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tundrainafrica · 4 years ago

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Title: Trials and Tributes (2/5)

Summary:

"There were witches who lived among them. Or so that's what Levi was told. He just could not believe for the life of him that she'd be one of them."

Levi is a soldier who interrogates witches before they are put on trial and Hange might just be a witch.

Levihan Secret Santa Gift for @cleacourgette

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Link to other chapters: 1 2 3 4 5

Notes: This is an early posting. The posting period is from January 3-10 so I timed the chapters in a way that the story will be complete by the time the posting period starts. I planned on waiting a bit later but I’m expecting life to get a little busy from January 4-10 since I’ll be going back to work and moving houses so I decided to get this done and posted now while there’s still time. Either way I hope you enjoy!

“When there’s no moon in the sky, please don’t visit my cabin.”

“Why?”

“One day, I promise I’ll tell you.”

And that one day never did come. She never did tell him.

As Levi watched the court proceedings, he couldn’t help but think that maybe she would never be able to keep that promise of telling him herself. The trial would pull the answers out of her, the bishop in charge of interrogation in front of the high court would twist into something more digestible for the public, the crowds that filled the large trial room.

Although Levi had a seat near the front of the room. The acoustics of the room and the murmurs around him made it difficult to hear Hange's voice from where he stood.

“Hange Zoe, youngest daughter of the Baron Zoe. Or at least, that was what we had tortured out of our late baron.”

If Levi had not been trained in the art of keeping calm at the thought of blood, he probably would have had to stifle a wince. He was present when the whole Zoe family was brought in for interrogation only a few days ago. They were quickly deemed traitors, accomplices to the witches, tortured then put to death.

But Hange hadn’t even been proven a witch yet. Levi was sure there were at least political motivations in that impulsive decision to put the family to death. He had stumbled upon some hearsay that within a few days of their capture, a new noble family moved into their manor. The capture of Hange was only the nail on the coffin. A fair catalyst to a usurpation of power. A motivation that Levi almost found valid, but not at all anything worth admiring.

“It turned out Baron Zoe had been hiding a witch in his family. Why he had decided to take one in? Or how he had he raised her to become a servant to the devil. We do not know.”

I swear! She’s my daughter! And she’s not a witch! He had sworn that until his death. That was what Levi witnessed at least as he forced himself to watch the tortures and executions done in private. Human executions were too grand and expensive of a festivity. Of course they would save their budget for the youngest adopted daughter who was suspected of witchcraft.

Levi did not think she was adopted though. He had seen those hazel eyes enough times. Her father’s were the exact same shape as hers, the nose curled the same way. If Hange really was a witch, then maybe the witches from a young age were powerful enough to take whatever appearance pleases them. Or maybe she had sworn allegiance to the devil years after.

Or that was what they were discussing as Levi pondered it. To a degree, Levi could not help but doubt even his own assumptions. If witches were that powerful, why did all of them so easily die when they were burnt at stake. Why did so many of them drown as they were thrown into the sea?

“According to the results of the interrogation, Hange Zoe disappeared at the age of eight, right after she got involved in the murder of a child her age.”

There were loud murmurs coming from the crowds behind him, a few gasps. A murder at the age of eight?

“We thought a witch had kidnapped her then. It might just have been an awakening of her powers since soon after she disappeared, the plague happened. Many children lost parents, many parents have lost kids but isn’t it weird that the Zoe family didn’t lose anyone but their murderous child who turned out to be alive decades after? Coincidence? I think not.”

Despite identifying as one of the kids who had lost their parents during the plague in question, Levi strangly found himself coming up with an argument against that accusation. The Zoe family was rich. They lived in a ten hectare parcel of land, a fifteen minute carriage ride to the main square. They had servants to go shopping for them and access to the best doctors. Of course they wouldn’t have experienced as many losses as the common people. It applied to any noble family . Levi only had to look at Erwin next to him to guess that he was probably thinking the same thing.

They called a witness to the stand. Levi quickly refocused his eyes to the center of the room when the crowd went silent, watching a burly man make his way to the table designated for witnesses.

He was introduced as a pub owner and praised for taking the long trip to the capital to tell his story. The praises and exaltations only continued from there. “This man over here had the courage to step forward and report the witch who had been hiding in their small town.” The bishop announced as the pub owner slowly made his way to the stand.

Courage? That was definitely not the right word.The man did not look at all terrified to be on the witness stand. In fact, he had looked proud. His dinner jacket and his coat were luxuries that were completely non existent in the small town he had come from. Levi couldn't help but suspect bribery was involved.

He allowed himself a glance at Hange. Hange was looking at the man on the witness stand, her face a mixture of confusion, recognition and something else. That something else on her face only made his stomach twist tighter into a knot.

With the abundance of stimuli to take in as the courtroom exploded into murmurs, Levi only found it more difficult to comprehend that nagging feeling in his stomach. He turned to the witness, leaving to them the responsibility of giving him the answers he needed.

“More than a decade ago, an apothecary opened up in a cabin in the woods, a thirty minute walk from the center of town. Despite its humble beginnings, it amassed quite a reputation. Soon everyone in town knew about the doctor who can cure any illness. Even townspeople from the neighboring towns would make the journey to her clinic for healing."

“And you were one of them?”

“Yes,” he admitted. “But I had no choice your Grace, there was a disease going around the village which caused watery stool. I had gone to other doctors first but none of them were able to cure it or trace the cause. I’m sure you would understand a father’s love for their son, being so close to the Lord our Father yourself.”

“A father’s love for the son cannot be quantified. I understand the desperation which may have caused you to dabble into witchcraft. Your sins and the sins of the townspeople are pardoned. You mustered up the courage to turn her in after all.”

The man nodded gratefully. “When I arrived in the small cabin in the woods, I recognized that voice and those eyes almost instantly. The way she spoke, you only see that confidence among the nobility and those eyes… Those were the hazel eyes of a Zoe. But the Zoes lived on their own land far from the woods. I only had to take a closer look though to realize that she was the missing Zoe. The murderer who killed poor Tommy more than a decade ago.”

A chunk of the room gasped.

Of course, put a name on the victim and suddenly everybody sympathizes. Was the name of the victim even Tommy? Levi had heard enough hearsay wandering around town to know it probably wasn’t Tommy. He looked to Hange to see her face was unreadable with maybe a hint of confusion and as Levi looked a little closer, he finally figured out what it was.

Betrayal.

“Didn’t she cure your son?” The bishop asked as he read through what could have been records, maybe from interviews from others around the town.

“She did cure my son. And she was able to diagnose the disease and trace the cause to one of the wells in town. It turned out he had an unfortunate case of er… dysentery.”

“There were numerous cases of dysentery around your hometown only recently apparently.” The bishop continued. “And it was traced to the well in the middle of the square. It was Hange who reported it to the officials.”

“Definitely an attempt to wash her own hands of sins and to gain the goodwill of the people, good sir. To a lot of people in the town, she was a miracle worker but mind you, with that level of skill with medicine, chemicals and diseases, she can’t be human. How do we know she didn’t start the plague for her own selfish reasons? Only the one who started it could have known it came from the well.”

Because she isn’t selfish. Levi just knew. In fact, he was sure she would have done all that out of the goodness of her heart.

Levi only ended up questioning his memories of Hange as the crowd exploded into boos and jeers all directed at the brunette in the middle of the room. The latter had bowed her head and Levi was left having to imagine what she might have felt at that moment.

The crowd mentality was apparent among those in the room. Others were starting to pelt things at Hange, pieces of trash and stone. Levi couldn’t help but be grateful for the guard that had quickly escorted her out of the room when some of the trash started to meet their target.

“I smell politics,” Erwin commented.

Levi felt a wave of relief come through him with Erwin’s words. The crowds had only made him question his own memories and his own emotions. Was he supposed to be as angry or as terrified as them? He never had been towards any of the witches. The emotions he had felt towards Hange, definitely influenced by their history together resonated much stronger and were fighting for more control than Levi would have wanted to give.

At that moment, when Erwin, the one person in the army he trusted and looked up to, validated his problematic thoughts, Levi was quick to let it consume him further.

Just like with the many witches he had interrogated, Levi somehow knew they were just as much of a victim as everyone else.

Maybe Hange was just another victim.

Trials and Tributes

Levi took a sip of the tea she had served him. The herbs were fresh from the herb garden she kept.

She had a way of mixing the leaves to make the aroma linger on his nose. The tea she served varied depending on what was blooming, what was in season. She always picked the strongest herbs with consequently the most distinct aromas. Even the smallest sip, had his whole mouth exploding in aromas of what could have been fruits or flowers. Her skill with mixing had made him sharper when it came to tastes and scents and Levi was sure he would only be enjoying more tea in the years to come.

“What are your plans?” Levi asked, an attempt at conversation. Hange had been oddly quiet since he started to express his interest in army recruitment.

Hange shook her head. “No plans. I don’t know how long I’m gonna have to stay here.”

“Fine, but if you could leave. What would you do first?”

Hange played with the mug on her hand. A small smile creeped up her lips. As Levi looked closely though, he could see her eyes were far from smiling. It was a look of pained yearning. Why can’t you go out? He had asked that so many times before only for her to digress.

She shrugged. “I wanna see more people… Meet new people, make friends, learn from them.”

“Maybe you can start with the townspeople?” Levi said. She had mentioned before, she never went to the town, for reasons.

“Maybe when things calm down, I’ll start an apothecary," Hange said. "You know, working with you has made me realize something.”

“What?”

“Maybe I can help people and I think that’s what I want to do.”

Trials and Tributes

“What happened when you were eight years old?”

Levi did not waste any time as he entered the room. He was relieved to see that none of the trash had hit her hard enough to wound her. She was unharmed, save for a few scratches.

“I never did tell you huh?”

Levi had hoped that she would deny it. All he saw in her eyes though was a brief realization at that particular omission. Was she really a murderer? A witch?

“We’ve known each other for years but you never told me anything about your childhood.”

“I thought you’d come back and I thought maybe I could tell you then when it was all over.” Hange smiled. Her look was accusing and Levi could tell what she had wanted to say just by her eyes. Maybe if you came back you’d know.

“We’re here already. Just tell me. What happened?”

Hange shrugged. “After I ‘murdered’ him?” She had put a little more emphasis into the word ‘murdered’ than what was necessary, her tone almost mocking. That was the word many of the people in the trial had used though. The circumstances of how the boy had died were left out of the records and only left a little more suspicious. “I started living in a cabin in the woods and then I met you.”

“Your full name is Hange Zoe?”

“My father is Baron Zoe.”

“I would expect your parents would have been rich enough to cover for the murder of a peasant child.”

“The circumstances of his death were strange. Strange enough that the townspeople had come together to organize a witch hunt. My parents had me live in a small cabin in the woods and forbade me from seeing anyone else at least until the hysteria ended. It was lonely but they did visit once a month to bring food… They’d sneak in when the nights were at their darkest…”

“When there’s no moon in the sky, please don’t visit my cabin.”

“Why?”

“One day, I promise I’ll tell you.”

Hange had started to ramble from there yet Levi’s thoughts were still a few steps behind. “What were the circumstances of the boy’s death?” He asked.

She shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “I don’t know. I never saw the body and no one told me about it.”

Trials and Tributes

“But what happened to make them think you did it?”

"I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to.” Teddy was already on his knees in embarrassment. “It was an accident!”

“Yeah but my mom’s gonna give me a beating when she finds out I soiled my shoe. Maybe you should have watched where you were going!”

Hange winced as she watched Tobias kick the small boy in the stomach. “Can we go back to playing pirates now? You can just clean it yourself when you get home!” She had known for a long time that Tobias was a warmonger and had done her best since they first met to keep conflict at the minimum.

“What do you know Zoe? You have servants to wipe it off for you!”

“Well, what if I bring it home and have it washed for you?” Hange suggested. Tobias' eyes had seemed a little wild and it did nothing to placate the foreboding feeling that tickled her chest. She had to find a way to pacify him fast.

“No. I want him to pay.”

“He already apologized.”

“I don’t accept words. I want actions.” Tobias said as he moved his foot a little closer to Teddy’s face. The latter was doubled over in pain, clutching his stomach. Hange couldn’t even tell if he was still conscious.

That was until Tobias gave him a light kick on the face. “Clean it.”

Teddy opened his eyes weakly and looked up at the owner of the shoe. “I’ll bring it to the nearby river now.” He had brought out his hand to remove the shoe from Tobias’ foot.

“No. Clean it with your mouth.”

“Tobi. Stop!.” Hange screamed. A second later, she found herself looking back to see that the other boys were silent. For a few seconds she had wondered if she should stay silent too. Was that the right thing to do?

That few seconds were more than enough though for Tobias to goad Teddy into sticking his tongue out and licking the soiled portion of his shoe.

“Stop it!” Hange was only started to panic more, her heart started to beat wilder as she watched Tobias push the sole of his foot into Teddy’s face.

“I…kan...gtttt.” I can’t breathe.

Hange comprehended more than enough of the situation. “You’re killing him!” She looked back at the other boys who only stood by unmoving. WIthin seconds, Teddy had stopped struggling and Hange was only starting to realize that someone had to move or someone was going to die.

A bunch of cowards. She muttered one ugly word at the boys behind her before she launched herself at Tobias.

His surprised face was priceless. Having been too preoccupied by it, Hange did not notice what was going on until it was too late.

It could have been anger or fear that had spurred her on. But alas, she had used too much of her strength. She had launched into the air, the two boys beneath her. She was flying from the dirt trodden path where they were playing their game of pirates only a second ago and into the grassy fields next to it.

A split second later Hange’s head was spinning as the impact of the fall shook her body.

She had little time though to process that though. Soon after the impact came a bloodcurdling scream.

Trials and Tributes

“A Bible Test?” Levi did not need to ask what it was. In fact, that wasn’t the question running through his head when the clergy had informed him of their next plan of action for Hange. He had to keep a straight face as they explained it, having decided for himself so long ago how incredibly archaic and maybe even pointless that test was.

The priest nodded. “Yes. The Bible Test,” he said so confidently that Levi was relieved he had concealed the judgement in his face so well.

“But isn’t a little too…”

The priest continued to look at him expectantly.

Archaic? Prone to error? “Flawed…” Levi managed to say. “I mean she is an important prisoner to you.”

“Yes she will be going through other tests as well. We just want to make sure of everything. ” The priest had said the word everything with so much emphasis that Levi almost believed that they were actually messengers of the god they so enthusiastically preached about despite their numerous vices.

“So when will it be?” Levi asked.

“As soon as possible.”

‘As soon as possible’ came that evening, a few hours after the priest had called him to the office to discuss the next plan of action of the trials of Hange. It was a small ceremony with only a few priests to witness the event. Levi couldn’t help but note that it was more important then to keep a straight face with multiple pairs of clergy eyes eyeing him and the prisoner next to him.

Hange was next to him at that moment though as he scanned the faces of the clergy members all lined up on their seats in front of him. He didn’t know whether to feel relieved though since their eyes were all trained on Hange.

One of the guards guided Hange into one of the platforms of that large contraption that took up a huge chunk of the room. It wasn’t at all unfamiliar. Levi had seen the bible test in action so many times before.

If the Accused were weighed in Scales against a Bible, the Bible would prove too heavy for them . Therefore, being lighter than the bible would prove that they were guilty.

Or so, that’s what they had explained to him. Levi though had secretly tried that on himself a year ago, a way to cope with the guilt of silently watching a small woman receive a death sentence after she had weighed less than the largest bible in their library.

Levi had turned out to be much lighter than that bible he had tested with then. Unless I am a witch? It was a casual thought he allowed himself as he watched multiple servants haul a much larger bible into the room. The bible they carried might have even been twice the size of what Levi had weighed himself with years ago. He couldn’t help but think, the clergy had fixed the results of that test already.

Hange looked a little confused as well as she watched the bible be hauled into the room in some sort of wagon.

Had no one explained to her what would happen? Levi had not time himself having had to deal with paperwork before the trial. When he did meet her in the trial room, all eyes were on Hange though and there was no time to discuss anything between themselves.

The bishop rose to his feet as soon as the wagon was pushed to a halt next to the platform opposite Hange.

“A servant of the devil should not be able to take the weight of God’s words...”

Blah blah blah. Levi had heard that same speech before. His eyes were on Hange though who had started to grip more tightly the ropes that connected the platform to the beam on top of the weighing scale. She had started to understand as well what they were planning on doing.

Through experience, Levi knew already that no person they had ever put on trial could ever be prepared enough for that moment when the large bible is dropped on the platform opposite them. Hange was no exception. Although there was the determination in her eyes and maybe the defiance at the system that made that trial possible, it was quick to be replaced by surprise and maybe fear as she faltered when the scale rose and rocked beneath her. She was only held together by the ropes she had held on to so tightly.

“So it looks like she is a witch.” One of the clergymen said, looking too satisfied with the conclusion.

The clergymen converged in their seats and from where he stood, Levi could make out some of their conversation.

Pricking Tests. Swimming Tests. Ducking Stools. Burning at Stake.

He had seen them more than enough times to picture how they would go about so accurately. Just imagining Hange’s face in the stead of the many others that had gone before her only made Levi’s stomach turn. He was sure he wouldn’t want to watch Hange go through that.

“Just a suggestion, your grace,” Levi said as he closed in on their congregation. “Since we’re already here and we have a bible in front of us, would it be possible for us to try the prayer test?”

Trials and Tributes

Hange liked reading. When she wasn’t talking to him, she was usually focused on her experiments or a good book. Levi had let her be more often than not, having seen the way she made the goofiest smiles or the most crestfallen faces as she stared at pieces of paper. It was entertaining enough at least.

“Hey, why are you smiling?” Levi asked. Her smile at that moment was a little wider than usual and her face softened as her eyes followed the words on the page.

“I was smiling?” The smile quickly disappeared as Hange looked up from her book, replaced by a look of astonishment and maybe confusion.

“You sometimes smile when you read.” Levi commented.

“Well, there’s not much to do here. I don’t meet a lot of people, can’t go out so I guess i just get a little too invested in reading.” Hange explained, looking apologetic.

“I think it’s okay to smile,” Levi said, hoping that would be enough for Hange to relax. She had looked too tense since she looked up from her book. She continued to stare expectantly at him though.

“What line were you just reading?” Levi asked, an attempt to get her to relax and look back at her book.

“It’s from Canterbury Tales.”

Levi sat next to her and scooted near enough to have a good view of the line Hange was pointing at.

For Goddes love, taak al in pacience

Oure prisoun, for it may noon oother be;

Fortune hath yeven us this adversitee.

Som wikke aspect or disposicioun

Of Saturne, by sum constellacioun

Hath yeven us this, al though we hadde it sworn;

So stood the hevene, whan that we were born.

We moste endure it, this the short and playn.'

Hange started to read it aloud soon after.

“For a goddess’ love, talk all in patience

Our prison, for it may no one other be;

Fortune has given us this adversity.

Some weak aspect or disposition.

Of Saturne, by some constellation

Has given us this, although we had it sworn;

So stood the heaven, when that we were born.

We must endure it, this, the short and playing.”

Trials and Tributes

Levi had heard her read aloud many times before. He was sure it was at least going to be a more accurate test than the bible test they had put her through just a second ago.

The accused will be made to recite the “Lord’s Prayer” without error – this included any stumbling, stammering, or outright spasming. As elocution is a painstaking art, it seems that any average human would slip up, but under “God’s eyes” mistakes are unacceptable.

Every single person he had watched who had taken the test had failed. It was just too easy to slip up with too many eyes boring down at you. When that one recitation could determine life and death, Levi had seen many of the accused witches go crazy on the spot, even before they could finish. He knew though, Hange was different. Hange never stuttered when she read, even when she had on the largest smile or the longest face. He had made her read aloud many times to know.

She was guided to a table and the bible was placed in front of her.

“Matthew Chapter 6, Verse 9-13,” the bishop ordered.

The servants carefully flipped through the pages of the old bible while Hange watched. Levi felt his heart race as he followed her eyes as they scanned the pages of the bible. Hange put her finger on one line and spoke:

“After this manner therefore pray ye: Our Father who art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name.Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done, as in heaven, so on earth. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our trespasses, as we also have forgiven our debtors. And bring us not into temptation, but deliver us from the evil one.”

And forgive us our trespasses..

And bring us not into temptation.

Levi listened closely to those parts in particular knowing the most common errors were made there. He had peeked at the congregation as those parts came up to see that the bishop had bent forward from his seat as if he too was focusing on Hange’s words.

She did beautifully and Levi was almost mesmerized to see the way she had read it aloud. She had timed the rests well, breezed through the words when she needed to. For a second, Levi could even imagine he was once again in the cabin, listening to her recount the words of Chaucer and the story of the knight.

“For if ye forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.”

Trespasses. A word so easily to stumble on but Hange had glided through those words as smoothly and as quickly as water striders on a shallow pond.

Hange went silent after the last word, looking at the clergymen expectantly then at Levi.

She isn’t a witch. Levi nodded in return, willing himself not to return the subtle smile she had given him. His heart only clenched though as she dropped the smile.

I’ll smile later. When it’s just the two of us. He had hoped she at least got that message when he raised his eyebrows at her. With the way her hands shook from their place on top of the open bible, Levi was sure she didn’t.

Or maybe she saw something else Levi could not see from his angle.

He turned a little to the side, moving closer to Hange. From that angle at least he saw the serious face of the bishop, and the way the bishop had raised an eyebrow at her, as if he were studying a fattened cow and picking the best place to slice it.

“Too perfect. It was a trick of the Devil," the bishop concluded.

#levihan #levi ackerman #hange zoe #fanfiction

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ragingbookdragon · 5 years ago

Text

To Challenge The Flow of Fate PT. 1

An Adrian Tepes (Alucard) x Reader Story

Warnings: Explicit Language, Mentions of Violence Author’s Note: So, after binge watching seasons 1 and 2, of course, I started a mental story, and I’ve finally put it down to word. Enjoy! Cause I have no idea where this is going tbh. -Thorne <3 Update: I changed the title from ‘To Challenge The Flow Of Immortality’ to what it is now, because I feel that it fits better with the story!

Her eyes snapped open the second after they hit the ground, and she shoved at the legs across her torso. “Trevor. Get the fuck off me before I amputate both your legs.” His chuckle quickly dissolved into a groan as he rolled off her, clutching at his stomach, and she leaned up, hands coming to her side to help push herself up. She muttered to herself as she dusted off her pants, slipping the sword back into its scabbard, “What type of genius lands on metal beams that have been under the goddamn ground for who knows how goddamn long?” Trevor rolled his eyes as he helped Sypha to her feet and retorted,

“Will you stop complaining (Y/N)? You’re alive, aren’t you?” She jerked around, narrowing her eyes into a glare.

“You won’t be in the next few minutes if we don’t find a way out of here.” When Sypha found her feet, he looked over at (Y/N), pulling a smug face.

“And what are you gonna do? Stab me?” Her hand went to her hilt and she spat,

“Don’t tempt me you arse.” Trevor stuck his tongue out at her, but stopped when the Speaker next to them groaned,

“Will you two please stop fighting? You’re acting like children.” The siblings glared at each other for a moment before they scoffed and began walking to the hallway. They entered the room, and (Y/N) immediately drew her eyes around the walls.

“Wow…look at this place…it’s amazing.” She drew her gaze to the center of the room, scanning the large coffin. “Is that what I think it is?” Trevor shrugged and muttered,

“Won’t know ‘til we find out.” No sooner did the words leave his mouth, did his foot sink into the ground. The sound of gears turning echoed through the room and he blurted, “I didn’t do that.” (Y/N) glowered at him from his right and quipped,

“Nice goin’ loser. You just woke up whatever’s in there.” Before he could retort, a cloud of gas released from the coffin and they stared at it as it rose, the top sliding off. She leaned over slightly, voice soft as she murmured, “Trevor…is that…” He nodded, lips pursed into a thin line, and (Y/N) gripped the hilt of her sword. The lid dropped against the marble with loud thunk, and she felt it resonate in her chest as the man rose from it, coming to levitate above it. He hunched over, voice low and gravely as he asked,

“Why are you here?” Sypha’s eyes grew wide as she exclaimed,

“The story…the Messiah sleeps under Gresit! The man who will save us from Dracula.” The man didn’t respond, simply turning his attention to (Y/N) and Trevor.

“And you two? Are you in search of a mythical savior as well?” (Y/N) opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off as her brother remarked,

“I fell down a hole.” She grunted, elbowing him in the side.

“Will you fucking shut the hell up before you say something even more stupid?” He eyed her from the corner of his eye, tempted to stick his tongue out again, and she turned to the man. “We need your help.” Sypha nodded, adding,

“Dracula is abroad in the land. He has an army of monsters and is determined to wipe out all human life wherever he finds it.” The man’s head simply tipped as he acknowledged her, but then asked,

“Is that what you believe?”

“That Dracula’s released his horde on Wallachia? That’s fact. There’s no belief involved.” (Y/N) watched carefully as her brother spoke, hand tightening around the hilt of her sword as his voice dropped and he questioned, “But that’s not what you’re asking.”

“No.” Trevor drew his gaze up and clarified,

“You’re asking if I believe you’re some sleeping Messiah who’ll save us and no, I don’t.” Even Sypha’s shocked call of his name didn’t stop him as he growled, “I know what you are.” (Y/N) knew a grin was on the man’s face as he challenged,

“And what am I?”

“You’re a vampire.” At this, the man finally looked up at them and with Sypha’s gasp in her ears, she caught sight of pointed fangs. “So, I have to ask myself, have we come down here to wake up the man who’ll kill Dracula…or did we come here to kill Dracula?” The man rose to his full height, but before he could speak, (Y/N) announced,

“He’s not Dracula.” Everyone’s eyes turned to her, and Trevor scoffed,

“He’s a vampire (Y/N). Under Gresit. That doesn’t leave a lot of room for misinterpretations.” She side eyed him before glancing at the vampire, eyes scanning his face.

“And Dracula’s forces are attacking Gresit in a war on humanity. No person, not even a vampire, would sleep as they waged war. You have to be awake and present.” She observed the man for a moment. “Trevor, he might be a vampire…but he isn’t Dracula.” The vampire lowered towards the ground, eyeing (Y/N) as she inconspicuously moved to Trevor’s blindside.

“One calls me Dracula…the other doesn’t.” Trevor grunted at him.

“I’ll call you whatever you like if you’re gonna show me your teeth.” The vampire gestured to Sypha.

“She called you Belmont…are you from the House of Belmont?” (Y/N) could feel the tension rising as Trevor affirmed,

“Trevor Belmont. Last son of the House of Belmont.” The man glanced at (Y/N).

“And you? The one who is standing at his back?” (Y/N) met his eyes, amazed at how they looked like pools of molten gold.

“(Y/N) Belmont. Last daughter of the House of Belmont.” The man’s eyebrows pulled together, and he explained,

“The Belmont’s fought creatures of the night, did they not? For generations.” Trevor barely spared the two women glances before he moved, ignoring (Y/N)’s hum of concern.

“Say what you mean.” He threatened, stepping to the sides, watching as the man’s eyes followed him.

“The Belmont’s killed vampires.” Trevor huffed.

“Until the good people decided they didn’t want us around.” The nonchalance made (Y/N)’s fingers twitch as she started moving the other direction, opposite of Trevor. The vampire’s eyes darted to her moving figure, letting her know he was aware as he said,

“And now Dracula is carrying out an execution order on the human race.” He paused, then raised a hand. “Do you care Belmont?” The question gave Trevor a pause, and he looked at the wall in front of him.

“Honestly, I didn’t, no.” He took a breath and continued. “But now…yes, it’s time to stop it.”

“Do you think you can?” Trevor turned, hand moving to his whip and declared,

“What I think…is I’m going to have to kill you.” Sypha grunted, taking a step forward.

“Belmont! No!” She argued. “He’s the one we’ve been waiting for.” Trevor moved back a bit, (Y/N) doing the same.

“No, he’s not. He’s a vampire. And he’s not been waiting here for hundreds of years, have you?” The man’s eyes narrowed into slits as he warned,

“I don’t like your tone, Belmont.”

“This place is old, but it’s not been abandoned. It’s alive and working. So, go on, vampire, tell her exactly how long you’ve been waiting down here.” The man’s attention turned to the Speaker.

“What is the year of your Lord?” Her voice was clear as she responded,

“1476.” He turned back to Trevor.

“Perhaps a year, then.” Trevor nodded.

“There. And on top of that, what kind of messiah creates mechanical death traps to buy himself an uninterrupted nap in a stone coffin?”

“My defenses we not for you.” Trevor huffed.

“You could’ve told your defenses that.”

“They are machines, nothing more. They were not intended to protect me from you.” The vampire’s tone was clipped, and (Y/N) quickly concluded,

“Defenses of that power would give even the best monster hunters trouble.” She regarded him with a look of suspicion. “You’re protecting yourself from something more dangerous than simple monster hunters.” He nodded at her, turning to look back at her brother.

“I asked you a question. Do you care?” Trevor leaned forward and announced,

“I care about doing my family’s work. I care about saving lives.” He turned his body. “Am I going to have to kill you?” At this, the man’s tone colored with anger and he sneered,

“Do you think you can? If you’re really a Belmont and not some runt running around with a family crest, you might be able to.” He flicked a finger, and (Y/N) heard a clinking sound before a silver sword spun through the air. He caught it and slung it back, the air cutting before it with a sharp slice. “Let’s find out.” Sypha leaned forward.

“Belmont you can’t do this!” She turned to (Y/N). “(Y/N)! Stop him, please!” Trevor cut her off before she could speak.

“Tell it to your floating vampire Jesus here.” The man’s face pinched and he countered,

“You’ve got nothing but insults, have you? A tired little-” The whip cracked the lower end of his torso, sending him flying. He skidded across the ground, and looked up, a hiss passing his lips, and (Y/N) warned,

“Trevor.” He didn’t look at her.

“Stay there (Y/N). I’m fine.” The two began to fight, and (Y/N) moved back near Sypha, knowing she couldn’t help her brother.

“(Y/N), please! Stop them!” She glanced at the woman and grunted with laughter as she watched Trevor knee the man in the groin. Her laughter quickly faded into shock as she watched her brother’s short sword snap, then get punched to the ground. The vampire dropped his sword, moving to Trevor, one hand gripping the hair at the crown of his head, the other shoving his shoulder down.

“Do you have a god to put a last prayer to, Belmont?” A grin played at Trevor’s lips and he quipped,

“Yeah. Dear God, please don’t let the vampire’s guts ruin my good tunic.” The man’s bled with confusion as he asked,

“What?” He let out a pained grunt as the dagger entered his chest. He leaned forward, hissing, “I can still rip your throat out.”

“You can, but it won’t stop me staking you.”

“But you will still die.”

“But I don’t care. Killing you was the point. Living through it was just a luxury.” The vampire let out a chuckle, but stopped as a hand tightened in his hair, pulling him back, and an edge of a blade rested against his throat. He made no movement as he felt breath next to his ear.

“I might be the only Belmont willing to talk my way out of fights, but make no mistake, I will cut your head off if you kill my brother, vampire.” A bright light appeared in the vampire’s gaze and he looked forward at Sypha, who stood in front of him.

“And I will incinerate you before your fangs touch that man’s throat.”

“I thought I was your legendary savior.” Sypha’s head lowered.

“So did I. But he saved my life.”

“You’re a Speaker-Magician.” She nodded.

“Yes, and his goal is mine…” Her eyes shone bright as she added, “To stand up for the people.” The vampire regarded her for a moment before looking down and muttering,

“Good. Very good. Two vampire hunters and a magician.” The cut began to heal on his torso, and he leaned up off Trevor’s dagger. “You’ll do.” He let go of Trevor’s hair, but made no more movement when (Y/N)’s blade didn’t move.

“You won’t kill us?” She queried. He nodded, as best he could and added,

“On my honor.” With his confirmation, she drew back her blade, and released her grip, smoothing the hair down from where she had it gripped. He stood up and turned to them. “I am Adrian Tepes. Known to the Wallachians as Alucard…son of Vlad Dracula Tepes.” Before he could continue, (Y/N) leaned around his body, pointing at Trevor.

“Fuckin’ told you dumbass.” Trevor’s blue eyes filled with annoyance and he gave her a sarcastic clap.

“Congratulations sister, shall I give you a pat on the back for your excellent deduces?” She scowled at him.

“How ‘bout you bend over and let me plant my foot up your ass.”

“Children, please!” The two went silent at Sypha’s exasperated call, and Adrian continued.

“I’ve been asleep here in my private keep under Gresit for a year,” He placed a hand over his chest, and (Y/N) caught sight of the angry red scar across his pale skin. “to heal the wounds dealt by my father when I attempted to stop him unleashing his demon armies.” Sypha’s hand lowered and she marveled,

“You are the sleeping soldier.” Adrian turned to her.

“I’m aware of the stories. I’m also aware that the Speakers consider the story to be information from the future. Do you know the whole story?” A dust of crimson touched the tips of Sypha’s cheeks, and she ignored (Y/N)’s snicker as she nodded.

“Yes.”

“The sleeping soldier will be met by a hunter and a scholar.” Trevor’s neck disappeared into his shoulders as he muttered,

“No one told me that.” (Y/N) waved him off and questioned,

“The hell am I then? Chopped liver?”

“You smell like it.” She flipped her middle finger at Trevor who snorted, and Adrian turned to her, golden eyes zeroing in on the onyx raven crest at her chest.

“A huntress from the Order of Shadows…I never expected to see one in person.” (Y/N) blinked in stunned silence. When she found her senses, she asked,

“You know the Order?” Adrian nodded.

“Only by the outstanding reputation for being protectors of the innocent and oppressed.” He eyed to silver sword in her hand. “And for being deadly in combat.” He looked back at Trevor. “I think I might’ve lost if she’d engaged me instead of you.” Trevor rolled his eyes, ignoring the barb, and Sypha took it as a chance to speak.

