#don’t go into chapter 2 blindly

[c0smic-coral]

SOOOO about the warning I added to imhaimh…

I just made a decision regarding this upcoming chapter, and it’s gonna be dark. I believe I have said multiple times this one is the Baker Street Boys on a case, and I am gonna be a bit graphic about these bodies. I am sorry about that.

But let me make something clear: This fic is gonna be no worse in graphic-ness as the actual show (though I do plan on actually having a full, not cut-off f bomb in a later chapter!!). If you handled the actual show, you’ll be good. Cheers.

@gingaaaaa I hope that’s okay with you

[juyendraws]

[Limbus Company] Faust’s Development (or Lack Thereof) in Intervallo 6.5

So Murder on the WARP Express came out and uh… The suspicions I had regarding Faust’s future arc ended up being confirmed. Faust is definitely not reaching out to the truth. I didn't expect the seeds for her story to be planted so soon, but here we are. It’s real. And you're probably thinking, “Uh… WTF are you talking about?” Let me explain to you what I mean.

The message of Library of Ruina is a critical part to understanding what's going on in Limbus Company. I will tell you straight-up here and now, absolutely nobody in the fanbase knows what the hell LoR is actually about. Nobody. And it is such a shame, because it has such a great message that absolutely nobody talks about. I'd love to tell you much more about it, but that involves long explications on Jungian Psychology, the Jewish Kabbalistic Tree of Life, and the story itself, which I don't wanna subject you to yet (I am saving my esoteric lore dumping for the video scripts I’m currently working on). What I will tell you, however, is that the lessons learned by Angela and Roland in LoR are all about opening oneself to everything that is possible in life. The ways in which they do this are:

(1) To listen to one's inner world, or intuition. Don’t just blindly believe whatever someone else says. Follow your own inner voice. 

(2) To listen to one's outer world, or reason. Don't just believe whatever you want to believe. Look at the facts and be receptive to others' opinions. 

That's all you need to know for now about this particular subject. The theme of opening oneself to infinite possibilities is one that carries over from LoR to Limbus Company, and it is present in every Sinners' story. Literally all of them were/are limiting themselves in one way or another due to their flawed beliefs. And each of them is on their own journey of self-realization, or in Jungian terms, “individuation.”

The Mirror Worlds also expand on this theme. They provide infinite ways of looking at the same subject, which sounds wondrous and exciting at first, but it really just reflects what's already there. Remember Yi Sang's and Heathcliff's arcs? For Yi Sang, the Mirror reflected his already-existing potential, while for Heathcliff, the Mirror reflected his surrender to a perceived fate. Mirror World Identities may offer additional combat prowess as well as insight into the characters/worldbuilding, but they end up being quite limiting due to their usage (basically “cheating”) and very nature (as "reflections"). 

Moreover, Goethe's Faust was something that repeatedly showed up in my research on Jungian Psychology. I kept finding Faust's story referenced in articles, academic journals, as well as the book I'm currently reading called Man and His Symbols. This book was written by Carl G. Jung and some of his most trusted followers, and it legitimately explains what Project Moon's mindset was while forming the world and stories of their games (I am not even exaggerating. I have to constantly pause my audiobook and write down notes on what I'd just read because it keeps indirectly revealing PM’s intentions for the series). Anyway, in one of Joseph L. Henderson's chapters named “Heroes and Hero Makers,” he talks about how the archetype of the hero cycle is represented in many stories. An aspect of this archetype essentially revolves around the “hero vs. villain,” or in Jungian terms, the “ego vs. shadow.” The hero must face off against the dragon and triumph. It’s about the development of consciousness through the "ego" (awareness that one exists and has an identity) mastering and assimilating the "shadow" (the parts about ourselves we don’t like or don’t acknowledge deep down). This archetype exemplifies the stage that’s supposed to take place during childhood and adolescence—it’s about growing up. If the hero fails to slay the dragon, i.e. a person fails to assimilate their shadow into their psyche, they become stuck in this state of immaturity. Henderson uses Faust as an example:

“One can see this theme, incidentally, in a well-known literary hero figure—Goethe’s character of Faust. In accepting the wager of Mephistopheles, Faust put himself in the power of a “shadow” figure that Goethe describes as “part of that power which, willing evil, finds the good.” Like the man whose dream I have been discussing, Faust had failed to live out to the full an important part of his early life. He was, accordingly, an unreal or incomplete person who lost himself in a fruitless quest for metaphysical goals that failed to materialize. He was still unwilling to accept life’s challenge to live both the good and the bad” (Man and His Symbols, page 121). 

Henderson is saying that Faust is reluctant to face life’s hardships, so he lets his unconscious aspects—his shadow, or Mephistophiles—control what he does because it’s easier for him to live that way. And as a result, he remains this underdeveloped, immature person. 

In Limbus, Faust’s shadow is Mephistophiles, the reflection of her inner pride and desire to learn more. The knowledge she gains from the bus, her ability to communicate with her IDs, is incapacitating her ability to develop as a person. She’s using it as a crutch. And her overreliance on this knowledge, ironically, reveals how truly ignorant she is. The literal shadow cast in Faust’s E.G.O is her IDs for these very reasons—she is afraid of not knowing what to do.

Anyway, the reason I brought up LoR’s message and the Mirror Worlds earlier is because it is very, VERY relevant to Faust’s arc. Each of the Sinners need to reach out to all the possibilities of life. To not just blindly follow their own beliefs or the beliefs of others, but to see the truth through their own eyes, unclouded by bias. Through her use of the Mirror Worlds, Faust goes, “Well, I’m already reaching out to all possibilities! I’m following my intuition and using reason!” And she technically is, but it’s paradoxical. She is using intuition and reason… But it’s all through the use of her IDs, which are both “herself” and “not herself” at the same time. So she’s still just blindly following her own beliefs and the beliefs of others; she’s only listening to her own opinions and copying down what others say to her, all at the same time. 

I noticed this while rereading key parts of the game again. In Episode 6-25, the Sinners discover the researchers’ experiments below Wuthering Heights. Faust was utterly oblivious as to what their goals were, and Dante commented on how odd her behavior was when she finally started talking.

Later in Episode 6-44, she urges them to find out who informed Erlking Heathcliff about the Mirror Worlds, causing them to pick up on the fact that she doesn’t actually know everything.

In Episode 2 of the 3rd Walpurgis Night, Faust freezes up when asked by Dante to give a more detailed explanation on the Library. She then gives soft confirmation that she is, indeed, in cahoots with her IDs.

Murder on the WARP Express spilled everything. As a result of being separated from Mephistopheles, she is forced to be without her IDs and must figure things out on by herself. Her complete cluelessness regarding what to do demonstrates her lack of any true life experience. She acts like a newborn baby attempting to walk. However, while she is clueless, she is not helpless. She, in fact, does have the potential to grow if she puts her mind to it. Faust exhibits curiosity, ingenuity, and amiability when she must undergo the trials of the WARP train incident.

She takes interest in the perspectives of the other Sinners when asking for help. She is able to discover new things and problem-solve by herself.

Faust can learn on her own and make friends if she really wanted to.

...Unfortunately, she falls back to her dependency on Mephistopheles at the end of the story and closes herself off once again.

Faust refuses to experience any pain that could otherwise spark a realization about herself. She is harming her ability to form relationships with others, as she habitually ignores them or prevents them from giving her advice. She actively denies herself the chance to truly learn about the world and come to her own conclusions—she is impeding her own personal growth. 

Out of all the Sinners, Faust is probably the least developed as a person. Yi Sang, Ishmael, Heathcliff—even those who are about to undergo or are still undergoing their arcs such as Don Quixote, Rodion, or Meursault—are fully-formed people. Faust is not. She is still stuck at the stage of having evolved ego-consciousness while everyone else around her is already achieving the Self. She's worryingly far behind. It’s honestly really sad to watch. 

I was debating on whether or not I should make this post for a few reasons. For one, I’m unable to read Goethe’s Faust at the moment, as I am still preoccupied with my research on Jungian Psychology and Jewish Mysticism for the previous two PM games (Lobotomy Corporation and Library of Ruina). I didn’t want to say anything too specific about Faust’s story until I read her book. Secondly, this topic is really difficult to explain without delving into the Jungian elements in the PM universe. I felt I would end up confusing people if I just came out of nowhere with this post; I initially wanted to speak more about the foundational elements before anything else. 

Nevertheless, I feel that this knowledge I had on Faust, Jung, and PM’s lore was relevant enough to share. I was SHOCKED at how accurately I had predicted Faust’s future character development. The only other person I told this to was my younger sister, and I said, “Faust basically found a loophole through the lessons Angela and Roland learned in LoR. She’s only believing whatever she wants to believe, while also only believing what other people tell her. She’s using Mephi and her IDs as a crutch… I think that’s why she’s alone a lot of the time.” AND I ENDED UP BEING RIGHT. I had to stand up multiple times while playing through the Intervallo with my sister because of how excited I was at this. 

Murder on the WARP Express demonstrates that a good understanding of the games’ themes and of Jungian literary analysis is absolutely essential to figuring out each Sinners’ arc in Limbus. Deciphering, for example, the specifics of Faust’s connection with Gesellschaft is not-so-much valuable as having a strong grasp on what aspects of her character PM is trying to explore. “What is the text communicating? How does it relate to Jung’s ideas? What is the lesson this character is meant to learn?”

That is what matters at the end of the day. 

[empresskylo]

beneath the mask ✩ chapter 2 ⬅ ch. 1

➠𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈; 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓; 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 ➠SIMON "GHOST" RILEY X AFAB!READER ➠CHAPTER TAGS | afab!reader. kinda mean!ghost. drinking. wc 2.3k. ➠AUTHOR'S NOTE | so glad you're all liking the story so far! hope you like this chapter as well. like i mentioned before, i havent actually played this game lmao so pls excuse any plot inaccuracies. i'm going off of wikipedia and lets plays of the game on youtube. there will definitely be plot points that don't quite line up with the actual game. oh and just fyi, i do not have a tag list. sorry!!

𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐜𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

you awoke the following morning with a splitting headache, someone shaking you back and forth only increasing the pain. you squinted your eyes open to see your friend leaning over you. 

“what?” you said through gritted teeth, not holding back any snark. 

“smith and jamerson got pulled into something early this morning. you’re the only medic on base and gaz is bleeding out in the infirmary.”

you shot up in bed, almost slamming foreheads with your friend. “shit. why didn’t you start with that?” you hissed, stumbling out of bed and blindly yanking on clothes.

it didn’t take you long to appear in the cold and barren infirmary, a laughing gaz stretched out on a bed filling your vision when you came storming in. 

he was laughing?  

“gaz,” you began, approaching him. he looked away from ghost, who had apparently been bearable enough to make kyle laugh whilst ‘bleeding out’. 

gaz mimicked you and repeated your name, a stupid grin on his face. 

“i was told you were bleeding out,” you said with a bit of annoyance on your tongue as you slowly strolled up to the man. 

“well, i am bleeding,” he said, holding his hand up, poorly wrapped in white linen that had turned a rusty red. 

you rolled your eyes and grabbed his hand, turning it over in your own. “did you do this?” you asked, referring to the shitty bandage job. 

“not bad, right?” he said with a cheeky grin.

“you’ve got to be kidding, gaz,” your fingers came up to grip the bridge of your nose. “look at it. it's so loose that dirt and debris have gotten into it. you’ll get an infection if i don’t redo it.” you shook your head. “how long has it been like this?”

“several hours, i think.” gaz looked at ghost who ever so slightly shook with a silent laugh. “i dont know, i think i did a pretty fabulous job, but if you insist.” his words were soft and airy and you cocked a brow at him. 

“he’s doped up,” ghost’s guttural voice said from beside you. that would explain gaz’s nonchalance. “got properly decked in the ribs. wouldn’t be surprised if he broke a couple.”

your eyes narrowed at gaz. “gaz,” you said exhaustedly with a hint of reprimand. he looked at you with puppy-dog eyes and you stifled a giggle. 

you went to work on gaz, checking his ribs for fractures and cleaning and rebandaging his hand. you were trying excruciatingly hard to not think about ghost’s eyes on you as you moved about the room. you could feel his glare like flames licking your skin.

finished with gaz, you switched gears and went to ghost’s bedside. he had refused to sit still and had his feet hanging over the edge while he cleaned one of his guns. he looked up at you and you could have sworn you saw something like reverence in his eyes. 

you went to change ghost’s bandages now, gaz already snoring behind you, making you smile to yourself. 

“goin’ back t’my room today,” ghost told you.

“that’s not a good idea, l.t.” you gently nudged his chest and he sat the gun down beside him and laid back. your fingertips lit like a match at just the small physical contact. 

“well good thing I wasn’t askin’.”

why did he always have to be so blunt? you grit your teeth as you finished up, avoiding any unnecessary contact with his skin. 

“i’ll only need to keep an eye on you the next two days. just to make sure there's no infection. then it’s easy sailing from there. i’ll show you how to clean–”

“i’m not daft. been hurt before. didn’t have some medic on call then, either.”

some medic. you weren’t sure why that stung. you felt stupid all of a sudden; of course he’s been injured before. he likely knew the drill like the back of his hand. you suspected under all his gear there were battle wounds that would take a full day just for him to go over the story behind each one.

“well, only two more days with me. then i’ll be out of your hair,” you mumbled.

you felt pathetic for wanting him to reply. to assure you that you didn’t annoy him or that he didn’t mind seeing you. but he just remained silent until you turned and left the room. 

you found soap later that day digging through papers sprawled out on the coffee table before him. “didn’t know you could read,” you teased. 

he looked up at you with a grin. you stood behind him to get a look at what he was reading. “jus’ goin’ over the dossier for our next mission.”

“ our ?” you questioned.

“since you’re the only medic available at the moment. yes, you’ll be coming along for the ride.”

“oh, don’t i feel so special,” you said sarcastically. 

“i woulda asked for you regardless.”

“didn’t know you could make medic requests.”

“ya can’t.”

you collapsed next to him on the couch, sighing before you glazed over the words on the sheets. 

“wait, ‘Hassan’?” you said perking up and pointing to the man’s name. “this seems serious.” you looked at soap with concern. 

“not gonna be an easy one, that’s for sure.”

“but, soap, i can barely use a gun, let alone fight. this seems like i might get killed if…” you trailed off, your heart beginning to race. you weren’t used to going along for intimate missions like this. you usually were held back at base or brought alongside a slew of other medics. but with everyone else gone… 

“don’t worry, lass,” he said bumping your shoulder with his own. “we’ll get ya trained up. it’s not for another two weeks when Hassan should be in Al Mazrah.”

that didn’t exactly make you feel any better. these men have been training their whole life. and you got two weeks?

soap could see the worry spread across your visage. “you’ll have me, gaz, price, and ghost to protect ya.”

“no,” you shook your head. “i can’t become a liability. you guys will have far more important things to focus on.”

“yer not a liability . we need you. there's a good chance that if we capture Hassan, he’ll be hurt. it’s crucial we keep him alive.”

“and that’s where i come in,” you said gloomily. 

“you’re there for us too,” he said smiling at you. soap always did appreciate everything the medics did for the team. he never treated you any differently than the other soldiers. you leaned against him, your heart racing at the idea of what was to come. 

it was late at night when ghost was due for another cleaning. you made it to his door and softly knocked. you paused a moment but didn’t hear anything in return so you quietly pushed the door open. 

the room was dark but you could see the faint silhouette of ghost hunched over on the edge of his bed. your hand hit the wall, searching for the light switch.

“wait,” his deep voice rumbled. you paused all movement and heard the soft rustle of fabric as ghost shuffled. you saw the illuminated outline of him as he pulled his mask over his face. your heart skipped a beat realizing he was sitting in here without it on. “okay.”

you ticked the light switch and met his eyes immediately. he had on his thin balaclava as opposed to the usual hard plastic of his skull mask. it felt like he was naked.

“why don’t you let anyone see you?” you asked timidly. 

“why do you wanna see so bad?” he retorted, clearly already irritated with you. 

“i..” you paused, thinking momentarily. “it’s not that i want to see what you look like. but don’t you find it, i don’t know,” you gestured your hands around nervously, “a bit lonely?”

“lonely?”

“i feel like i’d be lonely if i was always guarded.”

ghost appraised you for a moment, making you squirm uncomfortably. “well, i’m not lonely,” he grunted. okay, end of conversation, you thought. 

you shifted the strap of your bag on your shoulder, “right. i’m sorry. i didn’t mean–”

“quit fuckin’ apologizing.”

you sucked in a sharp breath. “okay. sor–” before you could finish your sentence you stopped yourself. 

you watched ghost roll his eyes. why did upsetting him make you feel so disconcerted? you tried to wipe your face of all expression but you knew he would be able to tell his words wounded you. it wasn’t fair– he could read everything on your face, but all he gave you was his eyes.

you bit your lip then approached him, wanting to get this over with. “if you wanna take off your shirt,” you said absentmindedly as you set your med bag down on his bed beside him. 

he sat back slightly and hiked up his shirt, obviously not wanting to remove it fully. you weren’t sure why, but that made your face heat. it was a statement you’ve made a thousand times to men who had injuries on their torso or when you had to examine their chest. you hadn’t even thought about it when you said it. but when ghost clearly didn’t want to completely shed his clothes, you felt embarrassed, like you had asked for too much. and in a way, he was right. he didn’t need to completely be bare-chested for you to work on him. the wound was quite low on his abdomen. 

you swallowed your embarrassment and cleaned and rebandaged his stitches. you saw an array of goosebumps rise on ghost’s skin from your featherlight touches as you worked. you finished quickly before shoving all your supplies forcibly in your med bag. you needed out of there asap. 

you threw your bag on your shoulder and went to leave when ghost’s bare hands grabbed your wrist. he twirled you so effortlessly to face him again that it almost infuriated you. 

you sucked in a breath of air as you looked at him a bit dumbfounded. ghost thought for a moment, his hand still firmly around your wrist. 

