

You wished you had jumped in front of her and protected her somehow.

You wished you had never met her.

No.

You wished you had met her in a better world.

“Siyeon, come on, stay with me! You’ll be fine!” You helped her onto a subway platform and hurried into a room that seemed out of place with the structure of the subway station.

Still, you had tried to get Siyeon through the door opposite of the way you two came in from. Siyeon tried her best, but she had already succumbed to the exhaustion and lightheadedness she felt.

She couldn’t do it.

“How many people survive wounds like this?” Siyeon struggled to get that sentence out, yet she still got it out flawlessly.

“Looks like you’ll be the first.”

You were dead serious too. A little in denial.

Or, fully in denial, but you believed it at the time. You weren’t losing her.

Siyeon saw the humor in that, even in pain, she managed to smile.

“I love you. You know that.”

You did but you weren’t letting her give up on herself.

“Sit with me.” Her voice was weaker than before.

“No. You need to get up. We are going to get to a hospital and you will get proper medical attention and… And… I’m not losing you!”

You didn’t care that your voice cracked or that the lump in your throat hurt from trying to suppress your emotions.

“Sit.” Siyeon repeated, weakly tugging on your hand.

You gave in. Of course you did. She had that effect on you.

“I’m not going to make it. I know you know this.” Siyeon tried her best to stay awake. She really did, and every second she spent trying to keep herself awake, the more she felt exhausted.

“I love you. Always have.”

You wrapped your arms around her, kissing her cheek while she was still awake to feel it. You began to sob, feeling her fall limp.

“Please don’t leave.”

No response.

“Please… Please don’t leave.”

You screamed, begging whatever higher power was listening to bring her back, make her okay, to somehow teleport her to a hospital.

“Y/N?”

In your despair from remembering a painful memory, you realized where you were. But you didn’t know what happened.

You were back at the apartment you shared with Siyeon, sitting on the edge of the bed and staring out of the window.

“What are you thinking about?” It was Siyeon. She walked around and sat in the empty spot beside you. “Better view than the room you shared with Minji, Yubin, and Gahyeon, right?”

You looked at her with tear-stained cheeks and more flooding down your face the more you looked at her. She was alive and healthy and it felt so real.

“It… Is better.” You muttered, the lump in your throat ached worse than it had moments before. “But it hurts.”

“You know I would never hurt you. Not intentionally.” Siyeon put her hand on your thigh with reassurance.

“You have hurt me.”

You wiped your eyes, standing up.

“You fucking died!”

Siyeon was taken aback. You knew she wasn’t really there. You knew it wasn’t her talking. Anything she said to you at that moment were words she’s spoken before.

Words you remembered her saying and words you knew she was saying to try and make you feel better.

She knew you. But you also knew her.

And it hurt.

You dug your fingertips into your scalp trying to appease the frustration you felt.

“Please calm down.” Siyeon sat where she had been, unflinching, but the concern in her voice said otherwise.

“No, Siyeon! You can’t just fix me and then leave me to fall apart again!” You were hyperventilating, the pain growing inside of you. Every feeling bottled inside had exploded within you.

It was unbearable.

“I told you, I never left. I was always here with you.” Siyeon moved from the spot on the bed and kneeled beside you, engulfing you in her arms.

As comforting as it was, it only hurt more because you knew she wasn’t actually there. Not physically.

“Why did you leave without me?”

No answer. She would never answer a question like that. Not with what it implied.

She would have wanted you to be happy, and outlive the colliding ones.

But you were you.

What other people wanted isn’t what you wanted. Not without her.

“I still love you.” You forced out, thinking it would be the last time you ever would see her.

Even if you knew her response, she would never know. You always had trouble sharing your true feelings. And when you did, it wasn’t often and it was only to Siyeon. No one else got nearly as close to you as she did.

But it didn’t make anything you said any less true.

Siyeon kissed your forehead. Not because she chose to, but because it’s what you remember her doing previous times you had broken down.

“I’m here. I will always be here.”

And she would hold you until you felt okay again.

“I miss you.” You babbled.

“I need you.”

Siyeon didn’t say anything. You wondered if it would hurt more or less if she did.

It was easier pretending she had left without a second word. You convinced yourself she just left for her hometown and didn’t tell anyone where.

Even though you were there to witness her last breath, you were in denial. It was easier.

“I don’t blame you for leaving.”

Maybe you did blame her deep down for leaving you the way she did.

Maybe she blamed you too.

It wasn’t your choice and it wasn’t hers either. It was just the way you two were brought together and pulled apart.

You felt freezing and heard the rapid fire of gunshots around you. Instead of your old apartment, you were in the center of the town you, ever so reluctantly, referred to as home.

Siyeon was no longer with you.

“Y/N!” Yubin sprinted towards you at full speed and pushed you behind cover as one of the colliding ones had detached its ‘arm’ and flung it at you before it reattached to its body like a boomerang.