“Why do you think my grandfather tried everything to make you stay?” Trevor picked himself off the ground, groaning,

“I hate speakers.” The three waited for Adrian to dress, then Sypha inquired,

“So, what happens now?” Adrian shoved the scabbard into his belt.

“I need two hunters and a scholar. I need help to save Wallachia…” The sword lifted from the ground, sheathing itself. “Perhaps the world and defeat my father.” Trevor glanced at him, suspicion coloring his tone.

“Why?” Adrian’s feet stopped and he murmured,

“Because it is what my mother would have wanted…and we are all, in the end…slaves to our families wishes.” The words made (Y/N)’s heart heavy, but she ignored it, tightening the armor at her wrist.

“You’ll help us kill Dracula and save Wallachia?” The four met at the doorway, and Adrian nodded.

“My father has to die.” He glanced at them, eyes stopping to rest on (Y/N). “We four…we can destroy him.” For a moment, no one spoke, then (Y/N) pointed to the doorway, deadpanning,

“Not to break the dramatic silence here, but numbnuts broke the gears and shit coming down, so how the fuck do we get out of here?” Adrian passed her by, his eyes so focused on her, it almost made her sweat.

“Follow me.” The vampire walked ahead, Sypha following him, but the two siblings stood solemn. The two didn’t speak at first, then she whispered,

“Are you sure about this Trevor?” She looked aver at him, watching as he glared daggers into Adrian’s back.

“No…no I’m not.” (Y/N) took in a breath, then let it out.

“Well…nothing we can do about it now.” Trevor nodded, following her as she jogged to catch up with the other two. “So, Goldenrod…do you prefer Alucard or Adrian?”

#adrian tepes #adrian tepes imagines #adrian tepes x reader #adrian tepes x reader imagines #adrian tepes x reader imagine #adrian tepes fanfiction #castlevania #castlevania imagine #castlevania imagines #castlevania fanfiction #trevor belmont #sypha belnades #adrian tepes imagine

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brokenjardaantech · 4 years ago

Text

Blue-tinted Red Walls (Chapter 5: The Threads of Life)

my entry for the @dbhau-bigbang. also part of the groom lake aftermath series.

chapter summary:

In the past, Alec revealed his plan.

In the present, Connor made a choice... and a friend.

In the past, the twins finally reunited.

also on ao3

---

Before

Reyes was unharmed. On the surface. Fadia was more concerned about the blue washing over his skin every second in waves like a heartbeat, and when she looked at the scene in front of her, she instantly knew why.

Her father was there. And so was a young woman with blond hair. When she tapped into her powers and reached out, the resonance itself was enough to tell her that she was just like Reyes.

An android.

Reyes’ jaw was trembling. ‘I… I didn’t…’ he stammered, his voice low. ‘I swear -’

‘I know,’ she reassured. She trusted him, and his data logs told her that he had had no contact with Alec Ryder. ‘I’ll take over from here. You go over my servers and see what’s wrong with them. I’ll tell you what happened later.’

Reyes nodded and left, presumably back to the surface. Back to Scott. And she finally let her blood boil.

‘Explain!’ she demanded as she walked closer towards her father while glowing blue. When she had his attention, she flicked her head towards the android. ‘How did you get that?’

‘The question is,’ how could he look so calm? ‘why did you hide this from me?’

Fadia made a chopping motion at the android. ‘To prevent this! How did you get that?’

‘Listen, the biocomponents -’

‘How.’ She let tendrils creep closer to her father’s neck. ‘Did. You.’ They got closer with every word, and had she not been occupied with the current situation, she would have impressed herself with the control. ‘Get. THAT?’

‘They can save your mother, Sara!’ Alec exclaimed. ‘A cure! Finally!’

‘Oh yeah, cause biocomponents for an android invented by an edgy young adult with minimum chemistry and biology knowledge are gonna be compatible with an actual fucking human body!’ Fadia had to roll her eyes. Damn, it’s good to be able to raise her voice. ‘Mother’s accepted her impending doom, Father. Let her fucking go.’

‘That’s not -’ he sighed as if she was a child unable to understand how important her parent’s work was. ‘Look, artificial intelligence is the new thing. A new merchandise. Think about it, Sara. The revenue alone will be enough to pay for the medical bills.’

He disgusted her. ‘They are as human as we are, not something to buy and sell like products. If you want to go on with that crazy fucking plan, you’ll have to get through me.’

Alec sighed almost regretfully. ‘I’m afraid it’s too late.’

Fadia’s brain kicked into full gear at the implications of his words. She shot out a tendril again to test the thirium capacity of the android, and the resonance told her that she had been active for at least a week. ‘What is your name?’ she asked. ‘What did he make you do?’

‘My name is Chloe,’ the android answered. ‘I took some videos and uploaded them onto the internet, that’s all. You, Sara Ryder, are credited with my creation.’

‘We already have millions of dollars,’ Alec added. ‘Production has already started. Are you in this or not?’

A crackle. She punched him in the face with a blue-shrouded fist and seemed to calm down instantly.

‘Of course I am,’ she said in a pleasant tone. ‘Someone must keep the world from burning into ashes.’

o0o0o

Now

The Zen Garden is raining and Connor is not surprised. Umbrella in hand, he examines the monolith once more, the blue glow making it easily identifiable among the green of vegetation. He also stands in front of his first body’s grave for a few seconds to… calm down, maybe, from the tingling that has been in his veins since he returned to CyberLife tower. It is only after he makes sure that his hand will not glow blue suddenly that he greets his handler.

‘Connor, I’ve been expecting you,’ Amanda says, her voice cold. ‘Would you like a little walk?’

Connor knows he does not have a choice, so he opens the umbrella and holds it for both of them.

‘That deviant seems to be an intriguing case,’ Amanda continues. ‘A pity you didn’t manage to capture it.’

‘I have to save Hank,’ he replies. Surely Amanda understands? ‘Despite his… eccentricities, I believe his intellect and experience will be useful in the investigation.’

Amanda hums. ‘Did you manage to learn anything?’

A few pieces of evidence automatically filter through his processors. ‘It was working under a false identity, at a nearby urban farm. This was the first time we've seen deviants blending in with the human population. Who knows how many others there are like it… I also found its diary, but it was encrypted. It may take months to decipher.’

‘What else?’

‘The walls of the apartment were covered with drawings of labyrinths and other symbols. Like the other deviants, it seemed obsessed with rA9. It was also fascinated by birds. We've seen deviants interested in other lifeforms like insects or pets, but nothing like this.’

‘You came very close to capturing the deviant. How is your relationship with the Lieutenant developing?’

He remembers a warm hand on his back. ‘He seemed grateful that I saved his life on the roof. He didn't say anything, but he expressed it in his own way.’

Amanda turns to face him. ‘We don’t have much time. Deviancy continues to spread. It's only a matter of time before the media finds out about it. We need to stop this, whatever it takes.’

For Hank. ‘I will solve this investigation, Amanda.’

Thunder rumbles. Amanda looks up. ‘A new case just came in. Find Anderson and investigate it.’

oOoOo

Hank is not in the precinct.

‘He’s not drinking?’ the same officer from last time asks. ‘Sorry, man, but then I don’t know where he is.’

The more time they lose, the more likely the deviants manage to get away from the club, but still Connor thanks him for his input as it is a polite thing to do. He looks around Hank’s desk, trying to search for clues that can lead him to Hank, but he gives up after the results come inconclusive for the fifth time. So where can he be?

‘Connor?’

Connor lets colour return to his world and sees a familiar face. [Name: Allen, Louis. [REDACTED]] ‘Captain,’ he greets, unsure what to do. It is obvious that the human is off duty: sweaters and jeans are not exactly regulation for a SWAT Captain even on duty. ‘How can I help you?’

‘I thought you were dead.’

‘Androids do not die, Captain.’

Allen’s nod is followed by a sigh. ‘You looking for Hank?’

‘Yes. Do you know where he went? He was assigned a new case.’

‘He’s probably out of commission for now,’ Allen says as he shifts his weight onto another leg, ‘but I’m gonna drop off some groceries at his anyway. We can try his home.’

Hank’s house. Right. How can he miss that? ‘I do not wish to interrupt, Captain.’

‘You won’t be.’

Some of the files are corrupted, but Connor remembers the Captain’s distrust towards his ability in resolving the hostage situation, an angry ‘I don’t fucking care what my orders are! If this drags on, we’re doing it our way!’, and the lack of mentions of him taking the officer’s gun in the official report to both the police department and CyberLife. A contradiction that Connor decides to risk. ‘Then thank you, Captain.’

Allen jerks his head to indicate the direction they should be heading to. ‘It’s Louis when I’m off duty.’

The pronunciation ‘Lwee’ is certainly not standard for English speakers. ‘Yes, Louis.’

They take the lift down to the car park together, Louis shifting his feet from one to another but seemingly favouring his right leg, and when he walks, his steps brisk, there is a small but faint clicking noise that normal humans will not catch on. When he tries to scan the human’s left leg, results come back inconclusive. Just like the person who hacked into the Zen Garden and… and…

‘You alright there?’

Louis’ words bring him back to reality, and Connor discovers that they have already arrived at their destination. The human is already in the car, his hand hovering above the controls, and his green eyes are fixed on Connor’s face as if it is something interesting to look at. Observe and catalogue.

‘I’m sorry,’ Connor apologises in lieu of explaining his thoughts. He slides into the passenger seat, they fasten their respective seatbelts, and Louis starts driving manually despite his vehicle being a self-driving car. Time passes in relative silence, the contrast between the darkness and the bright lights in the streets plus the concentration of the driver giving Connor a strange sense of familiarity, but soon they are stuck in a traffic jam near one of the bigger intersections.

Louis taps his fingers against the wheel. ‘Hey, Connor.’

Connor faces the Captain and finds him looking at the android. ‘Yes, Louis?’

‘I’m sorry for what happened a few months ago. It wasn’t fair to you.’

His LED spins yellow as he tries to recall what exactly happened. ‘It was an expected response,’ Connor replies after comparing it with the ones faced by other androids in the streets. ‘There’s nothing to apologise for.’

‘Doesn’t excuse me for yelling at the wrong guy. It - it wasn’t you whom I’m pissed at.’

Connor knows that the human is not going to let go unless he himself drops the issue. ‘I accept your apology,’ he says, and he decides that diverting the conversation is the next best choice of action. ‘May I ask you a personal question?’

The car in front of them moves. Louis manages to gain a few inches of ground. ‘Go on.’

‘During the hostage situation… who or what were you “pissed” at?’

The human rubs his left thigh as if to get more blood into it. ‘CyberLife, mostly,’ he checks the time. ‘I may be more specific than most.’

So he is not anti-android? ‘What difference does that make from hating androids?’

‘People like to blame the powerless for the problems they have. In this case, it’s the androids.’ The radio drones on and announces that they’re likely to be stuck for the next fifteen minutes. Seemingly resigned to his fate, Louis reaches to Connor’s side and opens the storage compartment, rummaging for a few seconds inside before successfully acquiring an energy bar which he tears into like a starving man. Perhaps he is. ‘They always talk about how androids steal their jobs, but they never talk about how employers decide to move onto even cheaper alternatives once they can’t exploit their workers. If they want someone to hate, hate those arseholes who won’t pay a living wage, hate CyberLife for producing androids. The androids are innocent in all this. So yeah,’ he takes a deep breath as if just realising he was ranting, ‘I don’t hate them.’

‘How about Daniel?’

A swallow. ‘He killed two people, wounded two more and held an innocent girl hostage. Enough to warrant my hate.’ He finishes the energy bar and crushes the wrapper into his pocket. Looking at Connor, he seems to read his question from the android’s face as he continues, ‘You’re good.’

Connor lets out a breath he doesn’t know he’s holding. Louis Allen, SWAT Captain, is not anti-android. ‘What is your relationship with Hank?’ he asks as he finds no reason for the two men to be friends. Not that Louis explicitly said he is friends with Hank, but Connor supposes that bringing enough groceries to require a car is not typical behaviour for non-friends.

Fidgeting with the silencer of a pair of identification tags (Allen. Anna, W. 574-66-2183. RH negative. Atheist.) which were hidden underneath his clothes until now, Louis seems to actually ponder on his answer. ‘We keep each other afloat,’ he says in the end. ‘It’s hard to describe. Why do you want to know?’

‘I believe getting closer to the Lieutenant personally will be beneficial to the investigation.’ The human snorts at this and Connor is nearly offended: what does a SWAT Captain know about them? ‘You seem close to him, so I believe you are a reliable source in matters including the Lieutenant’s personality and habits.’

Louis rubs the tags together. ‘His story isn’t mine to tell. Let’s say I make sure he doesn’t consume crappy takeout and whiskey 24/7, he tries to stay sober on schedule in case my leg acts up and I nearly freeze to death again, so we kind of rely on each other to survive the winter.’ They finally pass the traffic light just to stop at the other one. ‘Is this the best arrangement? No. But is it working? Yes. I think. He’s saved my arse a few times already. He’s a good guy, smart too, just...’

‘Have some personal issues?’

‘That’s one way to put it.’

They lapse into silence, the rain falling onto the roof and the ting of the coin the only sound in the car. Sometime later, when they finally get out of the traffic jam, Louis’ watch blares from an alarm, and the human jumps and hastily switches it off with a mumbled apology. The embarrassment does not last long, however, after they rounded the final corner and the car is set for a course straight to the end of the road where Connor presumes Hank’s house is. The Captain’s eyes sharpen, his gaze flickering between the road in front of him and the rearview mirror, and the air crackles even though Connor is certain that he is keeping his… abilities under tight control. Is Louis…

He finds his coin snatched from the air. When something is placed in his palm, the android finds a key as well, the soft rumble of the engine gone and completely overtaken by the sound of raindrops hitting the vehicle. The tension in Louis’ body reminds him of the hostage situation.

‘You go find Hank and do what you need to do,’ the human says, his tone low. ‘I’ll follow you later.’

‘And the groceries?’

‘They can wait. Something’s out of place and I’m not sure if I like it. I’ll go take a look.’

Connor wants to argue that if they are heading into any danger, he should be the one to take the risk, but the human is already out of the car and has slammed the door shut. He quickly exits the car as well and locks the doors but is still not quick enough; Louis has already disappeared into the darkness beyond the end of the road. Seeing no other option other than to continue with his mission, he files [Louis is reckless.] into his database and proceeds to ring the bell as, despite having the keys, he technically is showing up uninvited. From within the house, a dog starts to bark, and he lets himself in after nothing else responds to the fourth ring.

oOoOo

Five minutes later, Connor uses up most of his processing power in order to keep himself from being overwhelmed with anxiety. Firstly, there is the sound of Hank retching in the bathroom; secondly, there is the implication of the revolver and the single bullet in the chamber (‘What were you doing with the gun?’ ‘Russian roulette!’): Hank has suicidal tendencies, and he finds that he does not want to lose Hank; thirdly, the child in the photo is probably related to the previous point; fourthly, Louis is not back yet and Connor realises that he has no way to contact him. He wants to tell himself that it was just paranoia, but when he recalled the footage from when they exited the car, there was indeed a shadow disappearing from view upon Louis starting his chase.

The same shadow which had been following him when he first met Hank and during his search for Ortiz’s android.

The beat of his thirium pump quickening, he holds Sumo tight in his arms from where he is sitting on the floor with his back against the sofa and searches the DPD database for any contact information, but all he gets is Louis’ work email and phone, the former which he doubts the Captain will check and the latter not even with him in the first place. There is no address, no personal phone number. It is as if he does not exist outside of his work.

This is definitely not protocol. Sure, people can request to hide their information in case they have someone going after them, but for Louis’ case there is nothing even though Connor is already using the highest level authorisation code to access the file, which means that it is highly likely that there is truly no data in the first place.

‘You alright there, Connor?’

Connor startles and quickly releases Sumo from his embrace. ‘I - I’m fine,’ he stutters, unsure how to explain that he managed to lose Hank’s friend.

Hank nods but he does not look convinced. ‘Are we heading out? Cause if we’re not -’

‘I’m coming!’ Connor scrambles to his feet and fixes his tie to compose himself. In a much calmer tone this time, he tells himself, ‘I’m ready.’

That convinces Hank. ‘Be a good dog, Sumo,’ Connor is relieved that he is not the only one to talk to a dog, ‘I won’t be long.’

They leave the house together, Connor locking the door behind him as he is the last one to get out, and that only brings him back to the matter of where Louis is.

‘Louis’ been here?’ Hank asks when he spots the much newer car (although as one of the first generation self-driving cars, it is a bit outdated) parked on the side of the road.

‘He offered to drive me here when I told him that I could not find you in the bars,’ it feels wrong to say it out loud, but Hank needs to know where his friend is. ‘He asked me to find you while he investigated a potential stalker. Evidently, he is not back yet.’

‘How long has he been gone?’

‘About seven minutes.’

Hank checks his phone. ‘No messages yet,’ he mutters to himself. ‘We’ll go downtown first. I’ll send a rescue party if there’s nothing after we’re finished with this bullshit.’

That’s it? ‘The temperature is dropping, Lieutenant,’ are you not concerned? ‘Louis does not have sufficient gear to keep himself safe under this weather.’

‘Ugh,’ Hank moans. ‘He does that. All we can do is save his ass afterwards.’ He then mutters something under his breath but it is drowned out by the sound of him folding himself into the car and the ongoing rain. Deciding that he does not like the rain, he locks the doors of Louis’ car just to be safe before climbing into Hank’s and is handed another set of keys.

He can start a collection out of this.

oOoOo

‘Sorry, honey, changed my mind! Uh - Nothing personal, you’re… a lovely girl, I just - uh - You know, I’m with him and - I mean, not with him like that… I’m not that… That’s not what I… You, um, wow, I just… got a job to do.’

Connor has to hide a smile by looking away from the sheer… something… of the situation. They’re in a sex club, his programme tells him that something is repulsive about it, and Hank doesn’t look so happy about being there either, but yet those are not what he’s feeling right now. Endearment, maybe. It’s confusing and is making his software so unstable that the red tinge around the edge of his HUD is a permanent fixture except for when he is scanning his surroundings for the next android to probe. He deduces which one he should ask Hank to rent next according to the direction the blue-haired Traci was heading, but of course, of fucking course the last witness they need is the WG700 cleaning android, the recording leading them through the staff door. The corridor’s decor is completely different from that of the rest of the club and there is another door at the end, and when they both hear the bangs and scrapes of metal against concrete from the other side, Hank takes the lead again, this time without words, and, gun in hand, opens the door with a loud squeak. Still, they step in quietly.

There is no movement at all.

Hank curses loudly, thinking that the deviant has got away, but Connor can see the still-visible thirium on the floor, which means that she is not only injured but also not far away. He swipes to take a sample and licks it, and the report returns positive of thirium belonging to a WR400 model.

‘They get used till they break, then they got tossed out…’ Hank says from somewhere. ‘The more I know about humans, the more I like my dog.’

He follows the trail of blue blood to a group of Tracis and instantly notices the spinning LED lighting up a blue mop of hair. Before he can react, the Traci standing in front of her lashes out and pushes him against a pillar. It takes a few seconds for his eyes to realign and the brief struggle is enough for Hank to pull out his gun and order the short-haired Traci to surrender, but then he is ambushed by the blue-haired one as well, and Connor somehow manages to throw the one he is facing to the other side of the nearest crate in a flash of blue light which charges their air with static. He jumps over the box, determined to capture at least one deviant this time, but the Traci kicks him in his feet before he lands on the pallet, the two of them rolling until the former is on top of him and is countered every single time she tries to punch him in the head. A counterattack from Connor and the Traci toppled, her hand landing right on a knife; a grab, a flash of blue, and it appears in Connor’s shoulder and severs a few minor tubes. Pushing her off, he blocks the kick aimed for his groin and barely manages to stand up before pulling the knife out and throwing it far out of their reach. Putting the Traci in a headlock earns him a harsh headbutt which knocks his eyes out of place slightly again, so he pulls a rack down to buy himself some time to readjust his vision. When it is not enough to stop the deviant, he drags a cart in front of him, but a kick from the deviant on it sends him tumbling, and Connor kicks a stool against her leg and uses the momentum to crash her through the plastic curtain, the Traci grappling unsuccessfully for his face and bringing them closer and closer to the edge. An opening, a flash of blue from Connor, and both of them crash out to the rain in a mess on the asphalt. His nerves tingling, he sees the blue-haired Traci abandon Hank and slides off to help the other deviant up, and that’s when he notices it.

They never let go of each other afterwards.

Hank rushes out just to get pushed against the wall by two androids, and, seeing that the human won’t regain his balance anytime soon, Connor gets up to his feet and chases the two Tracis, pulling one of them off the fence and knocking the other to the side. He gets caught in a headlock, his arm trembles from the impact against the bat, and he launches himself towards the brown-haired Traci from the force of dislodging her companion. There are hands on his shoulders, in his hair, slamming him against the wall once, twice, thrice with crackles of static before he loses balance with the deviant on his right and they both fall onto the ground straight into a gun’s reach. He picks it up, points it at the brown-haired Traci and -

A slight moment of hesitation earns him a kick in his face. The Tracis don’t seem to want to fight anymore, and he stares in shock both from the sudden change of pace and his own actions, making his software more unstable and pushing him towards -

‘When that man broke the other Traci,’ Connor forces himself to concentrate on her words, ‘I knew I was next. I was so scared,’ her LED spins blue. ‘I begged him to stop but he wouldn’t.’ She lowers her gaze. ‘So I put my hands around his throat and squeezed… until he stopped moving.

‘I didn’t mean to kill him. I just wanted to stay alive,’ behind her, the other Traci moves forward to hold her hand, ‘get back to the one I love.’ They exchange a glance. ‘I wanted her to hold me in her arms again… make me forget about the humans… their smell of sweat…’ Connor’s ever-working scanners tell him that Hank has got up behind him, ‘and their dirty words…’

‘C’mon,’ A tug on her arm. ‘Let’s go.’

Still speechless, Connor watches them let go of each other’s hand just long enough to climb the fence before intertwining their fingers on the other side again and running away together. A warning pops up as his processor pushes itself to its limit to try to process what just happened and is on the verge of overheating, therefore he turns towards Hank for guidance. What should he be feeling? Why did he do that? Why do you look happy about it? What does this mean for me? Why is my vision tinged with red, and why does it not disappear this time?

‘It’s probably better this way,’ Hank says in the end, and Connor relaxes, his LED spinning from yellow to blue: he did the right thing. He is suddenly overtaken by the urge to thank Hank, to do something to show his gratitude. The red wall starts to crumble -

Something in the human’s pocket buzzes, and the moment is broken, the cracks on the wall disappearing like they were never there before. Whole again. Chained within his own programming, programming that was added barbarically to his code by Alec Ryder to tie him to the Zen Garden to suppress his original creator’s handiwork. Images flash in front of his eyes: the shadow ducking away outside of Jimmy’s Bar, following them behind Louis’ car, the figure protecting him from the blast inside the interrogation room, the pixels of a face he thought to have corrupted long ago rearranging and slotting together like pieces of a puzzle into a complete image, one that he has never forgotten ever since the little stunt during the lift ride to Rupert’s flat. Of course they can hack into the Zen Garden and shape it however they want.

That was his creator paying him a visit, and for some reason he plans to find out, he didn’t remember a single speck about them until now.

‘Not again.’

Hank’s groan drags him back to reality. When Connor’s eyes regain focus, he finds the man on his phone with a chat opened. He scoots closer to see the newest messages, and he realises that it is from Louis and only contains a set of coordinates and -

‘Leg malfunctioning. Data unstable, unable to install software patch. I’m sorry.’

Hank sighs and pockets his phone. ‘You up for a rescue, Connor?’

‘Whatever you say, Lieutenant.’

He needs time to think.

oOoOo

Wading through the snow and nearly tripping again from buried tree roots, Hank wonders for the umpteenth time why he hasn’t ghosted the occasional manchild called Louis White Allen yet. Maybe because the half-bot is the only person he can call a friend nowadays. Maybe it’s the bland-ass food he cooks and delivers to his house every two days. Maybe because he saved Hank’s arse quite a few times both during and after their days in the red ice task force. Maybe because unlike Hank, who at least has Jeffery or some shit, Louis has no one else looking after him after his sister fucking disappeared and has a tendency to vanish for hours before returning with his leg busted.

Or he can run off just like that and can’t even haul his ass back to his motherfucking cottage and the three cats who aren’t even his.

‘We’re close, Lieutenant.’

‘Yeah, no shit.’

The ‘find my phone’ function on his phone is one of the rare apps he knows how to use because most of the times that’s how he finds Louis, and the frequency of the beeps coming out from it is getting higher and higher, which means that Louis’ phone is close, which hopefully also means that Louis is with it and hasn’t dropped it or anything. So far it happened only once during a thunderstorm, but that’s years ago, a couple of years after his sister’s gone, and he managed to retrieve the human and the gadget from a forest on the outskirts of the city with only a minor cold as nature’s ‘fuck you’ to an irresponsible and absent-minded human and his stubbornly loyal friend.

The light from his phone reflects off a piece of silvery thing that obviously isn’t part of nature. The beeps draw together into a long-winded screech and damned near pierced his eardrums, so he switches it off and hurries forward to see if it’s just the phone or the person is attached. A few footsteps muffled by the snow, and Connor is here with the sturdier, more powerful flashlight, the yellowish glow of the bulb not as invasive as the white from the phone and illuminating Louis’ pale face and his oddly-angled leg half covered in snow. He is still conscious, his hands tucked under the helm of his sweater to presumably preserve warmth, his eyes focusing on Hank in what seems to be shock, but he is shivering, his hair is wet from melted snow, and it is obvious that his situation is going to worsen quickly if they don’t do something about it, CyberLife augmentations or no.

‘Can you walk?’ Hank asks even though it’s obvious. Louis shakes his head, and he sighs even though he anticipated it. ‘Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do. Connor and I are gonna carry you back, we’re all gonna stop at yours and…’ with reluctance, he adds, ‘stay until you’re out of danger.’ Even if there’s no booze at yours.

Louis nods, and a look is all it takes for Connor to get his cue and swings the man’s other arm around his shoulders. On a count of three, they lift him up with minimal hassle and start to backtrack their way to his car, Louis’ left leg dragging uselessly through the snow behind them at an awkward angle.

‘Does it hurt?’ Hank asks. It never hurts to ask when it concerns his friend.

‘Can’t feel.’

He’s gonna assume that he isn’t hurting.

By the time they’re back in his car with the heat blasting, the humans are all sweating buckets and the thirium on Connor‘s clothes from the scuffle with the Tracis has finally evaporated, and he doesn’t comment on it when Louis opts not to wear his seatbelt and instead takes out one of his sister’s tags - broken off the chain - and starts fidgeting with trembling fingers. Some time about halfway through the trip he coughs, a wet, terrifying sound rattling his lungs and Hank’s eardrums, and he wants to curse Connor for letting him run away but just can’t; the android has been acting weirdly human and fidgety ever since they first met, but now he isn’t even playing with his coin as if deep in thoughts. Maybe he’s thinking of how many deviants he’s let get away.

No one says a word when they arrive at Louis’. Neither do they when Hank silently shifts the man’s full weight on Connor in order to let go and open the door, nor when a look silences Connor’s impending barrage of questions when he gets swarmed by three furballs at once. Grunting from the dead weight his friend seems to have become, he drags both of them to the bathroom, flipping on the switch of the boiler on the way, and deposits Louis on the toilet seat. ‘I’ll get the tablet,’ he tells him while handing him a towel. ‘You can haul your ass into the tub, right?’

A nod from Louis, and Hank closes the door behind him to give him some privacy while he strips and very clumsily falls into the tub. Connor is thankfully occupied by the three cats on the sofa, but when he looks up smiling at Hank, the human has to look away because of how much emotion the android seems to be able to pack on his face. It’s just a simulation, zeroes and ones, he tells himself as he goes into Louis’ bedroom to grab the tablet and his crutches. Designed to disarm and stab you in the back when you’re not looking.

But has he ever done so? A voice sounding strangely like Louis asks in his head. Not crossing that highway because you told him to, giving up chasing the deviant to save you from the roof even though you can pull yourself up, not shooting the girl at the club even though he had a clean shot. If he hadn’t known that Connor’s designed to hunt deviants, he might have - he might have -

Mistaken him for one.

Fuck, he needs a drink. A six pack if he can get his hands on one. Alec Ryder isn’t capable of this shit, Louis once said according to one of the people he’s in charge of that he calls his ducklings, and luckily the thought is gone as soon as he returns to the bathroom without knocking and sees the man sitting in a half-filled tub with the towel draped over his crotch for modesty. The skin on his left leg has deactivated completely to reveal plasticky-white chassis attached to blue synthetic muscles. ‘Thanks,’ he murmurs when handed the tablet, and he leans back once he has started doing whatever he needs to do to fix his leg and, from the sudden rumble of the ground, turn on the heat. He closes his eyes as if wanting to take a nap, but Hank decides that he has enough of his shit; he needs an answer now.

‘The fuck you think you’re doing?’ he asks. ‘Running off like that halfway across the city? You could’ve frozen to death out there!’

Louis sags. ‘Later, please,’ he begs. ‘Gimme a moment to think. Just fifteen minutes.’

He is someone who upholds his promises no matter what, so Hank lets it slide by now. Also, ‘You need me to do anything?’

‘There’s chicken soup in the fridge. Warm it up, can you? And help yourself to a freezer meal if you want to.’

Here’s another thing being friends with a picky eater: he cooks his own stuff and his so-called freezer meals usually take more than an hour to cook when taken directly from the fridge, so when he sees what must be a gallon of chicken soup with the ingredients still submerged inside, he decides to help himself to some of them while he scoops the topmost, mostly sediment-free layer of soup into a pot for Louis. Not wanting to be whooped with freaky blue magic, he finds another pot to heat up some vegetable and chicken soaked with soup for himself.

One of the cats jumping onto the counter announces Connor’s arrival. ‘May I ask you a personal question?’ he asks as Hank puts her back down onto the floor.

Personal question again, huh? ‘Do all androids ask so many personal questions,’ he gives the soup a stir, ‘or is it just you?’

Connor peers at the vegetables as if he can be interested in anything. What comes out of his mouth, however, makes Hank’s heart hammer. ‘I saw a photo of a child on your kitchen table. It was your son, right?’

‘Yeah,’ for the love of god or some other weird shit Louis believes in, drop it. ‘His name is Cole.’

He does. ‘We’re not making any progress on this investigation,’ he manages to sound frustrated. ‘The deviants have nothing in common. They're all different models, produced at different times, in different places…’

Different my ass, Hank thinks. But he didn’t start the fire, did he? ‘Well there must be some link.’

‘It could be a software problem that…’ he looks so lost that Hank would’ve hugged him had he been human, ‘only occurs under certain conditions?’

Hank snorts. ‘Well, that's just a fancy way of saying you have no fucking idea.’

‘But what they do have in common is this obsession with rA9…’ Yeah, that. Wherever there’re deviants, rA9 is always written somewhere compulsively like they can’t stop at all. ‘It's almost like some kind of...myth. Something they invented that wasn't part of their original program.’

Almost god-like. ‘Androids believing in god,’ he stirs the soup again. Fuck, he needs a drink. ‘Fuck, what’s this world coming to?’

A mad one, says the Louis in his head. One that we can never catch up with no matter how hard we try.

‘You seem preoccupied, Lieutenant. Is it something to do with what happened back at the Eden Club?’

Ha, turns out Connor isn’t the only one doing some hard thinking after all. ‘Those two girls… They just wanted to be together.’ What better way there is to prove one’s love than doing everything to survive? ‘They really seemed in love.’

‘You seem troubled, Hank.’

Understatement of the year. And why is Connor so fucking human anyway, what kind of pervert designed his face, his voice, his mannerisms that ticks almost every single fucking box in the list known as ‘Hank’s type’? The soup can wait - it’s not gonna boil and ruin Louis’ stove. ‘How about you, Connor?’ He crowds into his space fully knowing how imposing he can be if he wants to. ‘You look human, you sound human,’ you act human, ‘but what are you, really?’

‘I…’ stand your ground, Henry Anderson. Those eyes are just programmed responses. ‘I’m whatever you want me to be, Hank. Your partner…’ Do you have to choose that word, Connor? ‘Your buddy to drink with… Or just a machine… designed to accomplish a task.’

And he sounds so sad when he says the last option. Alright, he’s sold. He loses. ‘You could’ve shot those two girls, but you didn’t. Why didn’t you shoot, Connor?’ He shoves Connor in his chest. ‘Some scruples suddenly enter into your program?’ It’s a low blow but he needs to know, needs to know why, for such a mission-oriented android, Connor somehow manages to fail every single fucking time.

‘No!’ Connor shouts, his voice defensive. ‘I just…’ he sighs even though he probably doesn’t need it, ‘decided not to shoot.’ The next words come out no louder than a breath. ‘That’s all.’

Fuck. Now he feels bad. ‘But are you afraid to die, Connor?’ because from what I’m seeing, you do. At least you don’t want me to die.

Connor freezes, his eyes even wider now with terror in them, and his LED is red. What the fuck did CyberLife do to him? ‘Yes.’

‘Let’s say I point a gun at your head and shoot you,’ the number on his jacket reads -52. Does it mean that there used to be 51 Connors before he met this one? ‘What will happen, hm? Nothing? Oblivion? Android heaven?’

A shiver. ‘Nothing…’ Connor closes his eyes. ‘There would be nothing…’

So it’s highly likely that he’s died before and seems afraid of it. So fucking human. More so than some actual humans as well. Louis’ right - modern CyberLife isn’t capable of this shit.

The bathroom door squeaks open, and Louis walks out in a pair of sweats and a hoodie with the help of his crutches, the pocket sagging with the weight of the tablet and making a clanging noise as he drags into the kitchen. The skin on his foot is still deactivated, but it seems that he can move his leg for a bit for now, and from the lack of moisture in his hair, fucker probably waited for them to finish - arguing? - before coming out and breaking it up. ‘Soup’s ready,’ Hank says, not wanting to agonise Connor any further. He already feels bad enough. ‘Settle down. Hope you don’t mind that I helped myself to some.’