“i don’t mean to be such an arse,” he grunted.

in a breathy tone you spoke back, “it’s fine. i don’t think that, you’re just—“

he cut you off. “no. i don’t have to be so fuckin' upfront with you all the time. you’re just tryin’ to do your job. i gotta remind myself your not one of my men.”

you nodded, holding in the hurt that echoed through you. he was being upfront with you? what did that mean? that he regrets just being honest? that wasn’t what you wanted to hear. you hated yourself for wanting him to say something along the lines of him just lashing out and he didn’t mean the shit he said to you. but he did mean the shit he said, he just regretted saying it out loud.

“not one of your men, right,” you repeated back. you weren’t one of his men. you were just a starstruck woman who had no fucking business working with the most elite men in the world. awesome. 

ghost’s eyes darted between yours as if he wanted to say something more. that maybe he didn’t like the sullen tone you used when repeating his words back to him. as if he might have actually not intended for that implication. you could have sworn you saw his lips move under his mask like he was contemplating telling you he didn’t mean it like that.

but he was silent. 

“really. it’s fine,” you mumbled. “i’ll see you tomorrow.” 

ghost breathed your name, all too easily deciphering the hurt in your words. you wanted to bash your head against the wall for being so obvious. he was right. you weren’t meant for this line of work. you were too soft.

oh my god, were you going to cry?!

you ignored the flutter in your belly when he said your name and scurried out of the room, wanting to drown out your embarrassment with a swig of whiskey. this seemed to be a pattern with you two–ghost saying something a bit too real, you getting hurt and running out of the room like a baby.

you found soap back where you left him and you waltzed over to him with a bottle of whiskey in hand. he looked up at you and gave you a cheeky grin. 

his smile shifted to something of concern when you deflated next to him on the sectional. 

“ghost give ya a hard time?” 

“no,” you lied. “just been a long day.”

soap took the bottle from you and took a drag. “long week, more like it.” 

you chuckled before taking a sip. you passed the bottle back and forth a few more times until your body buzzed and your mouth wouldn’t let you swallow any more of the foul liquid.

“how do you guys drink this shit?” you asked, making a face of disgust.

“years of self-hatred,” he grinned.

you slouched against him. 

“do you think i’m cut out for this? 

he flipped through the pages of the dossier before glancing at you. “cut out for what?”

you gestured around you. “this. working with you guys. working for the best of the best.”

“'course i fuckin’ do.” he gave you a quizzical look. “why would you even ask that?”

you shrugged, keeping your eyes off of him.

your name escaped his lips making you finally look up at him. “you’re here for a reason. price doesn’t let just anyone join his team. i’ve seen what you can do, lass. you’re part of the best of the best .”

you smiled making him grin at you in return. “no more of this shit, okay?” he said softly, his scottish accent getting heavier the more he drank. you found it comforting.

“okay,” you agreed. 

“now, lets find price so we can steal all his money with a few games of cards,” he said, lightly tapping your shoulder with his fist.

you laughed knowing good and well price could beat the two of you blindfolded.

chapter 3 ➡

[thoughtfulbearpanda]

February 2024 Pick a Card

Piles 1 -> 2 -> 3

Hi there! This is a timeless reading, so remember to take what resonates and leave what does not. Remember that you have free will and nothing is set in stone. Yes, this is intended for entertainment purposes but if any serious topics that come up in these readings that you find yourself resonating with, please seek aid or professional help if you are inclined to do so. Also, if anything in this reading is triggering for you don't feel the need to continue reading; please prioritize your mental and emotional health.

Take your time when choosing your pile. Ask yourself the question and choose the picture that you can’t stop looking at. Listen to your intuition.

PILE I

Okana Oracle: Reconcile, Grandma's Baby Lenormand: Whip & Heart, Tarot: 6 of cups rx, 2 of wands, 4 of cups, the Tower rx, 9 of cup rx

What I see you going through in the month of February pile 1 is you walking away from something. With the 6oc rx coupled with the 2ow there may be a decision you will have to make, and this decision could lead to you letting go of past connections, I’m getting ‘leaving the nest' for some of you. Some of you could be moving away, beginning your own chapter of life solo; some of you could be traveling overseas in the month of February, or just simply moving out of house and getting your own place. 

There is also this aspect of fear, not really knowing what you’re getting into, there is the sense of naivety. This could be towards a new job, maybe a change of career path or change in career studies for those who are still in school. This could be a small few of you but some of you may be weighing the decision to drop out of college or school. College/school/work may no longer be as exciting for as when you first started and you may be thinking about just calling it quits, but are delaying this decision because you may not have a backup plan and/or you don’t want to disappoint your loved ones. It’s like ‘I no longer enjoy this.’; ‘What if there is more for me out there?’; ‘What will my loved ones think?’; ‘What if I don’t have a back up plan and this ends being a mistake?’

Life is not full of easy choices. Every day we are proven that life is short. For those who resonate with the school/college message, I am not here to tell you what you should do BUT do what you believe is best for you. College is not for every one, but if dropping out is an option you are considering than have a back up plan ready for when you do. Figure out what you are going to do afterwards. Don’t just dive into this particular decision blindly.

I see you going through transformation pile 1. Some of you may have felt like you lost your spark, your joy, your purpose in life. I see you gaining that back in the month of February. You are going to start making decisions that make YOU happy, that bring YOU joy. February is the month where you consider how to get closer to your ultimate goal in life, and how you can rediscover your sense of purpose.

Shadow Message: Reconcile - “love yourself for only then can you love others” -> What is something that you find yourself struggling to let go of? What is this thing that is depleting you? Is it a job? Is is friends? Family? A partner, past or present? Do you find yourself pouring so much of yourself into this thing and/or person (people) that you barely have enough to pour into yourself? To whomever this resonates, it is time to take a look at your current attachments and come to terms with whether it is healthy or if you are simply a victim of codependency. Is this thing or person feeding off of you? If so, then it is time to cut the cord on that. Do some 'spring cleaning'. For some, it may not even a person or a job. Sometimes it just simply clearing out the old within your space, getting rid of old clothes, trinkets, furniture etc., to make room for the new. Find what is weighing you down emotionally, spiritually, mentally; find what is depleting your happiness and take the necessary steps to rid yourself of it.

Message(s) from the Ancestors: Whip & Heart - 'Sacrifice' & 'Love' -> Whip: "Everyone must pay. Nothing worthwhile or lasting was ever achieved by simply wanting it to be ours...sacrifice and work move things further than desire alone." Love: "There is an infinite supply of love for us to draw on, whether from platonic or romantic relationships, living or dead...but if we often lose ourselves in the need to nurture others, hiding in them to avoid being in ourselves...we must learn to love ourselves so deeply we find joy in solitude instead of heartbreak."

Final Messages:

"What is past is gone, what is hoped for is absent, for you is the hour for which you are."

"Wisdom outweighs strength."

"A snake that you can see does not bite."

"You cannot blindfold a man and expect him to ferry you across the river."

"Whoever stands in the need of honey should not be afraid of bees."

~additional messages: unexpected good fortune, generosity, possible travel, changes, postponement, disappointment and opposition

**PROVERBS 15:13 and DANIEL 10:6 for some of you**

PILE II

Okana Oracle: Grit & Confide, Grandma's Baby Lenormand: Rider rx & Clouds, Tarot; Page of swords, Queen of wands, 9 of cups, 7 of swords rx, & ace of wands Rx

The month of February is going to be very abundant for you pile 2. I see you socializing and being so vibrant and free, being the talk of the town. I'm getting 'social butterfly'. This month is going to be raining down blessings for you with the 9oc here. I see you filled with so much gratitude and happiness. Wishes will be coming true for you in the month of February; whatever you have been wishing for, praying for, hoping for, it will come true. I see you getting that dream job, dream car, dream house. Whatever you've been wishing for, you will be receiving it this month. Some of you could be starting a new project or job, and I see you being so excited about it. You have this eager, 'go getter' energy.

With the QoW here, a feminine figure could be significant for some you. This person could be mature, or just has a lot experience and wisdom under their belt. Who knows how to work a room, use their charm and charisma to achieve their goals. I see this person being some sort of a mentor figure to you this month. Someone that will help you harness this vibrant, off the walls energy that you may have. I see you shadowing this person, soaking up all the knowledge that she has to offer. *Be sure to take head from whatever advice this person gives you*

For some of you, there could be some snakes in your mists. In the month of February you may find yourself being on the receiving end of a lot of 'evil eye'. I see you being highly favored in the month of February, and with that comes with a lot of jealousy and attempts at sabotage. You may end up encountering a lot two-faced people; those who smile in your face but are quick to pray and revel in your downfall. Some of you may be up for promotion or have been promoted - BE CAREFUL. Be wary of those who are quick to befriend and try to get into your circle. It's like that saying 'keep your friends close and your enemies closer' - that is the mentality of these haters toward you. Just know that secrets don't stay buried and will eventually come to light. Karma never misses, so whatever these potential sabotagers have planned will back fire. You are protected by the Divine and your Ancestors.

The month of February, some of you may find yourself consumed with the drive to get something started. There may be an idea/project that you are trying to get off the ground to this point where you are obsessing over it. You are trying and trying and becoming more and more frustrated because it's not going the way you planned. With the ace of wands rx, you are being called to take a break. Step away from the idea/project and allow yourself to breathe. When we are so hyper focused on something, it can become easy for use to become consumed by to the point where we forget why we started said project/idea; and in some instances lose our passion fro what we do. That's why in moments of frustration we need to take a step back, put on pause on things. If this resonates, Spirit is prompting you to take a look out where you are, how far you've come, and remember why you started. Stop and smell the roses. Allow yourself to look at it from a different perspective.

For others, there could be a whole idea that you abandoned completely because it never got off the ground, someone may have told you that idea is not good, or maybe you felt like it could never be. Maybe it's time to revisit that project/idea from a new, fresher lens.

Shadow Message: Grit & Confide - Grit: "when a needle falls into a well many people will look into the well, but very few will go down after it" -> Take a look at yourself this month and ask yourself 'Am I biting off more than I can chew?', 'Am I involving myself in projects or places that do not pertain to me?', 'If I am doing all these things: why?' If you find yourself spiraling or just taking on so much, unnecessarily, maybe it's time to take a step back from it. It's good to have drive to have that grit/conviction but not to the point where it is at your own detriment. It can be easy, being caught up in 'the grind' and all but we also have to remember to take breaks; Confide: "all things are good to eat, but not all things are good to say" -> February is looking to be an abundant month for you, but remember to not get caught up in the high. You may be on the receiving end gossip, but try not to perpetuate the same behaviors as your haters. If find yourself engaging gossip with others ask yourself 'Is it true?', 'Is it kind?', 'Are these people doing the same thing to me behind my back?', 'Will they go back an twist my words to said person?', 'Why are they trying to get me involved gossip to begin with?'. Remember: Karma. Never. Misses.

Message(s) from the Ancestors: Rider rx & Clouds - 'Intention' & 'Denial' -> Rider rx: "Don't be hasty, Baby. Before taking action, we must be clear on our intention. And be certain our actions align with that intention." Clouds: "Clouds can be information that is hidden and outcomes that are uncertain...we must know truth before we know miracles, and what is before we know what can be."

Final Messages:

"Not to know is bad, to not wish to know is worse."

"Fire surrounded by elders cannot burn you."

"Luck at times will visit a fool, but it never sits down with him."

"Truth cannot be hidden forever beneath evil."

"He who wakes up early in the morning receives bundle of blessings."

~additional messages: good luck coming to you, harmony, property, achievement, love, dark-haired woman who is strong, helpful and attractive, warning of loss of friendship

**EXODUS 24:15 for some of you**

PILE III

Okana Oracle: Harmony & Reconcile, Grandma Baby Lenormand: Fish & Mice, Tarot: 10 of swords, 2 of cups, Knight of wands, 5 of pentacles rx, ace of swords rx

Are some of you in a relationship, pile 3? Or is there someone on your mind? Cause with the 2oc here there is a potential for love to blossom for you in the month of February. You could have met this person or will meet this person and you guys hit right off the bat. The knight of wands indicates that you and this person will 'click' so fast, and so unexpectedly. This person could be a fire sign; they could be someone who is vibrant, and has a lot of energy and passion to them. They could be 'go-getter', someone who acts before they thinks, who likes to dive into things head-first. And it doesn't necessarily have to be a romance either. This could be someone who you will end up having a genuine bond and connection with. This person could be a bit of foil to you if you are more on the shy side, or this is someone who will match your energy.

Some of you may have dealt with betrayal in the past, like been backstabbed by a person/people that you've trusted. This has possibly resulted you in having trust issues, you questioning the motives of those who try to get close to you. This connection coming in is going to help you heal those wounds. This connection coming is someone you can trust and they are going to prove that to you. They will be patient with you. Maybe this person coming in has probably dealt with same thing, and this connection will be healing for both of you.

For others of you, you may have fallen on hard times in the past pile 3. Some of you may have dealt with a lot of spiritual warfare. What I mean by that, is that you may have been feeling empty spiritually. Doubting your religion, your ancestors, spirit guides, or even the concept of spirituality itself. *With everything that has been going on in the world, I can understand* Maybe you've hanging on to this concept of religion or spirituality in hopes it will make your life better because that's what you've been told, only to be met with disappointment after disappointment. Maybe recently you've had one too many disappointments and began to question yourself: 'Am I doing something wrong?' 'Why isn't working?' 'Am I just playing myself for a fool?'

I see you starting to come back to that pile 3, because you can't ignore the call forever. I see rekindling your relationship with the Divine, with God, your Ancestors, whomever you believe in. That tarot deck that you've put away? You're dusting off and getting back into the swing of things. That altar that you abandoned, walked away from? I see resetting it and familiarizing yourself with your guides, with your gifts. And honestly, sometimes walking away is needed pile 3. It's okay to take a break for a while, reconnect with yourself, ground yourself, and find your way back to it eventually.

Shadow Message: Harmony & Reconcile - Harmony: "where there is life, there is always hope" -> You could be dealing with bouts of loss or despair in February. Have you lost all hope of being happy? Content? Have you lost hope in ever being able to trust again? Have you become a glass half-empty, glass half-full kind of person? It's time to confront those doubts, pile 3. Time to challenge those negative beliefs you've become accustomed to. Make the effort of bringing harmony and positivity back into your life; Reconcile: "love yourself for only then can you love others" -> It is time to heal pile 3. Heal those wounds. Hanging onto that hurt is giving the person who hurt you more power over you. What is something you have trouble letting go of? Is it the betrayal? The backstabbing? Is it becomes you should have saw it coming? Are you ready to let it go? Are you ready to move on?

Message(s) from the Ancestors: Fish & Mice - 'Gifts' & 'Fear' -> Fish: "If we give birth to what is within us, what is within us will save us. If we do not give birth to what is within us, what is within us will destroy us." Mice: "If we feed fear, we will be eaten alive."

Final Messages:

"You can kill the identity of a man on earth, but you cannot kill his spirit."

"Respect begets respect."

"Even as the archer loves the arrow that flies, so too he loves the bow that remains in his hands."

"The path to wisdom is a lifelong commitment."

"It is the one who lives in the house that knows where the roof leaks."

~additional messages: friendship, success, business meetings, reliable friend, conflict, love, affair, worry and fear

**JONAH 1:17 for some of you**

That's all I have for you! Thanks for reading! Stay safe, stay blessed!

Asé

[arc852]

First Meetings 2/3

Summary: How Jimmy met Grian and Joel.

Warnings: anxiety, being/feeling trapped, hunger pains, fear, helplessness, arguing, and being grabbed

Word Count: 6756

Part 1

AO3 Link

It's finally here! So sorry about the wait, this chapter gave me a lot of trouble but I think I'm pretty happy with how it came out!

This is the meat of their first meeting, so we finally get to see just how badly it really went lol. I hope you guys enjoy!

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 Jimmy woke up with a start to a blaring, ear piercing sound. He let out a yelp that was thankfully covered by the loud sound as he sat up, breathing heavily. As his brain caught up with him, he realized it was the sound of an alarm. He’d learned that humans usually set them so they could wake up and get to class on time. But if it was the weekend, then why was it on? And why had no one turned it off yet? Jimmy held his hands against his ears, trying to block out the sound.

 “Joel! Turn off your alarm!” Jimmy heard Grian yell over the blaring bleeps, sounding annoyed and groggy, having also been jostled awake by the alarm.

 Joel groaned and Jimmy watched as Joel’s hand came out from the bed and blindly tapped on his phone. The noise stopped and Jimmy let his hands fall with a sigh of relief.

 “Seriously, Joel?” Grian asked.

 “Sorry, I forgot to turn it off!” Joel said, also annoyed by his own mistakes.

 “The two days we get to sleep in and you forgot to turn your alarm off for one of them.” Grian continued.

 “I get it! You can shut up already!” Joel yelled back and then both were silent for a long moment. Jimmy thought they had both fallen back asleep until Grian spoke up again.

 “...We should probably get up.” He said and then Jimmy felt the bed above him shifting before Grian’s feet hit the floor to Jimmy’s right.

 “Yeah, yeah. I can’t go back to sleep after that anyway.” Joel agreed and Jimmy noticed him getting up and out of bed as well.

 As the two humans went about their morning routines, Jimmy’s stomach growled and ached. Jimmy licked his lips as he realized it had now been a full day since he had last eaten anything and about the same since he’d had a drink of water. He was really starting to feel the effects of that now.

 Still, there was nothing he could do about it.

 Jimmy curled in on himself and watched the humans walk around the room, doing various things. They finally picked up their old clothes, throwing them in two separate hampers in the corner of the room. They then both took turns in the bathroom, walking out dressed and then started discussing breakfast.

 Jimmy tried to tune them out as they talked about food, feeling his stomach ache with every mention. 

 “I don’t really feel like going anywhere though.” Jimmy caught as he zoned back in. It was Joel who had spoken.