You felt the fire radiating heat from the buildings around you. You wondered how the pouring rain hadn’t set them out yet.

Maybe in a minute, the fires would dissipate.

Maybe nothing was real.

The device.

You almost forgot about how Yubin had planted the D.C. device.

She must’ve set it off while you were shut off from reality.

“If you die, Minji will kill you!” Yubin helped you stand before raising her gun once again, “and trust me when I say I’m not joking!”

Yubin jogged away, shooting at any of the colliding ones that stood in her way. You looked around, realizing how many of the colliding ones there were that were left after the shockwave blast who were most likely retaliating.

You knew you at least had to pull yourself together. If not for Minji or Yubin, then Siyeon.

“Give them a reason to fear you.”

You checked the chamber of your gun, making sure you had a full round, then you began to fire.

“Welcome to Aurora! What can I do for you?”

You squinted at the name tag safety pinned to the barista’s shirt.

Yeosang.

“Yeosang?” You read out loud.

Yeosang slowly nodded in response. “Do I know you?”

You shook your head, stepping closer to the table he had begun cleaning before you had walked in.

“You do know a friend of mine.”

“Enlighten me.” He set down the rag, his eyebrows furrowed when you handed him your phone that had the leaderboards of the game he and Gahyeon competed against each other in, opened up on the screen.

“Oh. Odd eye! I haven’t played that in months.” He reminisced. “Gahyeon is your friend? I actually didn’t know her. I see she did beat my score though. Didn’t think I’d ever see the day.”

“What?”

“I’m not saying she was bad at the game, just didn’t think anyone else played much… Or that she played often.” Yeosang shrugged, handing the phone back to you before finishing wiping down the table he stood in front of.

“Do you still play?” You asked, pocketing your phone. Yeosang let out a small chuckle, “off and on. I’ll probably revisit it later, now that you mention it. Tell Gahyeon congratulations though.”

“Yeosang.”

He looked at you again, not yet used to being referred to by his actual name while working.

“Gahyeon… Gahyeon passed away.”

Yeosang froze as he wasn’t sure what to say. Especially not about someone he had only known through the leaderboards of the ‘Odd eye’ game.

“Oh… I’m so sorry.”

You stepped closer to where he had moved to. It was just the two of you in the cafe.

“If you decide to play again,” you paused, feeling a lump in your throat forming. “Please, don’t beat her score. It was the last thing she was proud of.”

Yeosang immediately gave you a thumbs up without a second thought, “Whatever your name is, you have my word.”

“Thank you.”

You left the cafe, the bell dinging as the door shut behind you. Whether he would keep his word or not, you trusted he would.

You walked through the streets as many construction workers and volunteers worked to rebuild the city after you, Minji, Yubin, and any volunteers from the militia had successfully- although very destructively, prevented the third collapse.

You took out the folded map from your back pocket and unfolded it to route the direction you needed to take out of the city and to the town Siyeon had once talked about.

Whether it was a town worth it or not, Siyeon used to live there before you two had met.

You read over the sticky note stuck to the map beside the circled location of the town you were headed for.

‘Bring back a souvenir - Yubin and Minji.’

It’s been years since the prevention of the third collapse. Years since you’ve heard from Yubin and Minji.

Not that they never tried reaching you, just that they were busy with other things.

You learned to come to terms with losing Siyeon, though you still have your moments.

Even years later, you never found love in someone else. Nor did you look for it.

As far as you were concerned, Siyeon was the only person you have and would ever love.

You walked out to your garden to upkeep your plants. It’s the only hobby you picked up as a coping mechanism that somewhat helped you.

You still bottled your feelings inside, not having anyone to talk to about them. Not like you could with Siyeon.

You watered your plants evenly and got carried away, lost in your own world. You almost didn’t notice the three shadows cast over you and your plants.

Curious, you turned around as you hadn’t had a visitor in a long time.

“Do you have our souvenirs?” Yubin grinned. She was the first to hug you.

Then Minji, who held onto you tighter than Yubin but for a shorter amount of time.

Minji glanced back behind her, “oh yeah. Look who came back.”

You widened your eyes, dropping the watering can which in turn caused the water to spill out.

Gahyeon stood behind Yubin and Minji. She looked a little older, as it had been years, but she was there.

Alive, but you noticed how she limped when she walked closer to you, sending a wave of guilt through you.

At least she was alive.

She beamed at you as if nothing had happened all of those years ago, throwing her arms around you.

“Missed me?”

#dreamcatcher #dreamcatcher x reader #dreamcatcher siyeon #dreamcatcher gahyeon #dreamcatcher jiu #dreamcatcher dami #dreamcatcher x siyeon #dreamcatcher angst #dreamcatcher imagines #holy fuck this took forever to edit

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