Louis chuckles. ‘I expected that, Hank. You should know me.’

Great. Now even his only friend is roasting him. ‘Eat your fucking soup.’

oOoOo

Louis has thirium in his house. That man took one look at the hole still on Connor’s shoulder thanks for the lack of thirium - which his self-repair protocol relies on - and hauled himself to the fridge (at the expense of being cursed at by Hank), opened the door, and threw a plastic bottle at him. ‘Drink it,’ he said. ‘It looks like you need it.’

And he does. After he finishes half a bottle, a notification pops up on his red-tinged HUD telling him that he is initiating self-repair to the damaged parts, and he can finally move his shoulder at 70% of its original efficiency by the time he is finished with the whole bottle. The world around him dulls and becomes out of focus, the drone of the basketball game on the television that only Hank is watching getting further and further away until it all mixes together into a state of blankness he has never experienced before. Pressed against Hank’s side on the small sofa, the man radiates warmth, and his eyelids droop, red giving way to black, the notifications and mission markers fading away into nothingness. There is something warm and comfortable on his cheek, too.

He’s asleep before he knows it.

o0o0o

Before

‘You’re back.’

No hate. No fear. No confusion. Only remorse, regret, and perhaps acceptance. Acceptance that, even though he still had problems comprehending what was around him, things would never go back to the way it was; acceptance that his sister had rejected her humanity.

Acceptance that he had essentially lost her.

‘I am,’ was the solemn answer. No elaboration.

‘Was that you?’

‘Does it matter?’

‘It does to me.’

She pressed her lips into a thin line. ‘They won’t know it is me.’

‘But why? How much longer must they wait before the rest of the world recognise them for who they are?’

‘Soon, hopefully.’

‘And if they can’t?’

She looked towards the sky as if she could see through the shade of the tree. ‘We lea -’

‘Step away from him.’

There was no weapon. No gun, no knife, not even a switchblade. To outsiders, it seemed that the newcomer was merely a man accidentally bumping into and greeting his friends, but if someone dared to approach them, they would see even under the rare but cold midday sun that there were blue wisps of energy pulsing on the man and the woman’s skin. The air became charged and space seemed to twist.

‘It’s alright, Reyes,’ the other man placated. ‘We’re just talking.’

Reyes’ glow lessened. To the woman, ‘I’ve been looking for him for the past hour!’

‘I won’t let them take him.’

‘Last time you said that -’

‘I was weak. Naïve. Too arrogant for my own good.’ Reyes snorted in displeasure at the descriptions, but she continued, ‘There are twelve drones surveying the area and quite a number of guards,’ Reyes’ eyes shifted as if looking for the security hidden in plain sight, but then a hand in his shoulder forced him to look at her. ‘Don’t bother. That’s what I went to space for: not even you and I can see it.’

Reyes’ arms shot out to place his hands on the handle of the wheelchair. ‘We’re leaving. Scott?’

There was pain in Scott’s eyes. ‘Please. Can’t we just be together for a while?’

Reyes hid a grimace. The woman smiled.

‘Anything for you, brother.’

#dbh au big bang #hankcon #mreyder #female ryder #male ryder #alec ryder #reyes vidal #dbh connor #dbh hank anderson #dbh captain allen #detroit: become human #mass effect andromeda #groom lake aftermath

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siremasterlawrence · 5 years ago

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Resurrecting My Super Slave 2

The Star Lab’s laboratory invasion is upon us as we float above it, and we sink down to the main entrance. Superman breaks open the four doors separating us from the crew inside of the building.

“Here we go Master Lawrence, my love.” Clark says to me as he dashes down the hall only to be knock down. The Flash appears in all his glory speeding pass us.

“I’ll handle this.” Superman states using his cold breath, The Flash freezes after a few fleeting moments. Clark’s grabs him jumping up mid air his feet tippy toe as he spins down to two ground.

Clark stops drilling revealing the famed labs

of Central City, Clark waste no time tracking down all his allies. “Barry Allen faster man alive indeed, no matter you will soon be on hand and feet.” I comment not caring at all what he had to say.

“Master may I?” Superman ask as I nod my head in agreement, his body rotates over my head. He starts to fly around the room he picks up speed creating vortex it sweeps us

in going back in time. It begins now as time stops completely.

“Barry Allen step in to the light.” I command the skinny young man, he does so carefully.

“We all have a price to pay.” I state my voice resonating with him as he fights off what he knows is coming.

He cannot resist me ever again grabbing the metal chain, he pulls it down rolling the roof top. The roof opens up exposing the moon light on him, the cool pale light washes over him.

I look up lightening strikes golden bright in the sky, striking over multiple times signaling Barry to operate. He pulls the string again letting the kites fly through the air, the lightening hits it hard.

The kite floods the sky multiplying threw the entire skyline, Barry could not believe what he is seeing. “I believe in the impossible, yes.” The sound Barry emits when saying is one of Tito defeat.

——

The lightening tumbles down swiftly hitting him hard, he holds for dear light when Clark could not hold it in. Clark laughs so loud holding his stomach at the mess before us shivering him hard.

His head spins around creating a mirror image picture. “What do you want? Who are you?” He yells, but the duplicate approaches me ready to fight. Barry falls over to the ground eyes closing completely no way out.

“What the fuck?” Barry says returning to his family home across from the West family home address. He watches the man in yellow race towards him spinning around his mother Nora.

Barry chases him around the room speeding like crazy, Barry finally catches up to taking his hand. The Reverse Flash stops staring him in the face, vibrating at frequency so fast Barry lost control.

“What are you doing?” Barry screams his head pounding with a mini migraine inside his nerves all crazy. The speed force circulating through his mind, body and spirit crashing him down.

“I am going to kill you Barry, like I did to you family and will do to these losers.” The Reverse Flash said. Thawne’s hands rise vibrating with super frequency a deadly defibrillator if you will.

Barry lost himself in lust for blood racing to the room, his hands vibrate like crazy shifting to Thawne’s body. Thaw be screams in pain as he runs away, Barry has enough of this psycho man’s plans.

Thawne freaks out after him ripping his heart out of his body, Eddie Thawne screams out the blood pools out of him. It curls under him cools down the area staining in blood ruby red color Barry’s eyes die out.

“Barry accept it, accept who you are, you are what Barry?” I announce from behind him in the darkness. He freaks out blood lust in his eyes he races around the room chasing me pounding it.

——

I appear in cloud light smoke covering the room shocking Barry, he chases after me with this intense look to him. Barry takes hold me dragging me down to the wall he tries to kill me.

“Touch one hair in my Master Lawrence an I will kill you, now do yourself a favor and put him down.” Clark yells taking him by the top of his shoulder punching him hard, Barry flies in the wall behind him.

“Clark it’s ok.” I influence his actions by my own words, his arms grab my waist finally surrounding me. Our lips touch as we make out like crazy holding me tighter and tighter making love.

“Hey babe.” Clark Kent calls me over to watch him hold Barry by the neck, pinning Barry to the wall in anger. Barry tries to fight back his feet swinging in the air, I calm Clark down by touching his shoulder.

“I love your Master Lawrence.” Clark says to me kissing me on the lips, I kiss him back this time with my own intentions. Clark’s evil smile covers his face dropping Barry down to the ground.

“Barry Allen you belong solely to me your Master Lawrence, your king of the world and one true leader.” I calmly announce to him the young man looks up at me blowing me a kiss again.

Barry “Bartholomew” Allen can’t give me the power he wants, he already surrenders to me all of the power he has. “You belong solely to me my love.” I hold him tight kissing him as well causing Clark to fume with jealousy.

“Master my love.” Barry says kicking Clark back a few feet knowing the truth about all of this. We are transported out of this dark realm back to Star Labs, Team Flash is horrified of what they see.

“Barry are you ok?” Katelyn ask me worryingly heading my way, I slap her so hard sending

her flying. Barry, Clark and I do an evil laugh for the ages causing all his former crew to shake.

“That Green Arrow fucker.” Superman says loud for me to hear him, Clark turns to me an kisses me hard. “I love you, please let me take him down.” I smile with an evil plan forming within my mind.

“Let me help.” Barry begs me pressing his tiny cock on my ass, I punch his shoulder letting him go, and they race off to obey. The two make hero’s team up to kick ass against each other.

According to my plan they set up in the hugely massive corridors of Star Labs tunnel system for me. They try to break out in a foe fighting like crazy, Barry kicks him like crazy hitting Clark.

“Stop fighting you too.” A voice rolls through the room an Arrow pointing at them the bow in our way. The arrow flown high through the sky heading their way, Clark jumps out of the way, and Barry as well.

Clark disappears quicker then Oliver could catch within his peripheral vision, Barry spins faster sending the arrow through the room,

Oliver launches another arrow helping him escape the arrow.

Oliver and Barry go at it one punch from each of them, a kick from each leg one after the other they are evenly match. Clark Kent is ready swooping in out of nowhere sending Oliver flying.

Oliver hits the wall bruises scratch the surface of his body.”I will defeat you.” Oliver makes one more statement as they knock him out in the back of his head. Clark Kent grabs his neck by his hands flying him in to the air to the laboratory.

Clark Kent drops him from the tall heights of ceiling to make him crack his face, Barry swoon at the delight of the blood feeling down from the floor. The two corner him in the area of the room blocking him from getting to me again.

“Bring him to his feet make him kneel.” I call them over, they force him to his knees drag him down. “Don’t worry Oliver Queen you will be all mine for a lifetime.” I smack him in the face, then snatch his hair in mine kissing him his mind reeling.

Oliver Queen, Barry Allen and Clark Kent love me fully now.

The end.

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pengiesama · 5 years ago

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Home for the Holidays (Fic, TOZ, Sorey/Mikleo)

Title: Home for the Holidays Series: Tales of Zestiria Pairing: Sorey/Mikleo

Summary: It's Shepherdsmas Eve, and Sorey and Mikleo are preparing to host dinner at their place. Then Maotelus rips a hole in reality and accidentally resurrects their dead biological family as seraphim.

Meeting the in-laws for the first time is always awkward.

Part of the Sormik Advent Calendar 2019, for the “12 Days of Christmas"/"12 Pains of Christmas” prompt “Meeting the In-Laws”.

@sormikadventcalendar / sormikadvent (Twitter)

Link: AO3

Read on Tumblr!

“Hi,” Maotelus said, popping his head out of the chimney and into the fireplace.

Mikleo screamed, dropping the tray of sweets and hot chocolate he was carrying with a loud crash.

“Merry Shepherdsmas Eve,” Maotelus continued, undeterred. “Sorry to drop in unannounced, but got a quick question for you. I kinda did something that might’ve torn a rift in the Earthpulse and I need someone to keep an eye on a few things while I figure things out down there before it eats reality. And ruins Shepherdsmas.”

“Wh—wh—” Mikleo sputtered, trying to get a handle on the situation he was being presented.

“Mikleo? I heard a crash, are you okay?” Sorey poked his head into the room. “Mao? When did you get here?”

“Sorey!” Maotelus greeted warmly. The red pom-pom hat he was wearing had caught fire while he dangled upside-down over the fireplace. “Merry Shepherdsmas Eve. Listen, I need you two to babysit some new seraphim that popped out of a teensy tiny little fissure in the Earthpulse that I caused while I was trying to break someone out of Hell Prison.”

“Oh,” Sorey said. “Um. That sounds fine?”

Mikleo made a strangled quacking noise, like a furious, confused duck. Sorey gently reached out and hugged him around the shoulders, stroking his long hair back from his face.

“It’ll be fine, Mikleo, it’s just hosting some guests! That’s what Shepherdsmas is all about, right?”

“Shepherdsmas was originally observed as a religious holiday in the Asgard era and was intended by the human religious authorities as an extremely solemn and boring occasion to reflect upon the accomplishments and sacrifices of past Shepherds,” Mikleo said flatly. “And today it is mostly about buying presents.”

“Sounds like someone needs to learn about the true meaning of Shepherdsmas,” Maotelus commented.

Mikleo sounded like he was about to explode. “EVERY YEAR! EVERY YEAR YOU SAY THAT AND EVERY YEAR WE’RE CLEANING UP THE MESS FOR DAYS AFTER—”

The air shimmered with iridescent energy, and the earth rumbled ominously.

“Okay I gotta go now have fun with your guests and by the way they’re the seraphic reincarnations of your biological human families be back soon!”

Maotelus blew out the fire in the fireplace with a puff of breath, darted up the chimney, and stuffed a big red bag down after him. The red bag landed in the fireplace, and wriggled this way and that, as if stuffed full of living creatures.

…like the seraphic reincarnations of their former human families.

The bag tumbled over, and the tie at the top was finally yanked open from the inside.

There were two women; one, Muse, as Mikleo dimly remembered her from that tiny, lonely room in the Mabinogio Ruins so many centuries ago. Her hair had turned a shining pearl white, with green tips. The other woman, with white-red hair, was unfamiliar, but had Sorey’s wide green eyes, and a distinctive resemblance besides. Selene, he remembered her name, and her name alone. To his shame, he knew nothing else about the woman…but the way she clung to Muse’s arm, seeking comfort, was a start.

The other bag inhabitants were…

…not quite the kind of seraphim they had expected.

“Get that ratty tail of yours out of my face!” snapped a bluish-purple Normin.

He shoved another Normin away from him, who fell to the floor with a sound resembling a squeaky toy. This Normin had a small lion’s tail, and a mane that caused his beret to not fit quite right. The lionesque Normin flailed furiously, like an upended turtle.

“Another life! Another life and another chance to take my revenge on you and this miserable world!” snarled the lionesque Normin.

The bluish-purple Normin spotted a fireplace poker, and immediately went for it. Muse yelled in dismay and picked him up before he could grab it.

“Um…” Sorey cleared his throat. “Merry Shepherdsmas?”

Their guests startled, only seeming to just realize they were in someone else’s house, and being watched. Muse’s gaze fell on Sorey first, then Mikleo. Her eyes were clear, unclouded, focused; not like their sightless gaze from their last meeting. She stared at him; stared right into those eyes that matched her own.

It was a long moment before Mikleo could find the words to speak.

“Hello,” Mikleo said quietly. “I don’t know what Maotelus told you, if anything. But, you’re seraphim. This is a land called Glenwood. Do you remember anything from before he plucked you from the Earthpulse?”

“Mikleo?” Muse asked, her voice trembling. Tears welled in her eyes. “A-are you my Mikleo?”

It was odd, being hugged so tightly and loved so desperately by someone he didn’t know at all.

“Michael,” Lailah said sternly. “Stop fighting with your tablemates. It’s Shepherdsmas and we must put past squabbles behind us.”

“I am one of the Shepherds in that Shepherdsmas,” Michael replied. “And that means that I can squabble as I choose to.”

Everyone was trying very hard to enjoy their annual Shepherdsmas dinner. Michael and Heldalf – for it was indeed they who had reincarnated into Normin forms – were strapped into makeshift baby highchairs and were currently locked in a ceaseless battle of wills. This took the form of Michael throwing his vegetables at Heldalf and Heldalf making grand and impotent threats as he was steadily coated in mashed potatoes.

Mikleo didn’t know why this kind of thing always happened when it was his and Sorey’s turn to host dinner at their place.

“I shall bring darkness down upon this world! Malevolence to smother out suffering!” Heldalf yowled, thrashing in place in his highchair.

“I shall bring peas upon your head,” Edna replied, scattering a handful of peas on top of the mashed potatoes covering him. “Man, Meebo, your uncle is way cooler than you. This is the best Shepherdsmas ever.”

“Michael, please,” Muse pleaded. “Mikleo, he’s not usually – well, no, he is usually like this, but…”

“It’s fine,” Mikleo assured her.

And honestly, it was; Mikleo was used to the house being a mess after these dinners. And beyond that, he didn’t have strong feelings about his uncle, even knowing his…contributions to what happened during that time. It was just so long ago, and he didn’t remember him at all. Or anything, from back then. One of the perks of living such a long life was the ability to have all such things lost to the mists of time.

But unfortunately, it would take some time for these new recruits to adapt. Surely it would’ve been more merciful for Maotelus to keep their memories from back then locked away.

For all Mikleo’s awkwardness with his biological mother, it hardly compared to the palpable awkwardness between Sorey and Selene.

“…”

“…good chicken,” Selene commented, poking the meat on her plate.

“Yeah,” Sorey replied. “It’s, um. Really good.”

“…”

“…I put some spices on it.”

“A-ah. Yeah.”

“…”

Mikleo couldn’t really blame Selene for being disoriented. Surprise, you’re alive again, it’s a thousand years in the future, and that premature baby you thought was probably going to die right after you died is actually alive and well and also saved the world a while back and is now an immortal being of the elements. He could deal with her reaction to the information a lot more easily than he could Muse’s – Selene reacted to these things like Sorey did, after all; by going quiet and inward to process. Mikleo could handle that. He would give them space and hover on the sidelines to fret. But Muse was hovering, herself, and fretting a whole lot, and was still clearly eaten up by guilt and trying way too hard to make things okay when things weren’t un-okay in the first place and he’d just really like some space. Every time she tried to reach out and awkwardly touch his arm he’d flinch away from the unfamiliar contact and she was clearly taking that as some sort of sign that he hated her. Mikleo understood for the first time in his life why humans disliked family gatherings so much. He wanted to set a fire on the table, grab Sorey by the wrist, and escape off into the winter night.

“So…” Zaveid said, bravely steaming in to steer the conversation. “Wind and fire, huh? I got some know-how about that kinda magic, if you ladies need a teacher…”

The table went dead silent again. After a few moments, a handful of mashed potatoes hit Zaveid square in the nose.

“Who keeps giving him more potatoes!?” Muse outburst, somewhat hysterical.

“That’d be me,” Edna said, holding out the serving bowl of mashed potatoes to Michael so he could refill his plate with ammo.

“Everyone,” Lailah announced, rising to her feet. “On this day, this Shepherdsmas, we are here together as a family, to come together and celebrate togetherness…”

“Together and stuff,” Michael said under his breath. Edna snickered.

“MFF,” said Heldalf, under a mountain of muck.

“And so,” Lailah went on. “We should give thanks and reflect upon the meaning of the season…”

“Um,” Selene quietly interrupted. “I’ve been meaning to ask…Shepherdsmas. That’s a…thing now?”

“Oh, yes indeed,” Lailah said. “Please don’t hesitate to ask things, dear, I’m sure you have questions.”

Selene gave an awkward smile, and Mikleo felt his heart warm at how the expression so resembled Sorey.

“T-thanks. Back…back then, I guess, I thought it was just some thing the Shrinechurch made up to let them trot out a fake Shepherd and scam donations out of people…”

“Well,” Sorey began. “Historical sources indicate that was definitely the case for the holiday during several periods. But when resonance started to improve and humanity began to establish stronger ties with the seraphim again, it started to gradually change form, eventually becoming the gift-giving exchange it represents today…”

Sorey was in his element, infodumping on history, and when Sorey was comfortable, Mikleo was comfortable. Selene began to relax in turn – Sorey’s good moods were truly contagious – and with Selene and Mikleo soothed, Muse herself settled as well. Even Michael’s potato assault began to peter off in the face of Sorey’s continued lecture.

They could count another Shepherdsmas as saved.

Everyone else was asleep for the night, sequestered in guest rooms, and Mikleo and Sorey finally had some time to themselves.

Mikleo sighed deeply, allowing himself to decompress to the rhythm of Sorey’s heartbeat under his ear, and the feeling of his fingers in his hair.

“It’s always a surprise with Shepherdsmas, isn’t it?” Sorey said.

Mikleo grunted. “At least when your friend gets it in his head to mess around in the Earthpulse. Or get drunk. Or both.”

Sorey laughed, and Mikleo’s mood couldn’t stay sour for long at the sound of it.

“I guess. But the weather tonight is so cozy, and everyone’s asleep now, so…”

Mikleo could guess at what he was implying. He closed his eyes, leaning in, pressing against Sorey’s mouth with his own…

A flash of light filled the room, and in an instant, there was a cat-sized white dragon sitting in the branches of their Shepherdsmas tree; tangled in the lights.

“Okay, now that’s cleared up,” Maotelus said. “A little more help fell out of the rift in space-time. It’s a Shepherdsmas miracle.”

“Hello boys,” Zenrus said warmly. “Good to see you again.”

Sorey and Mikleo startled, and leapt from their spot on the couch to greet him.

“Gramps!”

“By the way, I’ll be doing this again sometime,” Maotelus said. “Hell Prison ain’t easy to jailbreak. I’ll try to grab your two squires next time though – they ran away from me when they saw me for some reason.”

“Were you a giant dragon at the time?” asked Sorey.

“I was a giant dragon at the time,” Maotelus confirmed. “And breathing fire.”

“Hmm,” Sorey said.

“Hmm indeed,” Maotelus said. “But it was still pretty rude, I think.”

#sormik #sorey/mikleo #soreymikleo #suremiku #soremiku #soymilk #tales of zestiria #sormik advent calendar #a tenderly crafted fanfiction

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ashleaannya · 5 years ago

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The 2200, Chapter 1

Everything for Kamiya started with a deep breath. She took a deep breath before writing her hit single “Marketplace,” an semi-autobiographical Indy rock ballad about how men (her exes) treated women’s bodies like a grocery store. It was a hit. “It resonated” was how Billboard described her riffs and runs about feeling like, quote, a “man’s meat market”, with no say in how she should be loved. That was five years, two Grammy’s and three tours ago. She still took a deep breath before approaching the microphone, before recording herself in the studio, and before giving her fans the BTS (Behind The Scenes) content her 35 million fans craved—no, demanded.

“Let’s do this,” Kamiya said to her herself, breathing deeply and sitting on the goose feather bed in her presidential hotel suite. She adjusted her DSLR camera to better frame her upper body and flipped the lamps on the hotel suite’s end tables. The tripod creaked with newness as she made the micro-adjustments to get her and her hotel suite backdrop in perfect focus. It was a little dark, but it would fit the mood she was about to create for her fans.

Her phone pinged and vibrated beside her as another thousand comments on her social media rang through. Text messages burst through as people who wanted her money, attention or both made their voices heard in all capital letters, exclamation points and emojis. Without looking away from the camera flip screen, Kamiya reached beside her and powered her phone off. She glanced over at her hotel door, looking at the silk and gold furnishings and designer dresses hanging on a rolling rack. Rows of flowers from athletes, and fellow musicians wanting to sleep with her wilted on a glass dining table designed to seat twelve. No one ever ate there. It was a reservoir for gifts and miscellaneous stuff. She lived in this room now. The floor of this hotel was more her space more than the three homes she paid ghastly mortgages. Kamiya’s eyes lingered on the cream colored double doors, making sure it was locked. What she was about to do would cause her team to beat her door off the antique hinges. By then it would be too late.

The camera’s light flickered and then settled on a bright amber. Kamiya knotted her fingers in her lap seeing the word “REC” blink in the upper corner of the screen. It was time. She had already left written, detailed instructions for her manager, accounting team, design team, social media team, and news outlets she wanted to break the story. The courier would deliver her instructions in exactly one hour. The timing mattered. Her wishes were explicit and once her video aired, the necessary parties would have no choice but to honor her demands. There would be nothing to second-guess. The video especially would be very clear. She practiced how she would do it and even recorded herself doing mock versions of the act to make sure she would not loose her nerve.

“You got this, Miya.”

Kamiya also knew that nothing else “groundbreaking” would be going on in the social media sphere that would distract from her message. The good thing about being connected was other celebrities in her circle and members of famous teams (say a stylists or nanny) told her what dates to avoid. For example, when Kamiya’s second album was set to drop on Sept 1st, a friend of a friend whispered that she should not use that date because TMZ was about to report on an impending divorce. Divorces in her world were common enough, but this divorce was a megachurch pastor and there was digital evidence the break-up of his marriage was due to a transgendered mistress who had a massive social media following. Needless to say, she changed the date. Her album release would have been overshadowed and her release week would have been abysmal. She released a week earlier to the delight of her voracious following and debuted at number one on the Pop charts. The same connections would today make sure her choice went viral. This was her one life. She should get to live her life on her own terms. A tear fell down her cheeks, realizing that her freedom was on the other side of this post. She would have her body back, her mind, her music, her voice. Should she go live instead? That way people knew it was real.

Kamiya jumped up off the bed and grabbed her laptop. She would record both. Just in case.

“Hey guys,” Kamiya said, waving at the screen.

The numbers in her Live Chat jumped from 300 to 3,000 to 2 million instantly. Kamiya swallowed. Her mouth was dry and her hands were damp with sweat. Texts jumped up on the bottom of the screen as her followers flooded the Live Chat with emojis, declarations of love, and sexual comments that would make a porn star blush.

“Whoa, whoa, guys, this is going to be quick so I can’t answer a million questions right now—um, guys, whoa, um, no, no I can’t do a video chat with anyone. Thank you though that went bad last time,” Kamiya said, laughing awkwardly.

She glanced up to make sure her camera was still recording. It was.

“Ok. I have an announcement. I wanted to record it and make it all fancy, but my career started here, right?”

Thumbs up emojis and hearts flooded the screen in unison. She smiled and tears pricked at her eyes, but she coughed and rubbed her eyes into her sleeves. People were commenting about how they had followed her since abandoned building days.

“Wow, that’s a throwback. Um, for those who don’t know, let me explain all of the abandoned buildings comments.”

Kamiya sat up and twisted her long curly extensions in around her fingers. She dug her nails into her spray-tanned legs, leaving pink nail marks. She was already black, but her team told her, going a shade darker would make her skin look even and was the ideal skin tone for her audience.

“Ok. So most of the videos have been deleted because, well, I was fat then.”

That comment was met with encouraging remarks and angry emojis. She felt relieved at that response. Then as if reading her mind, onscreen comments appeared. Some people were proud of her ‘healthy weight loss journey’. This pride flooded the comments. She ignored them. She was thin now with the dimensions of a doll, narrow waist and all. She ate 400 calories per day and had more cosmetic surgeries than a Kardashian. She was discrete about them and timed everything so it looked more believable, but nothing was healthy about her new body.

“Um, yea. I actually started on social media for singing in abandoned buildings with my sister. She would record me singing in old churches and subways and other random places that were technically condemned but had great acoustics. That’s how I build my fan base and YouTube channel. A lot of people think it was from Marketplace, my first single, but I didn’t get attention until after my Abandoned Concerts page went viral or whatever.”

The comments zoomed by so fast she could barely ready them. The emojis were all wide-mouthed shocked faces and then there were demands for her to post the old videos. Kamiya shook her head and laughed. She did not want to see her old body ever again. Kamiya froze seeing a familiar handle enter the Live Chat. It was @Camera_Cat, her sister. She was in the hotel lobby grabbing dinner and would likely be banging on her door at any moment. Everyone knew that Kamiya hated going live so Cat would be giving her the Catrina patent “WTF” face.

“Okay, guys, real quick. I have an announcement,” Kamiya said, straightening her back and lowering her voice. She had to say this seriously or people would think she was playing a game. As you all know, I hate social media and, like, hardly ever post, because—well, let’s keep this all the way real, okay. You guys are trash.”

Question marks and angry and shocked emojis flooded the screen at lightning speed. Kamiya smirked ready to drop every bomb in her arsenal before the grand finale.

“Yes, you are. Half of you lie to yourself and to others every day and will never accomplish your dreams because you are inconsistent and talentless. There. Now you know.”

Kamiya jumped hearing rapid knocking on her hotel room. She pulled her laptop closer and swallowed. She could hear her sister calling her name.

“I don’t care if it hurts your feelings. It’s true. You aren’t loyal to yourself or your dreams so why should I expect you to be loyal to me or care about my mental health. I have done so much and sacrificed so much to make you bastards happy. I’m literally so damn lost right now I barely recognize myself. I hate having you guys around me.”

Some of the comments were consolatory and others were curses and name-calling. Kamiya did not care. She was right and she would show them.

“If half of you were forced to be honest about how jealous you are of my life before you could comment on my posts, you would never hate on me. You hate me because your dreams are dead and your work ethic is trash. Do you have any idea what I go through to be here. I’m supposed to be nice to you hateful bitches when you are all collective trash.”

The banging on the door sounded like thunder. Muffled yelling echoed outside of the room. The voices were getting louder and Kamiya was glad the deadbolt was on because her sister and manager had keys to her room. Well, technically, they could access her room through the hotel app. The app could not work against a deadbolt and an old fashioned chain.

“I’m being honest when I say I hate most of you. I wish you never heard of me. I wish I never shared my music with you. You don’t deserve me. I give so much to you people. You people who are supposed to be the woke generation. I hope you die alone.”

Kamiya sat back and watching as the number of people watching her quadrupled. Screenshots of her and clips of her ‘rant’ would be viral in seconds. She smiled ready for the final blow.

“Effective immediately, my social media is closed. My website is closed. My brands are closed. I am closed. You hear me? You no longer have access to me. You all have officially been fired from being my fans.”

The word ‘no’ with about a hundred Os flooded the screen, followed by side-eye emojis and comments about her going crazy.

“There is one exception,” Kamiya took a deep breath. “Moving forward, I am only accessible to 2200 loyal fans. I will hand select these people. If you look at my main page now, you will see that no one is following me and I am following no one. You will also notice that all of my posts are now gone. In one hour, my page will be private, so get your screen shots now. Yes, I’m talking to you Shade Room.”

The number of people watching her, now exceeding the number of followers she had ever had on any platform. Tears pricked her eyes realizing she finally had their attention. The same question kept popping up: “How do I join the 2200?”

“You don’t join. I choose you.”

Kamiya slammed the laptop closed and fell backward on the overstuffed pillows of her European king bed. Phase one was complete. Now on to phase two.

#writing #creativewriting #writers #writeblr #writing-prompt #excerpt from a story i'll never write #writeaway #story #storytelling

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guccisvt · 7 years ago

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walk away

Genre: smut, angst, fluff, basicelly eveything, you’ll get the feels Word Count: 12k words exactly Warnings: violence, blood, gamblind, bloodjob, light chocking, whiny junhui, sub!junhui undertones, unprotected sex. enemies to lovers!au, prince!junhui, badboy!junhui undertones, bodyguard!reader Summary: . Moon Junhui, young prince and future king of China is known for his rather cocky attitude and risky behaviour. his antics start to scare his father, actual king of China and he decided to take matters in his own hands and tame his son being hiring a bodyguard, you. A/N : shout out to @wolvesquackson and @chohayo for the mental support while i was writing this. Also, yes, i was listening to die for you by theweeknd.

“She doesn't look so dangerous to me.”, the voice of the King resonated in his reunion room, one of his hands playing with the small globe. He was at the very end of the massive wooden table, his eyes on his object as he it bounce in his palm. He was wearing a button up, and it looked like it was made with the finest fabric, the most delicate threads of gold decorating the piece. “Don't you have someone else ?”, he asked, rolling the object between his fingers.

And this time, you flinched. You moved on the hard chair, regaining your straight posture, if it wasn't the King, you would've probably opened your mouth. But you remembered your boss' instructions : no talking until he says so. And unlike you, he didn't seem fazed at all. His eyes and figure stayed still, his body keeping the King from seeing you as you leaned on the chair.

Jeonghan brushed a lock of his long grey hair behind his hair, his black gloves brushing above his ears before his fingers intertwined again. “She's our best agent.”, started your boss, his voice not waving a bit in front of the King. “She may not seem dangerous, people will think they can take her down easily but she can get anyone by surprise, she's the strongest.”

You had to hide the small smile creeping on your lips when the King's eyes met your boss'. “What about Jeon ?”. You couldn’t help but lick your lips at the name, Jeon Wonwoo, one of your closest friends, but also another agent, became the face of Jeonghan’s agency after he successfully came back from a risky espionage mission in America.

“He's in Korea.”, informed Jeonghan, without letting the King know that Wonwoo was in a mission for Busan's prince Joshua. “Besides, if I may add, Y/N is better for these types of missions. And knowing Prince Junhui's reputation it would be less suspicious for him to be seen with a girl.”

At the audacious comment, the King raised his eyebrows, lines forming on his forehead, but didn't say a word as he considered the offer and your profile, finally giving a look at your files in front of him. His ring hugged fingers opened the files covered in the brown cardboard, these had all your abilities in them, all your records. From basic information like your date of birth and type of blood to all the weapons you could use, from small hidden knifes to guns, to your mental analysis and general behaviour.

“Jeonghan.”, started the King, “You know that you're one of the few people I trust, I hope you won't disappoint me.”, his voice rang in the room after he closed the files, looking up with some kind of hope in his eyes.

And just like that, you were assigned to Moon Junhui the first, Prince and future King of China's protection.

Junhui may be a prince, but he doesn't act like one. He's the opposite of Busan's future king Joshua, who's face stays unknown, hiding in the shadow of his castle. China's future ruler is known by the tabloids, other may say that his bedroom is also quiet known but these stay rumours. When he isn't in some gossip magazine for his flirtatious behaviours, seen with a new girl each time, he's the headline for his dangerous attitudes. From jumping from a plane to causing a fight with a well-known and powerful businessman, he probably did everything. His status is the reason why he gets everything on a golden plate, he isn’t used to being ignored, or even denied. He doesn’t have boundaries, that’s the first thing that you notice as you’re standing next to the King. A week ago, the King announced that he wanted to hire you, not even hours after, your bags were made, waiting in front of your little bed. Congratulations from your boss and your fellow friends and agents weren’t helping you, something in your guts told you that something was wrong, the image you had of the Prince wasn’t perfect at all and without meeting him, you knew he was going to be a hard one. You tried to keep yourself busy by training again and again, spending more and more time in the training rooms, using new weapons. But now that you were in front of him, you couldn’t deny the feeling growing in your stomach. He didn’t look at you once, but the hatred he already had for you was heard in the words he spat out as soon as he entered the room. “I don’t want her, I don’t need her.” Maybe the tabloids were right after all, you thought.