 “We can get it delivered then.” Grian answered and then it was silent for a moment. At this angle, Jimmy could only see their legs and feet, so he was unsure what they were doing. “Okay…you want the bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich?” Grian asked and Jimmy realized they must be ordering on their phone. He had seen a lot of college students do that before.

 Food delivered right to your door, whenever you wanted, sounded like a dream if Jimmy was being honest.

 “Yeah, but add avocado and ham. Extra toasted.” Joel listed and Jimmy could just barely hear Grian typing on his phone now that he knew what was happening. 

 “Got it…” There was another second of silence. “Okay, it’s all ordered. Should be here in 25 minutes.”

 “Cool. Wanna look for another movie to watch while we wait?” Joel suggested and Jimmy could already see him going over to his desk to grab his laptop. The typing on the laptop was a lot louder than the phone had been.

 “Sure, I’m down for a movie day.” Grian said and then met Joel over by his desk. Both humans were hunched over, talking back and forth over what movies they wanted to watch that day. Jimmy barely paid attention to what they were saying, not really understanding it anyway.

 25 minutes later, at least, Jimmy assumed it was around then considering what Grian had said before, there was a knock at the door. Jimmy jumped, startled by the sudden loud thud and his eyes honed in on the door. Grian went to answer it, opening the door to grab the food. 

 “Thanks.” Grian said, food in hand and then shut the door as the delivery driver started to walk away. Grian turned back around and placed the bag on Joel’s desk.

 The aroma hit Jimmy all at once. It smelled so good.

 Another ache in his stomach made him wince.

 “Here, you can grab yours. We can watch the movie on my bed.” Grian said and then picked up his sandwich and the laptop, heading closer to Jimmy. Jimmy tensed slightly but of course Grian was coming this way, he was underneath his bed after all.

 “Sounds good to me!” Joel said. “That just means I get a crumb free bed tonight.”

 “You better not be leaving crumbs in my bed.” Grian said and despite Jimmy not being able to see him, he could picture the glare on his face clear as day.

 “What happens, happens.” Joel said and then chuckled. He grabbed his sandwich, unwrapping it and taking a bite as he headed over toward Grian and his bed. Jimmy watched with increased interest as a piece of bacon dropped from his sandwich and onto the floor.

 Joel paused. “Whoops.”

 “Joel.” Grian said, disappointment clear in his tone. “Could you not?”

 “Oh come on, it wasn’t even that much.” Joel continued walking, getting into the bed on the opposite side Grian did.

 “You’re not even gonna pick it up?” Grian asked, incredulously.

 “Eh, I’ll do it later.” Joel said, muffled from a bite of food.

 “Unbelievable.” Grian said but didn’t get up himself to go pick it up either. Instead, Jimmy heard the start of the movie going as the two humans got comfortable and ate their food.

 Jimmy was barely paying any attention to them though, all his focus was on that small sliver of bacon that had fallen from Joel’s sandwich. He licked at his dry lips, wanting nothing more than to run out there and grab it.

 But he couldn’t. Not yet at least. Grian and Joel had just barely started their movie, they could still not be fully engrossed into it yet. 

 But also, he couldn’t wait until they went to bed either. He was sure the bacon piece would be picked up and thrown away as soon as they were done. Jimmy couldn’t let that happen though. He needed to eat. He also needed water but that was something he would have to try for later on. Maybe he could try and get into the bathroom and up to the sink later tonight?

 He shook his head. He needed to focus on what was in front of him first. And that was a piece of food that was threatening to disappear if Jimmy didn’t act fast enough.

 If Jimmy waited just a bit longer, he could run out quickly and grab it before either human had a chance to look up. And hopefully, if they tried to look for it and saw that it was missing, they would only assume they had accidentally kicked it away.

 It was his best option and his only one at this point. He really needed to eat, so he would have to take the risk.

 He waited until Grian and Joel were halfway into their second movie. The humans had already finished eating and had tossed their trash onto Grian’s side table, not wanting to get up to throw it away yet. They seemed completely engrossed into the movie, at least as far as Jimmy could tell. If he was going to do this, now would be the time.

 Jimmy took a deep breath and got closer to the edge of the bed, but not quite going out into the open yet. He heard the movie playing in the background, the humans themselves quiet as they watched. He eyed the bacon halfway across the room and then, without any more hesitation, Jimmy quickly and as quietly as he could, took off.

 He darted across the room, making it in less than a minute. He quickly picked up the piece of bacon, holding his prize close to his chest. He was about to turn around and head back to under the bed, when suddenly, he heard one of the human’s gasp.

 Jimmy tensed but tried to keep his nerves calm. The humans were watching a movie after all, they could just be reacting to that. Hopefully.

 Unfortunately, that didn’t seem to be the case.

 “What…is that?” One of them spoke, Jimmy didn’t care to distinguish who it was, too busy feeling his nerves spike as he realized they had seen him.

 Jimmy dropped the bacon and ran toward Joel’s bed, not wanting to risk trying to get back underneath Grian’s. As soon as he had moved, he heard the humans’ shout something and jump off the bed, their movie paused and all but forgotten.

 Jimmy could feel the thuds of the humans’ feet as they followed after him but thankfully Jimmy had a head start. He was able to reach underneath the bed before either human could catch up to him. Jimmy went all the way to the back wall, pressing himself against it as he looked at the legs and feet of the humans only a few feet away from him. His breaths were rapid and his eyes were blown wide as he realized just how dire of a situation he was in.

 He might have managed to get under the bed in time but he was far from safe.

 The humans had appeared to pause for a second as soon as Jimmy disappeared underneath the bed. “Was that some sort of mouse?” Joel asked, though his unsure tone was enough to tell that he already knew the answer to that question was a resounding no. Still, Grian answered.

 “That was definitely not a mouse.” Grian said, breaths slightly heavy at the sudden excitement. “It…It looked like a tiny person.”

 “Okay, so I wasn’t just seeing things then. Good to know.” Joel said. “A tiny person…”

 Suddenly, without warning, Grian’s knees hit the floor and he twisted his body so he could peer underneath the bed. His eyes scanned the area and Jimmy felt himself freeze, a shiver running down his spine as he met eyes with the human.

 The human’s eyes widened, filled with shock and awe. “There it is.” Grian practically whispered, the shock also clear in his tone. “It…It really is a tiny person.”

 “Really?” Jimmy heard Joel say but he tried his best to block it all out.

 Jimmy wanted nothing more than to just not be here. He was trapped, not just underneath the bed, between a wall and a pair of humans, but in the entire room itself. Even if he managed to hide again, which was looking close to impossible now, he was sure the two humans would tear the entire room apart looking for him.

 And they would find him. Because he was trapped.

 Jimmy was suddenly finding it very hard to breathe. His worst fear was coming true and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He pressed further into the wall, trying to ground himself, trying to forget for just a moment that there were a pair of human eyes on him, just long enough to try and catch his breath.

 Unfortunately, this meant he wasn’t paying attention to what the humans were doing. He suddenly heard a noise of strain and foolishly looked back toward the human only to nearly jump out of his own skin as a hand started to reach for him. Jimmy yelped, wishing for all the world that he could just melt into the wall. But, thankfully, it seemed Jimmy was safe for now, as the hand only got about halfway underneath the bed before it stopped. 

 They couldn’t reach him.

 Small victories.

 “I can’t reach it.” Grian said with a grunt and then the hand retreated after a moment, once again leaving a clear view of Grian’s face. The human bit his lip. “Hey, it’s okay. You can come out.” Grian said, speaking to Jimmy for the first time. “Come on little guy.”

 Jimmy didn’t so much as move a muscle, let alone answer. Like he would just walk right up to the human. They must think he was an idiot or something.

 Jimmy realized, as soon as the thought entered his mind, that they probably did. Maybe not in those simple terms but…were they even aware he could understand them? Humans always looked down on his kind, not quite seeing them as people. And based on the condescending tone Grian used, it wasn’t hard to see that that’s what was happening here.

 Grian tried reaching for him again and Jimmy couldn’t help the small whimper that escaped him. He knew Grian couldn’t reach him from here but he couldn’t help but keep his eyes on the hand trying, afraid that if he were to tear them away that, somehow, the hand would grab him.

 Unfortunately, he was so focused on Grian, he had forgotten about Joel.

 Jimmy’s attention jumped to the legs of the bed, which were suddenly moving forward. Jimmy frowned, his scrambled, fear-filled brain trying to make sense of what was happening. The darkness let up as the bed moved, revealing the lights above. Jimmy looked up in confused fear, his eyes darting back and forth between the new opening and Grian.

 And then there was a hand descending down, heading right toward him. Jimmy had no time to even try to run, the only thing he could do was duck down, trying to make himself even smaller. It didn’t help though, in fact, it made it worse. The hand engulfed his entire body in less time than Jimmy could comprehend and he found himself completely enveloped in the fist, his body scrunched up even tighter at the lack of room. He then felt the hand shoot back up, bringing Jimmy with it.

 As he was brought up, another hand joined the one he was trapped in. He now found himself held in between two hands, which, while offering him more room, was no less terrifying.

 Jimmy struggled within the hands confines, kicking away at the fingers that were larger than his entire body. They didn’t so much as budge though, his efforts and struggles all for nothing. His breathing came out in short pants as he realized this. As he realized he had been well and truly caught. 

 “I got it!” He heard Joel exclaim, much too close and far too loud. Jimmy flinched away but there really was no point when he was literally in the human’s hands. He was already much closer than he had ever wanted to be to a human.

 “Nice work, Joel.” Grian said and Jimmy heard some shuffling. He could only assume Grian was standing back up. 

 Jimmy closed his eyes. He could imagine the two humans, both surrounding him and staring down at where he was still hidden from view within Joel’s cupped hands. Looks of awe and curiosity, faces full of smirks and grins. He wouldn’t have to imagine for long though. 

 He opened his eyes back up just in time to see a small gap start to open up in Joel’s hands. Jimmy tensed up even more and couldn’t help the yelp as the fingers parted away to reveal a giant eye. Jimmy backed away as much as he could in the cramped space, but while it but distance between him and the eye, it only put him closer to the curve of Joel’s hand. He froze, doing his best to stay in the center of the hand, to avoid the most contact.

 The eye was wide as it took him in before it left and the gap quickly closed back up. “This is so weird…” Joel said, trailing off. “I can’t believe this is real.”

 “It doesn’t even look like there could be anything in your hands.” Grian said, his voice in awe.

 “Oh, it’s-he’s? Definitely in there.” Joel said with a slight unbelieving chuckle. Jimmy weakly tried to kick at the walls of flesh again, despite knowing it wouldn’t do anything. “This is so weird. I can feel his tiny legs kicking me.”

 “Okay, well come on. Open up, I want to see it.” Grian said.

 “Okay, okay.” Joel said and that was all the warning Jimmy got as Joel’s hands opened up. Jimmy shut his eyes tight, not unfurling himself from his curled up position. He didn’t want to see them. He didn’t want this to be real.

 Unfortunately, he wasn’t given a choice, as suddenly, the human’s thumb slid itself underneath his curled up body. It managed to easily break apart his curled up position and ended up pressing gently against his chest before maneuvering him into a seated position in the hand. He was manhandled so easily, so casually. His struggles didn’t even compare.

 The thumb didn’t move. It stayed pressed against his chest and Jimmy felt constricted, like he could barely breathe. Even though he knew the pressure wasn’t enough to block any air, the panic was doing a good enough job of that anyway.

 “Wow, his heartbeat is going crazy.” Joel commented, able to feel Jimmy’s pulse under the pad of his thumb. The human’s voice pulled Jimmy’s eyes up in that direction and…well, it was exactly like how he had imagined it. But worse. The humans were so close, their eyes looking him up and down, full of that awe and curiosity he had guessed but that still had Jimmy’s heart racing even faster at actually seeing it. He cowered further back into the hand, though the thumb still pressed against his chest kept him from being able to move too much.

 “He’s probably scared.” Grian noted. “Or maybe it’s because of how small he is. Don’t small creatures have faster heart rates?” He looked toward Joel, eyebrow raised.

 Joel blinked at him. “I don’t know, why are you asking me? You’re the biology major here.”

 Grian chose to ignore that and looked back down at Jimmy. “It’s probably a bit of both, honestly.” Grian said, and then leaned down a bit more, his face coming closer to Jimmy. Jimmy let out a small whine, trying to lean back as far as he could away from the human. “It’s okay little guy, we’re not going to hurt you.”

 Jimmy swallowed the lump that had been forming in his throat. They were speaking to him again and of course it was with that same condescending tone. But even without the tone, could Jimmy really even believe them? The words were empty, something to be said in the hopes that they could get their little catch to calm down and be easier to control. Jimmy knew perfectly well how humans worked.

 “Can he even understand us?” Joel asked, his awe turning more toward curiosity as he looked right at Jimmy’s face for any signs of recognition.

 “I mean…he’s very human-like. I’d be a bit surprised if he couldn’t.” Still, Jimmy saw the look of doubt on Grian’s face. Grian turned to look back down at Jimmy and titled his head. “Can you understand us?”

 Jimmy froze, not knowing what he should reveal. Would it be better to answer? Worse? Jimmy didn’t know. He didn’t know what these humans wanted from him. He blinked back some tears, refusing to cry. And then, with a lot of hesitation, Jimmy nodded. Better that they ran with him being more human-like than turning to him being more animal-like, he supposed.

 Despite Grian’s earlier words, both humans looked very surprised that Jimmy could indeed understand the two of them.

 “Did…he just nod?” Joel asked, looking to Grian to see if he saw the same thing.

 “He…did. Wow, okay, so he really can understand us.” Grian said, his eyes wide. “That’s amazing.” He breathed out, his awe returning tenfold.

 “Wait, if you can understand us,” Joel started, turning back toward Jimmy, who flinched. “Then does that mean you can also talk?”

 Despite the fact Jimmy didn’t think he could talk right now, at this moment, due to the panic still invading his chest, he gave another little nod. Might as well tell them that too, while he found himself revealing things. Wasn’t like it was a huge leap anyway, from being able to understand them to also being able to talk. 

 He watched as Joel grinned at his nod, an excitement in his eyes that had Jimmy’s nerves feel like they were on fire. “Well, you have to say something now. Don’t leave us in suspense.”

 Again, Jimmy didn’t think he could even if he wanted to. The pressure on his chest was starting to become uncomfortable now and if he opened his mouth to even try, he feared no words would come out. He shook his head and looked away, not knowing how they would react to him denying them something.

 Turns out, the reaction was a pout from Joel. “Oh come on, you can’t tell us you can talk and then not.” Joel reached out with his free hand and poked Jimmy in the side. Jimmy flinched back, his eyes wide as he watched as the hand stayed close. As if ready to attack again. “Might think you’re lying to us.” Joel’s eyes glint with mischief, his tone teasing.

 That scared Jimmy more than anything, though. And suddenly things were becoming just too much. His focus zeroed in on his chest, the pressure on it was overwhelming now and Jimmy couldn’t help but want it off. He braced his hands against the thumb and pushed. He knew it wouldn’t budge, he knew he was too weak to move it but he had to try.

 But surprisingly, the thumb did budge. In fact, it moved off his chest entirely. Jimmy sat there with his arms outstretched, blinking in confusion. That brief confusion soon turned into another bout of fear though, as Joel’s other hand came close once more, invading his space to snag one of his outstretched arms in between his thumb and forefinger. Jimmy’s breath hitched and he froze, scared that one wrong move would have his arm torn in two.

 “Look at his little hand. It’s so small.” Joel said, his tone turning to one of child-like awe. Grian’s face came into view once more, trying to get a better look. 

 “All of him is small, Joel.” Grian said but he was smiling, also staring at Jimmy’s trapped arm in awe. They seemed to have moved past him being able to talk, at least for now. “Okay, my turn.” Grian suddenly said.

 Jimmy was still trying to process what that meant when Grian’s hand suddenly descended upon him. His arm was dropped as Joel’s hand moved out of the way, making room for Grian to pinch Jimmy on his sides with two fingers, lifting him up and away from Joel’s palm. Jimmy kicked his feet, panic overtaking him as he looked down at the size of the drop. He had never had any problem with heights before but now, held so carelessly between pinched fingers, he was scared he would slip from the hold and drop below. A drop that would surely kill him.

 Fortunately, he was not in that pinched hold for long. Instead, transferred over and placed down on Grian’s palm. There was not much difference between either hand, though Jimmy noted Grian’s hand was slightly colder than Joel’s had been.

 “Hey! I wasn’t done holding him!” Joel exclaimed as Grian had forcefully taken Jimmy from his hands. Grian tutted at him, holding Jimmy close to his chest as Joel tried to reach back for him.

 “You gotta learn to share.” Grian said, a smirk on his face. “And you’ve held him for long enough.” Grian said, chuckling as Joel huffed and pouted, his arms crossed.

 “Fine.” Joel grumbled, but his demeanor quickly changed, coming up next to Grian in order to still see Jimmy clearly. He grinned. “It feels cool holding him though, right?”

 Grian hummed and Jimmy felt a shiver go down his spine at how Grian was scrutinizing him. Grian’s thumb came over to his side and started rubbing along his arm. Jimmy tried to flinch away but, of course, he was trapped on the hand. “It’s definitely weird.” Grian said after a moment. “Having an entire person in your hand…” He trailed off, the thumb lifting slightly to move some of his hair out of his face. Again, Jimmy flinched.

 This was painful, agonizingly so. Not knowing what was going to happen. Not knowing what these humans had planned for him. They were still in the awe and curiosity stages, still content with simply looking and touching him. Which was already terrifying enough. But soon, soon that would pass and something would actually be done to him. The thought left him shaking.

 Grian frowned. “I think he’s still scared.” Grian said, noticing the slight tremors coming from the little person in his hand. 

 “Oh, you’re right.” Joel said, also noticing. “It’s okay, little guy, we’re not going to hurt you. Promise.” Joel said, repeated Grian’s words from earlier. “I mean, come on, we haven’t hurt you so far, right?”