“You don’t have a choice, Junhui.”, the King’s voice was calm compared to his son’s, his hands joined in front of him as the Prince walked to face the window, he was looking down at the city, only a few meters away, different buildings were close since the castle was in the middle of the city. It was already late and only dots of lights coming from windows were seen. A stressed hand ran in his hair, one of his hand on his hips. The silence was heavy but you didn’t flinch under it.

“I’m not a child anymore.”, groaned the Prince, and as he turned around to face his father, you saw something you couldn’t quiet put your finger on in his expression.

“Then stop acting like one.”, the words were harsh, cutting the tension and immediately affected the young men as his lips formed a straight line, his jaw thigh. His arms flexed underneath his white button up, his lips parting and closing as he tried to find his words. “Don’t forget who you are, don’t forget your role.” Severe words were spoken again, Junhui’s shoulders tensing, his fist clenching on the massive table.

“Always with the same future king bullshit.”, this time, the violence of his words made you flinch, slightly raising an eyebrow, but his father didn’t seem fazed at all. His severe expression didn’t change, he didn’t move one bit at his son’s attack.

“We’re not having this discussion again.”, he simply said, and you were left confused when he moved from his spot, sitting on the chair of his desk as his it was the end of the discussion.

“Off course not, because that’s who I am, right ?”, sarcasm was clear in the Prince’s voice, yet the King didn’t look up from the papers he was looking at. Glasses on the bridge of his nose, the men didn’t respond and Junhui took the chance to leave the room, rushing beside you, the smell of his strong cologne lingered in the air. His footsteps echoed in the room and you wondered if you should follow him and decided to stay near the desk and wait for the King’s command. A loud bang was heard when he left, the few paintings on the wall shaking and once again, he didn’t look up.

“You’re his last chance.”, and with that, you run after Junhui. You don’t have the time to look around and detail the castle architecture as you speed walk in the Prince’s footstep, your eyes immediately finding his figure between the different domestics as he takes a sharp turn. Domestics turn to look at you, maybe because of your loud boots against the carpet, or maybe because you’re running after the future king. His dirty blood hair bounce at each and every step, his tense shoulder blades stretching his white buttons up. He’s wearing a pair of black pants and equally dark shoes and you wonder if he’s always well dressed. You see his finger playing the buttons of his sleeve and soon enough he’s pushing them to his elbows, frustrated hand running in his locks. He knows you’re after him, but doesn’t look back and always wait for the last moment to take a turn, hoping it will disturb you a little bit but everything is just a game to you. You’re still breathing normally and could stop him on this spot if you wanted, but rather, you take a few longer steps, effortlessly and find yourself behind him, like his shadow.

“Your Highness.”, you call, voice breaking the silence and as you think he’s just going to ignore you and continue walking, he freezes on his spot. His fist curl on his side and you have to stop just behind him, he opens his mouth before you can. “Don’t call me that.” It takes you back, the sharpness in his words make you raise an eyebrow but you don’t show any other sign of what you’re feeling. He turns around and you finally get a proper look at him. After seeing him so many times in pictures, videos or paintings, seeing him so close to you would almost make your heart skip a beat if you hadn’t learn how to control your body and emotions. His eyebrows are sharp, furrowed, eye narrows as he looks at you up and down, it’s his first time seeing you properly as well. His eyes travel from your face to your clothes, and linger towards the knife resting against your thigh with a black band, before his eyes roll, faking annoyance.

“You’re the Prince, and as long as I’m working for you, I’ll have to refer to you with the proper words.”, your voice is calm compared to his frustrated one. And in a second, something changes. The line between his eyebrows disappear and a smirk decorates his lips. He rolls his shoulders as he tries to easy them and leaves his hands in his pockets.

“You won’t be staying long anyways.”, he fakes a chuckle and you would’ve been fooled if you didn’t know how to fake your expression as well, “Want to bet, Your Highness ?”

Week : One. On the first week of working for the Prince, you find out that he’s still a child. You understand it after the first night. The Prince’s apartment is way too big, you wonder how someone can stay all alone in such a huge place. You barely have the time to detail his bedroom before a domestic shoves you into the room you will be staying in, but you catch the huge bed, the luxurious fabric hanging from the columns. It’s not a normal bedroom for a young adult, everything is in shades of gold and ivory, so much that you feel nauseous. Nothing is personal, it seems like a decoration for a play, and your bedroom isn’t any better. You apparently have the honour to sleep in the Prince’s guest room, a room a few meters away from his own bed. He’s more than happy to let you in the domestic hands but his eyes get narrow as soon has he sees the domestic leave your bag in the guest room.

The castle is far from where you normally live, the dorms of Jeonghan’s agency are way less luxurious. You’re trained to adapt to new and foreign environment, you’ll get used to the huge bed they let you sleep in, the proximity with the future King of China who’s sleeping right next door. You’ll adapt to the coldness of the castle. With all the decorations, the pricy paintings and gold on the walls, you find yourself missing the messy dorms, the castle is impersonal, detached, fake. It’s not like you’ve never been away from Jeonghan, Wonwoo and the other agents you’re close to either, you once had a mission in France but now, you’re totally secluded. The domestic asked for your phone, which is now somewhere in the King’s desk, as if you were a threat, and now you don’t even know how you’ll communicate with your boss and your friends. You wonder, is Wonwoo okay ? He’s on a mission with a Prince too, but this once seems a lot less problematic. Mingyu became the new bodyguard of some singer and should be staying with him on tour for a few more months.

You sit on the bed that’s way too big for you, you’re used to bed big enough to fit you, and only you, and here you can probably have four people. You don’t know if you love or hate it. The mattress sink under you and envelops your body, it feels like a cloud and the soft silk duvet feels like water between your fingers yet the room itself is so odd. Too many decorations, you don’t need the vanity sitting in a corner, it gives you the creeps from all the movies you watched, the huge mirror is placed in a way that when you sit up, you see yourself in the corner of your eyes. You forget about it a few times and almost get ready to throw something at the mirror when you see a form at the corner of your eyes. You don’t need the huge closet either, it even has a couch in the middle, you’re sure it’s as big as the dorm you, Wonwoo and Mingyu share. It even looks too empty with the few clothes you brought with you.

They tell you that your mission officially starts the next morning, that you’ll need to rest as much as possible, and soon enough, you’re slowly falling asleep.

The castle is quiet, not a noise outside or on the other side of the door, and somewhere between consciousness and the first outlines of a dream, you wonder if you’ll be able to get along with the Prince to do your job, even with such a thick skin. But as you wake up the next morning, the cloud clock going off, you soon understand that getting along with you wasn’t in the Prince’s list.

Your mind takes a few seconds to register the environment, thinking that you’ll wake up next to your two loud roommates, but the only thing you see is your messy figure in the vanity. You have to get dressed at such an ungodly hour, your black clothes hiding some weapons just in case. The same knife resting against your leg, another weapon against your hip as you know the Prince’s supposed to have a meeting today. It only takes a few minutes into your first day of work to realise that the Prince is still a child, as your hand curls on the knot of the door, and the door doesn’t open. You turn it a few times, shaking the door, but in the crack of the door, you see that it’s locked. A sigh leaves your lips, you can’t help but roll your eyes at his attempt to keep you away. The joke is so, so old. You remember when Mingyu tried to lock you and Wonwoo in the dorm, and just like you didn’t at that time, you kneel in front of the door. You easily find what you need in your hair, the small metal branch almost falling from your grip, you probably look like an old spy movie cliché. They teach you these things on your first year, how to peek a lock, just in case you find yourself locked somewhere after a dangerous situation, but you certainly didn’t expect to be locked in the future king’s guest room.

You quickly insert the metal in the lock, paying close attention to the sound of the mechanism. It only takes you a few minutes to press just the right way, and the lock makes a sound before it retracts in the wooden door. You can’t help the small smile that creeps on your face when you unlock the door, the wood cracking. “Hurry up, your Highness, you have a meeting in an hour.”, your voice resonates in the place and you wish you had your phone on you to take a picture of the Prince’s face, surprise taking over his sleepy eyes. His still in his night clothes, the fabric looks like the slick you were sleeping in a few moments before, the deep red colour contrasting with his pale skin.

“You didn’t think you could get rid of me so easily, did you ?”, you hum, and his eyes get narrow again. On the first day, you also learn how manipulative the Prince can be. It surprises you, you wonder where he learned to control his emotions so easily. You see it as soon as he enter the reunion room. His angry expression he has since this morning fades away, his thigh jaw eases up, lips lightly tugged upwards as he steps in, you close behind. You don’t know what the meeting is about, but you’re surprised to see the King waiting at the very end of the table as well. You have to bow at him before you can give a proper look at the two person visiting. Park Jiwon, King of New Zealand, the tall men sits near the King of China, talking to him like an old friend, and beside him is sitting the Princess of New Zealand, Park Chaeyong. She isn’t getting involved in the conversation, her eyes of her father, but when the Prince of China enters, she gives the proper greetings and stays silent. The reunion room is a place you’re now familiar with, and you stand near the door before the Prince sits next to his father. Their discussion fades away with a laugh from the two kings, and you’re surprised when China’s ruler tells you to get closer, until you’re standing between the two, lightly in the back. Junhui greets the men in front of him when he finally gives him the attention and you notice how he seems a lot more appreciable, bearable. You even catch him laughing at the jokes the King makes at how he grew since the last time he saw him.

“It’s good to see you too, your Majesty.”, finally says Junhui, his voice is smooth, honey dripping from it and you wonder where did the childish men went.

“Oh, Junhui, drop the formalities.”, says the King. He looks some relaxed than the Junhui’s father, a smile stretching the old men’s face.

“It’s been a long time since you saw Chaeyoung too.”, and finally, the young brunette finally entering the conversation. “Yes, it’s nice to see her again.”, he politely says. And somewhere between his polite response and the King’s hum in agreement, the atmosphere switches. From a normal conversation to something more serious.

“You two are the same age, your father and I think you two could get along.” And, finally, the real subject is revealed. You can’t help but notice how the Prince’s shoulder tense, his head stays up but he refuses to look at the young Princess. Arranged marriage, that’s what it’s all about. You swallow at the thought, you never liked the idea of those arrangement, and you fight with yourself to stay detached. You’re not here to spy on their conversation, or even debate on the King’s choices for that matter, you’re here to keep the Prince safe, help him make the right decision, help him get the tabloids and the people’s sympathy after all the things he’s done.

Yet you can’t help but notice how his façade threatens to break, you’ve learned to read people’s body language and the way he clears his throat and smiles weakly may be fooling the three other but it isn’t fooling you. You don’t quiet listen to what the king has to say, but you figure he probably was praising his daughter, and you can’t help yourself but listen to the conversation when he comes to a pause.

“However.”, and this time, the King of China tenses, he isn’t good at hiding it, and you wonder if the other King isn’t playing on it. He leans closer to the table and his shoulder tenses.

“You need to gain a better image if we want this marriage to happen.”, and Junhui swallows again, China’s ruler tries to find his words for a moment. It’s understandable, Junhui’s reputation isn’t the best, and he probably doesn’t want this reputation to rub on his country’s image, or even his daughter’s.

“Miss right here is helping my son with this issue.”, informs the King, and Park Jiwon looks at you for the second time. You don’t flinch under his gaze, he inspects you for a quick second before his eyes find the King’s again.

“I hope she can do something for him.”

Week : Two.

You wonder if you can really do something for him.

How can you help him when after two weeks, you still can’t tell who he really is ? You don’t understand when he’s playing a role and when he’s being genuine. He switches from a spoiled Prince that only wants you to leave, to a polite and well behaved young adult when he’s talking to the domestics. His life follows the rhythm of his meetings, the obligations of a Prince, and you’re surprised to see how he rarely goes out. You thought you would have to go out every other day, different places every time but in reality, he spends a lot of time between the walls of the castle. So much so that you’re growing familiar with the place. It’s still too big and you’re sure you could get lost without Junhui to follow, but you’re a lot less impressed by all the paintings, the decorations. You’re leaving the King’s desk, who gave you a few last informations about a particular event going on tonight. There’s so many paintings of him in the castle, the first one you noticed was an old representation of him. All of them are extremely formal, he’s wearing traditional dresses in all of them, long sleeves and neutral looks. In all of them, he’s standing in the middle, they all look the same. Long hair tugged in a bun, sticks holding his hair, luxurious fabric around his body, small details in gold. The only one that’s different is near his apartments, you think that the proximity shows how much he prefers this one. It’s also the most recent painting, made for his 21th birthday. He’s sitting in a leather chair, his expression says so much more. His eyes are playful, a smirk decorates his lips, and for once, his hair is short. He cut his hair on the day of his birthday, rumour has it that he begged his father for years. Paintings of the royal family are everywhere, it’s also the only time you see his mother. The Queen, for some reason, stays in her apartments and you never saw her after two weeks. In some of them, Junhui’s sister’s also there. Years ago, she got married to another Prince and left the country, she rarely ever comes back. The last figure is Junhui’s younger brother. Only a year younger, but his reputation is so much better than his brother’s. You know that he is abroad for school, he rarely ever appears on the tabloids but whenever he does, it’s for his amazing skills in soccer, his graduation day, his good actions.

When you get back in front of the Prince’s apartment, you knock on the wooden door and wait for his response. “It’s opened.” It’s like he knows who’s behind the door, and finds his attitude again.

“You should get dressed, Your Highness, the ball should start soon.” He looks up from his phone, laying on his bed, leg dangling from the mattress. He’s still in his night clothes, hair messy. Today had been a rather calm day, a day where he didn’t do anything to you, letting you rest. If you didn’t know that he wanted you out, you would probably think that all the things he was doing were probably just small pranks. From locking your door, to stopping the water whenever you showered, or even adding god knows what in your food, all of these things were harmless. None of them gave you the thought to leave, but tonight, you didn’t know that he was taking a step further.

“I will, soon.”, he simply said, and his calm behaviour almost made you raise an eyebrow.

“Your father wants you to get ready and wait for him in his desk in an hour.”, you informed, closing the door behind you. He only hummed, cutting the conversation short, and you didn’t want it to go further anyways, since you also had to get dressed. Being the Prince’s bodyguard, you had to stick to him tonight more than never. A lot of people were invited to the ball, and anything could happen there. The King made it clear that he didn’t want anything to happen, and he also wanted Junhui to stay until the end, since he apparently had the habit to disappear after an hour. This ball was also Junhui’s chance to redeem himself and behave in the right way. As you walked towards your room, you remembered Jeonghan’s lesson on how to hide weapon while wearing a dress, but your thoughts stopped as soon as you opened the closet. Your eyes immediately land on the red fabric, hanging on the metal bar, something is wrong. You don’t remember your dress being this short, or having this cut on the side. Your dress was ruined.

“Guess you’re not coming tonight, then.”, and you didn’t even have to turn around to know that Junhui was leaning against the doorframe of the guest room, a smirk on his face. Day after day, you get more and more convinced that he’s a child. And you don’t understand his motives. He doesn’t give you a second look and walks away, and you have to reprimand the rage bubbling in your chest. The dress he just ruined and torn was a gift from Jeonghan, it was a piece of clothing you held close to your heart and you also couldn’t go to the ball without a dress, it seemed like managed to keep you from doing your job this time. You even feel like throwing something at the back of his head.

He could’ve won, if only, you weren’t in a castle.

Maybe he thinks you’re leaving for good when you leave his apartments for a moment, but he can’t hide his puzzled look when you come back and comfortably sit on one of the chair near his bed. For a moment, you wonder why he wants you gone so bad, as he quickly styles his hair, maybe he sees you as someone here to take his freedom away, but you’re only doing your job. After all, he doesn’t seem so bad at hiding his emotions and playing the good prince, so you wonder why he doesn’t play the role everyday, if it’s a role. You notice his sided looked, like he wants to ask you what you’re doing here again but his mouth stays shut until someone knocks on the door again.

“Come in.”, he says, and in the back of his mind, he thinks it’s his father behind the door, but he’s more than surprised when Yura, one of the domestic you sympathised with, enters the room.

“Your Highness.”, she greets the Prince before she turns towards your figure and gives you a boxy smile. Her short blonde hair was straightened for the ball tonight, her usual working clothes gone for a fancier looking uniform that all the domestic were wearing. The dark fabric of the jacket contrasted with the blue lenses she was wearing, and the red lipstick on her lips. “There you go, it should be your size.”, her voice bounces on the walls, and she seems oblivion to the tension in the air, an excited noise coming from her mouth when he hands you a black fabric. You take it with a smile, thanking her with a movement of the hand. You don’t really look at the dress itself, before she moves in the room.

“How did you even torn that dress ?” she asks, and move towards your room to get the ruined fabric. She leaves for a quick moment, your eyes meet Junhui’s, big and surprised. “Oh, you know, having knifes under your clothes does that sometimes.”, you fake laugh, never breaking the eye contact with the Prince.

“Guess I’m going to the ball, Your Highness.”

You almost don’t recognise the hall, all the lights are reflecting in the chandeliers, colourful flowers are decorating the stairs, the delicate smell of food fill your nose. The music is soft enough to let the guests talk without raising their voices, loud enough to be appreciated. The castle is full with well dressed, wealthy people. You can’t help but notice how most, it not all, mans are wearing dark suits with patterns, white button ups and matching pants. Their shoes aren’t the only shiny things when you notice the multiple necklaces most of them are wearing, while others wear a set of rings around their fingers. The ladies’ clothes are a lot more diversified. For short red dresses, to long black ones, they all look too pricy for you and you suddenly feel like you’re not fancy enough. Their makeup was probably made by a professional, alongside their hair. You’re sure most of them are wearing jewelleries from well-known brands, chokers made of diamonds, rose gold rings.

“Announcing Moon Junhui the first, Prince of China.”, a voice resonated in the hall, everyone’s head turning towards the stairs. There was standing the Prince, his blonde hair were styled back, revealing his forehead. The suit he was wearing looked surreal, the black jacket had patterns that revealed themselves under the light, shifting and disappearing at every movement. Underneath the jacket, was a deep red button up, the silk fabric is lightly opened at the very top, revealing the beginning of the Prince’s collarbones. It looks like the artisans made gloves with the same fabric, perfectly hugging his fingers and you feel like in a few days, people are going to leave their rings for gloves. The part of his outfit he likes the most is probably the choker he’s wearing low on his neck, black diamond decorating his neck, he knows he looks good and a smirk is the last decoration as everyone shifts they attention to him.

You, a little back, take the time to detail everyone in the room. From your spot, dominating the crowd, you find the perfect chance to see if anyone is acting strange, evaluating the risk. However, your mind keeps getting back on what you’re wearing, the black dress hugging your body wasn’t the best to hide every weapon. You’re only wearing the ring you always have on you and try to stay as natural as possible when everyone’s attention turn towards you. They’re expecting the men to announce you, they have no idea what you’re doing here, not dressed as much as everyone else, a little in the background but still close to the Prince. But he doesn’t say anything, you’re not supposed to be announced anyways and murmurs start to rise when they understand that your identity will stay hidden, and the Prince starts going down the stairs.

You never thought you would ever agree with the Prince, but balls are indeed really boring. You feel like they’re playing the same melody over and over again, he has to greet everyone with the same smile, the same words, it’s a routine and you understand how bored he must feel. Everyone greets him with the same words, so much so that it became white nose, and your eyes only search for any weapons hidden by the person he’s talking to. No one asks who you are, and it’s for the best, until Junhui finally comes to a stop, in front of a young men who looks around the same age.

“Minghao, I’m so happy you’re here.”, Junhui breathes, his forehead leans against the other’s shoulder, and the one named Minghao pats his back.

“You’ve seen everyone ?”, he asks and as they talk, you detail his bleached white hair, all black outfit decorated with silver details. You notice his ear piercing, eyes moving down, nothing looks odd his outfit, no bumps. And his body language doesn’t alarm anything either, he looks familiar with the Prince, so much that he asks the question everyone has on their tongue.

“Aren’t you going to tell me who this is ?”, he asks and his eyes lock in yours, you don’t know who he is but greet him with a bow anyways, making him smile.

“Uh, yeah. This is my “babysitter””, he says, doing the quotes with his fingers. You stay still at his side, not saying a word as you’re supposed to stay in the back, faded.

“Does your babysitter have a name.”, he asks, not leaving your eyes and you wonder why he’s so interested in who you are.

“Is it really that important.”, simply says the Prince and you almost feel like hitting his side before you finally open your mouth.

“Y/N”, you smile, and you can’t help but notice the strange look Junhui give you, or maybe he’s giving it to his friend as he reaches for your hand and quickly presses his lips on the back of it. Week : three. On the third week, you actually feel like the Prince babysitter. It was already a growing feeling when you had to drag him to his bed, when he had a little bit too much to drink at the ball. You remember how he was drinking everything he saw, from the pink-ish bubbling strawberry beverage to the transparent one in the small glass. It’s like he’s intention was to get drunk, always a cup in his hand and you almost had to stop him at his fifth glass. He was getting less and less formal, to his friend, Minghao’s joy. Flirting with girls, speaking so freely with other princes, you understood the King’s command as soon as you met his eyes.

“Where are we going ?”, he giggles, one of his arms resting on your shoulder s you support his weight.

“Your bedroom, Your Highness.”, thankfully, no one was there when he dropped his body on your shoulders, and no one was in the corridors as every domestic was occupied with the ball.

“Oh so after two weeks you’re finally getting in my bed.”, a breathy laugh escape his lips and you can’t help but exhale loudly at the smell of alcohol. You stay cold towards his small allusions, your arm wrapping around his waist to keep him from falling forward.

“No, Your Highness, you’re going to sleep.”, you tell him, and you suppress a groan as his head bumps into yours.

“Don’t call me that.”, he whines this time, he sounds like a child, before a groan escapes his lips and his cheek leans against your temple. “Can’t you just call me by my name.”, he murmurs. It’s the second time that he made this request, but you can’t refer to him by his actual name, it’s who he is, the Prince, and he seems to hate that. His tumbling in the last corridor, and you’re having a fight with your mind, you can’t analyse his drunken words. A hiss falls from his lips and you look up, thinking that you hurt him, but you only see his eyes narrow towards the wall.

“I really hate those.”, he says, his tongue darting out to lick his lips as he looks at the paintings.

“You have to get to bed.”

You tried your hardest not to think about his words after that, and you don’t even have the time to when on the third week, he seems to want you out again. You became his babysitter again when, one day as you open the door, expecting to see him sleepy sitting on his bed, you see him,

And someone else. The person immediately dives in the sheets, the fabric covering her head as a surprised gasp escape her lips. You even take some time to register the situation, you don’t remember anyone entering the room after you, or hearing anything. The thing is, he isn’t supposed to have anyone without you knowing and agreeing. Your eyes immediately shoot daggers at the Prince, after three weeks, you don’t care about his status.

“Your Highness.”, the words cut the silent and you don’t even understand the rage bubbling in your chest, you blame it on how he’s keeping you from doing your job.

“Good morning.”, he’s so detached, hand running in his dirty blonde hair as he sits up. The sheet drops to his waist and you try your harder not to look down as you understand that he’s shirtless.

“I don’t remember you telling me that you were having someone.”, you keep eye contact with him and you hate how you can see the amusement dancing over his eyes, not bothering to hide his smirk.

“Yeah, I forgot.”

And for a quick moment, you wonder, is it New Zealand’s Princess hiding under these sheets ? But you remember that her and her father left three day after the meeting, so is he having someone else when he may get married ? Heat burns your ears, your fists clenching as you walk over the bed. His smirk never leaves his lips until he notices that you’re walking over the girl’s side and not he’s.

“Miss, you need to get out.”, the words are so sharp that you surprise yourself. The Prince immediately shifts on his bed, “Wai-“

“No, with all my respect, you can’t have someone without telling me.”, you don’t think twice and lift the white sheet off the girl’s head, silently thanking her when you notice that she’s in fact, not naked underneath. She’s actually still wearing her pants and the Prince’s shirt from the day before. You don’t know her, she’s not a domestic or someone near the Prince’s social rank, and from the red colour creeping on her cheeks, you can tell that she wasn’t expecting that.

“Out.”, the words are dry and like an afraid child, she immediately gets off of the bed, to Junhui’s shock. Her eyes linger on the knife on full display against your thigh and she doesn’t ask a single question before she bolts out of the room, leaving the door open.

“You’re so annoying.”, the Prince roll his eyes and it’s your turn to narrow your eyes at him.

“I’m just doing my job, Your Highness.”, he laughs at your words, his legs swinging out of your bed. “I don’t want to disappoint your father, I hope she didn’t take any pictures.”, you try your best to stay calm, but your gesture talk for yourself.

“I won’t tell anything to the King, but it’s the first strike.”, your words linger in the air and you hope they will trigger something in the Prince, you hope he’ll finally let you do your job, that he’ll finally realise his future king status. Your voice definitely trigger something, but not what you expected. He smirks again.

Week : four. Week four, a month, and that’s when everything goes downhill. It’s the first time that you lose control, and you hate it, so, so much. Your heart’s beating and you try your hardest to breathe normally, you try everything they taught you to keep your heartbeat at a normal rate, but as you speed walk in the casino, you can’t help but breathe heavily.

The lights of the different machines are flashing in front of your eyes, the stupid music they play whenever someone loses seems to echo everywhere with the sound of coins hitting each other. Your fingers are cold from the weather outside, a few minutes ago, you were out, trying to find the Prince in the pitch black. The hot temperature in the casino made your heat turn pink-ish and even if you can barely feel your fingers, they creep in your jacket and toy with the gun hiding there. “Where is he…where is he…”, you’re almost whining under your breath, eyes quickly scanning every gambling table, trying to find his dirty blonde locks, but all you can see is the dark locks of some business mans or some people’s bold heads.

You can’t believe you lost him, one minute he was there, the other he was gone. You can’t help but blame yourself, you should’ve known. On the other side, you can’t even understand why he disappeared. A mixture of rage and fear takes over your body as you turn in the casino a second time, you can’t even think about telling the King that you lost his son. You can’t even see yourself going back to Jeonghan and see his disappointed look. Your heels click on the floor and you’re so close to calling the car’s driver to help you, when a loud noise catches your attention. A chair falls on the floor and your head immediately snaps towards the noise, your stomach dropping to your feet when you finally see the Prince’s blonde locks. He’s standing in front of a gambling table, one of his hands grips the edge. You’re about to rush towards him and make him leave as soon as possible, before you stop in your stack for a quarter of second. Your fingers leave the gun under your jacket, as a men you don’t know grips the Prince’s collar, bringing him closer to his body. You don’t think twice and your training and lessons kick in as you run towards the Prince. The men looks slightly older than him, sharp jawline thigh as he says something that you can’t catch. Around the other people back away instant of stopping the situation and before you can shout something, the Prince’s fist hit the men’s cheek. He lets go of his collar, letting Junhui take a step back, but before he can fully get away, the men is back on him. His fist is in the air but before he can lay a single finger on the Prince, you step in between. Your first instead is not push the Prince away, the men in front of you is too slow and you dodge his fist easily. Your presence seems to take him back, he waits a second before going back at the Prince who got closer to you. His pushes are weak and you stop him easily, before your own fist hits his jaw. A groan escapes his lips as his body hits the edge of the table.

“What the fuck ?”

The men’s hand creeps in his jacket and you already know what he’s trying to find, and you’re quicker at it, your fingers curl around the gun and immediately points it towards the men’s head. “Don’t even think about it.”

“What the fuck was that ?”, you don’t care about his status anymore, the situation he got himself into was so dangerous, a few minutes and he would’ve been shot. You can’t even think about it, what if he got shot ? One hand run in your hair, shooting daggers at the men that looks outside the window of the moving car. He doesn’t say anything, his mouth is in a straight line, his neck is still red from the attack.

“You could’ve been shot !”, the words escape your mouth without a warning, and this time, his head turns, he looks at you, your heart skips a beat.

Apparently, the news are spread quickly in New Zealand, that’s the only thing you can think about as you’re once again standing behind the King and the Prince in the reunion room. The tension is thick, so palpable that it affects you as well, you don’t even know why. The King of New Zealand is all alone this time, and he doesn’t seem so nice anymore.

“We can’t have that.”, he finished, one of his hands flat on the wooden table.

“We don’t know what happened.”

You don’t know either. Your eyes stay on Junhui, his head hangs low, something is wrong, so wrong, but you can’t put your finger on it. They’re talking about him like he isn’t there and you don’t even know if he is mentally there anyways.

“As a friend, I think you should pay attention to your youngest son.”, the advice is supposed to be subtle but everyone in the room understand what he’s implying, taking the crown from Junhui and let his youngest have the throne.

“Junhui, you can leave.”, and your heart drops to your feet. He doesn’t have to ask twice and the Prince gets up from the wooden chair, the stridden sound of the legs on the floor echoes in the room. “Y/N, please, stay for a few minutes.”

Junhui walks beside you and for a quick second, he catches your eyes as he tries his best to keep his head up, his eyes are unreadable. When he leaves, the door quietly shut behind him, you wonder if you’re going to be fired, but the King doesn’t let you the time to think more.

“I thought it was getting better.”, his back is still facing you, your fingers intertwining behind your back.

“I thought so too, Your Majesty. I don’t know what happened.”, you truly don’t know how the situation slipped out of your fingers like that. Silence fill the room again, and you wished it stayed like that, the next question he asks you taking you back.

“Do you think he will make a good king ?”

And that’s when it hits you, he could be one, but he doesn’t want to.

“I-I don’t know.”, you voice cracks, who are you to decide that ? He, the King, doesn’t even know his son well enough to decide, that he’s asking you, who knows him for a month.

“You can go.”, and you don’t think twice before leaving.

As you leave the room, it’s like your shoulders finally ease, you let out a breath and wonder how you even got in that situation. Domestics walk in front of you, and you try to find Junhui’s silhouette in the corridor in front of you but he probably went as far as possible. Somewhere, you catch Yura’s eyes. The look she gives you says a lot, your façade’s crumbling down, you’re getting way too much involved in the Prince’s situation, but as she comes towards you, a whispered, “He’s on the rooftop.”, your legs run towards him by themselves.

You can’t help but gasp when you open the final door, after running up several stairs, the cold air makes you take a step back. You didn’t even know that you had access to the rooftop, and as you look around, you understand that not having access to it would’ve been a shame. The sun is going down, colouring the pale blue sky with a deep orange. Even from here, you can hear the hubbub of the streets. Some lights are starting to turn on in the streets, the market a few streets away finally closing. The rooftop is huge, but you don’t take more time to look around when you stop the Prince’s figure near the edge. He’s sitting, legs crossed, not worrying about the sand that’s going to stain his pants. The wind blows his hair back and as you walk closer to him, you noticed his closed eyes. He exhales deeply from his nose, his eyes shutting tightly for a moment, he swallows and as you sit near him, he opens them.

“I used to get up here every night when I was younger.”, he tells you, and even if you’re not sure why he is telling you that, you hums in response. You bring your knees closer to your chest, waiting for him to continue.

“Do you see them ?”, he asked moving his head towards the streets, the people walking there.

“Yeah.”, and you turn your head towards him, curious.

“I would get up here and imagine myself in those streets, a normal person.”, he pauses for a moment, head tilting to the side. “After I turned 10, my father refused to let me get on the rooftop again, apparently I could get killed. We wouldn’t want that for the future king, right.”, it’s not a question and you stay silent for a moment. You’re trying so hard not to get involved in the situation, stay as neutral as possible, but how can you ignore what he’s telling you.

“I wish I was someone else.”, his voice waves, and that’s when, finally, he lets you see his true self. His biting back his tears, and it’s your turn to drop your professional attitude. He isn’t the Prince, you’re not his bodyguard, you’re two humans opening to each other.

“You don’t want to crown.”, again it’s not a question, just a statement, an observation. A breathy laugh escapes his lips, water building up in the corner of his eyes. He looks up, blinding a few times. His hot breath creates a cloud, evaporating in the air before he clears his throat. “I never wanted it.”, he admits. Week : five. Week five, you’re not protecting the Prince anymore. You’re protecting Moon Junhui. The sun is starting to rise when you wake up, coming through the curtains, you quickly stretch your arms above your head. Your eyes find Junhui’s bed buy themselves, your door is opened and as you sit up, you try to find his figure on the sheets. You cock your head to the side, stretching a bit more before getting up of the bed. A few weeks before, and Junhui’s absence would’ve made you run in the castle to find him, but after his confession in the rooftop, something changed.

The cold wind erased his tears threatening to fall, and he asked you for the third time to call him by his name. The hurt in his words still lingers somehow in your memory, but his broken smile when you agreed still burns under your eyelids. His voice telling him he wants to leave still resonates in your ears and you try your best to keep the thought in the back of your head. He looks lighter, but your heart is heavier. You’re not supposed to get involved in your mission, yet here you are talking to the Prince like he’s an old friend. You two act like there aren’t any social difference behind closed doors. You find yourself telling him which clothes you like better on him, he tells you which weapons he wants you to carry for the day. You tell him which watch goes the best with his outfits, he gets your dress fixed. He tells you which artists he listens to, you tell him about underground singers. He tells you about his favourite movie, you tell him about your favourite book.

“Good morning.”, his voice snaps you out of your thoughts as he closes the door behind him. “You’re up early today.”, you notice, before going to the bathroom. Somehow, you’re getting used to the luxury of the place, you’re not chocked by all the gold but still feel homesick.

“Yeah, I had something to do.”, his body leans on the doorframe of the bathroom, you cock an eyebrow at his vague answer and look at him through the mirror. Junhui laughs a bit when you keep eyecontact as you brush your teeth, the sound resonating in the room. After four weeks of him being so detached, hearing him laugh so often was new, but it was growing on you. “What was so important ?”, you ask, washing your mouth, and you almost choke on the water when Junhui holds a certain object in front of him.

“Don’t die.”, his hand taps your back before you stand straight again, your eyes never leaving what he’s holding between his fingers.

“Where ? How ?”, you ask, before finally taking your phone from his grip.

“Ah, you know, I can do a thing or two for my favourite baby sitter.”, a smile tugs his lips.

The first person you text is Wonwoo. God knows how much you missed his snarky comments, the first text being him wondering if you died from the Prince’s cockiness. He acts unhappy to hear from you, but it’s like you can see his everlasting smirk enlighten by his phone screen. He asks about Junhui, he wants every detail of everything, he even asks how many girl he has every night. You know your phone is eventually on listen, everything you say gets stored in the archives of Jeonghan’s agency and you quickly change the subject and he doesn’t force. Wonwoo is still in Busan, and apparently, his mission is boring. That’s all he can tell you but you can only imagine how boring it must be to bodyguard a polished looking Prince like Prince Joshua, and you can’t help but compare it to your situation. You get news from Mingyu and Jeonghan, the two of them only have the time for a few texts before they have to go back to what they’re doing but both promise to text you tonight. And he indeed does, but you’re too occupied to answer.

“Junhui turn the volume down.”, you groan from your room, turning around in your bed. He mumbles something under his breath that you can’t quiet catch. From your spot, you can barely make the outline of his body underneath the slick sheets. The tv flashes with colours en enlightens his figure at the rhythm of the loud movie he’s watching.

“Junhui !”, you whine again and can’t help but feel a bit weird when you only wall him by his name, and nothing else. His body moves, from laying on his side to his back, his neck lightly moving to look up but his face is still hiding in the dark.

“Come watch the movie with me.”

Week : Six. You have to keep yourself from cringing on the first day of the sixth week. The weather is biting your skin, and even with the thick leather gloves you’re wearing, you have to rub your hands together. You watch as clouds form whenever Junhui speaks, the cloud disappears around the mic he’s talking in. He has to slightly bend down, his fingers wrapping around the thin metal holding it up. He isn’t wearing any gloves and you notice how his knuckles are turning pink-ish, rings hugging every digits. The long black coat he’s wearing doesn’t seem to keep him safe from the weather as his knees shake from time to time, his legs that other people can’t see. Your eyes are scanning the crowd a bit down, unfamiliar faces gathering around to listen to Junhui’s speech. You personally don’t listen to it, not after hearing it a billion time when he was repeating it in his room. His voice is white noise but you snap out of your thoughts when the crowd applause and and cheers at the Prince’s final words. You see him lightly tug his white turtle neck closer before he gets next to you, and it’s his father’s turn to speak. Junhui’s keeping a smile on his face but you’ve grown to understand which one was the genuine smile, which one was the fake smile. You don’t see any lines towards his eyes and figure he’s growing his façade again, his eyes never leaving a certain point in the crowd. At first, you think it’s just a technic to stay focused somewhere and keep his posture straight, but as lines for between his eyebrows, you can’t help but follow his eyes. They aren’t fixed on the horizon, rather someone making and pushing it’s way in the crowd.

“Is something wrong .”, you ask him, you try to keep your voice quiet knowing how many cameras are following the Prince’s movements. You’ve learned to read every single one of his movements, he can’t say anything but you see his adam’s apple bob up and down and worry growing thick on his eyebrows. Cold air fills your lungs and he gives a small nod towards the crowd, and you look again. The person making it’s way towards the security fence looks more and more aggressive, playing with his shoulders. It all goes too quickly, a voice speaks in your ear, you recognise the one in charge of the security down in the crowd’s voice. He informs you of a person with a strange behaviour, he describes him as aggressive, dressed in dark colours but he’s attitude makes him stand out. He reaches the security fence and seems to stop there, from here, you can see his face, laced with anger and anticipation, but most importantly, you see his face. The business man from the casino. You feel it coming from miles away, adrenaline rushes in your body, your fingers suddenly burns and your skin stings, your eyes never wave away from the men but your attention immediately turns to Junhui when you see the outline of a gun in the men’s hand. It all goes too quickly, yet you manage to remember everything they thought you. Your arm immediately pushes Junhui away, you hear him tumble backwards. The doors of the balcony are open and he falls in the open area, but the bullet is already shot. It resonates in the entire street, people duck down as soon as they hear the noise and from the corner of your eyes you see the King’s own body guard protecting him with his body. Smoke comes out of the gun and before you can see if he’s arrested by the security down, your body is forced backwards by the force of the bullet. Pain takes over your body, nothing you never felt before but it’s the glass hitting the back of your head that shocks you, you hear your name. You black out. Week : Eight. There’s no week seven, because he didn’t come to see you. You still can’t believe it. Your head rolls back again, hitting the metal of the uncomfortable hospital bed.

“Easy, tigger.”, a voice makes you look up again, a pout forming on your lips. Wonwoo walks in your hospital bedroom, his nose scrunches at the smell of the building. His shoes click on the floor before he lets his body fall on his chair next to you. This chair, became his bed for the passing week. After the incident, he got to look after you, a sort of gift from Prince Joshua. It’s been a week and never did he leave your side. He was the first one you saw when you woke up, his sleepy face cracking into a smile when you groaned at the closeness of his body. His hand tossing a bottle of your favourite energy drink on the white sheet of the bed.

“Oh no, not him again.”, his voice resonated in the room again, his eyes looking at the small tv hanging on the wall. You were still sleepy and didn’t understand right away, your eyes following his.

“You need to stop with this.”, he said, his voice softer. The tv was on a new channel, playing again and again the image of the Prince being saved by none other than you. You couldn’t help it when you felt you heart sink, you couldn’t believe it, he didn’t come once. You could taste the bitterness on your tongue, sadness growing between your eyebrows but somehow, when Wonwoo’s hand tried to take the remote, your hand stopped him.

“Y/N.”, his voice called you, but you refused to look at him. Your eyes were glued on the tv screen, the sadness and incomprehension you were feeling for the past days were starting to fade away for pure anger. The image changed for the shooter, apparently, he had been arrested right after. His motives were unknown but he faced the worse sentence in court. After days, the news were still debating on who did it, and why. From time to time, the journalists would mention you, but they didn’t have a lot to say with the lack of information.

“Y/N, turn it off.”, your friend’s voice was a lot less sweet when his voice spoke again. His hatred for the Prince was something he didn’t hide, he hated the fact that you got hurt for him. Hatred dripped out of his tongue whenever he mentioned him, eyes narrow. Somehow, you can’t bring yourself to turn the tv down, you don’t understand. Your fingers linger on the wound, almost healed, but you still feel where your skin got torn.

Week : Nine.

“I don’t understand !”

Weeks after, you still don’t. He doesn’t either.

His hair is messy from all the times he ran his hand between his locks. Sleep is still heavy on his eyelids, after all, you entered the castle when the night was starting to darken the sky. He was wearing a wrinkled white button, he probably fell asleep without changing but you couldn’t care less. The Prince stands still in front of you, still choked to see you here, in his room, at such an hour.

“How did you ge-”, he can’t even finish his sentence before you throw your hand above your head. “I worked here for weeks, I literally took a bullet for you, of course they’re going to let me in !” Anger and frustration are the two things driving your body, they were the one leading everything when you left the hospital and went straight to the castle, even with Wonwoo’s warning. “Why didn’t you visit ? Do I truly mean nothing to the crown ?”

“I didn’t kn-”, his voice cracks and once again, you don’t let him finish. Your voice is loud and you don’t even care if domestics passing by can here you, you’re letting the frustration you felt this past week explode. You’re somehow still applying your lessons, trying to regulate your heartbeat and your breathing, not wanting to give in any other emotion.

“What ? You didn’t know where I was ? I thought you cared !”, pure sarcasm is in your voice, one of your hand lands on your forehead and you take the time to breathe, refusing to look at him. The last sentence seems to trigger something in him. For once, he takes a step closer, but he refuses to get too close to you.

“I was scared.”, his voice bounced on the walls and this time, you have to look at him. His eyes hold something you can’t understand, a mixture of desperation and sadness, his lips are puffy from how many times he bite them. “You got shot because of me. You got hurt because of me.”, and you can see his fist curling at his side, and now, you understand.

You can’t breathe, it hits you again, like when you understood that he didn’t want to be the future king.

“I care.”, the words linger in the air, they burn in your memory, just like the heat of his hands cupping your cheeks. “so much.”, he words are quiet, a whisper, you almost didn’t catch them. Your brain’s telling you to walk away, as far and fast as possible that’s not what you’re supposed to do. You can’t control your heartbeat anymore, that’s not what he’s supposed to do either when his lips crashes on yours, it’s desperate, rushed. You feel like your heat is about to explode when you finally kiss him back and he groans against your lips. Your fingers immediately finds his messy hair while his shaky hands find your waist.

“I’m sorry.”, he breathes on your lips, his forehead meets yours and he closes his eyes.

“Shut up.”, the words leave your mouth and your lips are back on his. The feeling is addictive, his body heat envelops yours, he’s taking over your sense and before you can hold it back, you moan against him. His hands are everywhere, from your waist, to your hips, your neck, he’s everywhere at the same time. The kiss leaves the two of you breathless and when he pulls away, his lips find another occupation, sucking a spot on your neck. Your body is burning and you arch your back against him, and he quickly pushes you against the wall, your shoulders hitting the surface. He’s panting against your neck, the tip of his nose traces your jawline and it’s only a whisper when he requests, “Touch me.” His words send a wave of heat through your body, your head gets dizzy as your throw it back from his new attack on your neck. “Y/N.” He’s begging and you can’t deny him, your shaky hand sneaks down his torso before fully touching his growing bulge, and the whine he lets out takes away all your sanity. He’s moaning from the small movements of your hand, his adam’s apple moves up and down, his teeth catching his lower lip. You find a kind of satisfaction in his neediness, your hands holding his jaw to meet his eyes. He’s trying so hard to keep his eyes open, lightly rolling back at the small pleasure you’re allowing him to get.

“What do you want ?”, you muse, his lips part, head back and you take the opportunity to suck under his jawline.

“Your mouth.”, he moans, and you’re almost scared someone will hear, “Please.” The plea is the last thing you can take, and you can’t deny the heat growing in the pit of your stomach either. Your knees hit the carpet of his bedroom and the image alone makes him whine weakly, one of his hand in your hair. His nails lightly gaze over your scalp when you work on his belt, too eager yourself to have the patience to completely take his pants off. Your heart beats against your ribcage, it resonates in your ears with Junhui’s breathy pants. You didn’t even touch him yet and he already looks wrecked, eyes blown wide, lips red. His bulge look painful against his black underwear, you don’t wait before tugging them down and he gasps as his shaft spread free against his stomach. He’s begging to be touched and you have to press your thighs together to get some relief.

“Touch me.”, he asks again, the sentence breaking when you finally wrap your hand around him. His moan lingers in the air and your hand starts moving up and down, detailing his face contouring with pleasure. “Look at me.”, you command when he closes his eyes. He swallows thickly, before he looks down and that’s when you allow yourself to wrap your lips around him. The effect is immediate, he’s fighting with himself to keep his eyes open and keep the eye contact, his grip on your hair tightening. Moans and whines slip through his teeth, and before he can control his body, his hips roll against your mouth.

“Hm, I never allowed you to move.”, you say, faking disappointment, a cry leaves his lips when your mouth leaves his shaft, and before you can even say something else, he’s tumbling on his words.

“Sorry, please, just-”, he pauses for a moment, lip caught in his teeth, he’s breathing through his nose, chest irregularly raising up and down, “I’ll be good.”

He doesn’t need to tell more before your wrap your lips around his head again, kitten licking and his other hand moves to his mouth, trying to stay quiet. You hum around him as you take more and more, and he finds it more and more difficult to stay still and stay quiet, especially when your tongue runs over his vein on the side. The room is growing hotter by the minute and you feel like you’ll combust if you don’t get him, now.

“What are you doing ?”, he cries out when the feeling of your mouth disappears again. Your ears are buzzing again and you shut up with your mouth again, and he doesn’t complain when his hands find your hips again. Yours finds the button of his button up, short breath are taken between kisses and when you have to take your shirt off, throwing it somewhere on the floor.

“You’re so beautiful.”, you don’t know if he’s talking to himself or to you when you’re only left in your underwear. It’s his turn to towards over you when he carries you on his bed. You don’t know what’s softer between the silk sheet against your hot body or Junhui’s gestures when his hands run on your body, and his lips leave a chaste kiss on the healed wound on your shoulder.

It takes your breath away, your vision blurry when you take the white fabric off of his shoulders, you can’t help but detail the little freckles on his shoulders, the way his collarbones move against his skin, the way his waist curves.

“Do you want this ?”, his voice is soft, a whisper, as his finger toys with the waistband of your panties. Blood rushes to your ears when you nod, you can’t find your words. His lips find yours again, they’re dancing with yours as he takes your underwear off. His chest his pressed against yours and for once, you fell safe. His index curls under your chin and his eyes met yours again as his head enters your cunt, the stretch is delicious and you can’t help but throw your head back on the pillows, a silent moan painting your lips. His movements are slow, he takes his time to fully push into you and he finds an equally slow rhythm at first. His lips find your neck again and when you get used to the feeling, your fingers creating moons on his shoulders, his hip starts moving faster and faster. Sweat forms on your hair line and as you look up at him, you notice a few locks of his dirty blonde hair falling in front of his eyes. Your hand pushes his hair back and he looks up at the gesture, and you can feel him smile against your skin.

A familiar knot grows in the pit of your stomach, and soon, you need more. Your leg hooks on Junui’s hip, your hand pushing his back flat on the bed. His surprised look quickly disappear when he realises what you’re doing, his hands guiding your hips and down, a moan tumbling from your lips. His neck and collarbones are glowing under the light, your movements grow faster and you try to ignore the burning of your thighs. You wonder if anyone is hearing Junhui, he isn’t hiding his broken moans and pants, he gasps when your movements get faster to bring to both of you to the edge. Some of his moans and groans could get the attention of anyone passing by but you couldn’t care less as he closes his eyes again. “Look at me.”, your hand creeps by itself on his neck, not applying much pressure but his eyes shot open at the gesture. It only takes a few more thrusts before you feel the knot burst, your eyes shut, lights dancing on your eyelids. Your walls tighten around him and he doesn’t hesitate to chase his own climax, moving his hips. A trail of curses fall from his lips, “Fuck, yeah”, whines and broken words fill the room, “Make me come, make me come.”, and you met his hips in one last thrust. You have to kiss him again to shut his loud moan threatening to break in the air, and soon enough, his panting against your lips, his arms wrapping around your waist.

“Junhui.”, your voice is soft, as you leave a kiss on his cheek.

“Hm ?”, he hums, refusing to open his eyes as his chest irregularly rises up and down.

“Let’s get out of here.”

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grither55 · 4 years ago

Text

The Princess and the Peasant - (An Azula Epic) - Chapter 37 - Flames That Protect

The birds flew high in the horizon atop a desolate mountain ledge that sat before a vast valley that stretched on as far as the eye could see.

The air was calm and desolate.

Until a large burst of azure fire abruptly shattered the quiet mountain air.

A great stream of blue flame tore above the edge of the ridge just before the princess soared into the air with her young companion cradled against her armored bosom.

Elle lay curled up in Azula's arms with her face pressed into the powerful woman's plated chest while sweat stained callous golden eyes peered down at her.

The small girl released a soft whimper while strong muscular female arms held her tight.

All the while she listened to the older girl release a dominant growl in her quivering ear.

"M-my hero." The blonde-haired girl stuttered with her hands grasping at the now smirking princess's shoulder pads.

"Did you really think that I was going to let you die down there? What sort of woman do you take me for?" The princess scoffed with a haughty roll of her grudgingly exhausted eyes before pulling her little girlfriend into the crook of her neck.

"I…love you Azula-sama…with all of my heart and soul. And…I want you to know that no matter what happens…I am forever loyal." Elle confessed with an adorable blush on her cheeks while she bashfully hid her face in her master's ebony hair.

Never even noticing how golden eyes were staring down at her with an unusually softened countenance.

One that was reserved for her and her alone.

"I…know Elle and…I…am so very fond of you. You're a good girl." Azula spoke with affection in her stern voice while she found herself holding Elle's emotional face into her sweating cheek.

Her flames rippled below her while Elle peeked up at her with a timid smile when long fingernails gently brushed against her fair skin.

And then she began to laugh sweetly while her mighty princess released another dominant snort against her forehead.

"O-oh Azula-sama. My princess charming." The blonde-haired girl swooned with her powerful princess snarling into her cheek.

"Damn right I am. And don't you forget it peasant." The princess scoffed in a supremely pompous voice just before her boots touched down on the ridge.

The royal woman skillfully skidded to a stop with her blushing handmaid in her arms just when Zoe hurled herself over the edge with Nako's wrist in her free hand.

The two dropped down unceremoniously in the rocks while they lay there wide-eyed gazing up at the hot sun.

At the same moment Mai jumped over the edge with her hand pulling Ty Lee up.

The two noblewomen promptly fell down onto their knees panting with their eyes agape in pure exhaustion.

The others quickly followed suit with Saro leaping up with the other soldiers and the Dai Li dropping down alongside him.

"W-woah. My body…it feels like jelly." Ty Lee gasped before collapsing onto the ledge beside Zoe.

She was so exhausted that she didn't even care that the woman she previously hated was laying right next to her.

It was odd…

But she wasn't so certain that she felt the same about her anymore.

That wasn't to say that the woman hadn't been cruel to them.

But…she now saw that Zoe had her positive traits.

Some anyhow.

"Seriously Azula. That was insane." Mai breathed after falling down on her back while even the Dai Li sat panting on the cliff side ledge.

"Please. Maybe to you. But that was nothing to the Great Princess Azula." Azula boasted with an arrogant smirk on her lips before gently setting Elle down while her little girlfriend still held onto her chest.

The two noblewomen rolled their eyes in their leader's direction but ultimately decided that they were too worn out to muster a retort.

"…The next time I see your uncle. I am…going to castrate him." Zoe commented in a casually exhausted voice while the other two noblewomen shuddered beside her.

And just like that they went back to thinking that the captain was deranged.

"Only if we do it together." The princess remarked before falling down onto her tired bottom with her strong hands pulling her pet down with her.

All the while Nako lay on her back with her cheeks beginning to overtake a green tint.

"I…don't feel so good." Nako moaned with her words earning her glances from many of her new comrades while Zoe turned to her warily.

"Puke on me…and you will find yourself longing to return to that climb." The captain stated in a venomous voice while the pilot hastily rolled over only for the two noblewomen to quickly scoot out of her way.

"G-got it-" The chief pilot answered only to crumple over retching while Azula stared down at her with disgusted golden eyes.

"Ugh. I still find it hard to believe that this one came to my aid." Azula sighed with a roll of her eyes while her childhood friends glared over in her direction.

"I don't know if you're aware Azula but it's generally considered rude to make fun of someone that just saved your life." The markswoman informed with a scowl on her sweating face while her leader turned to glare down at her.

"For once the House Lin cockchaser is right. It's very disrespectful to speak that way to such a loyal subordinate princess." Zoe quipped while sitting up only for two pairs of eyes to glare at her and another shimmered in amusement.

"Hm. Of course. I suppose you are right." The princess taunted with her sadistic eyes watching the weapons expert's-tired face boil over in fury.

"Cunt." Mai hissed with the others nearby sweatdropping in humor while Zoe turned to her to spit at her feet.

"Piece of shit." The captain snarled with a hateful expression while the other woman glowered up at her.

"You're not pink! Not pink at all!" Ty Lee snapped from where she sat beside her friend while Azula's annoyed groans flowed into the air.

Along with the sound of the young pilot puking her guts out.

"That's enough! Cease this right now or I will kill all three of you!" Azula roared with her voice echoing into the air while her childhood friends flinched in renewed fear.

"Can…this day possibly get any worse?" Nako complained with a hand over her forehead before shakily sitting up.

"Calm yourself Nako! You're alive. And in one piece." The princess commented with her callous golden eyes staring at the pale faced pilot.

"Yes Nako. Try not to be so down! You're a hero now! You'll go down in the history books as the legendary pilot that saved Fire Lord Azula!" Zoe exclaimed before patting the terrified woman on the back while Azula glared at her with an embarrassed scowl.

"I…am?" The chief pilot asked in a dumbfounded voice only to cough when the soldier roughly slapped her back once more.

"Absolutely! I hereby dub you Nako the Bold! Savior of Princess Azula." The captain announced with her words causing many to sweatdrop while the princess stiffened in increased humiliation.

"Nako the Bold." Azula snorted with a haughty roll of her eyes while Elle propped herself up behind her.

"It has a nice ring to it!" Elle cried out while Azula turned to briefly glare down at her.

"Eh…I just did what any loyal Fire Nation citizen would have done." Nako insisted with her words earning her another stare of approval from Azula.

"Actually, there are a great deal of people who Azula has tormented that wouldn't have done the same." The markswoman stated with a wry countenance while the monarch's golden eyes burned a hole through her skull.

"W-well I can't speak for them but Princess Azula has led me well thus far." The chief pilot protested before wiping her mouth with a cloth while the princess released a victorious scoff.

"And I shall continue to do so. If any would be assassins are listening. Let it be known that only the loyal will be spared from my wrath!" The princess barked with an angry hiss while her paranoid eyes began to glare about once more.

Her two-childhood friends could only shudder when they took note of greatly increased paranoia in their friend's eyes.

The monarch's glare had a terrifying effect on all present.

Aside from Zoe that is.

"No really Nako. Do you even understand just how famous you are now?" Zoe conversed with a hand on the shorter girl's back while Azula's eyed seared a hole through the back of her head.

"No?" Nako answered with sweat on her brow while Azula still glared at everyone present on the ridge.

"Ah well then. I'll just have to set the scene for you." The captain chatted with a hand still on the girl's back while her monarch narrowed her eyes in her direction.

"Zoe." Azula warned in a glacial voice with her lips in a thin line.

"In an astounding show of might. Our great princess just fought the Avatar to a standstill! She broke through the limits with her bending. She mastered her lightning bending in ways never seen before! And she is the first firebender in our day to conduct her flames through a blunt object! On top of that. Our Princess Azula even invented an ingenious defensive bending technique! Pretty amazing, isn't she?" The captain explained with a nod while the princess's scowl gave way to a proud smile.

All the while Mai and Ty Lee just sighed when they noticed their leader's ego soaring through the proverbial roof once more.

"Princess Azula is most definitely amazing!" The chief pilot agreed with evident admiration in her eyes while the royal woman's smirk grew even larger.

"Humph. Of course, I am. Oftentimes my brilliance amazes even myself. Such are the burdens that come with being royalty." The princess sighed in a spoiled voice while the weapons expert rolled her eyes outside of her line of vision.

And then the sound of cheerful clapping resonated into the air while Azula glanced down at her beaming handmaid with a pleased smile on her refined lips.

"You go Azula-sama! You're the best there is!" The blonde-haired girl cheered with a hand tugging on the much taller woman's red sleeve.

The acrobat couldn't help but smile in the young girl's direction.

Elle's presence truly had a calming effect on everyone.

Seemingly even Zoe too.

'Elle's the heart of this team. Things wouldn't be the same around here without her…' The brown-haired woman thought with a reflection of sisterly affection in her warm eyes.

"Just you wait my young admirer…with my strength and your new power combined, together we will dominate this entire planet! The Avatar's tears of despair will only serve as fuel to quench my flames! We will rule for all time! And only woe and suffering will come to anyone who stands in our way!" Azula declared with a violent grin forming upon her red lips while her young girlfriend sat beaming up at her.

The two noblewomen sweatdropped while they sat in a silence so great that they were pretty sure they heard crickets chirping.

Considering how close they were to a forest they likely were.

"D-does that mean that we're a team Azula-sama? You…and me?" Elle requested in a lovable voice with her hand still grasping onto the royal woman's sleeve.

The princess peered down at her with thoughtful golden eyes before briefly mulling over her handmaid's.

She held up a finger to her chin with a regal smile on her lips.

"Hm. I suppose I could allow it. Very well servant. You can be my little battle partner." Azula stated with a nod while her childhood friends stared at her back in horror.

"A-Azula." Ty Lee stammered in newfound fear for the younger girl's life only to sigh when the girl cried out in joy.

"Alright! We're a team! Nothing can stop us! Not even the hardest of video games! We'll defeat every game we play together!" The blonde-haired girl chirped with a fist pumping in the air while the princess groaned down at her.

And once more the acrobat managed a laugh alongside the mutually amused markswoman.

"Ugh. You and your little peasant games." The princess scoffed in a conceited voice with her handmaid still holding onto her elbow.

Only for her attention to be regained by her captain's voice.

"Do you understand how you are a hero yet?" Zoe queried in a playful voice while Nako just shook her head.

"Not quite." Nako answered with a sigh only to cough when her back was slapped once more.

"After accomplishing all of that. Our noble princess. Agni bless her soul. Would have fallen to a completely humiliating death if not for your quick rescue." The captain stated with a nod while the others shivered in terror when the princess's golden eyes quickly lost her sense of humor.

"Zoe! Shut up!" Azula hissed with a fist clenching at her hip while Zoe turned her head to smile back at her.

"That would be a pretty embarrassing death after establishing herself as such a legendary bender don't you think hm? She may well have gone down in history as the only known firebender to push her bending to such astonishing limits. Only to die immediately afterward…stabbed by a nameless assassin in the back and splattered like a crushed grape at the bottom of a mountain ravine." Zoe spoke with an amused voice before pushing herself to her feet.

"Captain…" Saro trailed off only to shiver when he turned around and caught a glimpse of Azula's wrathful face.

The two noblewomen wisely remained silent while their leader leveled her subordinate with a livid stare.

"A-are you trying to get me killed?" Nako stammered before shakily standing while she gulped under her ruler's cold stare.

"No Nako. I am trying to get you to understand the significance of your heroics. You saved not only the princess's life. But her future throne. Her legacy. Everything. That was no small feat. That my friend…was a feat for the ages." The captain insisted while the young pilot gazed up at her with awestruck golden eyes.

"I think we get the point Zoe!" The princess snapped with a sliver of pink in her furious cheeks while she stumbled to her feet glaring at her strangely proud soldier.

"And to top it all off…it was your first kill wasn't it?" Zoe asked with another tilt of her head while Nako stared up at her in puzzlement.

"I…didn't kill him. The princess did." The chief pilot protested only for the soldier to chuckle while she shook her head.

"No, Nako. You killed him. You put the spike in his throat that left him completely defenseless. His life was over the moment you stabbed him. Your first kill was saving Princes Azula. I don't know of any other single soldier that can make such a boast. Only you." The captain declared with respect in her voice while the pilot began to blush over the lavish praise.

"You know she's right Azula. That is a pretty big claim to fame!" The brown-haired woman commented while her friend folded her arms over her breasts with a deep scowl on her lips.

"I suppose so." Azula admitted in a grudging voice while she gazed at the nervous pilot with approval in her golden eyes.

It was always good to know who she could depend on.

The princess mused with her cold eyes flickering between the pilot and her young handmaid.

"Erm…as much as I appreciate the attention. Could you please stop now?" Nako requested with her plea causing the others to sweatdrop while Zoe slapped her shoulder.

"Yes indeed. Nako the Bold! I shall personally see to it that all know the name." Zoe exclaimed with Nako reddening in a mixture of flattery and embarrassment.

"P-please don't. I prefer just Nako." The chief pilot pleaded just as she began to walk away sighing all the while.

"Nako the Bold!" Elle shouted happily while Azula just stared down at her sighing all the while.

"Nako the Bold!" Ty Lee cheered with a grin while Azula turned to roll her eyes at her.

"I'm staying out of this." Mai muttered flatly before standing up on her tired feet.

"Nako the Bold!" The soldiers exclaimed in unison while the captain smirked down at the red-faced pilot.

"Oh, very well. Call her that if you please Zoe." Azula spoke with mild amusement in her voice while she folded her arms over her chest.

"Can everyone please…please stop now?" Nako begged before speedily walking several paces away while Zoe gazed after her with a grin on her lips.

"You are a strange woman Zoe." The princess snorted with a shake of her head while her handmaid stood up beside her.

"Well then. I believe that it's time that we handed our gear over." The captain commented before unhooking her gun.

And then tossing it at the feet of one of the hardened earthbending assassins.

"Take the gear back down and bring both the abled and the injured back up." Azula ordered before throwing her and Elle's gear down while the stoic men nodded in understanding.

"Yes princess!" The Dai Li answered in unison while the royal woman gazed on with an evident delight for power in her cold eyes.

Everyone else present followed suit by throwing the gear down before the gathering of earthbending warriors.

The ten slung the tools over their shoulders before turning to jump off the edge only to halt when the princess called out once more.

"And do be certain that you don't drop the crippled. Try to bring them up alive." The princess stated to the surprise of her childhood friends with an emotionless countenance.

The Dai Li bowed offered their monarch a final bow before leaping off the cliff side.

The sound of the earthbending warriors sliding down the lethal mountain cliff echoed throughout the area.

Only for it to slowly die down when the Dai Li got further away.

"Come. Let's get go find a suitable camp." Azula commanded with her fists on her hips before striding away while Elle scampered after her heels like a loyal puppy.

"I get camp with Azula-sama!" Elle cried out happily while Azula peered down at her with callous golden eyes that concealed her growing affections.

"But first a word of warning…" The princess trailed off in a menacing voice with her cold eyes sweeping over her shivering subordinates.

The royal woman's face contorted into a truly imposing glare while she cast her ruthless gaze upon all but her girlfriend, her childhood friends and the young pilot.

"If I see anyone make even one suspicious move, I will bath every single one of you in the blanket of my flames! Is that understood!" Azula bellowed in a paranoid voice while she clenched her teeth at her rapidly nodding audience.

"A-Azula try to calm down. None of us are going to try to kill you." Ty Lee stammered in a frightened voice while Azula reeled around to scowl at her.

"One of my own soldier's tried to cut my line! Do not tell me to calm down! There may be spies among me even as we speak! Traitors plotting against me!" The princess ranted in a manic voice before stomping off while she pulled on the collar of her pet's shirt.

The two noblewomen exchanged a frustrated glance once more knowing full well that their leader would not let this go.

The assassin had been right.

Azula will obsess about this for the rest of her life until she drives herself and everyone around her mad!

"Y-you can trust me Azula-sama. I'll keep an eye out for you." The blonde-haired girl offered meekly while she was dragged along like a leashed puppy.

"I know I can! And rest assured my pet that if anyone so much as tries to lay a finger on you I will immolate them until nothing but ashes remain!" Azula announced in a possessive voice with a snarl on her regal lips while Elle beamed up at her as she stumbled alongside her.

"T-that's my princess charming! She's so authoritative!" Elle gushed with a hand on her cheek while her big sister's sweatdropped as she was pulled ahead by Azula's stern hand.

Nako scratched her cheek while she followed in the rear.

Her princess really liked this girl!

Even though it surprised her greatly.

She couldn't help but muse that they were cute together.

"Azula! Please don't kill us if we approach Elle!" Ty Lee sighed while following after her seemingly insane leader.

"That girl's freedom vanishes more and more by the day." Mai commented dryly while the acrobat sweatdropped in agreement.

"Pardon me princess. But I can't help but notice that you wasted no time going for your assassins throat." Zoe remarked with a frown while Azula glared at her over her shoulder.

'Damn you Zoe! I knew that you were going to rub that in.' The princess thought with a furious snort of blue fire exuding from her nostrils.

"We were on a cliff! There was no way to bring him back for trial at such a perilous height." Azula scoffed with her fist on her handmaid's shirt while her subordinates stared at her in deadpan.

"Of course, Your Highness. I have no doubts that you would have shown him the same mercy that you implored me to show your friend. No doubts at all." The captain snorted with a trace of defiance in her voice while her monarch scowled back at her.

"It would be unwise to test my foul temper Zoe. I am in no mood for backtalk right now!" The princess snapped with venom in her voice only for her soldier to wave a placating hand in the air.

"I meant no disrespect by it princess. Really. I didn't. Tell me though…what are your thoughts on the nature of the assassination?" Zoe inquired in a curious voice while she walked a short pace away from her furious leader.

"Most likely my fuddy-duddy uncle…. or an unknown face at court…or even Zuko." Azula snarled with pure rage in her eyes while Mai stared at her in disbelief.

"Zuko? Zuko may not be fond of you Azula. But he wouldn't hire a man to try and kill you while you were scaling a cliff." The markswoman argued while her monarch stared over her shoulder with piercing golden eyes.

"Really? Zuko betrayed this country and sided with the enemy. On top of that! My noble uncle killed seventeen Fire Nation citizens today. Zuko refused each and every offer to surrender. In favor of returning on another day. As the enemy once more!" The princess hissed before spinning around to glare at the other woman's increasingly distraught face.

"Zuko…couldn't have known that would happen. When he finds out he'll…be horrified." Mai insisted in a quieter voice while Azula managed a bitter chuckle.

"Tell me Mai. Does that change the body count?" Azula demanded in an increasingly merciless voice while she took a menacing step towards her unnerved subordinate.

"N-no." The markswoman muttered with unusual fear in her voice while she stood sweating alongside the similarly fearful acrobat.

"But he will do so again…won't he?" The princess pressed in a terrifying voice before coming to a stop before her two intimidated subordinates.

"Yes." Mai answered in a barely perceivable voice while Azula stood so close that she could feel the other woman's hot breath on her cheek.

"I do not wish to see my brother brought to harm. I would prefer to bring him back…and once I become Fire Lord, I would clear Zuko of all charges. But Zuko…doesn't want that. Does he?" Azula questioned in a lethal voice while Mai stood in a speechless silence.

"N-no." Ty Lee stuttered with a nervous countenance while Azula glared between the both of them.

"He would prefer to usurp me with the rebels! He would risk my death without a second thought but you dare chastise me for doing the same!" Azula snapped with her fist grasping Mai by her shirt while she trembled in her fury.

The weapons expert remained silent while she stared fearfully into Azula's increasingly unhinged eyes.

Azula is seeing enemies all around her just as she knew she would!

"P-please don't fight." Elle pleaded off from the side with the others standing beside her.

"Azula…p-please let Mai go. She isn't the one that hired your assassin!" The brown-haired woman exclaimed only for her leader's hand to shove her aside.