 They hadn’t hurt him yet. That much was true. But again, words didn’t mean anything. Besides…there were worse things they could do to him, if they truly weren’t planning on hurting him. Worse things…like being trapped, or kept…or…

 Jimmy was shaking even harder now, his mind going to the worst possible things. 

 Joel frowned and turned to Grian. “He wasn’t shaking like that in my hands. You should give him back.”

 Grian glared at him, holding Jimmy a bit closer. “He’s fine, I can handle it.” Grian was not giving up his turn with the tiny person so easily. Grian turned his attention back to him, once again moving his thumb, this time to rub against the little person’s back. “See? You’re okay.” Grian said to the guy.

 Jimmy was certainly not okay. The furthest thing from okay, actually.

 “Okay, my turn again.” Joel said, not letting anyone process his words before diving in and grabbing Jimmy from Grian’s hand. Joel’s fingers curled around his body, just a little too tight and Jimmy gasped.

 Instead of putting him back on Joel’s open palm though, he was kept like that. And Jimmy squirmed within the grasp, his chest tight with panic and the pressure.

 “Joel!” Grian exclaimed, so loud that Jimmy winced, unable to block his ears because his arms were trapped in Joel’s grip. “Give him back!”

 “Nope. Gotta learn to share.” Joel said, repeating Grian’s own words with a smirk of his own. “Besides, I think it’s time we got some answers.” At those words, Jimmy froze. He glanced up, meeting Joel’s eyes on accident. He knew them knowing he could talk would come back up.

 Grian’s frustration at Joel taking the tiny person from him ebbed away as his own curiosity got the better of him. It seemed both humans had forgotten about his fear.

 Or, more realistically, they were just ignoring it now.

 “So…what are you?” Joel asked, bringing Jimmy closer to eye level. Both humans were looking at him again. Not that they had ever stopped but now they were really looking. Like despite asking the question, they were still trying to figure it out for themselves.

 Jimmy shifted, at least, as much as he could in the grip. What would they do if he didn’t answer? Would the grip around him grow tighter? Would they take back their words of not hurting him? Jimmy didn’t want to find out but his throat still felt blocked from fear. “I-I…I…” He tried, his voice shaky and his words stuttering. 

 Grian and Joel leaned in even closer, eyes wide with awe. “He really can speak.” Grian muttered, despite the fact Jimmy had only managed to say the same one word three times.

 The hand finally opened up around him, and he all but fell into Joel’s open palm. There was no sense of relief for Jimmy, though. “Come on, what are you?” Joel asked once more, pressing him to try and speak again. Jimmy tried his best to swallow the lump in his throat.

 “I’m…I’m a borrower.” He finally forced out, not meeting their eyes. Joel blinked, having gotten his answer but not knowing what that meant.

 “A what?” Joel asked, feeling confused. He wasn’t sure what he had expected, but it definitely wasn’t that.

 Grian hummed, looking like he was in deep thought for a moment, the name triggering something deep in his mind. “Why does that sound familiar…?” He muttered to himself. Joel turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow.

 “Huh?” He asked Grian but Grian just shook his head.

 “Nothing. Not important.” Grian turned his attention back to, what was apparently, a borrower. “So, what does that mean? What’s a borrower?” Grian asked.

 Jimmy winced, but he had known simply saying what he was wouldn’t be enough for them. “I’m like you…just smaller. We, um, borrow things from humans…in order to survive.” Though it was easier to talk now, his panic had not lessened at all. He refused to look up at them as he spoke, afraid the words would catch in his throat again if he did.

 “I’ve never heard of anything like that before.” Joel commented and looked to Grian who only gave a shrug in response. Joel grinned as he turned back towards the borrower, poking him in the side again. “Although, based on what you described, it sounds more like you’re a little thief instead.” 

 Jimmy tensed, Joel unknowingly hitting a sore spot for Jimmy and his kind. Before he could stop himself, the words flowed. “We don’t steal, we-we just take what you wouldn’t miss.” Jimmy bit back and then shot a hand over his mouth when he realized what he had said. But instead of being angry, Joel let out a surprised laugh.

 “Oh, so the borrower can also talk back, huh?” Joel grinned and Jimmy felt a deep fear settle in his gut. “That’s so cute.” Shame rose up and showed on Jimmy’s cheeks. The condescending tone was starting to grate on his nerves.

 “I think that still counts as stealing.” Grian also chimed in and then reached over and once again plucked Jimmy off of Joel’s hands. Jimmy yelped and Joel startled, turning to glare at Grian.

 “Okay, no, that was definitely still my turn that time.” Joel said, his tone frustrated. Before Jimmy could even fully sit down on Grian’s palm, Joel was grabbing him again. 

 “Joel! Seriously, I want to hold him too.” Grian said, eyes narrowed and then reached his hand to grab for Jimmy again. Joel pulled his hands back, jostling Jimmy and making him feel dizzy. “You’re actually going to hurt him if you keep grabbing him and moving him around like that!”

 “Hey! You’re the one who grabbed him first!” Joel yelled and Jimmy placed his hands over his ears, their voices too loud, too much.

 Everything was too much. Their voices, their touches, their anger. They didn’t see him as a person, just an object, something to argue over, something to keep and look at and-and-and--

 “Stop!” He yelled and both humans froze. Jimmy was currently in Grian’s hands again, but Joel’s hand was close by, having reached out to grab him once again. They looked down at him, eyes wide and Jimmy had to quickly look away as tears began to form. They fell as he closed his eyes tight, hugging himself. “Please stop…please…please just let me go…”

 It was silent for a long, long moment. Jimmy could feel his heart beat in his head, pounding as he waited for what the humans would do to him. He shook as he let himself finally cry, it being long overdue.

 “Oh…blummin’ hell…” He heard Joel mutter and Jimmy flinched. The hand he was on started to move then and Jimmy gasped and held himself tighter, waiting for the grip to close around him and squeeze, or for him to be put in some sort of-of cage or jar or something…

 Jimmy’s eyes flew open as he was placed on a hard surface and looked just in time to see Grian’s hands leave. He looked around, expecting to see glass or bars but…he had simply been placed on the nightstand. Joel’s nightstand, if he wasn’t mistaken. 

 “Hey…” Grian’s voice cut through his thoughts and he flinched, eyes snapping up to look at the two humans towering over him. They looked…sad. Maybe even upset. That only terrified Jimmy more, his fear outweighing his confusion. Grian, when he noticed Jimmy’s attention was on him, continued. “We’re…we’re really sorry. We didn’t…we didn’t realize how much we were scaring you.”

 Jimmy blinked, his mind going blank as the confusion came back. They were…sorry? What? What was going on?

 “We were just…curious.” Joel chimed in, his words falling a bit flat. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked away from Jimmy. “I guess that’s really not an excuse though, huh?”

 Jimmy didn’t know what was happening. One minute they were fighting over him, treating him like a toy they had found, and now…now they were apologizing to him? “What…What are you doing?” Jimmy’s voice was still shaky, his cheeks still wet with tears, but he had to know.

 Grian winced. “We’re apologizing. Because…we messed up.” Grian and Joel exchanged a glance with each other, before Grian turned back to Jimmy. “And, well…you told us to stop. So we did.”

 Jimmy took in a shaky breath, unbelieving. “I really wasn’t expecting you to actually listen.” At his words, both humans winced once again.

 “Yeah…” Joel said with a sigh. “That’s definitely on us.”

 There was a pause, all three of them not knowing what to do. Jimmy could still feel himself trembling but now the fear was joined by something else. Something unknown. After a moment, Grian lowered himself to be more eye level with Jimmy. Jimmy flinched at the sudden movement and eye contact and Grian bit his lip at the reaction.

 “I know it’s not much, but we really are sorry. We’re not going to hurt you and we’re not…going to grab you again.” Grian said, his voice far softer than Jimmy had ever heard it. “We definitely went about this all wrong.” Grian said with a slight self-deprecating laugh.

 “Really wrong. We’re idiots.” Joel said, his tone also self-deprecating. “Grabbing you, fighting over you. We were treating you like a blummin’...I don’t know. But we weren’t treating you like a person.”

 Grian nodded in agreement and Jimmy’s eyes widened at their words. Could they really be…but that didn’t make any sense. Humans weren’t like that. Right? They acted like Grian and Joel had before, not…not like this.

 “Hey.” Grian said again, getting Jimmy’s attention. His smile was small, not quite meeting his eyes, and his voice low. “We should have asked this first but…what’s your name?”

 Jimmy felt his throat close up at how much he wanted to cry again. No one had asked him his name in…years. Of course, this was also his first time talking to anyone in just as long. But the sentiment was still there. Especially to be asked his name by a human…things really had taken a 180 here.

 “...J-Jimmy.” He managed to get out. It felt weird to say his name out loud.

 “It’s good to meet you Jimmy.” Grian said and if it was weird to hear his own voice say his name, it was definitely weird hearing it come out of a human’s mouth. “I’m Grian. And this is Joel.”

 “I know.” Jimmy said and then hunched in on himself when he realized what he had said. But the humans didn’t appear angry, just…confused.

 “You know?” Joel asked, uncrossing his arms and tilting his head.

 “I-I mean, I didn’t, I…well…” Jimmy tried to come up with something, waving his hands in front of him as he did so.

 “You must have overheard it, right?” Grian chimed in, interrupting Jimmy’s stuttering. Jimmy tensed, looking at Grian.

 “I…yeah. You’ve…you’ve said it a few times. To each other.” Jimmy answered, his eyes glancing away as he lowered his hands.

 “Oh, yeah I guess that makes sense.” Joel said and then paused for a moment, thinking something over. “If you don’t mind me asking…where did you come from?”

 Jimmy didn’t know why he felt inclined to answer. Maybe because the humans were acting so different from before, maybe because he still felt fear at them going back to that if he didn’t, but either way, Jimmy found himself answering. “I live in the uh…the walls. Of this building.”

 Joel hummed. “I guess that…makes sense?” He didn’t sound too sure of that though. “But then, what were you doing in our room?”

 Jimmy bit his lip. They already thought he was some sort of thief, what would they think if he told them he was trying to borrow from them. Would they be mad?

 Grian frowned at Joel’s question, wondering the same thing. But as Jimmy didn’t seem keen on answering, Grian decided to go back and walk through everything that had happened. They first saw Jimmy in the middle of the room and when he ran, Grian swears he remembers him dropping something…

 Grian stood back up and looked behind him toward the floor. Something small caught his eyes and he went over to it, bending down and picking it up, bringing it with him as he went back to his full height. His eyes widened with realization when he saw the object Jimmy had dropped was the piece of bacon from Joel’s sandwich. The one that he had dropped on the floor earlier that day.

 “Were you…trying to find food?” Grian asked, turning back around to look at Jimmy. Jimmy’s eyes were wide, his shaking growing once again.

 “I…” Jimmy started but quickly trailed off, his arms reaching to hug himself. At the piece of food, he was suddenly reminded of just how hungry he was. The fear had dulled the ache in his stomach but now it felt like it was eating itself. The empty gnawing feeling making him curl around himself even more.

 Not to mention, his dry throat. The tears had been a bad idea. He was so thirsty. The mix of fear, hunger, and dehydration was quite the messy combination.

 Both Grian and Joel looked at each other and then at Jimmy and then at the piece of cold, stale bacon in Grian’s hands. It was nothing more than a crumb, trash as far as the humans were concerned but Jimmy had risked his life for it. “Oh for goodness sake…” Joel muttered to himself.

 Jimmy bit his lip, eyes not leaving the piece of bacon pinched between Grian’s fingers. His stomach pains were becoming too much. And with everything else boiling over and being too much, he needed his stomach aches to lessen. He needed something to lessen and his hunger looked to be his best option right now. He swallowed thickly and glanced back up at the humans, hoping they wouldn’t be mad. “Can…can I have it? Please?” He forced himself to ask, trying to ignore the shame he felt creeping in again.

 Something in Grian and Joel broke at that. To be so hungry that you would take trash left on the floor was…awful. Not to mention how scared Jimmy still was of them. To ask them despite his fear was telling, that was for sure. The two humans looked at each other for a long moment, an understanding passing over them. They nodded, knowing what they had to do. Grian turned back to Jimmy, keeping his tone as soft as possible.

 “No.”

 Jimmy’s breath hitched and the arms around his midsection tightened. Of course it was going to be a no, of course. He shouldn’t have asked, now they knew how desperate he was. They could take advantage of that now.

 “Hey.” Grian’s voice cut him out of those thoughts and Jimmy looked at him. “It’s not what you think. It’s just…” Grian looked to Joel, who nodded.

 “We think we have a better idea.”

[piss-pumpkin]

💐Miscommunication and makeup

Older!dipper pines x reader (chapter 2)

~3.7k words

Prev master list

A/n: I tried hard to avoid gender coding in this chapter, feel free to give me notes idk how I did. Makeup is gender neutral I’ll die on that hill idc

When you woke, it was because of him. A gentle jostling beside you startling you awake. Your eyes were still practically sealed shut, a layer of crust keeping you from opening them. You furrowed your brow as you wiped it away, pressing your eyes tight together.

”Sorry, Y/n,” Dipper whispered. His voice was still hoarse. 

You could only groan in response, rubbing your eyes with such a force that you could see changing colours through the eyelids. As you lifted your head off his shoulder, you immediately felt a pain shoot through your neck.  Perhaps sleeping sitting up with a crooked head was not the most intelligent of ideas. “What time?” you asked groggily.

Dipper stumbled over you to get off the bed, nearly tripping over the edge in the process. Against the odds though, he found his phone. You watched as he tapped the screen, and recoiled slightly from the light.    “Eleven-ish.”

You nodded, and rolled your neck. Whenever it bent to the right you felt an intense cramp. Fun. Still sitting on the bed, head straightened against the headboard now, you looked up at him. “Are you getting up?” you sighed. You weren’t sure you wanted the answer. 

He yawned, stretching his arms above his head. “May as well.” 

Once again, you groaned. “Ugh, fine,” you said, squinting up at him in an almost sour expression. You rolled along out of bed, standing up with him, stretching. 

You started to walk to the door, and noticed Mabel was absent from her bed, and her sheets and blankets were in a pile at the foot. Messy, the same condition you’d left Dippers. He followed behind you, then branched off to stumble almost blindly into the bathroom while you went to find your toothbrush in your bag. Unfortunately, you’d left that bag in the living room, meaning you’d have to speak to people before you brushed your teeth, washed your face, or even truly woke up. 

There were jumbled voices from the kitchen. People were talking, yes, but it was too early to comprehend the words from another room. 

You followed the noise, and found… Pacifica. Her and Mabel were talking at the table.  

When they saw you, they had the same reaction. “Y/n!” They said, nearly in unison. They looked at each other after, mouths open, acknowledging the telepathy.

Pacifica pointed at you, “Y/n, I told you earlier so you better remember, my birthday party tomorrow.”

You thought a moment, then recalled. June twentieth was her birthday. The date had already past, you just missed it when you came here, but lucky for you the party wasn’t on the actual day. “Yes, of course, how could I forget,” you grumbled.

”Great, I’m reminding you that you’re all invited. And you better come early so I don’t have to talk to my parents friends all night.”

“Pacifica, who do you take us for, I personally would never let such a fate befall you.” It was mostly true. You knew how insufferable her family could be.

Dipper walked in behind you. “Oh, the party, right?” He was still groggy, his voice low from sleep, but he looked a lot more awake then he did moments earlier.

Pacifica laughed, “Yes, that.” She turned back to Mabel for a moment before addressing the room. “Just remember it’s a lot smaller then the big annual party you guys always go to, this one’s at my actual house.” She scoffed at herself, and folded her arms across her chest in something close to shame. “So temper your expectations.”

Of course. She lived in a McMansion rather then a full manor, which was incredibly embarrassing to rich people. So much so, that to hide the shame, her family rented out their old house from McGucket for their bigger parties. 

Dipper smiled, “All your family’s parties are huge, Pacifica.” You rolled you neck, again trying to shake the soreness as they spoke.

Pacifica snickered, “Any party worth going to would look huge to you people.”

Dipper shook his head, a smile on his face.

This was all well and good, but you were still sore and gross. “It’s true Dipper, you have no culture,” you said, walking out to go brush your teeth. You heard a faint agreement from Pacifica as you left.

                                              …

As you came back to the living room, you saw Dipper laying back in the chair. 

Dipper perked you as you entered the room. “Oh, hey, Y/n!” He approached you almost hesitantly, and rubbed the back of his neck, “I was meaning to ask you, uh, wanna go to Pacificas party with me, and like hangout and stuff?”

Your mouth fell slightly open in a smile. Was he serious? He was just going for it? Maybe asking you out? Perhaps? It seemed you were wrong in your assumption that he was a coward, maybe he had more balls then you. He was red in the face and fidgeting anxiously. You started to answer but-

“-A-as, uh, friends, of course”

Fuck. You waved your hand and tried to hide any trace of disappointment from your face. “Yeah, of course!” you smiled, “Who else would be my date, Mabel? You fucking know she’s gonna pick like, six hot guys to pine after… and Pacifica has to talk to all her parents friends for half the night, there’s no saving her from that.” 

Dipper laughed lightly, “hard not to feel bad for both of them.” He ran his fingers through his hair a moment, face still flushed. “A-anyway, I gotta go find Mabel,” he stuttered, “see if she’s… alive.”

You squinted, “alright then, go check that. I’m sure it’s… urgent.” 

Dipper nodded, “very.” With that, he left in a hurry, and started upstairs, nearly running.

                                            …

Mabel was leaving her room, having just finished looking through her bags for a party dress. Turns out she forgot to bring one, unfortunately for her. 

It was when she was at the top of the stairs that she saw her brother, red in the face and speed walking towards her, making vicious eye contact. “Ugh, Dip?” She started, but her Dippers glare silenced her. 

He grabbed her by the sleeve and whispered, “Mabel, I’m going to die.”