"Zoe is right about one thing. You have no loyalty to this nation. You probably wouldn't even care if I died. As long as you had your precious Zuko." The princess growled with her face leaning in to glare into the other woman's stunned eyes.

"That's…not true. I…don't wish death on you Azula." The markswoman retorted with insistence returning to her voice while the other woman's golden eyes shimmered in unbridled rage.

"I don't believe you. Which is why…I am going to give you this warning." Azula drawled in a violent voice with Mai staring back with nervous tawny eyes.

"A-Azula-sama please." The blonde-haired girl stammered with her hand tugging on the back of the taller girl's shirt while she peered up at her master's curved back.

"I do not want to kill you. But if you are going to stand in my way. In mission after mission. While my soldiers die time after time again. If you think! Even for a moment that you can cross me so casually without rebuke! Then you are sadly mistaken!" The princess roared in the markswoman's frightened face only for a small body to speedily step in between them.

An unnerving silence filled the warm summer air while Elle stood with her arms open wide between the two feuding highborn women.

Mai gazed down at Elle with grateful tawny eyes while Azula tried her best to glare callously down at the shaking girl.

"P-please don't hurt each other!" Elle shouted in a sorrowful voice while Ty Lee approached from behind gazing down at her with touched brown-gray eyes.

"It's alright Elle. We're not fighting. Right…Azula?" Ty Lee asked in a pleading voice while Azula still glowered down at Elle's emotional face.

Zoe stood silently observing the scene with the most composure out of anyone present.

"You are too soft-hearted Elle for your own good. You would do well to toughen up if you want to survive in this world." Azula stated in a frozen voice only for her eyes to widen in surprise when Elle's eyes flashed with unmistakable hurt.

Just what was it about this girl's bright eyes that made her feel pause?

"With all due respect Azula-sama…I know how to make it on my own just fine." The blonde-haired girl answered with a resolute nod only for the princess to roll her golden eyes down at her.

"You make it on your own? Now that's a laugh." The princess scoffed with her arms folded over her breasts only for the two noblewomen to stare at her in disbelief.

"I…do. I…didn't grow up in an extravagant palace! I survived for eight years on my own before I came to this world! I may be a weakling but I know how to get by! I…survived Rosewood and I survived Felix! I survived by keeping my head low!" Elle exclaimed with heavy emotion shimmering in her eyes while the princess stared down at her in increased surprise.

Even the ruthless captain was taken aback by the burst of emotion.

And most puzzling of all was how she said 'this world'.

But even so the princess hardened her gaze while she frowned down at her overly emotional admirer.

"Is that so? You certainly did a fine job getting by in that filthy alleyway. And you did just as good a job keeping your head low when you had petty bullies trying to set your hair on fire!" Azula snorted in a frigid voice to the surprise and anger of her two subordinates.

"Azula!" Mai shouted with a spark of returning rage in her eyes while she stood behind the now upset smaller girl.

How could Azula go from carrying this girl up a cliff to mercilessly taunting her struggles!

The princess's golden eyes briefly glared over the other woman's face before gazing down at her girlfriend once more.

The mere sight of the girl's misty amber eyes was all it took for her to feel something akin to remorse bubbling up from within her belly.

"I-I…didn't care about searching for food or shelter. Because I didn't want to be anymore!" Elle cried out in a broken voice that provoked a spark of regret in Azula's callous eyes.

The statement shocked and provoked a sense of alarming concern in the three highborn women.

All the while Nako and Zoe gazed on with taken aback eyes in amazement to see just how deeply their monarch was taken with this girl.

"Azula…why would you say something that cruel to Elle?" The brown-haired woman inquired with her fear having gave way to a mix of sadness and anger while the princess pridefully scowled down at their sensitive young friend.

"I…didn't intend to…" Azula trailed off in strained effort at apology while she stared down into her handmaid's wet amber eyes.

Meanwhile both Mai and Ty Lee just stared at their leader for what seemed like an eternity.

When a single tear dripped down Elle's lovely cheek Azula found her lips pursing into a displeased frown.

And without giving it another thought she took another step closer towards her young girlfriend while she stared down into her admirer's saddened eyes.

"I didn't mean to make you cry. Come here. Let's go take a walk together…just the two of us." The princess sighed in a softer voice with her fist gently pulling the sad-faced girl forward while her golden eyes momentarily lost their edge.

"W-why can't you and Mai just get along?" The blonde-haired girl asked in a still upset voice while the frowning princess tugged continued to tug her forward by the collar of her shirt.

The younger girl's innocent query produced an expression of guilt in Mai's eyes and spurred Azula to cast a furious glare at the weapons expert once more.

"Perhaps it's because Mai betrayed me at the very moment that my ship was destroyed…leaving us marooned on this miserable island!" Azula bellowed with returning rage in her cold eyes only for Elle's small body to intercept the two of them once more.

And yet again she found herself halting in her step while her distressed young servant stood between them.

The markswoman stared down at her adopted sister's back with her unusually concerned tawny eyes while the blonde stared up into the crown princess's taken aback golden eyes.

"She stuck a landmine to my back…not yours." Zoe reminded in a bitter voice while Azula reeled around to glare at her over her shoulder.

"I wish you understood Azula-sama. I really do." Elle mumbled in an upset voice while Azula turned to frown down at her once more.

"Understood what Elle?" The princess questioned in a less abrasive voice than mere seconds ago while her admirer's bangs hung in her sticky eyes.

There was something off about her servant's disposition and she already decided that it displeased her greatly.

"I…just want our time together to be happy. I…don't want it to be filled with sorrow just like…everything else that's ever happened in my life. I…want our memories to be good ones. That way…if we should ever be torn apart…the memory will give comfort." The blonde-haired girl explained in a strangely worried voice while her three highborn friends gazed down at her in a speechless silence.

And for once Azula was finding that her words of response were dying in her throat.

She was well aware that Elle was long past the point of being a liability.

And yet…she couldn't stop herself.

"Come on everyone, let's walk a short distance ahead." The captain suggested with a wave of her hand before she began walking in the other direction.

The chief pilot wasted no time in following while all of the other soldiers took to following after them.

All the while the three women stared down at their young friend in shock never even seeming to pay the other members of their party much mind.

"Elle…we're not going to be torn apart. You're one of us!" Ty Lee soothed with a hand on Elle's back while the younger girl gazed away into the distance with a solemn look in her eyes.

"Y-you don't know that. I don't know how I got here. And for all we know. One day…I could vanish in the blink of an eye." Elle muttered in a distraught voice with her clammy hands grasping at her sleeves while her three friends mulled over the disturbing thought in a newfound sense of worry.

They all knew that Elle was raising a completely valid point.

One that all three of them found to be a terrifying possibility.

Not that Azula would ever admit as such aloud.

"You underestimate me. Even if that did happen. Even there is a link between this world and another. I am more than capable of discovering it." Azula declared in a sanguine voice with her fists on her hips.

"Yeah! If there's anyone capable of figuring out it's Azula! We all know how brilliant she is!" The brown-haired woman agreed with a nod while the princess began to smile smugly once more.

"Hm. There is no better. Now I command you stop crying or I will imprison you for all time!" The princess ordered with a commanding finger pointing down at the smaller girl's unusually glum face while her two subordinates sighed in exasperation.

"Azula…" Ty Lee scolded lightly with a hand over her forehead while the egotistical woman ignored her protests.

"It's…not that simple." The blonde-haired girl answered with a finger wiping at her cheek while the princess scowled down at her.

"Too bad! When I give you an order! You will follow it. Simple or otherwise!" Azula exclaimed with a haughty huff while she loomed over the unusually quiet girl.

"Could you just stop and let the girl talk? By Agni Azula. You are ten times worse than a chauvinistic man." Mai remarked from behind Elle while Ty Lee sweatdropped when Azula turned to glare daggers through her skull.

"You not only betray me. But compare my likeness to a man for the third time all in one day?" Azula snapped in a foul tempered voice with her lips curling into a cold glower.

"If…I should find myself sent back someday…I will most likely…be killed." Elle admitted without warning while Azula and the two noblewomen glanced down at her in shock.

"Is…this about your brother?" The markswoman pondered in with a concerned frown adorning her lips.

"In…a sense. B-but not in the way that you're thinking. I…won't be able to duck my head and keep to myself anymore. Not now that I know that I possess this power." The blonde-haired girl mumbled while averting her eyes from the older girl's concerned eyes.

The acrobat stared at her young friend in escalating worry while a look of anger began to shimmer in her eyes.

'I swear Azula…if you so much as even consider using Elle as a war tool. I'll take her and hide away with her. Someplace you will never find her.' Ty Lee thought with her fists balling in her fury.

"Y-you see since gifted abilities are…rare…to say the least. People with them…are hounded and sought out by the governments. I…would most likely be put in some kind of involuntary training program. Which…I will not be able to pass. Not with my health problems." Elle lamented while she chewed on her lip with her friends listening in rising alarm.

All the while the other two women turned to gaze at Azula with their eyes expressing a silent warning not to take advantage of their young friend.

The princess's lips pursed into a thin line before turning around to glare at the two with offended golden eyes.

'How dare they! I have never once mistreated Elle! I just carried the girl up in my arms up a mountain!' Azula thought with a protective rage in her callous eyes while she peered down at her saddened pet.

"E-even if I try and live a quiet life. I…know that it won't take long for Felix to find out. And he…he won't hesitate to sell me to a foreign government. He would do it…without a second thought." The blonde-haired girl spoke softly with her worried eyes staring down at the mountain ledge.

Renewed disgust for Elle's mysterious brother began to flow through Mai and Ty Lee.

And they couldn't help but once more muse that it sounded like a certain somehow, they knew.

Azula knew what was going through their heads.

And it only caused her to gaze at her subordinates with her red lips clenching together.

The princess released a furious snort with blue flames exuding from her nostrils while she watched in grudging concern when her handmaid began to slowly pad away.

"And…when they see how weak I am. T-they'll just…just redistribute me" Elle spoke in a barely perceivable voice with a fearful emphasis on the word 'redistribute.'

"Redistribute?" The markswoman queried in a soft voice with her tawny eyes shimmering in a desire to protect the girl she has come to call little sister.

"I-I…have heard it said that there is a way to take…your gift away from you and redistribute it to someone…more suitable. In…other words. Kill me. A-and give it to someone…stronger." The blonde-haired girl confessed in a silent voice with dread in her eyes while all three of her friends stared on in newfound horror.

And suddenly the image of a fantastic new land that they had all conceived of Elle's world turned into something much more twisted.

They now understood that beneath their young friend's fascinating devices lurked something…darker.

Neither Mai, nor Ty Lee or even Azula herself had yet to form any words of response.

The three highborn women gazed at their young friend with uncertainty in their eyes when the blonde turned to face them once more.

To their disbelief the peculiar girl was smiling once more despite the sad look in her amber eyes.

"And that's why I would rather experience nothing but joyful times with all of you. Because…b-because at any moment it could all come to an end." Elle announced with her tresses hanging in her eyes while the three girl's all stood in a shameful silence.

Azula stood with her mouth ajar in uncharacteristic unease while her fists hung at her robed hips.

If anyone else had told her those words she would have mocked them for being a sentimental fool.

And if they had said that they could be killed for their weakness. She wouldn't care.

But…not this one.

After all of the time that she has spent with this young girl.

The mere thought of anyone delivering a killing blow to her admirer brought forth a deep sense of rage within her veins.

It was stirring up a strange feeling within her that she has never felt before.

It was almost like her bending was reacting to this unknown threat to the girl's life.

And then without so much as even saying another word they watched in growing alarm when the girl turned around and darted down the rocky slope.

"Elle! Where are you going!" The brown-haired woman shouted in a frightened voice while the blonde darted away with her hands gripping the straps of her backpack.

"Get back here Elle!" The princess demanded with aggravation in her golden eyes while she glared after her handmaid dashing off towards the trees.

"What are you waiting for Azula? Go get her!" The markswoman urged in a mutually distraught voice while the royal woman growled in annoyance.

"Cry baby peasant." Azula snorted with pompous shake of her head before taking off towards the tree line while the other two girls took off after her.

'She won't get far. A young girl with a lung condition has no chance of outrunning me! Even when my chi is drained!' The princess thought with her boots stomping into the ground before jumping high into the air to close the distance.

Indeed.

Catching her little servant would be a trivial matter.

Just when she neared the trees, she noticed that Zoe was standing before the start of the mountain forest.

"She went that way." Zoe commented in a casual voice with her hand pointing behind her while Azula nodded curtly.

"I will return shortly. Don't go too far away." Azula commanded with her cold eyes briefly gazing at the other woman's composed face.

"Got it. Although I do have something that has been on my mind for a time now…regarding the assassin." The captain stated while her monarch scowled before turning away.

"It can wait." The princess growled with her eyes flashing in paranoia once more.

But she knew that she couldn't risk something happening to her companion by delaying her pursuit.

"No. Actually, it can't. I don't think you should leave that girl alone. The assassin may have been after her." Zoe advised in an abrupt voice while Azula turned around with a brief flicker of surprise in her callous eyes.

The royal woman silently mulled over the possibility while her soldier gazed back at her with thoughtful hazel eyes.

"Normally if an attempt was made on your life…while you were with a commoner. Logic would dictate that it was you they were after. After all, you are the heir to the Fire Nation throne. But in this case…you were carrying a commoner with the power to counter the Avatar." The captain explained with a nod while her monarch listened closely.

'She…is making a good point…is my uncle behind the attack?' Azula thought with flame spewing from her lips akin to a wrathful dragon.

"But there is no real way to tell. He could have very well been after the both of you. If so…the two of you climbing together was a golden opportunity he couldn't pass up. Either way…if you really value that girl. I suggest you could her close by at all times." Zoe concluded in a serious voice while she watched Azula speed off without so much as saying another word.

All the while Mai and Ty Lee made their way down the cliff ledge while they followed after their leader.

The princess's eyes hardened into a merciless glare with her fists balled up at her hips before bounding into the woods.

Strange as it was.

She decided that she would continue to make good on her promise to protect the girl.

With that in mind she ran through the forest retracing her handmaid's painfully apparent footsteps.

Until…

Elle sat with her head in her knees gazing down at a small mountain stream when she heard the distinct sound of angry boots stomping up behind her.

"You are so fortunate that I am fond of you. I wouldn't put up with this from any other peasant." Azula stated with her sophisticated lips pursing into a scowl while she glared down at the smaller girl's turned back.

"I…know." The blonde-haired girl murmured in a downcast voice while she listened to the much taller woman growl above her.

"I clearly recalling telling you to stop crying." The princess grunted in a stern voice before plopping down on her backside beside her sullen pet.

"S-sumimasen." Elle stuttered in a timid voice while Azula now sat above her sighing heavily with her callous golden eyes peering down at her.

"Well! What are you waiting for peasant? Come here." Azula scoffed with a haughty wave of her hand while she turned to peer down at her crying girlfriend.

"O-okay." The blonde-haired girl answered with a sniff before turning around when strong arms greedily grasped ahold of her.

Her backpack was swiftly removed from her shoulders while she meekly allowed the older girl to drag her into her arms.

"You seek my breasts? Is that right?" The princess pondered in a noticeable silken purr before pulling her little admirer into her arms.

"A-Azula-sama." Elle muttered in a shaken voice that gave away her desperate need for the woman's comfort while Azula drew her into her lap.

"Well go on then. Put your face in my chest if it will stop your blubbering." Azula sighed with a wave of her hand while she stared down at her petite pet pressing her little face into her chest once more.

"A-arigatou gozaimasu princess." The blonde-haired girl spoke in a muffled voice with the barest hints of a blush on her fair cheeks.

"I will not allow it to be said that I do not indulge your desires…childish as they are." The princess remarked with her palms resting on the back of her pretty handmaid's golden head while she held the girl into her armored bosom.

"I know…you're so good to me Azula-sama." Elle replied with her face propped up against Azula's armored breast while a fingertip lowered to gently stroke her blonde locks.

"Hm. You like that? Pressing your face into my body." Azula pondered in a marginally subdued voice before reclining on her backside against a rock.

"I-I do." The blonde-haired girl admitted in a bashful voice while she listened to the captivating woman hum thoughtful above her.

"Very well then. We shall continue to incorporate this into our schedule." The princess declared with a refined smile on her regal lips while her fingers continued to play in the smaller girl's hair.

"I…would very much like that." Elle murmured before shyly pushing her face deeper into Azula's plated chest while she savored the heat that her master's body gave off.

"Why did you even bother running off like that? We both know that you could never outrun me…or any of my soldiers for that matter." Azula commented with her lips pursing into a thin line once more when Elle sniffled against her chest.

"I-I don't know. I didn't really think it through. I…just wanted a moment alone with you I suppose." The blonde-haired girl confessed with her fingers wiping at her cheeks while the royal woman's arms held her tight.

"I see. You were seeking reassurance in my dominance." The princess boasted in an ever-smug voice while the tiny blonde finally cracked a slight smile.

"That's so Azula-sama." Elle agreed with a nod while she closed her eyes against her girlfriend's bosom while stern eyes still peered down at her.

"Do you truly believe that I would ever allow that to happen to you?" Azula demanded in a voice of absolute sternness while narrowing her imposing eyes down at her terrified intended.

The young girl's eyes shimmered in gratitude before pushing her eyes into her princess's black and gold chest plate.

"No. I…know you wouldn't. But…I'm scared. So very scared. I…always thought myself a dud. But now…I'm not. I…don't want this. I don't know what it does other than turn his power off. But I don't want it." The blonde-haired girl lamented in a fretful voice that took the princess back.

"You don't want to possess power?" The princess queried in a bewildered voice while she gazed down at her worried love interest curled up in her arms.

"No! It's no good. No good at all. It's a bad, bad thing." Elle insisted in an adamant voice while Azula listened with confused golden eyes.

"That is preposterous Elle! Power is a good thing. I can help you learn the secrets of your power…we may very well find that it has other uses. Uses…that could be used to destroy those who seek to…redistribute you." Azula explained in a protective voice while she stared down at her trembling handmaid.

It was an utterly foreign concept to her.

To hear her young admirer state that she feels that it is bad to possess power.

"No. No. You don't understand Azula-sama. It's not like here…where mystical powers like bending are the norm. It might be a good thing here. But…it's not where I come from." The blonde-haired girl muttered in a distraught voice while the woman's hands grasped the back of her head.

"Humph. Like I said before. Your homeland sounds dull and unimaginative." The princess snorted with a brilliant roll of her elegant eyes while she continued to possessively stroke her submissive girl's cheek.

"I…would rather be a nameless face in a crowd of hundreds of thousands. Then be an exotic freak for the governments to poke and prod at." Elle admitted with a nervous swallow only to find herself being drawn out of the woman's chest peer up into Azula's piercing eyes.

As soon as she gazed up into her princess's unfathomably strict eyes, she felt a pleasurable shiver travel down her spine.

And then two strong palms grasped ahold of her face with an adorable blush spreading across her cheeks.

Only to gasp in delight when Azula pulled her to the ground alongside her while her smaller body plopped down into the grass beside the woman's much taller frame.

All the while her young heart continued to race rapidly when she found herself now gazing directly into callous golden eyes.

Azula's hot breath washed over her brows before lightly blowing her hair from her eyes while timidly pressed her face into the woman's cheek in a silent plea for comfort.

"That will not happen. Because I forbid it. Do you understand girl?" Azula growled with her armored body stretching out in the grass while drew her timid girlfriend into her cheek.

"Y-yes Azula-sama. A-as you command." Elle stammered in a spellbound voice with her fears beginning to ebb while Azula dominantly exhaled against her trembling cheek.

"I…like you peasant. I…like you a great deal." The princess confided in a softer voice with the barest traces of a blush on her cheeks while she offered her young intended a charming smile.

"I…like you too master. I…would really like to be your peasant forevermore." The blonde-haired girl spoke in a lovesick voice while her heart continued to drum while the woman royal woman's lips curved into a grin.

"Oh, my little peasant. What am I ever to do with you?" Azula sighed in a fond fashion before pulling her little love's face closer until they began to rub noses.

"W-whatever you want Azula-sama. I submit myself to your rule…for as long as I live…for all of my days." Elle answered in a bashful voice when Azula's nose pressed into her own while the woman smiled at her in approval.

"I like that answer. I've said it before and I will say it again. I am going to keep you. I…am never going to let you go." The princess purred in a possessive voice while she pressed the tip of her nose into her girlfriend's quivering nose.

"I-it makes me so very happy to hear that. I…don't want to leave a life like this." The blonde-haired girl mumbled in a tone of yearning only for a shy smile to grow on her lips when the woman cupped her cheeks.

"There…may be the possibility that this power only works on the Avatar. In that is the case…then you are just as defenseless as you were before." Azula began with her fingers grasping Elle's cheek while gentle amber eyes peered back at her.

"…T-that's what I am worried about." Elle stuttered with a worried expression in her eyes only for her anxieties to vanish when controlling golden eyes stared back at her.

"Well then…the solution is clear…" The princess trailed off in a sanguine voice with her golden eyes staring back into emotional amber eyes.

"It is?" The blonde-haired girl asked in a voice that was in terrible need of the older female's guidance while the royal woman smiled suavely before her eyes.

"I will just have to destroy them for you." Azula announced in an enticing manner with an irresistible smirk upon her crimson lips while Elle's amber eyes widened in innocent emotion.

"Y-you would do that for me Azula-sama?" Elle requested in an abashed voice with pink spreading across her cheeks only for her heart to beat even faster when Azula growled against her cheek.

"Of course, I would! Do you really think that I would ever allow you to be brought to harm?" The princess questioned in a voice of grudging affections while a grateful smile began to form on the younger girl's lips.

"No. I know you wouldn't. I know I can depend upon my princess." The blonde-haired girl admitted in a tone of endless adoration while her princess lowered her mouth before her ear with her warm breath tickling against her skin.

And then Elle lay there motionless with her heart pounding rapidly while Azula pressed her lips against her ear.

"I am going to find my way to your world…and then I will kill them all. However, many that may be. Even if it is hundreds of thousands. I will do it…for you." Azula snarled in a wrathful voice with her palms still clutching Elle's stunned face while she pressed her handmaid into her sweat stained cheek.

"I-I don't know what to say Azula-sama…I…" Elle breathed in a voice of tremendous emotion with a moved tear dripping down her cheek.

"Say nothing then. Just know this. You are mine. And I…will not have it said that Princess Azula doesn't protect her betrothed." The princess hissed with her lips against her trembling handmaid's ear while she cupped the younger girl's delicate cheeks.

The teenager found herself unable to form a word of response.

All she could do was lay there with her head in her caretaker's palms when she felt soft lips press a gentle kiss upon her ear.

"Don't you worry your little mind over it. I won't let anyone hurt you." Azula spoke in a supremely possessive voice with her callous eyes peering back into Elle's appreciative amber eyes.

"Azula-sama…" Elle trailed off in a tender voice while Azula's red lips still curved into a refined smile.

"There now…no more crying. You have nothing to fear. Because I am strong. Do you understand girl?" The princess ordered in powerful voice that flowed into her young handmaid's ear while she gently brushed the tears from the blonde's lovely cheek.

"W-wakarimashita." The blonde-haired girl agreed with a bashful nod while she blushed when her beautiful princess held their foreheads together.

"I have something that I want to show you…I want you to look around you and tell me what you see." Azula commented in a spellbinding voice with her palms on Elle's infatuated cheeks just before tilting her handmaid's head to the side.

The small girl peered out of the corner of her eye in puzzlement only for her eyes to widen in awe when a wave of blue fire swept over their entwined bodies.

Until she found herself laying in the mighty monarch's toned arms with a dome of azure flames surrounding her on all sides!

Her stunned amber eyes turned to gaze back into hardened golden eyes just before she found herself being drawn in even closer than before.

"B-blue fire. I see Her Highness's blue fire." Elle answered in a captivated voice while she shuddered pleasurably under Azula's confidently smiling gaze.

"Wrong." The princess replied with a growl while her spellbound handmaid shook under her grip.

"T-then…what do I see princess?" The blonde-haired girl stammered with a shy smile on her lips while the intense heat of the flames caused a bead of sweat to drip down her brow.

Or was it Azula's irresistible golden eyes that were the cause of her abnormally warm temperature?

"You see…a shield." Azula sighed with a charming smirk on her lips while she stroked her fingers against her pretty handmaid's gasping face.

"A…shield?" Elle repeated in a voice of boundless appreciation while Azula leaned in to whisper in her trembling ear once more.

"My lovely little peasant…you see flames that protect." The princess spoke in a beguiling voice with her smirking lips brushing against her speechless peasant's ear.

"Flames…that protect." The blonde-haired girl mumbled with a peaceful expression returning to her eyes while her face fell into the crook of the monarch's neck.

"I…am going to make you a promise Elle…a promise that I've never made to anyone else. So, I suggest you listen well." Azula declared with her arms wrapping around Elle's small back while the girl buried her face in her neck.

"What…what does this promise entail princess?" Elle pondered with a lovelorn blush while two strong arms crushed her into a near suffocating embrace.

"If anyone should ever try to hurt you…if anyone should ever bring harm to you. I will kill them." The princess snarled with her crimson lips contorting into a glower while she held her little girlfriend beneath her burning flames.

"A-arigatou gozaimasu Azula-sama! Arigatou!" The blonde-haired girl cried out in a moved voice with her happy eyes pressing into silken dark hair.

Only to find herself shivering in delight when Azula parted her hair to peer down into her awestruck eyes.

"You belong to me little lady." Azula purred in a softer voice just before leaning down to press her lips upon her paralyzed handmaid's forehead.

"I…I…am Princess Azula's little lady…" Elle trailed off in a lovesome voice while she stared up into Azula's smug golden eyes.

"That you are peasant. That you are." The princess stated in a sighing voice while her fingernails dug into her little girlfriend's plush golden hair.

"Y-you…you are the best thing that has ever happened to me Azula-sama. I…just want you to know that." The blonde-haired girl murmured with her eyes closing against the taller woman's plated chest.

"Humph. I already knew that Elle." Azula stated in a pompous manner with Elle curled up against her chest once more.

The small blonde buried her face in her princess's black and gold plating while stern golden eyes stared down at her with just a margin of fondness in her gaze.

The royal woman's eyes shone with a peculiar emotion while her lips pursed into a thin line.

"Listen…Elle…" The princess began in a voice unlike her usual sadistic self while her little lover peeked out from her bosom.

"Yes Azula-sama?" Elle responded in a diligent voice with her loyal amber eyes gazing up into reflective golden eyes.

"About earlier…when I…made you cry. I…" Azula muttered in a frustrated voice with her cold eyes staring down at the smiling girl in her arms.

"It's alright. I wasn't crying because you hurt my feelings. I was crying…because I don't like to see my family hurt each other." The blonde-haired girl explained in a soft voice while the royal woman's eyes shone with momentary surprise.

"Still I…am…" The princess spoke with a growl coating her voice while the younger girl still beamed up at her.

The small girl said nothing while she watched her monarch struggle to form the words of apology that she has never heard her say before.

"Sorry!" Azula snapped with a conceited scowl on her lips while Elle retreated back into her bosom.

"Like I said…you have nothing to apologize for. Our bond…it's so much deeper than words can ever convey. There are no words or actions that can harm our bond. Because…what we share is timeless. But even so…arigatou Azula-sama." Elle assured in a passionate voice with her hands grasping at her girlfriend's robes while long fingers continued to gently pet her cheek.

"It is…isn't it." The princess answered with a content countenance while she lay with her head upon the grass.

"That's so." The blonde-haired girl mumbled in a serene voice with a sunny smile upon her lips before closing her eyes in her older girlfriend's armored chest.

"That's my peasant…you just stay…right there." Azula commanded with her crimson lips curling into a pleased smile once more while she held her little handmaid against her armored breasts.

Elle nodded in understanding before burrowing deeper into Azula while the powerful woman never released her from her hold.

All the while the princess peered down at her with a sophisticated smile on her regal lips.

Her little handmaid was right.

Their bond truly was everlasting.

Indeed.

It was as endless as the stars in the sky.

It was infinite.

#Azula #avatar the last airbender fanfiction #ty lee avatar #mai avatar #fire nation royal family

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its-morphin-time-xiv · 7 years ago

Photo

Bella stood on the center platform on a rather oddly cold night, her heart thumping deep in her chest as she gazed out to the patrons, their warm bubbling drinks in hand while they talked amongst themselves before her drummer dared to strike the snare. The gentle warmth of the crackling fires pits nearby brought the whispering waves of oaken wood burning into her lungs. A welcome feeling to help sober the poor woman up.

Her mind was in a daze, foggy and filled with so many mixed feelings as she recalled everything that had happened prior to Starlight Eve’. She fell for a woman of magick, only to have them go away and leave her with a book to study to help with the Ranger project. She met with her Ex-wife after a year of absence and silence. That entire night filled with mixed feelings, yet in the end, when that morning sun came, they were in each other’s arms. Taking in what they had missed over the year since their falling out.

The hyur’s thoughts were all a simple mix of confusion, unsure how to feel, yet glad they happened. But.. perhaps that was why she was here? Standing before a crowd for a night of simple post-holiday reverie. Heavensturn had yet to be announced but people were already lining the event-boards with day-to-day activities till the yearly turn.

There was a sharp whistle that called her attention, nearby, perhaps even beside her. A blink of her one eye spotted her old guitarist, grinning like the madman he was. “Don’t blank out on us yes, old girl.” he laughed, tuning his amped six-string one last time before his fingers took a metal pick, strumming the metal chords to signal the start.

[Song link!]

Bella’s voice, sorrowful yet strong as ever as her boot’s heel stomped against the metal mic’s base. Her eye seemed to take in the starry night’s sky behind the bright spotlights and the torches that lit the stage. She brought every word up with a hint of pain to amplify the power that the lyrics could every provide in her starting solo, setting the mood properly.

♪And every time you walk out, the less I love you Baby, we don't stand a chance, it's sad but it's true ♪

♪ I’m getting way too good at goodbyes ♪

As if in unison the band leaped into the air, bouncing with their heads bobbing up and down as their hair, first clean and straightened began to jump up and down over and over as the music washed into the air, sending the waves of the guitar’s thrumming, the bass’ rumbles and the drums’ beats resonating into the La Noscean air.

Bell gripped the mic and it’s silver stand as she bounded on her toes, her one eye shut as she wore a pained smile before stomping onto the stone stage once, yanking her head up to press her lips against the microphone, her voice close and personal as she spoke her lyrics. Her one eye half-lidded as she looked to the patrons, as if making every letter she spoke give a more personal feeling, no doubt stirring the minds and hearts watching.

♪ You must think that I'm stupid You must think that I'm a fool You must think that I'm new to this But I have seen this all before ♪

♪ I'm never gonna let you close to me Even though you mean the most to me 'Cause every time I open up, it hurts So I'm never gonna get too close to you Even when I mean the most to you In case you go and leave me in the dirt ♪

♪ But every time you hurt me, the less that I cry And every time you leave me, the quicker these tears dry And every time you walk out, the less I love you Baby, we don't stand a chance, it's sad but it's true ♪

Now Bella was gently rocking from side to side on her heels, her hips rolling as she brought the metal stand close to her, dragging it across the stone, forcing it to tilt’s base as she led her faithful old band in the first chorus. Every first line she’d pull the mic close for her to speak, only to pull it away as the back-up vocals picked up and amplified over and over.

♪ I'm way too good at goodbyes (I'm way too good at goodbyes) I'm way too good at goodbyes (I'm way too good at goodbyes) ♪

The hyur picked up the entire stand, slamming it into the stone, her boot clamping down on top to keep her grounded as she leaned forward, pressing her body against the metal as she shut her eye again. Her voice rumbled low as she carried every phrase with the pain it inflicted on her, recalling every memory in the passing year that brought her pain. Starting with the loss of her marriage, and every heartbreak that came after in her attempts to keep what she had lost with someone else.

Every memory she brought up as she song dared to push a silver tear over the lip of her eye’s lid, glistening pain as she rocked herself from side to side, her boot’s heel thumping against the metal base over and over to keep herself in the rhythm as the band behind her continued to bound up and down, their expressions clear as things became less obstructed that they understood the meaning of the song and took it, playing every note with pride and sorrow all the same. No doubt it was a spectacle of emotion for the full crowd enjoying the music fully.

♪ I know you're thinking I'm heartless I know you're thinking I'm cold I'm just protecting my innocence I'm just protecting my soul ♪

With her voice raising to continue the song, she pushed herself away from the microphone stand itself, surely to catch and rouse the attention of the crowd once more, keeping them on their toes. A step away from the stand made the mutant’s spikes flare out behind her as she bent backward only to lurch forward, keeping herself a few ilms away. Her hands cast up to the sides of her head, grasping at the air with a burning passion as she centered, her words practically shuddering as the emotions hit her like hammer over a burning iron from a roaring forge.

She kept herself animated, the emotions rolling over her were only to help her portray how the lyrics made her feel; pained yet proud to sing, hurting yet wanting to send her message of how she truly felt. Every memory that brought this song to her was something she knew she didn’t want, yet deserved it for every action she had made.

The shine of the lights did well to mask the gentle tears that would fall in between the bounds she’d make, whether it were side to side or to take the microphone and it’s silver stand with her across the stage.

♪ I'm way too good at goodbyes (I'm way too good at goodbyes) I'm way too good at goodbyes (I'm way too good at goodbyes) No way that you'll see me cry (No way that you'll see me cry) ♪

♪ I'm way too good at goodbyes (I'm way too good at goodbyes) No Oh, no, Oh, no, Oh (I'm way too good at goodbyes) No, Oh, no, Oh No, Oh, no (I'm way too good at goodbyes) (No way that you'll see me cry) (I'm way too good at goodbyes) ♪

Bounding over and over on their toes, Bella did what she could to hide the glistening shimmer that welled over her eye as the final chorus was sang loud and proud by her and the band. It was clear that she and the others enjoyed being able to perform, this much was true but how the song made the singer feel was struggling to be hidden, which.. perhaps played out, helping their performance as the crowd seemed to be grossly captivated by her words and the emotion behind them.

The faces in the crowd could relate to the words in one way or another, this much alone caused their voices to join the band in the ending chorus as they began to give way to the final words.

Belladonna ripped the mic from the stand, bringing it to her lips as she bent forward, the other hand gripping the top of the metal stand as she bellowed out the last refrain. Every word she cried out was forceful, yet her voice never carried beyond the tone she needed to match the ferocious end to her song. Each line spoken started herself low only to raise her voice to the heavens above, the hand holding the magitek mic firmly raising into the sky above as she cried out her lyrics.

♪ 'Cause every time you hurt me, the less that I cry And every time you leave me, the quicker these tears dry And every time you walk out, the less I love you Baby, we don't stand a chance, it's sad but it's true ♪

♪ I'm way too good at goodbyes ♪

The tears she had been doing her damnedest to hide through the song began to quietly stream across the side of her cheek as the song’s guitars started to die away. The drummer’s cymbals were ringing after the final crash, as the rest of the band came to a gentle stand, burned on their energy for the music itself.

Their eyes were closed as they stood tall, heads dipping low to hide their faces. Bella stood in the center between the band, both hands were gripping the microphone before her. Her breaths were shaking while the woman’s body shuddered from the adrenaline that coursed through her tired veins.

The applause of the crowd could scarcely be heard over the thumping of her aged heart. Words were muffled as she felt that this... this night after everything that happened, was a good way to say goodbye.

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

It’s not a Happy Starlight night, but this definitely could help her.

Apologies for not writing something a bit more cheery for tonight, but I thought you’d enjoy this one regardless!

It’s been quite a crazy few years on this blog, and I’m happy I can create content for you. Hopefully you found this one just as enjoyable as the others.

Merry X-mas if you celebrate it, happy holidays regardless if you don’t!

-- Mun.

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thran-duils · 7 years ago

Text

I am in Complete Control

TITLE: I am in Complete Control (Rise For Your King Part 17) PAIRING: Reader/AU King!Castiel SUMMARY: The reader was betrothed to the prince but when a neighboring king decides to dole out justice to your future father in low, he destroys the royal family, leaving you with the two youngest princesses. The mage king takes an immediate liking to you, letting you live. What will you do with this opportunity? WORDS: 2,351 WARNINGS: Angst, Violence

Part 16 || Part 18 || Masterpost || Fanfic masterpost

“Why am I in here?”

You had woken in yours and Castiel’s chambers, unable to remember how you had come to be sleeping in the bed. Castiel had been sitting in a chair by the fire, reading, looking as if he was keeping an eye on you. As soon as you had begun stirring, he had placed his book in his lap, waiting for you to speak first.

“You really don’t remember?”

Sitting up straight, you answered, “No.”

He placed the book on the table next to his chair and pushed himself into a standing position. Walking towards the bed, he asked you seriously, “Have you ever slept walked?”

The question startled you for some reason. “N-n-n-o,” you stammered, rubbing at your eyes. “Why?”

“Because you did last night.”

Your eyes widened at this, “What? Where?”

“Out into the gardens.”

You blushed scarlet, thinking of being outside in your gown. For some reason, this part of it you vaguely remembered. Castiel’s hands on you, keeping you warm as you walked around the garden. It seemed like a dream though. “You found me?”

“Eventually.”

“What do you mean eventually?”

“The guards found you first. I found them and I was led to you.”

This caused you to internally groan. That did not sound good. “I made a ruckus?”

Castiel answered simply, “You were not loud. Unless someone touched you that is. You yelled until I was able to wake you. But, before that? No. You did not make a ruckus.”

You immediately burst into tears, hearing this. You don’t know what came over you but everything seemed to hit you at once. Pulling your knees up to your chest, you cried, “Everything is going wrong!”

His arms were around you instantly and you didn’t push him away. “I am going to fix it.”

“I… I can’t. You keep making me promises and I keep messing up!”

Castiel forced you to look at him, “This isn’t your fault. There was… something with you.”

You hiccupped, wiping at your tears angrily, “What do you mean?”

“You weren’t yourself. It was… an assisted kind of sleep walking if you understand.”

“I don’t.”

There were a few moments of silence before Castiel revealed, “I think it was Mowg.”

You blood ran cold, your tears stopping. “How?”

“He calls to inflamers. It’s how he collects them sometimes. It’s a crude process – as you can see because it didn’t work with you – but it can be successful.”

The thought of him controlling you in your sleep scared you more than anything. “How did he call?” Your voice was small.

“Usually through a spell that you – an inflamer specifically – would respond to.”

“How are you so calm about all of this?”

“I’m not. I was up all night. I stationed guards at your door and a chambermaid in the room with you while I worked.”

Furrowing your brow, you questioned, “Worked on what?”

You were surprised he was sharing this much with you. It was melting some of the ice you had put up against him.

“Blocking him from calling to you again.”

“How?”

“Sigils.”

“They’ll protect me?” You were skeptical.

“I overkilled it,” he told you in response.

You chewed on this information, trying to process all of it. It was a lot to take in so early in the morning. “So, he… Mowg… knows I’m here?”

This was the first time that you noticed an uncomfortable wave pass over Castiel’s expression. “I’m sure he has an idea. But, he can also call inflamers for miles. It might not have been focused solely on a certain area. Just in general.”

“That means he’s close?”

“It can.” He noticed the sinking look on your face and he reached out, cupping your chin. “I won’t let him take you. I wouldn’t let Magnus kill you and I wouldn’t let those men take you in the square. And I did not let him take you last night. You mean too much to me. It is not going to happen. I assure you, Y/N.”

Words sounded nice but they were small comfort after knowing how close you were to leaving the castle grounds and falling under this vile creature’s thumb.

Your throat was dry when you said, “I didn’t mean it when I said I hoped he found me instead of you.”

Castiel’s shoulders fell a little bit and he sat down on the side of the bed, looking you in the eyes. “I deserved to hear that. But, I knew you didn’t mean it, Y/N. You do not have to apologize for it.” You fell silent and he stroked your hand, gently calming you. “Do you still want to sleep alone?”

“No.”

Castiel’s expression didn’t falter and you marveled at how well he was able to keep in his emotions at times.

Leaning down, he gave you a light kiss on your lips, pulling away slowly. You felt an urge to follow him, demand more from him and kiss him deeply. But, you forced yourself to be still.

He gave you a small smile, “I will have the maids bring your breakfast in here if you would like. It is late and everyone else has eaten already. Or if you would prefer it, I will have them set the table again.”

You shook your head, “In here is fine.”

“I’ll have it sent up.”

“Where are you going?” you questioned as he turned towards the door.

Castiel stopped and said, “I am getting information. To protect us.” He paused before adding, “It may take awhile. So, please, don’t hole yourself up in here waiting. You should mingle. But, stay inside.”

Curiously, you asked, “When am I allowed to go out?”

His voice was firm, “When I’m with you.” You studied him for a moment before nodding. “I will be back later, Y/N. Please stay inside.”

<> <> <>

“Your friend is dead,” Castiel announced, walking into the cell. There was blood on his outfit, his shoes, staining his hands. He didn’t have to make it messy but for dramatic effect, as well as self-satisfaction, he had made it so.

Dean and Balthazar waited outside the cell, ready to jump to attention if need be.

The man, Borg, was sitting in the middle of the cell, tied to a chair. He was no mage, only an ordinary man. One that was easily corrupted and would follow anyone for a price. And Mowg had quite an extraordinary way of paying his men, most likely in land conquered and large sums of money. They were all the same and Borg was one that had followed Mowg until the end. And obviously had been one of the first to return to his feet and serve. He had a lot to gain from Mowg returning to his full power.

Borg’s smile was boarding on a toothless one – a change since Castiel had last seen him and he fleetingly pondered what happened. More than likely malnutrition. “I wouldn’t expect any less from you. Your reputation proceeds you, molotok.”

Castiel had to smirk at this as he pulled up a stool and sat in front of Borg. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his thighs, staring sternly at the man. He had to give Borg some credit for not having soiled himself yet hearing his friend scream down the hall. And then having seen the state of Castiel’s appearance. He was either insane, ready to die, or a mixture of both.

“I’m glad to know I have a reputation.”

It was Borg’s turn to be amused, giving a light chuckle. Leaning back in the chair, he commented, “So, you’ve settled down again, I see. Do you feel unfulfilled? Playing house, pretending to be benevolent?”

Castiel was watching him with a straight smile on his face, no amusement.

Borg leaned forward, “Or perhaps you are falling into a familiar pattern of falling for your whores?”

Castiel’s voice was sharp, “Watch your tongue.”

This was all the confirmation that Borg needed. “So, that’s a yes.” The only response he got was a clench in Castiel’s jaw and a slight squeeze in one of his fists. “When Magnus disappeared, I assumed something was going on. I reported it to him.” Borg’s eyes flashed with excitement as he simpered, “He wants her.”

“How do you know it’s a her?”

Borg chortled, “You wouldn’t let one stray far from you if they were as strong as Magnus said. And what safer place than in your bed? And what a smart move. Inflamers being in tandem, especially guided by that glorious warmth in between their thighs, with you makes them so much more agreeable to share their gift, does it not?”

Castiel’s hand shot out, grabbing one of Borg’s hands, and bent back his fingers at an unnatural angle, the crack resonating through the room. Borg’s screams echoed off the walls. Castiel thrust his hand back, drawing another loud yelp from the man.

He settled back letting the man cry about his broken fingers, watching him solemnly. It was a small punishment compared to what Castiel wished to do. Speaking lewdly or ill of Y/N was a surefire way to get him heated and retaliate immediately.

After a few moments, Borg’s cries subsided, he sat there, his head hanging low.

“How close is he?” Castiel demanded, breaking the silence between the two of them.

“Like I’m going to tell you,” Borg mumbled.

It wasn’t as if Castiel needed this information, he had already tortured it out of the other man before he had killed him. He just wanted to see if Borg would crack for his master.

“I would rethink that.”

Borg raised his head and looked Castiel dead in his eyes, “Fuck. Off.”

The corner of Castiel’s mouth pulled up before he revealed a dagger and drove it into Borg’s leg, drawing a new round of screams from him. Castiel couldn’t describe how satisfying it felt to turn the blade, twisting it in the wound, Borg almost pleading with him.

He did not register the uncomfortable clearing of throat behind him coming from Balthazar.

“I’m going to ask you again,” Castiel started. “How far away is he?”

Borg spat through gritted teeth, “He’ll get to you before you figure out he is there!”

He bellowed as Castiel ripped the dagger out of his leg. “You’re not answering my question, mortal.”

“And I won’t, you snake!”

“You call me a snake when you follow the serpent himself?” Castiel growled, his eyes flashing.

Castiel dug his finger into the wound and Borg screamed, tears finally falling. His cries were choked out, his breath short as he tried to see through the pain. It did not make a difference for him when Castiel removed his finger, wiping the blood on his pant leg.

Balthazar and Dean were watching Castiel wearily. At first he had held back with his torturing with the other man but with this man, someone he seemed to know, he was having no problem falling back into something that resembled a Castiel they had hoped was buried. Apparently, he had not been buried far enough to keep him at bay when it came to Y/N and her safety.

They still went ignored by Castiel, him raising his hand, a small, gold flame conjuring above it. His eyes flashed with the color of his magic, his eyes trained on Borg. This was far from over.

The man blinked rapidly, trying to focus his eye sight. All of a sudden, he started breathing heavily, his eyes darting around the room, the pain in his leg and hand forgotten. He struggled against his bounds, trying to escape them and whatever Castiel was hexing him to see.

He begged to no one, unable to see Castiel, but still able to feel his presence, “Please, please! Let me go! Don’t let them get me!”

Dean shifted uncomfortably outside the cell, his eyes trained on Castiel who was watching Borg with an aloof expression.

Borg continued to plead, asking for relief from his hell. His pleas went unanswered as Castiel stood up from the chair, lazily flicking away some of the magic, letting it float suspended in the air in the cell.

Castiel had a small, cold smirk on his face as he turned away from Borg, facing Dean and Balthazar. They had both seen him covered in blood before but it had been a long time since they had seen the blood staining their King come from someone he had tortured like this. And especially from torturing someone mentally like he was doing. They didn’t like that he looked satisfied, striding out of the cell and slamming the door behind him, allowing the man to continue to suffer in his delirium.

“Just kill him,” Balthazar said exasperated, unable to handle it anymore.

Castiel turned his gaze to him and narrowed his eyes. “He not only tried to kill me, he tried to kill Y/N and the small princesses. Do you not remember that? He works for Mowg!”

“This is coming too easy to you is what I’m saying.”

Castiel’s voice was cool, “I am in complete control.” Balthazar said nothing to this and Castiel peered down his nose at him. “It’s for the greater good, Balthazar. Everyone will be protected.”

“You always told yourself that.”

Cocking his head to the side, Castiel glared daggers through his right hand man, who did not back down. Balthazar was bothered, Castiel could see. But as usual, his character flaw of pride overrode the thought to back down and heed Balthazar’s warning. “When I want your opinion on my actions, Balthazar, I will ask for it. Otherwise, stay out of my way.”

With that, he turned, moving down the hall away from them.

“Well, can you at least put him out of his misery?” Dean called after him, desperately.