”Um,” Mabel said, unimpressed. “Okay.” She let him pull her away from the stairs, out of earshot. Mabel was having a time. She was being led by the sleeve by a quite sweaty Dipper into their room. He sat her down, and sighed. “Okay Mabel,” he started, “what I’m about to say can’t leave this room, you have to promise not to tell anyone.”

Right away, this was a tad suspicious. “Uh, that’s-“

”Listen man, you gotta,” Dipper said, starting to pace around the room. “You gotta swear not to tell- you know what?” He turned around and pointed at his sister, “swear on Waddles not to tell y/n, okay?”

Mabel’s eyes widened, and her brow lifted into a curious expression. “God damn dude, okay,” she said, holding out her pinkie for him to shake. He took it gladly, clearly satisfied with himself. “I’m intrigued now, what is it?” She tapped her feet on the ground with restless energy as she sat on her bed, and listened to Dipper.

”Mabel,” he rasped, sounding close to death. “I fucked up really bad, Mabel.” He was pacing around the room anxiously. He was walking in a circle at the centre of the room, and retraced the floor so many times Mabel wondered if his footprints would be embedded in it by the days end. “Mabel I think I’m going to die.”

Mabel couldn’t help smile, and laugh a small laugh. “Okay, my dear brother, do you want to elaborate? Take a deep breath or two and tell me why?” She clapped her hands together at her chin, and pointed at him with them. “Or are we just going to be doing this all day?”

Dipper sighed, and wiped his face. He dragged his hands down his cheeks, pulling and contorting his features as he did it. “I asked Y/n to the party thing,” he said, pupils shrunk and eyes wide. He pressed his hands back to his cheeks, and pushed firming inward, putting as much pressure on his face as possible.

Mabel, depose her brothers dread, gasped. “WHAT?” she yelled, kicking her feet faster, and punching the bed at her sides. “How is that a bad-“

”As a friend,” he said, cutting her off.

Mabels face fell, and she but he inside of her cheek. “Don’t get my hopes up like that again, Dip.”

Dipper shook his head, and waved his hands in front of him. “That’s not the worst of it, somehow,” he said, turning away and covering his face. “I was so awkward about it.”

Mabel looked quizzically at him, but stayed quiet to let him speak. 

“I started out trying to just ask them, not specific if as like, my date or not…” Dipper turned around, red in the face to look at Mabel. “And I did, I did do it. I walked up to them and asked them,” he said, shaking his head. 

Mabel still wasn’t sure how he could have fumbled it. She knew her brother wasn’t the most socially intelligent, but it seemed like he was doing well, according to his story. 

“But I backed out,” he said, hanging his head. “As soon as I said it, I got scared, and before they could even respond-“ Dipper took a deep breath, and threw his hands out in front of him, gesturing wildly to Mabel. “-I said just as friends though, and clammed up, and rushed away, embarrassing myself.”

Mabel winced. It appears her brother did fumble it. “Okay, that’s not great,” she started.

”No it is not.” Dipper paced faster, “And I didn’t even get a chance to see how they reacted, I was so in my head I got no data from this either.”

”Bro, don’t call it data,” Mabel sighed “that’s weird. But uh, yeah, that’s kinda cringe of you.” 

Dipper stopped in front of her, “Thanks Mabel, you’re helpful as always.”

Mabel laughed, and laid back in her bed. “Dude, what do I even say to that! I have nothing to contribute to this situation!”

Dipper sighed. “Yeah… neither would I. 

Mabel left that interaction with a smile. She felt the pity, the empathy, and the undeniable urge to make fun of him, which she decided to do at a later date. She still had to find or make a dress for the party, that came first. 

She was thinking about what to do. She did have money, she could buy a dress from the mall and have fun shopping… but at the same time making one could be fun. Or she could borrow one from Pacifica at a way higher quality… 

Mabel was too deep in the maze of these three conflicting thoughts which seemed to baffle her. So deep in thought that she did not notice you, zoning out in the living room. 

“Mabel!” You said, snapping your fingers to get her attention. “Mabel guess what interaction I just had, that I am mentally recovering from.”

Mabel perked right up, stopping in her tracks. She muttered just quiet enough for you to hear, but not understand, “I don’t think I have to guess.”

”What?” You said, leaning forward in the chair to better hear her. 

“What happened, I said,” Mabel lied, coming in closer. She sat down on the arm of the chair. 

“You know Pacificas party, yeah?” You looked up at her, with a tired and exasperated smile. She nodded down at you, wearing a smile of her own. A smirk though, a knowing one. “Well Dipper asked me to go with him, right?” 

You looked over at her, expecting a reaction. Mabel did her best to feign surprise, every bone in her body wanting to go back on her promise to Dipper. She resisted though, and let you tell the story.

”But before I can even say yes and be all smooth about it, he say just as friends. Ugh. Life,” you say, leaning your head back. “Just as friends, what to think of that.”

”Yikes,” Mabel said. She had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from saying more.

You took a deep breath, “I guess I should be flattered though, right? Cuz if he asked me as friends, then there’s nobody he wants to go with as more then friends, and I’m his first choice…” you looked over to Mabel, as if seeking confirmation in her big brown eyes. Much to your surprise, they have nothing away. 

Mabel could tell by a look that your mind was racing. 

“Oh god, or maybe he wants to go with me as friends cuz he’s to pussy to ask out somebody else he actually likes.” You whipped your head over to Mabel, your eyes wide with a thought you didn’t believe you were having for the first time. “Wait, do you think he could like Pacifica? Like I know she thinks he’s cute and has like, a thing for him, but… ugh he’d have a huge chance with her…”

Mabel bit her tongue. She did make a promise not to tell… but maybe she could suggest. “What if he likes you, but was too scared to ask you to be his date? Like that’s why he added the whole and friends thing after?”

You thought for a moment. “Hmm,” you thought aloud. “It’s a valid theory, but I’m not sure I like my odds.” 

Mabel sighed, “I think you’re odds are fine, honestly pretty good.”

”I see the possibility, I see the possibility,” you punched Mabel in the arm lightly. “Thanks, uh-“ you stuttered, not knowing if you had to say it. “A word of this to him and you’re dead.”

Mabel sighed, a small smile crossing her lips. “Yeah, I know the drill. Mabel was having a time, best friends with two of the largest idiots she knew.

                                            …

You were headed to Pacificas house, as she offered you free range of her family’s closet for the party. Mabel offered to make clothes with you, or go shopping, but this was easier. And Pacifica was a much busier person then Mabel, and you’d take most opportunities to hangout with her. 

The open road felt good, especially in gravity falls. In a small town like this, the roads were safe and easy, no highways and few mean drivers. Except you, on occasion.

Ford was in the passenger seat, nit picking. “Y/n, you forgot to shoulder check on that turn.”

”I really think that’s not true, actually, you just didn’t see.”

Ford laughed, “you tell the tester that when you go for your N and you’ll fail on the spot.”

You groaned, “Maybe the tester will see how well I shoulder check, and I won’t have to say that.” It was tough life only have a learners license. You were at the mercy of your driving teacher, who was unfortunately not Stan today. You got to break a lot more laws with Stan.

You pulled into Pacificas driveway, met by an impressive McMansion in front of you. It was nowhere near the size of the former Northwest manor, and Pacifica made sure you knew that, but it was still huge. Much larger then your home. Much larger then any home in your neighbourhood, or any other you’d been inside for that matter. 

You got out of the car, and Ford took the drivers seat. “I’d say your driving today was… adequate. It was fine, but you still need a lot of work.”

”I’ll take adequate, that’s still a win” you said, making a W with your hands as you walked backwards away.

”Well no, it’s a D+ grade,” Ford replied, “but I guess that’s a pass these days.” With that, he waved, and shut the door. With a wave back, you turned around to face the home.

The door had a fancy knocker, but you knew if Pacifica knew you thought that was cool, she’d say her old house had giant double doors. She was practically in love with one upping herself. You hit the knocker twice before trying the knob. It was of course, locked. Even though she was expecting you, she still had rich parents.

You heard a lock click, and then there she was. “Heyyy,” you said, stepping inside. You kicked off your shoes, and the floor was cold on your feet. 

“Heyyyy,” she said back. Her hair was pushed back in a thick and poofy hair band. “Come on, let’s have a fucking makeover montage,” she laughed, leading you to her room. Despite her claiming this was a poor person house, you had to ascend large and grand stairs in the foyer to get there.

As you got to Pacificas room, you went to flip down on her bed. Incredibly soft. “What do you mean makeover, I thought I was just getting clothes?”

Pacifica chuckled, and stared to open her walk-in closet, looking at shoes. “I thought that too, but then I had a second thought-“

”That’s impressive, for you,” you cut in.

”Ha, Ha,” she laughed sarcastically. “You say that like you’re any better.” She poked her head out of the closet to sneer at you, and you sneered back happily. “But I was thinking, why stop at clothes?” 

You sighed, and got up to follow her to the closet. “Well alright, what are you thinking then?” you asked, knowing whatever she had planned was inevitable. 

She beamed at you, “The full kit, colour matching, accessories, shoes, makeup, styling… if you want that is…” she trailed off at the end, but her eyes still held hope. As much as it seemed like a lot, why say no? What was the fun in that? 

“Alright, I’m game,” you nodded. As you did, Pacifica practically jumped. “I’m kinda indecisive though, so you lead?”

Pacifica nodded eagerly, “of course.” She bounded over to the clothing wracks and began to rifle through. “You have no idea how fun this will be for me, I love planning outfits for parties.”

”Consider this an extra birthday gift then, I guess. Go wild, I’ll wear whatever.” You followed her, and gazed at the array of fabrics.

She snickered, “in that case, I’ll even do a makeup look for you, all original…ish.” She was still staring at the clothes, looking up at them pondering. “For starters, are we thinking dress or suit, because I have both and both would look hot on you.”

That was a question you had to think very hard about.

As the night went on, she had you try shoes, jewels, and specifically colours to find the perfect combinations. And plus, it was incredibly nice to spend so much time with her, catching up and resuming your friendship after the school-year gap. She was still her. Still a little snobbish, but well meaning, and quite endearing. And for reasons unknown, Pacifica was good  like at this, and when she was done with the clothing and you looked in the mirror, you struggled to think of a time you looked better and it felt this natural. 

“Alright, now that that’s sorted,” Pacifica said, several hours after you started, “Makeup, if you’re still down.

You yawned, it was getting late. “Yeah, alright. Can I stay over?” 

Pacifica laughed, “need you ask? Of course!” 

“Alright, I’ll wash my face and text my aunt,” you said, going to her bathroom. She had some very high end looking facial cleansers. Your aunt Susan was very okay with it, the laid back woman she was. You made sure to thank her. You texted Dip too, letting him know you won’t be able to read with him… if he was even up. You didn’t linger on the phone long enough to see if he was.

Coming back, you were sat on her fancy couch, the kind with one armrest and wood carved legs. She sat at the vanity, looking through her makeup and hair products. “Alright… are you going to do the makeup now, and then again tomorrow for the party?”

”Yeah, I wouldn’t make you sleep in it.” She walked over with a handful of hair things and face things, too many for you to identify any individually. “Same with your hair. Think of today like the trial run, and tomorrow I’ll iron out any kinks… and probably get my makeup artist to do it for you.”

”You have a makeup artist?” you asked as she started to pick though what to do first.

”Yeah, I have to look professional, represent the family, you know.”

”The why get so good at doing it yourself?” She was already applying things to your face, and you didn’t question her methods.

”So I know what I want and what to ask for,” she said. “Like for you, I’ll take a picture of it and just show her, and she’ll do it better.”

You nodded instinctively.

”Hey, hold still!” Pacifica hissed. “I almost smudged shit.”

You hummed a quiet “Mmmhmm, sorry,” tiredly. The best part was when she did your eyeliner, because you got to close your eyes.

When she finished, you looked stunning. You couldn’t rub your eyes, but it was worth it. Pacifica made a few notes on what she did, and took a picture of your face. “Alright, we’re free. I’ll get you some makeup remover.”

”Mmm, thanks you.”

You laid your head back, and shook out the styling from your hair. It had some glitter in it, which fell on the sheets of Pacificas bed. You’d sweep that up later. 

Pacifica came back to find your head on one of her pillows. “Hey, don’t fall asleep yet, don’t get crusty.” 

“Fine,” you muttered. No crusty for you, and you had to be at the best for the party. You laughed to yourself. The best for a bunch of rich people, and your just as friends date. Tomorrow night was set to be interesting, at least. 

Next chapter

Hope I didn’t fem code the reader. Anyway. Pacifica is fun to write for me, I like to put her in whenever I can, even if as a character it’s likely she’d be pretty busy.

[elaratyrell]

Poor Unfortunate Souls {Part 2/3 -> Kiss The Girl}

*All images found on Pinterest. Moodboard made by yours truly*

Dark ! Ursula! Aemond x Fem! Eric! Reader x Ariel! Jacaerys

Warnings: Aemond mind controls the reader, sexual dreams, including Aemond touching the reader without clear consent *Divider from Firefly Graphics*

Synopsis: Jacaerys Velaryon, the reluctant heir to Atlantica. The moment he saw you, he knew he would never see someone who could capture him with their beauty again. You would haunt him eternally. In a desperate attempt to meet you, he turns to Aemond Targaryen, an outcast from the merfolk, to help him walk amongst the land dwellers. But when Aemond lays his eyes on you, he knows he has to have you. By any means necessary.

Chapter Synopsis: Jacaerys goes to Aemond for help in becoming human. The banished prince grants him his wish for legs in return for his voice, but has other, darker intentions. For Jacaerys, for Rhaenyra, and for you.

Part One Jace's Ending Aemond's Ending

“Don’t look at me like that. How was I supposed to know they would do that?” Lucerys crossed his arms as Vermax and Syrax glared at him, the former slapping him on the arm with his tail and making the younger prince flinch back from him.

“I didn’t mean to tell!” He exclaimed. “It was an acciden-“

Once again, Syrax clamped his mouth shut between her claw as Vhagar slithered out of Jacaerys’ grotto. Luke felt goosebumps prickle on his skin at the sight of the best, a shudder running down his spine.

The memories were murky at best, but Lucerys still had the odd night terror of the night of Aemond’s banishment. He remembered seeing the knife on the sea floor, Aemond swimming towards him with a sharp, jagged rock in hand. He remembered grabbing the knife as the older prince grabbed him to feed him to Vhagar, and he remembered Aemond’s screams as he blindly slashed the knife wherever he could reach.

He only heard whispers after that. Of the trial, and how the dowager queen Alicent, Aemond’s mother, was the only one to plead her son’s case, and how Rhaenyra didn’t listen.

And how she died several weeks after her favourite son was exiled.

Even Aemond’s siblings knew he’d gone too far. And his grandfather, Otto, had watched with a stony expression as the prince was cast out with nothing and no one except Vhagar.

Lucerys made no effort to follow the beast, that is until Jacaerys also emerged from his destroyed cavern, hot on the eel’s trail.

Not wanting to alert Vhagar to his presence, Luke silently swam up behind Jace, hissing in his ear.

“Where in the seven hells are you going with that… that thing?”

“I’m going to see Aemond.” Jace replied firmly, brushing his brother away.

Luke gasped. “What? Are you crazy, Jace? He… he’s a demon- he’s the devil.” He protested as Vermax swam circles around his friend in protest.

“Well why don’t you go and tell mother and Daemon about it then? You seem to be rather good at that.” Jace retorted, shooting a glare at his brother.

“Jace… I-“

“You should go Luke. I don’t want Vhagar seeing you. Aemond can see and communicate through her.” He interrupted.

Before Luke could make any more protests, Syrax put herself between the two brothers, gesturing for him to leave. She then gestured for Vermax to follow the older prince to where Vhagar was taking him. Despite his hesitation, Luke understood that his life was at risk by being there, which could jeopardise Jace’s even more. Reluctantly, he turned and swam away back to Atlantica. Once he had swam out of sight and Syrax was sure he was obeying her order, she also began chasing after Jace and Vhagar with Vermax.

Jace knew he was taking a risk, and quite possibly risking his life by going to his uncle, but he was desperate. He knew he didn’t belong in this world, and that he was a disgrace of an heir, of a son, to his mother, and so he needed to see if he could find where he belonged.

And he was certain you were the key to that.

Even so, there was a small nagging sensation in the back of his mind as he and Vhagar approached Aemond’s lair. It was the skeleton of an ancient sea monster, an ancestor of creatures like Vhagar, with sapphire blue light seeping out through the gaps in the skeleton like smoke from a chimney.

“This way,” Vhagar rumbled, slithering in through the mouth of the monster. The fact that such a mighty beast as Vhagar looked rather small compared to the skeleton only made Jace that much more uneasy.

And that uneasiness grew as he entered the skeleton. There, on the floor, ceiling and crawling up the sides, were hundreds of grotesque creatures. They were a swamp green, dull yellow eyes watching Jace as he tried to avoid contact them, a look of disgust on his features. They were a garden of all the souls that Aemond had claimed over time, and maybe even others that Alys had done so before him.

There was no doubt the former sea witch was also among them.

Jace let out a yelp of horror as one of the souls lurched forward, wrapping itself around him, frantically trying to stop him from going any further. Unlike the other souls, this one had vibrant green eyes. Another soul that was slightly taller, and older than the first, grabbed ahold of Jace’s tail in a slightly more painful hold than the other soul, also trying to hold him back.

Jace managed to wrestle himself free from the poor souls’ grips, rubbing his wrist from where one of the creatures had grabbed him. He hesitated as Vhagar slithered into the shadows behind a large conch shell, coiling up like a python, her blue eye focused on the prince, watching him as he lingered in the doorway to what seemed to be Aemond’s… work room? He supposed.

There was a large basin- or cauldron, he supposed, in the centre of the room. Shelves lined the walls, stacked with jars and bottles of the most likely vile ingredients for whatever potions or spell Aemond cast to entrap another soul. A desk rested in one corner, a mirror hanging on the wall. The large conch shell that was connected to both the ceiling and the floor seemed to be Aemond’s bed chambers, with Vhagar coiled around it like a guard dog.