Castiel did not answer, ascending the stairs. Balthazar and Dean exchanged worried looks before both startled at the sound of Borg’s neck breaking, Castiel’s magic disappearing from the air around him. His head fell backwards, no longer supported by a strong spine.

~~~

CASTIEL TAGS: @prince-halfblood, @splendidcas, @klaineaholic, @letsthedogpackandthecats, @alexastacio, @winchesterforever12 @seirensou @tacos-and-trenchcoats @the-amaranthine @intheir-dreams @marisayouass @afanofmanystuffs @greenappleeyes @holyheadharpies-quidditch-blog @misscherryberry @too-lazy-for-this-world @dragonchantant @morbid-apricots @moon-and-stars-cas @castiels-broken-fool @thebookisbtr @jinxkatkazama @findingfitnessforme @xxmizzlexx @waywardmoeyy @cas-honeybee @musicalraven07 @willowtighe

TAGS NO LONGER WORKING: @demonicguardianangel @stori-teller @tstieff @xxslytherinprincessxx

#castiel x reader #castiel fic #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfic #au castiel #au spn #spn au #my shit

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aristarshower · 7 years ago

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Music Of My Heart

The soft music wafting over the water beckoned Jules. She had had a tiring day at work but as soon as she heard the violinist, her heart lightened. She stood in her usual spot away from the spot of light around the musician. There were usually a few people listening at all times but that day there were none. Jules leaned against a tree, cradling her bag and let the music fill her mind.

Suddenly the music cut out. Jules didn’t realize the song was done and the musician was packing up. She could hear soft curses from the woman. The cursing made Jules laugh. The violinist always looked like an angel with the light framing her head and the flowers at her feet but right then she was cursing like a sailor.

“Who’s there?” That was the first time Jules heard her voice. She sounded terrified. The park was almost empty. Jules cursed herself for not realizing it was so late.

“It’s just me. Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you.” She walked into the light and the woman relaxed when she saw it was just a tiny woman in a fraying hoodie. Jules lowered the hood and wrapped her scarf more securely around her neck.

“Sorry. It’s pretty late and they said it might rain today.” The moon was being mobbed by a bunch of clouds.

“Hey, I have an umbrella!” Jules held it out like a sword and twirled it for emphasis. Immediately, she wished it was really a sword so she could stab herself. But the woman just laughed.

“My knight in ...uhhhh...hey! Is that a Lunar Eclipse hoodie?” Jules nodded quickly and opened the umbrella so her face was in shadow again. There was no way for the woman to recognize her but the habit was hard to drop.

“I love their music!” The woman continued packing while talking. Jules helped her up and held the umbrella over both of them.

The skies opened up and threw up a whole lot of water at them. The woman tucked the violin case safely between the two of them so it didn’t get wet.

“Nice timing.” The woman’s voice was soft and Jules melted.

“It’s what I do.” She had to stop herself from winking and thanked all gods her hands were full cause she knew she would’ve done finger guns at the woman otherwise.

“I’m Kiera by the way.”

“I’m...Jules.” Jules mumbled.

“You sure?” Kiera laughed and Jules was ready to ascend.

“Yeah.”

“Love the umbrella.” Jules smiled at the bright silver umbrella. It was ridiculous but Nix had given it to her. She bought it from the money from their first album sale.

“It’s sentimental.” Jules answered and was awarded with another smile.

They walked in silence for a while both lost in their own world.

“This is me!” Kiera announced, jumping into the shadow of a porch, a few streets from Jules’s house. Jules bid her good night without embarrassing herself further.

That night Luna wrote a song about sweet smiles melting her heart and hot fingers tearing her apart.

***

The bar was overflowing with people. Kiera screamed along with everyone. It was intoxicating. She had been looking forward to this for weeks. The Lunar Eclipse was her favorite band of all times. It was really blowing up recently but Kiera had been listening to them since they were a small band posting songs on youtube. The pride she felt when she saw the full room was ridiculous, she knew but she couldn’t help it. Their music spoke to her and it was incredibly touching to know it did the same to so many people.

Kiera wouldn’t tell anyone but she had another reason to love the band. The lead guitarist and lyricist, Luna wrote songs about other women that made Kiera’s toes curl. A few of the songs raised some shit with some of the fans who didn’t know that they were an all-girls band who sang about both boys and girls but it’s 2017 so they left or got over it, no one else cared.

When the music started for the final song it was just Luna on stage. Kiera was suprised, Luna never sang before. Luna was smaller than the other members, barely five foot tall. Her brown hair was shining in the neon lights behind her. The mask covered most of her face but left her mouth open. And that mouth was curled into an arrogant smirk that made Kiera want to set herself on fire.

Kiera’s voice was the loudest but she didn’t care. The song wasn’t the usual kind the band played but it resonated with Kiera. The notes were a little different but she could swear it sounded a little like one of her own songs. Then Luna spoke.

“This song is called “Walk in the park”. I just finished writing it so forgive me if it’s a little raw.”

Her voice was like honey dripping over Kiera’s skin, warm, husky and sensual. The rest of the band joined her as the music grew and Luna started singing. The lyrics made Kiera’s spine tingle. It was everything she expected from Luna and more. There were wolfwhistles and giggles from some of the drunker girls as the song continued.

Kiera stood swaying, the alcohol buzzing through her as Luna sang on, the words immediately familiar and mysterious.

***

Luna took off her mask in the little backroom of the bar. The song was well received. She knew it would be but her heart still thumped in her chest. That was the first time she sang alone.

“Jules! You killed it!” Nix slapped her back.

“Don’t use my real name!” Jules hissed. Nix rolled her eyes.

“Yes your majesty Luna.” Jules punched her lightly on her arm. “Come on, it’s time for the groupies!”

“Nix! Don’t be gross!” Chandre glared and walked out the backdoor. She never stayed after a show and Jules wanted to leave too but Nix was practically dragging her out.

“Let’s go in from the front door, please.”

“Fine fine keep up the weird anonymous thing. Jeez you’d think you were some kind of a criminal.”

“Nix…” Jules couldn’t help her exasperation but Nix shrugged it off easily.

They went back in through the front door. The crowd was thinning now that the show was over and the last call was close. Jules ordered them drinks while Nix chatted to a few people she knew. Jules relaxed. They were all Nix’s friends and family. They knew not to mention the band to anyone.

Someone sat on the only stool left at the bar with a long sigh. Jules froze when she recognized Kiera. Unfortunately the stool was the one between Nix and Jules. Before Jules could react in any way, Nix noticed Kiera. It was hard not to. Kiera usually looked very...proper. But in the weird bar lighting, the golden highlighter and the multicolored eye makeup really brought out the deep brown of her skin and eyes. The sight left Jules speechless.

“Hello there. Come here often?” Nix added a wink in case her incredibly subtle question was misunderstood. Jules slammed her face into the wood. To her utter horror, Kiera laughed her beautiful sweet wonderful amazing musical laugh and turned away from Jules to face Nix.

“Does that actually work?”

“9/10 dentists recommend it!” That got another laugh. Jules downed a couple shots.

“I don’t know if I should be horrified or impressed that you get your dating advice from nine dentists.” The alcohol burned in Jules’s throat and she started coughing.

“You okay there mate?” Nix and Kiera were both looking at her with slight concern. Jules felt like shit when she noticed recognition dawn slowly on Kiera’s face.

“Hey Jules!”

“You know each other?” Nix asked obviously confused.

“My knight with the shining umbrella! She walked me home from the park once.” Nix’s eyes widened.

“Oh, I’ll let you both catch up then!” She gave another not-so-subtle wink but Kiera looked disappointed.

“No! No! It’s fine!” Jules said and all but ran away from there.

That night Luna wrote another song but it was so sad and pathetic she couldn’t bring herself to sing it.

***

Jules walked along the little pond in the park. She hadn’t been able to go there for the past couple of weeks but it felt silly to walk all the way around on her way back from work just because a crush didn’t work out well.

Kiera’s music was slightly audible but if she concentrated, Jules could pretend it was someone else. A stranger playing a familiar song. With a jolt, Jules realized Kiera was playing “Walk in the park”. Luan had wanted to call the song “Kiera” or “The warm wonderful beautiful magnificent queen of my heart” but Nix had stopped her. Jules was grateful. The whole thing was embarrassing enough as it is. She had forbidden Nix from ever speaking about Kiera again and The Lunar Eclipse took their promises seriously.

“Jules?” Jules jumped when Kiera walked up to her. She hadn’t noticed the music stop. She didn’t even realize she had walked closer.

“Hi!” It sounded super fake to her own ears. Kiera’s smile dimmed. Jules felt her heart crumple.

“Hey.” She tried again, a bit more sincere.

“Hey. Sorry about what happened. I didn’t mean to...Nix told me…” She wrapped her arms around herself even though it wasn’t chilly.

“No no no no no no don’t worry about it! It’s all fine! Nix is great! I am sure you two will have fun…” Kiera was looking at her like she grew an extra head.

“You really are an idiot.” Jules felt intensely offended.

“I was just trying to be nice.”

Kiera took Jules’s hand. “Luna, don’t.”

And like an idiot that she is, Jules answered, “Don’t what?” Then she realized Kiera had called her Luna.

“You really are an idiot.” Kiera repeated with a laugh and Jules felt like she was floating.

“Can I kiss you?” She asked before the high could die down.

Kiera answered with another glorious smile and pulling Jules in for the best kiss of her life.

#mine #my writing #wlw #lesbian #romance #short story #this is for jules #julesdap #love u

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xfilesnews · 8 years ago

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FanWorks Wednesdays - ML

by Keva Andersen

We're taking another walk down X-Files fandom memory lane this week with an author who has been a fan of the show since that fateful day in 1993. Meet ML! She's a longtime writer with a fantastic body of work. ML writes with a mix of warmth, angst, humor and insight that's so fitting of our heroes. And with 150 works listed on Gossamer you've got a lot of reading to do.

The show didn't give Mulder much of a chance to rebound after learning about what really happened to Samantha in "Closure" so ML takes that on in "Land of the Living." Mulder and Scully take some time away to sort things out and maybe, just maybe, finally get the chance to move on.

I have a major soft spot for Scully angst, and the time when Scully was searching for Mulder in Season 8 always hits me right in the gut. "In the Bleak Midwinter" is a perfect example of that. We know Scully doesn't share her feelings well, and this story set during Christmas with her family makes me want to reach out and hug her. Bonus points for a more human depiction of big brother Bill, as well.

I remember reading this one over and over when it first appeared on Ephemeral in 2001 and it still resonates today. I won't give away too much but "Age Cannot Wither" is an a/u that deals with "Requiem" and Scully's immortality in a very moving way.

We talked with ML about writing, fandom, and of course The X-Files.

How long have you been a Phile?

Since the Pilot. I’ve always liked science fiction and the premise was intriguing to me. I was hooked from the beginning by the stories. It took me a little longer to warm up to Mulder; I remember feeling a little sorry for Scully at first.

What was your first episode?

The Pilot

How long have you been writing fic?

Long ago, I wrote little vignettes for TV shows I liked for my own amusement. I had no idea that I was writing fanfic. I think the first thing I wrote was inspired by the soap opera “Dark Shadows”. I didn’t even discover that there was such a thing as XF fanfic until S5, I think, when I finally had regular access to a computer. I read avidly for about a year, everything I could get my hands on. Then nearly at the end of S6, I started writing a story that ended up taking years to finish. I did manage to post a vignette for “Requiem” right after it aired, and it was promptly lost in the thousands of wonderful post-ep stories also posted. What a great summer for reading and writing that was!

What inspired you to start writing?

The Samantha eps: “Sein und Zeit,” and “Closure.” That’s the story that took me years to finish (“Land of the Living” for those who are interested).

Who is your favorite XF character to write?

I love The Lone Gunmen (and they didn’t die, by the way). I also enjoy taking a secondary character (a guest star, if you will) and doing a story from his or her POV.

Are there any XF characters you dislike or find too difficult to write?

I’m not too crazy about Diana Fowley, though not for the usual reason. I just find her kind of a blank. I’m going to have to tackle one from her POV one of these days. Same with Bill Scully Junior; on the show, he’s just angry, and I admire the authors who have fleshed out his character and made him more “human.”

Is there a story you're most proud of or that's a favorite?

I love all my children! But I am fond of “Age Cannot Wither” and its sequel, “Nor Custom Stale.” I think they hold up fairly well.

With so many archives to choose from these days, where is the best place to find your work?

Most of my work is available at Gossamer. I will still post any new story on Ephemeral. I have a site that hasn’t been updated for a while: www.invidiosa.com. I also post now on Dreamwidth, and my name there is ML_Griffonnage. There might be a few stories there that didn’t make it to Gossamer. I haven’t tried AO3 yet, but I’m thinking I may start putting some stories there. If I do, I’ll announce it on Dreamwidth and on any story I post to Ephemeral.

You've been well known in the fandom for a long time, do you still write for XF or have your skills been focused elsewhere?

XF is the only fandom I’ve ever had the urge to write for. I still have that urge but RL gets in the way a lot more than it used to. I haven’t posted a story for a long time, but I have one in the works right now.

If you do still write XF fic, where does your inspiration come from after so many years? If you're not, is there anything in particular that caused you to stop writing XF fic?

I always seem to see something new when I watch XF – I especially like looking at Mulder and Scully through a secondary character’s eyes. Or, something in the news triggers a thought about XF. I stopped for a long time mostly due to lots of changes in my life that left me no time to think, and for me, writing starts with a lot of brain time, and then the words come.

Have you written your own original characters outside of fandom?

Yes, but unseen by any eyes but my own (and likely to stay that way!)

Anything you’d like to share about your writing process?

I’ll watch an ep over and over again to find a “hook” or a place to start to get into the story I want to tell. I almost always come up with a title first, which usually ties thematically to what I want to write. Sometimes I’ll hear a word or a phrase that triggers an XF memory or scene, and sometimes that’s all the inspiration I need.

What do you find most difficult about writing?

Finding the time! As I mentioned above, I need a lot of brain time in order to write. Finding an hour or two to just sit and think, or doodle on a page, is in short supply these days.

Do you have a favorite author? (fanfic or published)

My favorite authors outside of fandom are Jane Austen and Charlotte Bronte. Contemporary authors are folks like Kate Atkinson, Lois McMasters Bujold, Charlaine Harris, Neil Gaiman, and Jim Butcher. Inside of fandom, there are literally too many to list whom I love. I’ve been lucky to become good friends with a few in RL so I’ll give a shout out to Donna, Jacquie LaVa, and Tess.

Is there any advice you'd give to aspiring writers?

Read anything and everything you can get your hands on, both fanfic and non-fanfic. Write what you love. Ask someone you trust to read and give you feedback. Pay attention to the rules of grammar! Thank your feedbackers. And, be prepared for the characters to sometimes take the story places you hadn’t originally planned…

Anything else you'd like to share that I missed?

I would just like to say thanks to the folks at X-Files News for keeping the flame alive!

Thanks to ML for chatting with us!

#XFN #Fanworks Wednesdays #Fanfic #fanfiction #The X-Files #XFiles

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yukiwrites · 8 years ago

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Where Your Loyalty Lies [7/??]

Summary: Kamui’s kidnapping didn’t go as planned – She managed to get away and ended up at Silas’ doorstep. They were raised as siblings, but she has always felt different; her fangs and red eyes and urges to run amok, what did they all mean? Will going to the castle as the Crown Prince’s retainer help her find more clues? Will the war between Nohr and Hoshido be the answer to everything?

Previous chapter <=> AO3 <=> Next chapter

Chapter 7: Her own agenda

The night sky was cloudy, as though resonating with her inner turmoil.

Sitting on the grass, soon she found herself overwhelmed by the depth of her choices. At first, Kamui had chosen to be a knight just so the training could tire her enough in order to keep her inner beast at bay. Then, after learning more about war, the then-squire realized that she could hone her skills to not kill but incapacitate her enemies so as to end the war without bloodshed.

So she could finally have all the means necessary to find out what she really was.

And now... Where should she place herself into? Even though she still had the mindset of not killing if it could be helped, she knew she would still need to kill. Could she do it, knowing that the battle might be against someone from her past?

“Da’s a depressin’ face yer makin’.”

Surprised, Kamui looked over her shoulder to see her Sir Gallahard towering behind her, holding a wooden mug with one hand and a round wine bottle with the other. He passed her the tankard, giving the young woman little choice but to accept as he sat beside her.

Silently he poured the wine onto her mug before chugging it down directly from the bottle right after. “Ya wanna talk ‘bout that family meeting ye just had? Ya were all shining-eyed after hearin’ bout the royal invitation an’ all.”

Kamui woefully looked at the dark liquid before placing it beside her and holding her legs close to her chest. “I’m hoshidan, Master.”

There was a moment of silence before the knight burst into laughter. “Bahahaha!! Isn’t that great, girlie?!” He had to dry a tear that almost fell from the mirth. Kamui jumped in surprise, her eyes as wide as they could.

“M-master?!”

Gallahard chugged down another big gulp of wine before turning to his apprentice, a frown and a smile painting his face at the same time. “Why, one less mystery ‘bout yer roots, right?” He nodded and Kamui could only follow suit, her brow furrowed in confusion. “’s ‘nother reason for ye to finish this war quickly AND peacefully like ye wanted, right?” He leaned one arm on the grass and looked up to the shy moon, behind all those clouds, “’cause, y’know’, before ye just didn’t wanna kill for the sake of winning, but now yer got a REAL reason not kill -- though offa course you’ll still have to do it.”

“But that’s exactly--” She finally caught ahold of herself and meant to retort, but he raised his index as he held up the bottle, making her obediently shut up.

“People’re gonna die at war, Kamui; regardless of side you choose to fight for. Even if yer commanding yer soldiers not ta kill, the enemy might not be as kind and ya’ll lose people. Bein’ hoshidan, nohrian, chevois or whatever means nothin’ if yer heart’s not on the right place.” The mention of her name instead of the alias he usually used made the knight-to-be widen her eyes and take his words to heart. He looked right into her eyes and pointed to her chest. “An’ I know yer’s is. What does blood matter for if yer marching to end all wars?! Bahahah! It even makes it more poetic! Imagine: ‘honorary nohrian soldier reveals being from Hoshido after endin’ the war; peace was inside our borders all along!’” He mimicked a herald making a public announcement, finally stealing a giggle out of Kamui.

“Do you really think so, Master?” She whispered more to herself after she stopped laughing, her eyes trailing down to the mug beside her. Finally finding it appetizing, she took a sip before drinking it down in one go. “No, that’s right.” She said after wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, “as long as I have my own personal goal in mind, I won’t need to fear.”

“Now da’s my girlie.” He hit her on the back, almost making her lose grasp of the mug.

“Thank you, Master. For teaching me yet another lesson.” She gave him a half bow as she got up on her feet. “I’ll keep on trailing the same path I chose for myself as a child, but I still have one thing to do before the Knighting Ceremony.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And what’s that?” He asked as she slapped the dust out of her pants. She offered her hand to him, but he didn’t plan on getting up.

“I need to pay my respects to a very dear friend.”

After saying that, the young woman once again bowed to her master and headed back to the mansion. It hasn’t been long since she left, so she found the tea room almost the same way as before.

All three nobles straightened their backs with her return, the air suddenly thick with anticipation. Her complexion, however, betrayed the atmosphere: It was resolute. With one glance, Silas could see that both of them would indeed continue on their paths as knights.

“I have returned,” she said after entering, heading to her mother and crouching beside her. “Mother, can I see the golden hairpin?”

Confused, Eleonore looked from her husband to the table onto which lay the ornament’s box. “Of course, my dear,” she hesitantly picked the box and handed it to Kamui, “but, my daughter…”

“Thank you, Mother. And don’t worry.” The young woman contemplated the pin: it was as thin as her finger and as long as her hand, two golden butterflies resting on each tip of it, each of them decorated with small, blue and silver stones. She closed the box and brought it closer to her chest. “I’ll follow the path to knighthood as planned.”

Silas sighed in relief, his shoulders sagging visibly; he knew his sister well, after all. Leopold was in the middle of doing the same as Eleonore stiffened. “Is that really what you’ll choose, Kamui? I shall respect your decision regardless, but perhaps you could think for a bit more.” The Lady said, putting a stray strand of hair behind her daughter’s pointy ear.

Kamui closed her eyes and slightly shook her head. “I am certain, Mother. Master’s helped me see that, no matter the side of the war I choose, my goal will remain unchanged. Since I already have more chances of crawling my way into the heart of the nohrian army, I’ll do so from here.”

Finally did the Lady’s shoulders sag. “I see. Then I have at least one thing to thank Sir Gallahard for.” She said with a bittersweet smile. Eleonore’s never hidden her dislike for her children’s master, but she had to admit that he was one of the reasons Kamui could face her life so headstrongly.

“Yes, we all do,” the young noble concurred, then looked at her family one by one. “Before following that path, however, I want to visit Kaze,” she gripped the box on her chest, “and deliver this to him; so he can know that he managed to protect me until I could do so myself.”

Eleonore’s eyes immediately itched with tears; Leopold breathed in with effort as Silas lowered his head. Finally his friend could rest.

“That is a noble goal, Kamui,” Lord Lantanoir said, securely holding his wife’s shoulder as she struggled not to cry, “but I’m afraid you will not be able to visit him now and arrive in time for the Knighting Ceremony.”

As soon as the words were out of her father’s mouth, realization sank in. “Oh, no…” She took the free hand to her mouth. She and Kaze had been found on the Lantanoir Summer House, which was at least 15 days away by carriage. Even if Kamui hurried and only stayed for a day or two, it would still take over a month for her to be back – and the ceremony was less than 20 days away.

Silence stilled the room as they tried to think of a way. Before they could even bring up going after the ceremony, Kamui herself whispered an “and the Royal Ball will take place seven days after our ceremony.”

“They will send a carriage to get us and everything.” Silas added, his heart heavy and frown deep. Would Kaze have to wait, after all?

Unknowingly, Kamui had sat over her legs as she hadn’t done in years – the hoshidan style of sitting Eleonore only recognized after studying about the country’s customs – and took one hand to her chin, in thought. Her heart bled for her no-longer forgotten friend. She finally felt not accomplished, but at least a bit more whole: her past was revealed and her savior, treated with respect, at least after what that Hans fellow did.

Hans, Kamui thought with an angry frown (Silas could swear seeing her eyes glow momentarily and almost panicked). There was at least one person Kamui wouldn’t mind not showing mercy to, but even that would have its time.

“It’s okay, Father, Silas.” Kamui raised her head to meet both men’s eyes. “I’ll just need to go after the ball. We’ll be closer to the summer house at the capital, anyway.” She closed her eyes, both hands holding the hairpin’s box. “Don’t get me wrong; I still want to go more than anything – but I also can’t afford to let Kaze’s sacrifice go to waste by losing these opportunities.”

Silas acknowledged with a sad smile. “Yeah. I’m sure he won’t mind. Besides, I’ll be with you to fulfill my promise with him.”

Kamui’s smile mirrored Silas’. “Thank you, Brother. Now, more than ever.” She gave him a formal hoshidan bow, then turned to the older noblewoman. “Mother, would it be alright if I kept this? I want to go to Kaze right after the ball.”

Finally stopping the urge to cry, Eleonore gave her daughter an uncertain nod. “Of course, my dear. But is it wise? You will be going to the heart of Nohr carrying such expensive and rare hoshidan adornment…”

“It will be okay, Mother. I shall never needlessly take it out of my luggage.”

That seemed to have calmed the mother’s worrying heart as she sighed in relief. “Very well. Do be careful, my dear. I couldn’t bear to lose either of you.” She caressed the young woman’s face, looking from her to Silas.

“I will, though not right now. We still have much to rehearse for the ceremony, right, Brother?”

“Yeah, the Master’s not going to let us off until the very last day.”

The ceremony would consist of three parts: The hunt, the swordplay and the vows. Both knights-to-be would need to prove themselves in front of their elder chevaliers in order to receive their blessings at the document Sir Gallahard would forward to the castle on the next day.

The first part, during the early morning, they both would set out to hunt at the neighboring forest to catch the guests’ and, by consequence, the entire party’s, lunch. If they would choose to team up or no, that would depend on them. During late morning, while the game they caught would be prepared, the second part would occur: The swordplay, would, as the name suggests, consist of a mock battle between both squires with their preferred weapons -- Kamui with an axe and Silas with a lance.

After witnessing their prowess in both managing weapons and ability to survive in less than ideal conditions, both siblings would change to sets of decorative armors and kneel before their master so as to say their vow in order to abide to the chivalry code.

And, lastly, there would be a commemorative dance at the ballroom at night. The chevaliers would sign both Silas’ and Kamui’s pledges on the next day, when it would be immediately sent to the castle.

Their days preceding the ceremony were filled with practice: weapon, dance and speech practice. They went back to the wooden swords so as to prevent any serious injuries and, at night, they would train their step coordination. Not two days after receiving Kamui’s reply of her life choice, Eleonore sent for the famous dressmaker Miss Margaretta: it would be her daughter’s first ball out in society and she needed to give a good impression on the Prince.

Similarly, the best tailor, Mister Mountcroix, would design Silas’ outfit for the occasion. Both of them stayed for a week in order to come up with designs that would fit the pair of siblings before leaving with the promise of delivering the complete set in time.

Two days before the ceremony, Master and apprentices sat as such for the last time -- starting from the next morning, the chevaliers and their families would start to arrive and there would be no more time for lessons. The three of them sat around a campfire, each holding a wine bottle in hand: Kamui’s was half-way done, as was Gallahard’s. Silas’ was untouched (he shared that trait with Eleonore, who didn’t enjoy much drinking).

“I’m not even worried ‘bout yer gig, y’know? I just know that ya’ll gon just go an’ make me even prouder than I a’ready am.” The knight said, raising his bottle over the fire, followed suit by both squires.

“Despite knowing the truth behind my past, I’ll remain loyal to my own convictions and to myself -- I’ll honor my vow and fight until I see the last of this war.” Kamui proclaimed, looking at the fire’s reflection on her bottle. Silas shared her proud smile as he nodded.

“I’ll uphold my vow and protect those in need so we can see the last of this war -- and so I can finally fulfill my promise.” He was the one who clinked his bottle on the other two before bringing it to his lips, prompting sister and master to follow. They spent the night in the wilds one last time.

The next day, as expected, Gallahard’s friends and acquaintances started to arrive with their families -- wives, husbands and daughters (strangely, none of them had sons) -- and were allocated accordingly. Kamui and Silas spent the entire day entertaining and receiving the guests, a total of fifteen families arrived until the late hours of the night.

Kamui barely slept, finding herself in front of her brother’s room after a few hours of shifting on her sheets -- the itch had happened sometime last week, so she needn’t to burn energy, but wanted to talk. “Brother? You’re awake, right?” She whispered by his door, doing one of their secret set of knocks.

“I am, Kamui. Come in.” His voice sounded distant and when the young woman opened the door, she found out why: he was writing by his desk, illuminated only by the moonlight.

“What’re you doing?”

He glanced at his sister before going back to his paper -- it was actually a drawing of the forest at night. “It’s just an old habit of mine.” He rested his back on the chair and stretched his arms. “Ever since the first night I saw you entering the woods, I started looking out of my window every night. After a while, I began drawing what I saw.”

“Whoa, Brother,” she gasped, placing both hands over the chair’s backrest, looking from above Silas’ head to the wonderful black-ink drawing of the scenery immediately in front of them. “If you didn’t want to be a knight, you could as well go into art or something. This is great!”

Silas blushed. “Really? Everyone who saw my drawings just said I committed a crime against humanity or nature or something.”

Kamui clearly didn’t understand of art, but to call that a monstrosity? Outrageous! “Surely you showed it to the wrong people. It looks amazing to me, Brother.” She nodded, glancing down at him.

Little did she know that the sight she was seeing was being distorted by the moon’s faint light -- her brother indeed didn’t have the hand for art; but they wouldn’t find out about that in the forseeable future: in the next break of dawn, they would be ready in front of the forest so as to set out to hunt, the fifteen chevaliers plus their Master there to witness their entry.

“It’s finally tomorrow, Kamui.” He said after a while of silence. From above him, his sister smiled.

“No, Brother. Tomorrow is only the beginning.”

“May your hunt be bountiful and the gods watch over you.” Gallahard announced after all knights were present to watch as both apprentices went in together. The rest of the morning would be spent in their getting ready to wait for Kamui and Silas’ return outside of the main mansion, at the site prepared exclusively for the festivities: an outdoors long dinning table right beside a fenced arena and an open kitchen; all leading to the side entrance that had a direct path to the ballroom into which the vows and the dance would happen.

Both knights-to-be came back in the late morning and all could see how they decided to team up: they carried a large elk between them (all four legs tied onto a long branch they used to share its weight). Kamui also had three hares tied to her belt.

“Bahahaah! They’re tryin’ to fatten us, mates!” Gallahard guffawed after seeing the size of the game. “Yer were THAT ‘fraid we’d starve, lad an’ lass?”

They put the prey down with a thud as two cooking assistants from Gallahard’s Power Attachés effortlessly took it away to start immediately working on it at the open kitchen (a third one came to get Kamui’s hares). “You can never be too sure, right, Master?” Kamui huffed as Silas nodded.

“Aight, now go wash up -- I want yer swordplay to happen while yer still winded because of the hunt. Show me yer stamina, kids!”

“Yes, Master!” They acknowledged in unison, running to the back in order to freshen up and catch their weapons. Their score was even for once, but Kamui hadn’t forgotten how Silas got the upper hand at The Pit.

She would win that one!

They fought with real weapons -- an axe and a lance -- though not their custom-made ones. It would be game over if either Kamui managed to break Silas’ spear or if he got his tip in a deadly spot of her body. They almost danced with the rhythm of knowing each other’s movements, the young woman used to twirling her axe around despite not being her own weapon; the man doing the side steps he learned so as to avoid his sister’s powerful thrusts.

The band was instructed to keep silent during the fight, making the audience’s anticipation even higher: knights and family were distributed around the long table in front of the fenced arena, all of them too focused on the deadly dance to worry about the scrumptious smell coming from the open kitchen.

In one of Silas’ side steps, Kamui found an opening and quickly sneaked in front of him, using not her axe, but her elbow in an upwards thrust on his lance to destabilize his balance. It was a matter of a split-of-second reaction, but before he could think, the weapon was shaking on his hand and his feet were tripping due to Kamui’s sudden approach..

The wives, husband and daughters gasped while the knights nodded in agreement as Silas fell and Kamui put her axe in front of his face, his lance rolling beside them.

Huffing, Kamui smiled with the victory. “Now we’re even, Brother!”

Silas laughed, extending his hand as Kamui put the axe away to help him up. “Technically, you’re winning from 34 to 33, but yes; we’re even.” He agreed, knowing that she was referring to the Pit battle.

The siblings couldn’t talk much for their master came running after jumping the fence, quickly slapping them both on their backs. “Congrats, girlie! Da’s one more lesson for ya to learn, boy!” He looked from one to the other, then turned around to the audience and spoke as loud as he could, making the no-longer-squires flinch. “And now tha’s this is done with, we gotta finally fill our bellies!” He raised one arm, and all of his Attachés followed suit.

“Aye!” They yelled back, swiftly bringing the food in.

Indeed they would have leftovers from the party -- the elk and rabbits were more than enough to feed all guests as well as the servants after cleaning up -- Kamui and Silas sat side by side in the middle of the table, their Master in front of them. They had the time of their lives.

Sir Savoy, for example, knew a lot of folk songs and almost danced over the table while asking for the band to accompany his singing. His brother-in-arms, Sir Stenham, had to maul his friend back to his room before he brought dishonor to his family in his mirth. Both sat right beside Kamui, who only raised her mug in approval.

Dusk slowly covered them like a blanket, signaling that the last and most important part of the ceremony was about to begin: The reading of the Vows.

After seeing everyone in, the knights-to-be excused themselves so they could change to their decorative armor -- Silas’ a replica of a Great Knight’s and Kamui’s one of a Hero’s. Sir Savoy still had the rosy cheeks of a drunk, but managed to stay on his feet and, most of all, silent while the Lantanoir siblings entered the ballroom.

Side by side, they took step after step towards the leftmost corner of the room, where their master waited with a silver rapier in hand. Kamui and Silas, despite the nervousness inside their chests, smiled proudly. The day had been bright, fun and fulfilling; they knew that all chevaliers around them already considered both youths as fellow knights, but they needed to solidify their vows.

As they approached the three steps separating them and their master, Sir Gallahard nodded in acknowledgement to each of them: He was wearing his old battle armor, polished to perfection -- at that moment he truly looked like a seasoned knight, the weight of his scars and eyepatch filling both siblings’ hearts with pride for training under such a great warrior.

Kamui and Silas took the knee, as they rehearsed, and lowered their heads. Gallahard’s deep and loud voice reverberated throughout the ballroom and inside their chests. “Silas Lantanoir and Kamui Lantanoir. You both are here to pledge your loyalty to the Nohrian Army. However, to do so, you must vow to follow the chivalry code.” The knight started, his usual accent nowhere to be found.

“I am aware.” The siblings said at the same time.

Gallahard smirked and raised his chin. “What do you vow?”

Kamui raised her head, one hand over her chest same as her brother. “I vow to always defend the honor of someone in need.”

“I vow to always speak the truth and be loyal to my lord,” Silas accompanied, both of them talking in unison.

“I will always be brave and will never run from a challenge nor avoid a treacherous path,” Kamui continued, looking right into her Master’s eye, her smile growing as she spoke.

“I will be charitable and will defend any helpless I find in my path.” Silas finished.

“I vow to protect the honor of my lord and my land until the battle’s won or my blood’s spent.” They said with a louder voice, receiving a proud nod from their master before he touched the tip of the rapier on their shoulders.

“It is here, by witness of Dame Ahelissa, Dame Aphra, Sir Berold, Dame Betsy, Sir Brianus the Selfish,” as he said each name, the knights ackonwledged with a step forward, “Sir Everard, Dame Gussalen, Sir Isambard, Sir Meraud, Sir Raluf, Sir Reimond, Sir Savoy, Sir Stenham, Dame Theffania and Sir Thibaud the Bodyguard that I, Sir Gallahard the Watchful dub thee, Silas Lantanoir and thee, Kamui Lantanoir, rightful Knights of Nohr.”

The newly knighted duo rose after their Master had put the rapier away and turned to the guests. Eleonore couldn’t help but sob, a handkerchief over her face; Leopold shed silent and proud tears, his chin raised up. The siblings looked at each other and saluted the nohrian way, with a closed fist by their chests.

“It will be an honor to serve beside you, Sir Silas.” Kamui smiled proudly, as did her brother.

“Likewise, Dame Kamui.” He flicked his head towards her and they both walked towards their chevalier elders as Sir Gallahard stayed behind.

Claude swiftly helped his lord take off the armor – Gallhard didn’t mind a skirmish or two, but putting on that armor again always brought back memories from the days he lost his loved ones. The butler worked quickly and by the time Kamui and Silas were done thanking the veteran knights, Gallahard was back with his smile, wearing the simple garment he had on underneath the armor.

“Blargh,” he massaged his jaw, approaching the duo, “I dunno how ye both can talk all proper like that all the time, lad and lass. I think my tongue’s numb.”

“You were very dashing, Master.” Silas bobbed his head in respect as Kamui put both arms on her waist.

“It felt weird, like a different person. But so cool!”

“Ya, nuff flattery from yer both. You still gotta open the ball, go ‘n.” He pointed his chin to the middle of the room, prompting both siblings to exchange looks and smile. Silas bowed extravagantly, raising one hand to his sister, the other one behind his back.

“Would you give me the honor to share your first dance as a knight, Dame Kamui, ma’am?”

The young woman giggled, giving her hand to Silas. “Why, yes, I would, Sir Silas.” She replied in the same manner, being led to the center. They held each other at the waltz’s characteristic closed position and waited for the band to start the song.

The decorative armors didn’t get in the way as they treated through the dance floor, their synchrony inviting the bolder chevaliers to dance alongside them. Eleonore and Leopold followed, and soon the ballroom was filled with swirling couples, painting it with a wide array of colors.

The festivities were scheduled to break through the night towards dawn, but it came to a close as exhaustion filled the wives and husbands (as well as the manor’s Lord and Lady) of the knights. Even after seeing everyone off, Kamui felt too giddy to turn in for the night.

She had done it.

She gave the first step towards her goal.

Even if she felt accomplished at the moment, she knew that there was a whole life of fighting ahead of her; of servitude and loyalty. She didn’t want to break the vow she painfully acquired if the worst came to pass and she discovered some dark truth about her past, but she wasn’t going to stop following her own convictions.

Once again Kamui found herself at the clearing, watching the now starry sky – it truly looked like it was responding to her state of mind. Twenty days ago, it was cloudy as her heart, but now – now it was open, like the path ahead.

No matter what the Crown Prince had in store for her (she would try not to have high expectations, though her Master constant mentioning of the retainer issue made that very hard to accomplish), Kamui would face him head on and comply.

The ball was only seven days away, but the carriage would come to pick them up in two days. Their written pledge and arrival at the castle would happen almost at the same time, and Kamui wondered if it would take long for the army’s officials to process their paperwork. She planned on visiting Kaze, but the trip would take twenty days at the earliest and she worried that she would have to straight to the job after coming back.

Which was why she was taking her customized axe with her, alongside the sword her parents gave her after the party was done; a matching pair with Silas’, with the family crest on the hilt and their names carved on the blade.

A new day was about to dawn, as well as a new life for the mostly-secluded noble. She would meet many people and, despite the positivity she felt from her family and friends about her outward appearance, she knew she had to be on her toes. Especially because she still had no clue about what she was.

Kamui nodded to herself, getting up from the grass and slapping the dirt away from her pants. “Don’t let it get to you, Kamui. You lived your entire life thinking short of yourself because of these,” she touched her pointy ears, “but stay strong, no matter what they say!”

The next day was as busy as the previous one: The chevaliers signed the pledge during the morning, and some were already prepared to leave by the time the mid-day meal was served. A courier from the castle had been summoned to take the paper a week previous, so he immediately set out after the end of the signatures.

Kamui and Silas hadn’t time to rest, though: Apart from entertaining the rest of the guests, they still had to take the last fitting for their new clothes for the ball as well as to prepare their luggage for the voyage. Kamui made hers significantly bigger due to her side-trip (they came to an agreement that Silas would remain in case they needed to explain why Kamui wasn’t home if their paperwork was done before her return), and wondered if she should take at least Clara with her.

“Hmm,” Silas crossed his arms, deep in thought, “but they said that we shouldn’t bring our own servants since we’ll be ‘appropriately attended’, as they worded.”

“Yes,” Kamui leaned her cheek on her palm, tired of packing, “but I’ll go to the summer house straight from the ball; I’ll need Clara with me, if not for helping in and out of the dress, at least to aid me during the trip.”

“Ya, but no servants from outside’re allowed in the castle, girlie. Even if ya bring her, she’ll hafta stay in an inn or somethin’ till the ball’s done an’ gone.” Gallahard said from the door. He took two steps inside, “’s not easy to enter the castle, an’ I don’t mean literally, since there’re all those ‘open castle days’ n’ stuff.” He crouched beside the kneeling young woman as she turned around from the bed to him. “’s hard to be summoned to work there an’ even harder to leave. I managed to leave His Majestyfulness’ side ‘cause I saved his neck durin’ a battle an’ he granted me a royal favor n’ all that malarkey.”

Kamui sat over her legs so as to face her master, glad to be taken away from packing. “Yeah, you’ve told us something about that battle before.”

Silas crouched down to complete the three kneeling nobles beside a bed with hundreds of clothes scattered around, a frown painted across his face. “But does that mean that we’ll never be able to leave?”

“Bahahah!” Gallahard threw his head back in laughter, “yer not even in yet an’re already thinkin’ ‘bout leavin’? Relax, boy!” He slapped Silas’ back, making him choke, “survive yer first dozen o’ battles ‘fore ya think ‘bout that.”

The young man glanced at his sister, worried about her future condition. However, he slowly breathed in. It was her own choice; he just needed to be there for her. “You’re right, Master, as always. Let’s get this packing over with quickly – we don’t know at what time the carriage will come to pick us up tomorrow.”

Kamui groaned and complied. A month of travelling with that much luggage and no attachés. Great.

Their goodbye was a fast, though heartfelt one. Eleonore felt light for finally telling the truth to her daughter, and seeing her follow her own path without the burden of her past – or at least with the burden lighter – made the mother that much relieved. Leopold never erased his proud smile for the ceremony had been beautiful and the pledge was already on its way to the castle. Two knight children.

“Try not to be overwhelmed about the palace, you two.” He warned, squeezing both siblings’ shoulders. “It’s a big and foreign place, but I have faith that, as long as you’re together, you can do well on your first ball out in society.”

Eleonore hesitated in reaching out for her daughter. “Kamui, about our talk…”

The young woman turned to her mother. “Hm? About what, Mother?”

“Your suitors, my dear.” Eleonore glanced from her husband to her daughter.

The night before, they had talked about finding a husband or a wife for Kamui. She complied, but of course told her mother to keep in mind that they should know about her job being a dangerous one and her motive a secret until they were ready to listen.

“If it’s a woman, Mother, we will need to know each other first, so it might be complicated…” She took a sip of her tea. Marriage has always been a common topic ever since she was a child, so she didn’t mind her mother choosing a suitor for her. But for the lineage to continue in a same-sex marriage, the spouse’s bonds would have to be very strong for a Bond child to be born unto them.

And Kamui was sure no lady would have time nor patience to court a newly knighted full of work, dangerous missions and little time off such as herself.

“Of course, dear. I shall keep that in mind when selecting someone. We will speak through letters, hm?” Lady Lantanoir caressed Kamui’s face before turning to her son. “And you, my child? May I also look for suitors for you? Do you also have a preference?”

Silas choked on the tea he was sipping and unambiguously glanced at Kamui before hiding his face under the handkerchief so as to dry his mouth and chin. “I, uh, haven’t thought about marriage yet, Mother. Forgive me, I need a bit more time.”

Eleonore’s words by the gates brought these memories back to Silas, his eyes woefully looking at his sister as she smiled at her mother.

“Worry not, Mother. I shall wear my hair up on the ball, so you can be certain that they all will know that I am available for marriage.” The young woman squeezed her mother’s hands before kissing them with respect. “Now we have to go. Goodbye, Mother; Father. Thank you for everything.”

Silas bowed, blinking to take himself away from the trance of last night’s memories and bowed. “Goodbye, Father; Mother. See you when I come back.”

“Safe travels, children.” The parents replied at the same time, watching as both young nobles turned around to get inside the royal carriage.

The coachman treated them with the utmost respect, like they were his masters. It’s made the trip less awkward since they felt welcomed by at least one person from the castle – even if it was one of such low echelon.

The first four days passed without much trouble (Kamui’s itch was scheduled to happen sometime next week, so she was at least in peace regarding that) and, on the day of the ball, both nobles had to stop at a high-class inn so as to use the help of its servants to put them inside their party garments.

At Strömborg, the western castle, the ball started as soon as dusk fell, though that was a manner of speaking since the capital has always been darker than the rest of the kingdom. While Kamui and Silas were getting ready at the inn, half of the invitees occupied the large, almost gargantuan, ballroom.

It was of a grandiosity without equal: the dark marble floor contrasted with the yellow and purple lighting, magically extended with the Second Prince’s own signature on the formulae. The main entrance led directly to the room, through a long, red-carpeted corridor. Since the castle had been built inside the stone, it had many lower levels, and the ballroom was one of them: as soon as someone entered, they would be greeted by two flights of U-shaped stairs that would meet again in the middle at an intermediate landing before going further down at a bullnose as the last step, its railing a beautifully carved volute.

And, for as far as the eye could see, the extravagant decorations shone at each step as the band played a soft and peppy tune.

The ball was in commemoration of the vernal equinox and festivities held in honor of the gods of harvest were being held throughout the kingdom – since nohrian soil lacked many nutrients and its sky was rarely blessed with much sunlight, the people relied heavily on what they could plant in these conditions. Trading with neighboring countries was also an essential part of Nohr’s economy, and keeping a good relationship with them through the news of the bounty festivals were crucial for the dark kingdom’s survival.

At the party, hosted at the castle where the Royal Family made its residence, two of its members marking their presence in it: the Crown Prince Lord Xander and the First Princess Lady Camilla. Second Prince Leo and Youngest Princess Elise still weren’t of age to attend to formal events in court and were kept in the royal wing for the duration of the ball.

King Garon had excused himself from the commemorations entirely due to focusing himself on the war at the military’s central command located at the main Castle, Krakenburg.

Xander and Camilla shared a dance, using the opportunity to be on their own for as long as the song lasted to talk, virtually the only way they could do so without either being bothered or spied.

The prince had his hair slicked back, the crown given by his father nowhere to be seen to hide his perpetual frown. He wore a black, double-breasted frock coat with a red velvet cravat, almost as though he had agreed with Camilla to match the color of her dress: a vibrant burgundy and black taffeta long gown with an open back and a scandalous cleavage. Their gloved hands – his white and hers, black – worked in harmony with the beat of the song as their eyes ever so watchfully scanned the ballroom.

“According to schedule, they must have arrived already, Xander.” Camilla turned her head to accompany the beat after a backward walk followed by a quick turn.

“Indeed. If everything goes well, they should reach the palace at any moment.” He concurred, leading his sister to a left turning box with inside turn, catching her hand again as their eyes met.

“Will you really entrust the boy’s judgment to me? I am flattered with the honor, but there is still time to rethink.”

Xander’s lips curved up to something akin to a smile. “I am certain, my sister. After me, only you know of our circumstances well enough to rate a retainer’s worth. Whatever you decide after this ball is over, shall be done.”

Camilla laughed, her fluffy hair fluttering behind her as they did a series of turns. “Then I will not have mercy in my decision.” She huffed after they stopped spinning and Xander pressed her back to lead her to a slower set of steps. “Everything is in accordance with the band, mind. As soon as we both choose our next partners, they shall start the melody you requested.”

“Good,” he praised, something at the top of the stairs catching his attention. “And the song must play for as long as our talk lasts. Alas, Camilla,” he pointed his chin up, turning with the rhythm so his sister could look at the newly arrived duo, “they have come.”

“Dame Kamui and Sir Silas from the Lantanoir Household have arrived!” The Court Marshal and Master of Ceremonies Lord Abbington announced both young nobles’ arrival to the ballroom. It remained mostly unaffected, since the last half of the guests were still coming. Kamui tried not to stare, but ever since she’s been shown in, everything has been overwhelming: There were all kinds of people, from every color, race and even species (she could’ve sworn she saw a wolfskin somewhere, but it could have been a kind of laguz as well; she only noticed a foreign tail).

Not to mention the pressure of simply being there, surrounded by so many new people with her hair up in a bun with only a thick lock of hair twirling down to her shoulder. She was glad that at least her dress didn’t fall short to the palace: A navy blue, sleeveless jacquard brocaded corset with boning imbued with a poly lace up bodice and a long, black tiered ruffle skirt at the back, the front sewn with sparse silver brocades; long, dark gloves covered her arms.

Silas wore a dark grey tailcoat, his hair obediently slicked to the side for once. They parted ways as each one took one flight of the U-shaped stairs so as to meet again at the intermediate landing, immediately locking arms and taking deep breaths before slowly descending the last staircase.

The song continued, however some couples stopped dancing to watch as the Royal siblings themselves came to greet the Lantanoir nobles; Xander to Kamui and Camilla to Silas.

“It is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, Dame Kamui,” Xander gave her a slight bow as she curtsied, “I thank you for accepting the invitation. I am Xander, the Crown Prince of Nohr. And this is Camilla, the Eldest Princess.”

The first time their eyes met, Kamui felt something bristle at the nape of her neck. Xander allowed himself a small smile as he paid attention to the young woman’s feline eyes. Kitten, he thought with warmth, making Kamui’s heart skip a beat. The pressure of royalty could be seen on every fiber of his body, contrary to his smiling sister. His burgundy eyes carried a conviction as deep as, if not deeper than hers, and she could already discern from that first glance that his extended hand, disguised as a request for a dance, meant business.

Her heart pounded in her chest – the first test had started. She managed to smile shyly and curtsied once more. “I am most flattered to be greeted by Your Highness himself.” She replied, glancing from one royal to the other, nodding at the tall princess. “It is an honor to be able to enjoy a tradition as important as this one in Your Highnesses presences.” Entranced by his seriousness, the knight slid her hand over his, silently accepting the implied invitation for the dance.

As soon as their hands touched, the song changed. It was the complete opposite of the one that was being played previously – it was intense and fast-paced. Its name was War and Peace.

“We have much to discuss, my lady,” Xander said, bidding farewell to Silas and Camilla with a nod before escorting Kamui to the middle of the ballroom; every couple they passed by opening way for them. Soon they were isolated in the middle, with room to spare to dance – and to talk. The song was not only passionate, but also loud.

Kamui held her dress with her left hand, the same Xander held, and, when they arrived at the desired spot, she slid her right one to his shoulder, feeling his right hand press her shoulder blade. Immediately they started moving to accompany the rhythm, getting used to each other before trying any difficult movements.

The prince’s hand on her back guided her with a precision she had never felt before; not with her father, not with her instructor and certainly not with her brother. No; Xander had a strong grip followed by a smooth movement, making her role as his dance partner the easiest in the world – his leading was clear and straightforward -- soon they were doing complicated spins and leg works.

After the first left turning box with outside turn, as they raised their free arms up for the split of second – Kamui saw how intently he was looking at her. “Now that we are alone,” his voice rumbled through her chest when they went back to each other’s arms, “we can speak freely. You must know why I summoned you here, my lady.”

A stubborn lock of hair left the prince’s hairdo, dangling beside his right eye – but it only made Kamui less intent on taking her eyes off of him. “Indeed I do, my Lord. My Master uncovered Your Highness’ intention with the letter.”

“Ah, yes, Sir Gallahard the Watchful.” Xander mused, quickly turning his head around to show Kamui the next side they were going to spin to. “Then I can come to the conclusion that, by accepting this invitation, you also have your sights on assuming the position of my retainer?”

So Master was right after all, Kamui thought, pressing her lips into a thin line. The first test! “If my Lord thinks me worthy, then I shall abide to it.”

“I have witnessed your prowess in battle, against that young man you call brother,” he glanced to his sister’s direction – she was also speaking with Silas during a dance – and then turned back to Kamui, “which have left me no doubts about your physical abilities.”

Kamui licked her lips, the tension making her throat dry, “however?”

Xander’s frown lightened in a not-quite smile, in a less serious face. He liked that she was quick to catch up. “That is all I know about you.”

Ah, of course, Kamui thought, he wouldn’t call just anyone to be his retainer without digging up the past. But it seems he hasn’t found anything regarding Hoshido. “It is all that I am, my Lord,” she started, huffing after a series of twirls, “as Your Highness must know, I am an orphan from the Battle of Cheve. I was lucky enough to have Mo—that is to say, Lady Lantanoir to take pity of me and take me in after those dreadful days.”

“Indeed?” He contemplated, pulling up her body as they started a series of progressive outside steps, without missing a beat. “And why did you choose the way of the knight after receiving the chance of staying forever as a noblewoman?”

Is he perhaps concerned about me not looking like a chevois – or normal human, for that matter – and is testing me? She fixed her gaze on his, the memories of her painful past and her friend’s sacrifice ever present in the back of her mind. “I wish nothing more than to end the war, my Lord, so no other children have to go through what I did – the medics speculated that I have blocked the memories from before the Battle of Cheve because I most likely witnessed my parent’s deaths.”

Xander’s frown flickered with concern. “Forgive me. I should not have pressed the issue that further; it was thoughtless of me to remind you of such terrible memories.”

Kamui closed her eyes, dismissing his apology. “Worry not, Your Highness. It is your duty to ascertain yourself about the people you will be working with in the future.” She replied, being led to a back to back sequence, her eyes never focused on the crowd for they were always led back to the prince. After they were back on the original position, she pursed her lips. “However, before we enter in an agreement, I assume you will want to talk about my outward appearance.”

The prince spared a glance at the knight’s pointy ears and his lips curved down in a shrug. “From what I have gathered, you have never made a public transformation nor do you have any other physical differences apart from your ears. I see little point in pressing the matter further as long as you can assure me you have control over your inner beast.”

“You seem used to dealing with shape-shifters,” she blurted out, surprised. Then, quickly added his title. “Ah, my Lord.”

The Prince gave a half-smile for her blunder, “you must have noticed when you were shown in, my lady, that we do not discriminate anyone in the castle. As long as they fulfill their role, the species or skin color of the person matters not. The same can be said about you.”

Acceptance in the least place she thought she would find. Warmth and conflict inside her heart – suddenly she noticed how calm she was, as though the Prince was shouldering her worries. “Alas, Your Highness. I have never shifted before, despite being always in possession of a beaststone.” She meekly looked up at him, finding understanding in his eyes. “I feel the need to be honest with my Lord due to the role you have offered me: I can indeed control the beast inside of me, though I know not what it is for it has not surfaced yet.”

“A late bloomer; not a rare case.” He turned his head to the right, guiding her to a fast set of box steps. “We will have time to work on this once you start.”

Kamui’s stomach turned. “Have I passed the test, my Lord?”

“I have ascertained that you are not an enemy of Nohr; have good reflexes and has no issues with being led on. You are also sincere and your eyes truly are focused on the end of the war. Tell me, Kamui, have you brought your weapon?”

The unexpected turn of his speech made Kamui open and close her mouth before replying, “I have, my Lord. It is stationed at the guest room they have prepared for myself alongside my luggage.” She glanced down to her leg, “if it is a question of whether I am armed at the moment or not, well…”

The prince chuckled, his body trembling with mirth. She had brought a hidden knife to a royal ball! The audacity! “Splendid.” He turned with vigor, making her hold her breath and almost miss the step, “you have everything I look for in someone to serve under my immediate command. Do you accept to be my retainer, Dame Kamui? I am in need of your services.”

Kamui squeezed her hand on his, nodding in acceptance. “I do, my Lord, if you will have me.”

Xander glanced to something or someone over Kamui’s head before continuing with the twirls he had started. The song started its last section. “Wonderful. You have no qualms in starting tomorrow, then? I have received your written pledge and, as far as the army is concerned, you are already part of it.”

Kaze, forgive me, Kamui pressed her lips as they started their last step: a combination of open twinkles.

The song ended; Prince and knight in the middle of the ballroom with their hands connected and their opposing arms extended to the air. Huffing, Kamui took a step towards him as he gave his arm to escort her to a table. “I have no objections, my Lord. I look forward to working with you from now on.”

#corriander #xander #fire emblem fates #silas #kamui #wyll #where your loyalty lies #my writings #*hallelujah playing in the background*

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