And there, stood over the desk, was Aemond.

He had certainly grown since the last time Jace saw him; his silver hair was longer, his face more defined with matured, sharper features. One eye, lilac like his siblings as Jace remembered. But the other had been replaced by a sapphire, glowing brilliantly in the light. There was a scar running through his brow, down to midway down his cheek.

A souvenir of what Lucerys did to him that fateful day.

Nevertheless he resembled the distinctive features of the ancient royal bloodlines, just as his siblings did.

But it was at the waist where they truly differed.

Where his siblings had inherited their father’s genes of having a fish tail, with his older brother Aegon’s glittering gold and black, his sister Helaena’s pale blue and and silver, and his younger brother Daeron’s cobalt and green, Aemond had taken after his mother, and the house of Hightower.

Rather than a fishtail, Aemond had six ebony tentacles, the underside of which were a vibrant blue to match his eye. From his neck hung a shard of what appeared to be dragon glass, an ancient relic from royal ancestors. It glimmered a faint blue against the pale porcelain of his skin.

“Don’t you know it’s rude to linger in doorway, nephew?” Aemond finally spoke, turning to look at Jacaerys, who simply gaped back at him, his mind completely blank and his mouth hung slightly open.

“It is also rude to stare. Hm, one might question your upbringing as a prince of the realm.” Aemond added, moving from the desk to stand in front of the basin, his good eye piercing right through Jace like a knife.

”I- uncle… I am here because-“

“I know why you’re here, nephew,” Aemond interrupted. “I have been watching- well, Vhagar has been watching. You want me to help you with this little infatuation for you have with a human, is that correct.”

There was a small smirk of his features as he spoke, almost in a taunting manner to the younger prince.

“Y-yes. She’s a-“

“Princess. I know.” He rolled his good eye at his nephew, waving his hand over the basin. In a cloud of blue smoke your face appeared above the basin, and Jace stared at it longingly. Perhaps he was a little too entranced by the mere image of your face, that he didn’t see the way his uncle’s eye darkened slightly as he also studied your face, or the way the corner of his lip tugged upwards into a smirk, or the way he gripped the side of the basin that little bit tighter.

“I truly don’t blame you. She is a rather… exquisite… creature…” Aemond murmured. The smirk on his face widened as he felt Jace’s glare burning into him, watching as the younger prince clenched his fists out of the corner of his working eye. He merely chuckled in mild amusement.

“Now, now, nephew. I was merely complimenting your tastes.” He chided. “As for your problem, the solution seems simple enough.”

“I-it does?” Jace asked hopefully, moving forward, closer towards the basin.

“Indeed,” Aemond hummed, waving his hand through your image and making it disappear in a puff of blue smoke. “To get what you want, two options lie in front of you. You could become a human yourself…” he watched the way Jace’s eyes lit up at the first suggestion before continuing. “…Or… I could turn her… into a mermaid-“

“No! I mean… I would prefer to become human, uncle.” Jace interrupted hastily. He hesitated slightly. “Can… can you really do that?” He asked, making Aemond shoot him a small glare. Jace shrank back slightly from him in response.

“Dear, naïve, nephew,” Aemond sighed. “It’s what I do, is it not? I help poor unfortunate merfolk, such as yourself. Those who have no one else to turn to. I admit, in the past I have made a few… errors, shall we say?” Almost subconsciously, one of his hands rose to his face, fingertips brushing against his scar before immediately returning to his side again. “But I can assure you in my exile I have mended my ways. Found my calling. The sea witch, Alys… she taught me.”

“And… and where is she now?” Jace asked shakily.

“She… was needed elsewhere.” He brushed off the question. When a loud screeching wail echoed from the garden of the polyp creatures, a fist slammed down on the rim of the cauldron. “Lyka!” He yelled. [Quiet!]

He cleared his throat, letting out a small breath through his nose before continuing to his nephew in a calmer manner. “Nowadays I have repented. Found my faith, like my mother always wanted me to…”

There was a small glimmer in that lilac eye of his at the thought of Alicent, the only person who ever had faith in him. He had heard of her death of course, and how his grandfather, Otto, had just stood by and done nothing to help.

And for that sin, the former hand of the king was now just another soul in his garden.

“Fortunately in my exile, Alys took me in and taught me her sorcery. And I decided to use it on behalf of those miserable, lonely, depressed… pathetic…” He muttered that last part under his breath, making Vhagar snort in amusement. “Poor, unfortunate souls. Those in pain, or need. They came to me with their troubles, whether it were changing their appearance, or becoming stronger, or helping them find their true love…”

“And… you helped them?”

“Why, of course, dear nephew,” Aemond replied. “Indeed I helped them… although there were those few occasions- they only happened once or twice, no need to look so terrified, nephew, who failed to pay their price to me. You see I need a small token in payment for my services, and I had to… well…”

Jace followed Aemond’s gaze to the hallway of those trapped souls and shuddered.

“I may have had the odd complaint nephew, but I can assure you, I’m certain you can pay your owed debt to me.”

The way Aemond was staring at Jacaerys unnerved him. There was something lingering behind that lilac gaze and that rather tight lipped smile.

“S-so what would my deal be?” Jace asked.

“I will give you three days, nephew. Before the sun sets on the third day, if you get the princess to fall in love with you and seal it with a true love’s kiss, and that's a proper kiss on the lips, mind you, can't make it too easy, you will remain a human permanently. But if you fail to do so, you turn back into a mermaid… and belong… to me.”

Syrax suddenly surged forward to clamp her claws down on Jace’s tail in a feeble attempt to drag him away from the exiled former prince of the realm, but Vhagar’s tail grabbed the crustacean, pulling her away.

”So, nephew,” Aemond drew closer to the prince, extending his hand. “Do we have a deal?”

Jace also went to extend his hand, but faltered. “If I become human I… I’ll never see my mother again. Or… or Vermax or Luke or Joffrey. Rhaena, Baela, little Viserys-“

”But you’ll have your princess,” Aemond smirked. “And besides, you certainly don’t belong in this world, hm?”

Jace winced at Aemond’s use of Daemon’s words, yet still hesitated.

“Life is full of tough choices,” Aemond continued with an almost solemn expression, but that small smirk remained, as though taunting Jace. Mocking him.

“I… I guess so I… I should at least try…”

“Oh, and one more thing,” Aemond added, pulling his hand away just as Jace was about to shake it. “We still have to discuss your payment to me, nephew.”

“I-I don’t have any money on me-“

“I rarely require money. It’s often something a little more valuable and substantial than that.”

“But I don’t know if I-“

“I don’t ask for much, just a token.” Aemond’s voice was slightly strained from his nephew’s hesitation, his patience was thinning.

Jace’s gaze trailed to that gleaming sapphire, a sickening thought intruding his mind. Almost as though he could read Jace’s mind, Aemond chuckled.

“No, nephew. I do not require your eye. That debt… is owed by someone else…” He murmured. “No, no, no, nephew. What I require of you… is your voice.” He said it so simply, as though it were like paying the smallest of fees. Jace’s hand instinctively went to his throat.

“My... my voice?“

“Yes. Meaning no more talking, singing, zip.” His lip curled into a smile, but it held no warmth. “I’m sure you’ll be fine. If she likes short, curly haired brunettes then she’ll think you’re a real catch. And besides, there are other ways to attract someone than talking, nephew…”

“W-what do you mean…?” Jace asked, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“Physically.”

“I… oh…” Jace mumbled, staring at the ground as Aemond’s implication dawned on him. The thought hadn’t even crossed his mind.

“Many human women don’t appreciate men who drone on and on anyway, nephew. They’ll think you boring. If anything, I’m doing you a favour. They’ll dote and swoon on you if you listen, but don’t talk. So…”

Jace was still simply staring at his uncle, his hand still resting on his neck.

“GIVE ME YOUR VOICE-“ Aemond suddenly exclaimed, surging forward but stopping himself before he could reach Jace. He let out a breath. “Hurry now nephew… make your choice. I’m a very busy man who hasn’t got all day to wait for you to make your decision… it won’t cost much. Just your little voice.” His words were still sharp, but were spoken in a more softer tone after his outburst.

“I… uh…”

“If you want to cross that bridge and find your lady love, you’re going to have to pay the toll… if not… you know where to leave.” He turned away from Jacaerys to pet Vhagar.

Jacaerys weighed his options in his mind. He could leave the very home he always had to try and find a place of belonging… to find you… or he could stay, and although he would be able to speak and be with his family, was that really where his heart truly lied?

“Alright!” Jace exclaimed, making Aemond turn back to face him. “Alright I… I’ll do it…”

Another tug at his tail made him glance behind him to see Vermax frantically trying to pull him away from Aemond, but he ignored it, flapping his tail and forcing the fish to let go of him. He swam from forward towards Aemond before Vermax or Syrax, could try to grab him again.

“Wonderful…” Aemond smirked, his teeth glinting in the dim light. With a snap of his fingers numerous bottles, jars and other various containers lifted themselves from their place on the shelves hung on the walls of the skeleton and floated down to the cauldron, which by this point was billowing blue smoke.

”Now, nephew,” Aemond said, conjuring a glowing, golden scroll in front of Jace. “You must sign the contract. Merely outlining the terms of our deal as a way so I keep my payments up to date. You know how cunning some merfolk can be… not that I would ever believe that of you but…” He pressed a fish bone quill into his nephew’s hand. “You can never be too careful.”

Jace tried to steady his trembling hand as he raised the quill to the scroll. Aemond retreated back, smirking down at Vhagar as Jace sighed his name. No sooner than he did so, the scroll rolled up by itself and vanished along with the quill.

Aemond closed his eyes, his hands cast over the cauldron, the blue smoke concealing him from Jace’s view as he murmured in high Valyrian under his breath. Jace felt himself retreating as the plumes of smoke began reaching out to him. It surrounded him, and two further tendrils in the shape of spindly blue hands burst upwards from the cauldron, illuminating Aemond in a sapphire light that only made his eye glow brighter. Jace wanted to flee in that moment, swim as fast as his tail could move him back home to Rhaenyra, to the safety of the palace walls, but Aemond had him trapped now.

“Sing, nephew.” Aemond ordered. “Sing!”

And so Jacaerys complied with the sea sorcerer’s command, singing the first song that came into his mind, the song he’d known off by heart from a young age.

The song he’d sung to you.

He resisted every urge not the falter in his song as those ghostly hands advanced towards him. One hand wrapped around his middle to stop him moving, and the other reached down into his throat. It felt at though he were being choked, and then as something was being ripped out from within him as the hand drew back, holding his voice.

Immediately, Jace reached up to his throat, he couldn’t feel anything. It felt like he were frozen in fear and couldn’t even make out a whisper. The smoke circling him at this point was spinning around him like a glowing whirlpool, whipping faster and closer around him as Aemond grabbed the glowing golden orb from those hands, entrapping it in the pendant hanging from his neck.

The smile he gave Jace sent a chill down his spine.

“It’s done.”

The whirlpool surrounding Jace had completely entrapped him within its clutches, holding him in place as a searing pain shot through his tail, like someone was cutting it in half. He writhed in pain as his tail split into two, his scales shedding to reveal human flesh beneath. It felt like ripping a scab off and exposing the raw skin beneath to the air. He ground his teeth together in a suppressed groan as another shudder of pain shot through him, this time his tail fins being changed into feet.

It didn’t help that all he could hear through the pain was Aemond laughing at his suffering in an almost maniacal way.

The burning pain subsided as Jace stared down at his newly formed legs, the whirlpool dissipating in an instant. Jace’s hand immediately flew to his neck as water filled his lungs.

He couldn’t breathe.

He found himself looking desperately to Aemond for help, but his uncle merely smiled.

Rather frantically, he kicked his new legs and flailed his arms to try and propel himself up to the surface.

He looked down to see Vermax holding one of his arms, Syrax on the other, helping him kick upwards. His eyes drooped slightly, his mind foggy and vision blurry as continued to kick, the surface lit in the early morning glow of sunrise acting like a beacon.

Jace let out a choked gasp as he finally broke through the ocean’s surface, feeling the sun’s warmth on his skin for the first time.

As he caught his breath, Syrax and Vermax keeping him afloat as they swam him inshore, he looked up at the sky, painted in gold and orange as the dawn rose with the morning.

Gripping ahold of a rock jagging outwards to the sky, Jace couldn’t help but smile as he felt the warmth of the sun on his skin, the sea breeze ruffling his damp chestnut curls. Leaning back against the rock in the shallows, he glanced upwards to see your castle in the distance.

You were so close.

All he needed was to learn how to walk… and to find some clothes.

He brushed his curls out of his eyes, raising an eyebrow at the glares Syrax and Vermax were both sending his way. Ignoring them, he raised one of his legs out of the water, gazing in pure wonder as he wiggled his toes, letting out a silent laugh.

Syrax and Vermax didn’t return his amusement.

A loud squawk sounded from the sky as Cannibal landed on Jace’s extended leg. The bird tilted his head, as though trying to figure out what had changed about the young prince. He raised a wing, gesturing towards Jace’s hair, getting an amused shake in response. Cannibal then mimed using what had been dubbed “the dinglehopper”- which was, in fact, just a fork- on his feathered, which received the same response of no.

Syrax hopped from the rock beside Jace and onto his leg alongside Cannibal, pointing down at his leg. Cannibal glanced once again at Jace’s leg, letting out a squawk of realisation, jumping into the air to hover above Jace’s head, flying around in circles and letting out screech after screech of disbelief. Jace shook with a silent laugh at the bird’s clueless antics, highly amused by his stupidity and Syrax’s annoyance.

Three days…

He needed a kiss from you in three days…

He could do that… hopefully.

No, he could do that. He will. He knows you, he knows you yearn for the same things as he does. He’s certain you’re the one for him.

A steely determination was set in those chocolate eyes of his as he braced a hand on the rock, slowly rising to his feet on wobbling legs. He drew his hand away from the rock behind him, only to immediately fall over into the water.

Sitting back up and letting out a spluttering cough, he was greeted with Syrax shaking her head at him, earning a roll of his eyes in response. Jumping back in outrage, she extended a claw out at him before pointing it out to the ocean. When he shook his head adamantly, she immediately leaped off the rock and into the sea, no doubt to go and immediately alert Rhaenyra of the situation.

Jace surged forward in alarm, picking the crab up and holding her in his hands, continuing to shake his head rather frantically as Syrax continued jabbing her claw out into the sea. He sent her a pleading look, his warm eyes only saying one thing to her.

Please. Please don’t tell her.

Dropping her claw, she shook her head again, scuttling up his arm to get back to the rock, where she promptly turned her back on him as though she were sulking.

Jacaerys had always told his mother that she spoiled Syrax too much. Smiling, he leaned down press a kiss to the top of her head, making her cross her claws over one another. She was still glaring at him, but it was softer.

A loud caw made Syrax jump back slightly as Cannibal suddenly landed beside her, clutching a torn sail in his beak.

Meanwhile, you had decided to take an early morning walk with Max. You hadn’t been sleeping well since your near drowning incident. For one, you hadn’t been able to get that beautiful melody and voice out of your head, and two, you’d been having dreams since then. You wouldn’t remember them when you awoke, except for a piercing blue jewel that haunted your thoughts. You didn’t know it’s significance, but you couldn’t quite shake it from your mind.

You played the small melody you remembered on your flute, your brows furrowed as you desperately searched every corner of your mind for a face that might match the voice.

Yet all you saw was that blue sapphire.

You let out a rather frustrated sigh, looking down at Max. “That voice. I can’t get it out of my head, Max,” You muttered. “I’ve looked everywhere. Sent word across the kingdom, and yet I’ve found… absolutely nothing.” You groaned, putting your flute in your pocket as you walked along the cove.

Max sniffed the air, letting out a small bark.

“What is it? Max- Max!” You cried out as your dog suddenly bolted down the beach. Letting out a small sigh, you ran after him.

Even though Max had disappeared from sight, you were able to track him down by the excited barking your can hear. He’d clearly found something- or someone.

Upon seeing you turn the corner, Max ran back over to your excitedly, jumping up and licking your face, letting out another excited bark.

“Quiet, Max. Gods, what has gotten into you- down, boy.”

Whilst obeying your orders, your pet had still not lost his excited nature, now eagerly tugging at your trouser leg to drag you over to wherever he had found what was so interesting.

“Max, stop. Why are you so- oh.” You stopped, slightly startled as you looked up to see you were being watched. “Oh, I see… it’s alright, boy.” You patted his head, taking a step towards where Jace was hidden slightly behind a rock. “Hi there. Are you okay? I know he may seem kind of intimidating but he’s quite the opposite. I’m sorry if he scared you.”

All Jace did was stare at you in return, a small, almost shy smile on his face. You were dressed in a similar outfit to the one he first saw you in- a white linen shirt, black trousers and black boots. You hair was loose, and was ruffling slightly in the early morning sea breeze.

As you looked at him, your brows furrowed. There was something almost familiar about those deep brown eyes and that charming smile.

“You… seem kind of… familiar… have we… have we met before?” You asked almost hesitantly.

Jace’s face lit up, enthusiastically nodding in response as he grabbed your hand. You looked down, feeling the soft warmth of his skin. It felt… familiar. He looked familiar…

“I knew it. I knew you looked familiar. I- I’ve been looking for you,” you smiled at him, giving his hand a small squeeze as Max excitedly barked. “What’s your name?”

Jace opened his mouth, but when he tried to speak, it felt like his throat was on fire. His smile fell slightly, his free hand moving to his throat.

“W-what’s wrong? Can’t… can’t you speak?” You asked, earning a shake in response.

Frowning, you took your hand away from his, ignoring the snort Max let out. It had felt like you might have found your mystery saviour… but you were mistaken. All the same, it was unclear why this mysterious man had seemed so excited to see you. Maybe he just knew you were the princess?

“Well, I guess you weren’t who I thought-” You suddenly stopped, seemingly only just realising that Jace was wearing nothing, save for a torn sail wrapped around his waist, held in place by a rope that was tied rather precariously.

You flushed slightly, giving him a sweeping glance. Although he may not be who you had hoped, the young man was surely handsome. A strong jaw, long brown curls and warm chestnut eyes. He had a well defined torso and strong arms, although his legs seemed to be shaking slightly from where he was leaning against the rock.

“Are you hurt?” You asked, and Jace shook his head in response. He waved his arm around in an almost pantomiming way, clearly try to explain something to you and failing miserably.

“You need help?” You asked, only making his movements become more erratic as he desperately tried to communicate with you. It looked almost comedic.

“I-I’m sorry I don’t- woah!” You exclaimed as he went to step forward, only to have his legs buckle beneath him, causing him to fall on top of you and sending you both falling to the floor. You stood up and helped him do the same, wrapping one of your arms around his middle and placing one of his over your shoulders to support him. Jace felt his cheeks heat up at the close contact with you.

“Careful. You must be shaken from whatever you’ve been through, huh?” You asked, and Jace felt himself nod along. In a way, he had, but not in the way you believed. You probably thought him some shipwreck survivor lost far from home.

“It’s okay, I’ll help you. I’ll get you some fresh clothes and food and… and you can stay at the castle for as long as you need.” You offered.

Jace felt his heart warm at your kindness, using you for support as you led him up the beach and towards the castle, with Syrax unbeknownst to the both of you gripping her claws tightly onto the sheet.

As Vermax watched you lead Jace up to the castle, although sad he could follow his friend no further, shared a small smile with Cannibal, who squawked enthusiastically at Jace’s plan officially beginning to be put into action.

Hopefully three days would be enough time.

After taking Jace up to the castle, you left him with the maids while you made sure lunch was being ready. Grimsby certainly raised an eyebrow when you told him you would have company for lunch, but you brushed off his questions, telling him that Jace was the sole survivor of a shipwreck, and he was welcome to stay until he could go home before leaving to get ready yourself.

You sat there at your vanity, pondering the events of that morning while your nurse Johanna brushed out your hair.

“You know… if you’re looking for a man, I know some decent ones. Ones that talk and that don’t appear out of nowhere, dressed in rags and washed up from a shipwreck.”

“I’ve met your brothers, Johanna,” You replied coolly in response. “And I would personally prefer if they didn’t speak either.”

Johanna closed her mouth, pinning back your hair. “Yes malady. Of course. I misspoke. Now… which gown would you prefer?”

Jace tugged uncomfortably at the collar of his shirt as he waited for you to enter for lunch. So far he’d bathed and put on a shirt for the first time… the latter he wasn’t particularly enjoying. It felt constricting, somehow. His newly washed hair was brushed, his curls combed back slightly out of his face. He was dressed in a crisp white button up and a burgundy dinner jacket and matching trousers, a pair of black boots on his feet.

The only other person in the room, Grimsby, was stood by the window, looking out at the view of the sea. He occasionally glanced back at the guest, making sure he wasn’t stealing the silverware perhaps.

Jace looked up as the double doors to the dining room opened, his jaw dropping as he took the sight of you in.

You were dressed in a dress of the finest silks in a shade of rosy pink, the sweetheart neckline showing the barest hint of cleavage. The dress came in at the waist before flowing out into a fuller skirt, accentuating your figure. You wore a pair of diamond teardrop earrings and the slightest pink colouring to your lips.

Jace didn’t think you could look more stunning.

And yet there you were.

Jace hastily stood to his feet, as such was royal protocol in his realm whenever someone of royal lineage entered the room, but you simply smiled at him, telling him it wasn’t necessary and that he could sit down.

He wanted to tell you how beautiful you were, what a wonderful vision you looked in that gown, but he couldn’t.

All he could do was smile warmly at you, gesturing to you and nodding. You raised an eyebrow at him, slightly confused, looking down as though you thought you may have a stain on your gown or something, but Grimsby came to your rescue, taking his seat opposite Jace.

“I think he means to compliment you, Y/N.”

“Oh… are you?” You asked, and Jace immediately nodded. You gave him a warm smile, placing your hand over his. “Thank you. You look… very handsome.”

It was as those words left your mouth that you realised how nicely Jace scrubbed up. His hair was devoid of seaweed and sand, now freshly washed and hanging in soft curls down to just above his shoulder. His clothes fit him well, the red complimenting the warmness of his eyes.

You moved to sit down at your place at the head of the table, and Jace immediately stepped forward to push your chair in.

“My, my, perhaps I was mistaken,” Grimsby mused. “It is not often we have such a polite dinner guest.”

Jace was practically beaming as he took his seat. One of your maids, Carlotta, stepped forward to pour them all a goblet of wine, saying that lunch should be ready soon.

“You seem more content today, my dear,” Grimsby said.

“That’s because I haven’t been alone with my thoughts, Grim,” You replied.

“Mmm… more likely because you haven’t yet thought about galavanting off searching for strange undersea singing saviours.” He quipped in response, making your shoot him a small glare…

…And making Jace stare down at his empty plate to conceal the wide grin on his face.

It seemed as though you were thinking of him as much as he were thinking of you. As he looked down, he spotted one of his treasures that Rhaenyra had destroyed.

The dinglehopper.

He excitedly picked it up, inspecting the intricate carvings into the silver. It was more delicate than the one he had found in that shipwreck, but most likely still had the same purpose.

He held out the dinglehopper to you and you raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah it’s… a fork.” You said slowly. “Um… do you like it?”

Although his brows furrowed at you seemingly branding the object a fork, he nodded at your question, lifting the dinglehopper to his curls and dragging the fork through them, all the while looking at you with a wide smile. You simply stared back at him, wine goblet brought halfway to your lips. Grimsby looked downright flabbergasted.

Jace hastily put the fork down, staring down, cheeks flushed red in embarrassment.

Grimsby sent a rather perplexed look your way as you simply shrugged, taking a sip of your wine. He reached into his pocket and brought out his trusty pipe- a snarfblat- and a match, sending a weary glance to Jace as he watched it with interest.

He hesitated, glancing at the encouraging nod you gave him.

“Uh, do you like it?” He asked, receiving a very enthusiastic nod in response. He held the pipe out to Jace, who snatched it from his hold, inspecting it thoroughly.

“I’m glad you like it. It was passed down in my family for several genera-“

He was interrupted however, as Jace blew a large puff of smoke into his face, stopping him in his tracks. He sent a small glare your way as you bit back a small laugh by disguising it as a cough. That only seemed to make Jace happier, he was practically grinning from ear to ear at this point. He held the pipe back out to Grimsby, who placed it back in his pocket with a rather unenthusiastic thank you, dabbing his face with a white lace handkerchief.

“Why, Y/N, I think this is the first time I’ve seen you smile like this in, well, months.” Carlotta beamed at you.

“Yes… it’s amusing for some,” Grimsby muttered, continuing to dab at his ash ridden face.

Jace shot you a small smile, a pink dust powdering his cheeks as you returned the gesture.

“Carlotta, my dear, what’s for lunch?” Grimsby asked, wiping the majority of ash from his face.

“Oh, you’ll love it. Chef’s been fixing his speciality… stuffed crab!”

That made the smile vanish completely from Jace’s face, replaced by one of mild horror, which you immediately noticed.

“Do you not like stuffed crab? We can fix you up something else, I’m sure-“ You began, but Jace simply shook his head, giving you a rather tight lipped smile as he attempted to ignore the sick feeling welling up in his stomach.

”Don’t pester him, Y/N, the boy’s fine.” Grimsby chided, folding his blackened handkerchief and placing it back into his breast pocket.

The next several minutes were spent in a somewhat comfortable silence. Grimsby had lit his pipe and Jace was watching him smoke it with great interest, while you watched with a small smile on your face, sipping your wine. You didn’t know where Jace had come from, and he didn’t even know how to use a fork, but you found him strangely endearing.

The silence was short lived, as a serious of crashes were heard from the kitchen. You rose to your feet, but Carlotta stopped you.

“No need to stand, your majesty, I’ll just see what Louis is up to.”

“If you’re sure…” You murmured, sitting back down and watching as she hurried out of the dining hall, the crashes ceasing as Louis was no doubt being lectured by Carlotta, gods know what he was up to.

Carlotta soon came in carrying a tray with three dishes, each of which was covered by a silver dome covering.

“You know, Y/N, perhaps our guest here might enjoy seeing some of the sights of our kingdom. A tour, maybe?” Grimsby said, thanking Carlotta as she placed the dishes in front of them. “Y/N? Y/N?”

“Hmm? Oh, sorry Grimsby, what did you say?” You asked, tearing your gaze away from Jace and looking at the older man.

“I was just saying, that you can’t spend all of your time moping around. You should go out, socialise, get some colour to your cheeks. You know… have a life.”

As Grimsby spoke, he placed his pipe down to lift the dome, revealing two crabs. One, clearly dead, was a deep shade of red. The other however, seemed very much alive, and was a rather striking shade of gold.

Jace looked on in horror as Syrax opened one eye, bringing one of her claws up in a shushing motion to not draw attention to her.

“…You need to stop dawdling around and get your mind off…”

Jace made a beckoning motion to Syrax, lifting his plate cover enough so she could hurry onto his plate.

“I mean it’s not a bad idea,” You agreed, turning to look at Jace just as Syrax scuttled onto his plate, the dome promptly covering the crustacean. “If you’re interested, that is.”

Jace looked at you, not entirely sure what you were talking about. His mother would surely berate him for the lack of manners, but he was to focused on trying to save Syrax.

“So, would you like to join me on a tour of the kingdom tomorrow?” You prompted, making Jace vigorously nod in response, and arm leaning down on the plate covering, which had began to move.

“Wonderful,” Grimsby smiled. “It should do the world of good for the both of you. Now, let’s eat before this crab wanders off my plate.”

After lunch, which had consisted of Jace only eating his vegetables and Grimsby every single crab, you decided to give Jace a tour of your castle. He had listened with great interest as you explained the history of the castle, about how your family had inhabited it for generations after settling in the town.

You showed him the portrait hall, where every king and queen had been painted after their wedding. Jace couldn’t help but silently remark at the resemblance you had to both of your parents. You shared your mother’s kind eyes and full lips, but you had your father’s hair colour, and there was a similar trait you seemed to share with your father- the way you stood, and held yourself was identical. Like your father, you looked like a ruler.

A true heir to a kingdom.

You let out a small sigh as you reached the next spot on the wall where a blank canvas was hung up, encased in a golden frame encrusted in rubies and pearls.

“That’ll be me someday, I suppose,” You sighed. “Whenever I marry… no doubt when my parents return from their travels in a fortnight, they will have another proposal, or worse, a betrothal to announce. They won’t believe my story about my saviour.”

Jace’s eyes were welled up with sympathy for the way you almost seemed to wilt at the thought of marrying someone for a mere convenience. His throat burned as he yearned to say something, to scream at you that he was the one, that he could help you escape that horrible ordeal, but alas, all he could do was rest a hand on your shoulder, giving you a small, sorrowful smile.

You let out a deep breath, closing your eyes for a moment as you composed yourself. “Anyway, there’s no point telling you my sorrows. What good could it do?”

Jace frowned as you brushed off his hand, changing the subject away from your evident displeasure of royal duties to take him to your study.

It was a relatively smaller room compared to the others in your palace, but still more than spacious enough. There was a large window overlooking the sea, a wooden desk placed in front of it. Either side of the desk, two wooden shelves were hung up, with scrolls, a compass and a globe placed on them. Wooden book cases lined the wood panelled walls, stacked full of leather bound books on history, philosophy, ocean species and plants. An oil painting of a ship on the sea hung over the window. A lamp was resting on the desk, no doubt for when you were staying up late reading, or studying, or writing yet another speech for the kingdom.

Jace’s fingers traced over the gilded gold letters on the books, some faded with age while other gleamed in the afternoon sun.

“Yeah, quite the collection I suppose,” You observed, leaning back against the desk. “This study used to be my father’s when he was prince. Like him, I’ve spent years studying ancient histories and philosophers, practiced training with a sword and riding horses. I know practically everything about this kingdom, and the others that surround it.”

Jace failed to hide the grimace that twisted his features. He remembered his uncle expressing a similar sentiment when challenging Rhaenyra becoming queen and Jace being announced as her heir. It was an echo of his words that for some reason stirred an uneasiness with in him. Yet when you saw his expression, you laughed.

“I know, right? It’s dull. Centuries of knowledge drilled into my mind and it’s taught me nothing about how to rule. The sword training helped should any conflict arise with another kingdom, although that hasn’t happened for centuries. The philosophy is just theory and the history… let’s just say when you’ve heard those stories time after time it gets incredibly tedious.”

Jace’s expression cleared at your response, although that sense of unrest lingered slightly. You were so different to what he knew, and yet so similar to what he’d always yearned for. With you, he felt a sense of freedom. He wasn’t restricted by rules or a fear of judgement.

His hand stopped as he read the title of a book titled ‘Legends Of The Seas’, looking at you.

You walked towards him and reached up to grab the book, reading the cover and raising an eyebrow at him. Jace swallowed thickly as he caught a whiff of your scent. It was intoxicating.

He hesitantly reached for the book, nodding at you as though asking for permission. You handed it over to him, and he flicked through the pages until it landed on what he was after. He showed you the pages and you took a step closer to him, crossing your arms.

“Mermaids? Really?” You sighed. “You don’t think they’re real, do you?”

Jace pointed to himself, and then pointed at the illustration of a merman on the second page.

I’m a merman.

I’M. A. MERMAN.

He wanted to scream those words at you, but you just stared up at him.

“Oh, you’ve seen them, have you?” You challenged, implying something else from his frantic pointing. Knowing he wouldn’t be able to get his point across, he nodded. “I’m afraid I don’t believe you. They’re myths for a reason, you know.” You snorted. “Next you’ll be telling me that…” You flicked forward several pages. “…cecaelia are real too.”

YES he wanted to scream. YES AND HE’S MY UNCLE AND HE’S GOING TO CLAIM MY SOUL IN TWO DAYS AND HE’S A COMPLETE PSYCHO!

But instead, he simply nodded again, albeit with a little less ardour.

“Hmm… if you say so.” You shrugged, but it was obvious you still didn’t believe him.

He held onto the book as you returned to leaning against the desk, glancing down to your right as the blank sheet of parchment.

“You know, I’d really to know your name. Could you write it down for me?” You asked him, gesturing to where the roll of parchment rested on your desk behind you. There was a blue ink bottle and a red feather quill resting beside it.

Jace gave you a nod, and you smiled at him, moving aside to he could sit down on the wooden chair in front of the desk, the wood creaking slightly and the red leather seat cracked with age.

He opened the ink bottle, dipping the feather quill into the pot. As he lifted the quill, a few drops of ink dripped onto the table, but you assured him there wasn’t any trouble. He sheepishly smiled in an apology, gliding the pen down on the parchment to write J, but no sooner than he did, the ink disappeared, leaving the parchment bare.

“That’s strange,” You murmured as he tried again, but to no avail. “Let me try.” You took the quill from him and tried writing your own name, and the ink came out perfectly.

”Hmm… try again, maybe?” You suggest, making sure enough ink was on the quill before giving it back to him. Again, nothing came out, and Jace pushed the parchment away frustratedly.

He knew what was happening.

Aemond was up to his tricks, trying to get him to fail.

He knew his uncle was rather cunning, and would make this task as difficult as he possibly could, simply to claim his soul as revenge for Rhaenyra no doubt, or maybe even just for his own amusement.

“Maybe the ink is drying up. I’ll have to make sure to get some more when we go to the village tomorrow. Why don’t you just trace the letters on the parchment with your finger?” You suggested, your brows furrowed.

Jace’s chest heaved in a deep sigh. Not being able to talk was proving difficult enough, let alone when Aemond was putting even more obstacles in his path. Rather than tracing the parchment with his own finger, he instead grabbed your hand in his, your index finger resting on the paper as he traced a J and an a.

“J-a-“ You began, making Jace nod and continue.

“Um, e? No, c- yes, okay… a- e- r- g- no? Y then? Then s? Jacaerys- Jacaerys!”

You smiled widely as Jace nodded enthyusiastically.

“Jacaerys,” You pondered, looking down at the parchment. “That’s a pretty name.” You murmured.

Jace immediately flushed scarlet, promptly letting go of your hand as he felt his grow clammy. You thought he had a pretty name? He wanted to open his mouth and tell you how beautiful he found yours as well, but all he could do was point to your name on the parchment and then at you.

“You… like my name too?” You asked, receiving a nod in response. “Well thank you, Jacaerys- no?” Your brows furrowed as he held his thumb and index finger a distance apart, slowly bringing them together.

“You like your name shortened? Okay…” You thought to yourself for a moment. “Jacey?” You asked, making him immediately shake his head. You let out a small chuckle. “No? Uh… Jace? Jace. Well, thank you, Jace. You’re very sweet.” You gave him a warm smile and his hand a small squeeze, and Jace’s cheeks darkened even more.

He felt as though he could die happily right there and then.

That night, Jace leaned against his balcony, watching you play with Max in the gardens. You were dressed in a red linen shirt and black trousers, your laugh like a sweet melody in Jace’s ears as Max jumped up excitedly at you, tackling you to the ground.

Jace rested his chin on his palm, a rather love struck expression and a gentle smile on his face as he watched you. He suddenly stood up straight as you noticed his presence, returning your smile with a rather timid wave as he retreated into his bedroom and shut the door behind him.

He sat down at the dressed beside his bed, dragging a fork he’d stolen from dinner through his chocolate curls. He ignored Syrax as she glared at him from his bedside table, her claws crossed over one another, one leg tapping against the wood in the same way his mother would tap a finger while waiting for an explanation for whatever he’d done wrong.

Upon hearing a knock, Jace put his fork down and stood up and patted her head as he walked to the bedroom door, opening it to reveal you on the other side, leaning against the doorway with your hands resting in your pockets.

“I just… came to say goodnight,” You said with a small smile. Jace flushed slightly, a hand reaching to scratch the back of his neck as he nodded.

“So, goodnight. I hope you get a good night’s sleep, we’ve got a long day tomorrow,” You said, and he nodded, gesturing to you, as though he were trying to bid you the same wish.

You nodded. “Alright, I’ll leave you to it-“ You stopped, looking over his shoulder at where the fork was on his dresser. He quickly stepped to the side, blocking it from your line of vision.

“Okay, well goodnight.” You said, pushing yourself off the wall and turning away. “Oh, and by the way,” You said. “That brush okay your dresser beside the vase will detangle your curls much better than the fork.”

And with that you walked down the corridor, your figure illuminated by the dim lamplight. All Jace could do was watch after you in awe as your turned the corner, and disappeared from his sight. Part of him wanted to chase after you, but he knew he didn’t want to rush things and potentially scare you off.

Jace closed his door and sank down into the ruby red silk sheets. His new bed was even more comfortable than his own back in Atlantica. He smiled over at Syrax as she continued to glare at him. When she saw him meet her gaze, the turned her back on him, sulking like a spoilt child.

Jace rolled his eyes, pulling the covers over him and closing his eyes. In a way he was surprised at how quickly his fatigue had overcome him, but he’d only been human for a day, and his new legs ached and burned from use. Slumber soon took over him.

When she saw he was deep in sleep, Syrax blew out the lamp on the bedside table. Slowly, she edged closer to the pillow, dropping down onto it just by Jace’s head. She paused, and, seeing him stir but remain asleep, crept around his head to rest on the pillow behind him, falling asleep herself with a claw resting on his shoulder.

As Jace slept soundly in his bed, dreaming of you in bliss, the same could not be said for you.

Upon returning to your room, you had changed into a black silk nightgown and cleaned your teeth before settling down into bed. Usually you would read at least a chapter of whatever book you were reading before going to sleep, but you felt your eyelids droop before your head even touched the pillow. Blowing out the lamp, you soon fell fast asleep… and dreamt of a silver haired man.

You couldn’t see him from the waist down. If you looked down, all you saw was a shroud of inky shadow before something forced you to raise your head, a sort of invisible pull.

The man was strikingly handsome. His long silver hair was loose, cascading over his shoulders like a waterfall. One eye, a gentle lilac, the other… also hidden by the shadows.

He was bare chested, his pale skin glowing in the moonlight. He had a toned, strong body, a defined bone structure and a pendant hung from his neck. It looked like a shard of blue molten metal. Something you had never seen before.

He was, in a word, beautiful.

He simply stared at you, hands clasped behind his back, that lilac eye darkening slightly as it raked along your figure. His lips were twisted into a small smirk.

“Who are you?” You demanded, failing to suppress the waver in your voice. There was something that both intimidated and intrigued you about this mystery man. The way his eye pierced through you made you feel exposed, transparent, as though he could see straight through you, but there was such an allure to him.

The way he looked.

The way he looked at you.

The way he moved, no, glided towards you.

And the way you didn’t back away, or fight back as he reached out to you, slender fingers tracing down your cheek.

“You’ll find out soon enough, ñuha dārilaros.” He murmured, his hand moving to rest at the base of your neck. You stiffened under his touch, yet still found yourself unable to move. It was like you were hypnotised, entranced by him. [my princess]

“Soon... you will be mine…”

Meanwhile, Queen Rhaenyra sat on her throne, troubled. She had sent out her best soldiers and the other members of the royal family in search of her eldest son, who hadn’t been seen since she’d destroyed his collection. She’d spent the last several hours pacing back and forth around the throne room, waiting for any news.

“Any sign of them?” She asked as Daemon and Lucerys approached her.

”No. We’ve searched everywhere. There’s been no sight of Jacaerys, or Vermax. Or Syrax. Not a trace. Lord Corlys still has his fleet out searching the open waters, and Lord Cregan is patrolling the polar oceans.”

“Well keep looking. Leave no stone or shell unturned, no corner of the ocean unexplored. No one will rest until Jace is home and safe.” She leaned back on her throne, resting her hand against her forehead. “What have I done?” She whispered.

“You did what you thought was right, Rhaenyra,” Daemon replied. “Jacaerys will return. He’s probably hiding with Lord Cregan, sulking at you discovering his secret.”

“He can act impulsively, Daemon. If he’s done something reckless-“

“We will find him before it gets out of hand.” He interrupted, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Luke swallowed harshly, his hands clenched by his sides. “Maybe… maybe you shouldn’t have destroyed his collection.” He spluttered out, making both Daemon and Rhaenyra turn to him, guilt swimming in the latter’s teary eyes, and mild annoyance in the former’s.

“Lucerys-

“O-or maybe you shouldn’t do everything Daemon tells you. Maybe you should do what you feel is right. B-because I know you wouldn’t have thought of destroying it if he wasn’t there.”

“Luke!”

“You should learn to respect those above you, taoba.” Daemon replied, shooting a rather intimidating glare to the young prince. Despite being mildly nervous, Luke held his ground.

“It’s true! Everyone can see, they’re just too afraid of Daemon to speak up!”

“And with good reason-“

“Enough!” Rhaenyra held up a hand, silencing the two mermen. She let out a small sigh. “Daemon, leave. Continue searching for Jacaerys.”

“Of course, my Queen.” Daemon bowed before her before swimming out of the throne room, but not before shooting Luke a nasty glare.

“Luke-“

“I need to tell you something, mother.” Luke blurted out. He knew Jace didn’t want Rhaenyra to know what he’d decided to do, but as the hours passed and no one had found any sight of him, he had grown increasingly weary of Aemond granting him his wish.

“Luke, I’m trying to look for your brother so unless it’s important-“

“What if he’s not in the ocean.”

“W-what? What are you talking about-“

“What if…” Luke ran a hand through his dark curls. “What if he’s… up there…” He suggested, pointing to the surface.

“Luke,” Rhaenyra sighed, taking his hand in hers. “I understand that Jace has this bizarre fascination with the surface world but- why do you look so concerned, dearest?”

Concern had suddenly brewed the the Queen’s eyes at the way Lucerys was trembling slightly, his brows furrowed as though he were holding back tears.

“Luke, do you know something?” She asked.

He nodded, staring at the ground. “I-I promised that I wouldn’t tell…”

“Is your brother in danger, Luke?” She prompted, a gentler tone to her voice. Again, the prince nodded.

Rhaenyra looked up at the water’s surface, the moon casting a silvery glow.

“Did he try to become a human?” She asked, a pang of dread striking her heart.

“I… I think so he… he told me to leave him before I could find out. But why else would he go with… with that thing…?”

Rhaenyra hadn’t seen her second borne son look this shaken since he was a child, on the night of Aemond’s banishment.

“What thing?”

“V…” Luke swallowed harshly. “Vha…” he squeezed his eyes shut. The memories from that night were often blurry in his mind, but seeing the beast yesterday had brought then all flooding back.

“Vhagar?” Rhaenyra asked, and Luke nodded.

“Luke,” Rhaenyra cupped the boy’s face, meeting his gaze with hers. “You need to tell me everything. Now.”

Jace rose with the dawn the following morning, throwing the covers off of him with the excitement of seeing and spending the day with you bubbling in his chest. He would get the chance to see the kingdom today, and to see the day to day lives of the people.

His sudden awakening had startled Syrax, who jumped slightly as she was startled awake. She shot him a glare as he opened the doors to his wardrobe to choose a what to wear.

He’d never had to wear clothes before after all, and so held up a variety of outfits for Syrax to choose, each being greeted by a rather dismissive shake of her head. In the end, he chose one that she hadn’t chosen but he had liked- a rust coloured shirt and black trousers, as well as the boots he’d worn yesterday. His legs still wobbled slightly as he walked downstairs for breakfast, occasionally struggling to gain balance.

You weren’t awake yet, so he took his seat at the dining table from yesterday and patiently waited, simply enjoying seeing the newly risen sun casting a golden glow across the sea, which was a little more restless today than yesterday, the tide further in than it should have been and the waves crashing into the rocks dotted along the coastline rather aggressively.

Jace’s brows furrowed. What if it was his mother- no, no. He shook his head to himself, mentally reminding himself of how harsh her glare was the last time they spoke. The way she looked at him with such disappointment, she should be glad he was finally gone.

Jace instead focused on the sky, the few wisps of cloud that had formed illuminated in the golden glow, enhancing the streaks of coral and pink that painted the sky. It was a beautiful sight to see, one that he hadn’t been able to appreciate under the waves.

He rose to his feet as the double doors opened, slightly deflating at the sight of Grimsby, Carlotta and several maids entering, the former taking his seat and drawing out his pipe and the others setting various covered dishes in front of him. Jace, however, kept his gaze on the door. Carlotta sent him a knowing smile.

“Don’t you worry, she’ll be down in a minute or two.” She murmured to him, making him flush slightly in embarrassment.

Was it really that obvious he was looking for you?

He opened his mouth to protest his innocence, but shut it again when no sound came out. He simply shook his head at her, making her chuckle slightly.

“You can’t fool me. You were gazing at her all throughout dinner last night. I saw.” She smiled. “And if it helps, I saw her look at you too.” She added, shooting him a small wink as she and the maids left the dining hall, Jace gaping after her.

Was that true? Were you looking? Or did Carlotta say that to make him feel better? If you did, could he fulfil his end of the deal and get a kiss?

He didn’t have too much time to dwell on that, as a minute later the doors to the dining hall opened, and you walked inside.

You had elected to wear purple that day. A lilac blouse with a darker corset detailing that came in at the waist and an amethyst skirt that reached just below your knees. A pair of black pumps were on your feet. Your hair was tied back with a black ribbon to keep it out of your face. Jace noticed you looked beautiful as ever, but you had applied some powder to your cheeks in an attempt to conceal the slight darkness under your eyes, to hide your tiredness.

You looked tired, yet when your gaze locked onto Jace, you gave him your most dazzling smile, which he tried to return.

“Good morning,” You greeted, taking your seat at the head of the table. Jace nodded in response.

“Did you sleep well?” You asked, pouring yourself some coffee into a dainty china cup and Grimsby a cup of tea. Jace nodded again rather vigorously, gesturing to you to ask you the same.

“Oh, I slept fine.” You muttered rather dismissively, taking a sip of your coffee, your mind drifting to that mysterious silver haired man from your dream. You had been dreaming of him the past few nights, but last night was the first time that you had seen him relatively clearly and heard him speak. Before then, he had been completely shrouded in shadow, save for the small hint of silver hair, or flash of lilac from his eye.

You had pondered that he could be your mystery man, but then your mind wandered to Jace. You felt safe with him, and he made you feel warm inside, like a sense of home. With the silver haired man, you’d felt intimidated, yet intrigued. Bewitched, even. But there was a dangerous allure to him that sent a chill down your spine.

You forced the image of the man from your thoughts, deciding on instead spending the day showing Jace your kingdom, and seeing your people. They were your responsibility while your parents were away, and they would be your responsibility when the crown was passed to you.

After finishing breakfast, you led Jace outside where a black and gold carriage pulled by a beautiful bay horse was waiting. Jace had never seen a horse up close before, and rather nervously let you grab his hand and rest it on the horse’s nose, just as he’d rather admirably watched you do so a moment ago. He was soon put at ease as the horse nuzzled against his touch, a slight pink dusting to his cheeks at you standing right beside him, your hand still resting over his.

After you convinced Jace to stop feeding the horse handfuls of grass he’d torn up from your lawn, he opened the carriage door for you, his hand still interlocked with yours as he helped you into the carriage before following suite. You both waved to Carlotta and Grimsby, the former of whom sent Jace a nod and cheeky grin, before you grabbed the reins and started you on the nearby journey into the town.

As the horse led you down the lane into town, Jace excitedly pointed at every little thing he saw, whether that be a butterfly fluttering past, a rather interesting tree or a nearby field overgrown with wildflowers. You gave him that same, warm smile each time, finding his innocent joy rather beguiling. You did, however, panic slightly when you glanced over in his direction to be greeted with the sight of Jace leaning over the side of the carriage, watching the horses hooves trot down and kick up dust into his face from the road, causing him to cough and you to grab the back of his shirt and drag him back into the carriage properly.

As you led the carriage into town, you crossed a bridge built over a canal. Syrax, who had been hidden at the back of the carriage, peered over the side to see Vermax following them. His gaze flicked between you and Jace, but Syrax simply shook her head. Cannibal, flying overhead, softly squawked in disappointment.

You slowed the carriage to a stop, many of the townspeople stopping to greet and bow and wave to their princess and her companion. Jace watched softly as you greeted each and every one of them, shaking their hand and listening to whatever query or compliment they gave to you. How you graciously accepted the daisy a little girl shyly gave to you and how you helped load an elderly man’s shopping into his carriage. You would be a kind and gracious queen, Jace knew it.

Once the gathering had dispersed and the townspeople had gone back to their day to day lives, you tucked the daisy behind Jace’s ear and took him by the hand, surprising him by not even acknowledging how clammy they were, and led him past the rows of sweet little cottages and into the town centre.

It was bustling with crowds of people going about their business, whether that was going to the market, or spending a day out with their children.

When you reached the square, you immediately felt yourself being pulled over to where a man was gathering up chickens, and then over to where a crowd of children were watching a puppet show (although you rather hastily had to steer Jace away when he reached forward and pulled one of the puppets the puppeteers’ hand). No sooner than you did, he was dragging you over to where a band was playing in the centre of the square, where several couples both young, old and everything in between were dancing.

It was like he were experiencing everything for the very first time.

“Do you like dancing?” You asked, watching the way those warm brown eyes watched every spin, every step. He shyly shrugged in response, making you raise your eyebrows in surprise.

“You’ve never danced before?”

He shook his head, his shoulders heaving in a silent sigh as he watched the dancers longingly.

You bit your lip, taking his other hand so both of yours were in his, before leading him over. Initially he tried to resist, frantically shaking his head at you. He didn’t want to mess things up by dropping you, or accidentally stepping on your toes (he still wasn’t completely used to his new legs after all), but you persisted, moving one of his hands so it was placed on your back, your now free hand resting on his rather tense bicep, the other still clasped in his.

“Just follow my lead, okay Jace?” You smiled reassuringly at him, and Jace felt a warmth spread through him at how easily his name spilled from your tongue.

You stepped to the side slowly, and Jace kept his gaze fixed on your footsteps, how you would step back and to the side before bringing your feet together, twirling in a circle as you did so. He tried his best to copy those steps, eventually feeling comfortable enough to let his gaze to meet yours.

“See? You’re a natural.” You smiled, your hand moving from his bicep to rest against the back of his shoulder and neck, your fingertips brushing against his hair. “I can’t believe you’ve never danced before. It’s like you’ve been hidden from everyone your whole life.”

Because that’s exactly how it is, Jace thought as he span you around, his hand now resting on your waist to pull you closer. It was a bold move, but you let him do so, not shying away from his touch. Perhaps it was Jace’s imagination, but he could have sworn he’d felt you lean into it.

In another daring move, he broke his hand from yours to join his other on your waist, lifting you up and spinning you around, your fingers tangling in his chestnut curls as they wrapped around the back of his neck to hold onto him. Jace had always dreamed of how dancing with someone would feel, but he loved it even more when he was there, on land, dancing with you.

Jace would have happily spent the entire day dancing with you, but after an hour or so, he felt his legs start to ache, and he accidentally stumbled and stood on your foot, which he was profoundly apologetic about, but you assured him it wasn’t painful. And so you led him back towards the marketplace. He felt rather guilty about you spending your money on him, but you had insisted, and so he let you buy him a new pair of red leather boots. In return, he chose you a bouquet of flowers- red roses, he’d been told. You’d also bought some things for the palace, including yourself a new ink pot and a loaf of bread for the kitchens. You had been rather intrigued by a visiting jewellery merchant, Jace noticed, also admiring the jewels. He pointed at a rather beautiful pair of ruby earrings before gesturing to your own ears, which had a small pair of pearl earrings dangling from them today.

They would look stunning on you

“They are beautiful,” You agreed. “But I always found myself more partial to a sapphire.” You then added, pointing at a silver necklace set with the blue jewel. Jace grimaced in response, the sight of his uncle’s mutilated eye flashing to the forefront of his mind, only adding to the uneasiness in his stomach over the passing time.

Why did it have to be sapphires?

“What is it?” You asked as you noticed Jace’s expression. “Would it not suit me?”

Jace mentally cursed. If he could talk, it would be so easy to tell you that it would, of course it would look absolutely beautiful on you, but he personally thought the rubies would compliment your eyes more… and they were his favourite colour… and they wouldn’t remind him of his psychopath of an uncle.

So instead he nodded in agreement, before pointing at the earrings and nodding again.

“You… think the rubies would suit me more?” You asked, and he nodded again. “Okay, maybe you’re right… I was having a scarlet gown commissioned before the ball when my parents returned.”

A ball? Oh, how Jace would love to experience a ball.

He only hoped he could stay with you to see it one day.

His beaming smile as you purchased the earrings didn’t last as you also bought the sapphire necklace before leading him back to the carriage.

“You looked tired so I thought we could take a ride through the countryside.” You offered. “If you’re done here, that is. Although we can always come back here next week when the market returns.”

Jace nodded, opening the carriage door for you, trying to forget he only had one more day after this to get that kiss.

The horse drew away from the town in a gentle trot, the late afternoon breeze fluttering through Jace’s hair. He watched intently as you steered the horse down the lane, the road decked with trees either side, forests and meadows sprawling for miles, and yet the slight saltiness from the sea still lingered in the air.

“Do you want to try?” You asked, gesturing to the reins in your hands. He hesitated for a moment before nodding, letting you place the reins in his outstretched hands and position them correctly.

“There you go. You’re doing great.” You smiled at him, a hand resting on his shoulder in encouragement. His tense muscles relaxed slightly under your warm touch and praising words, and rather enthusiastically, he snapped at the reins as he’d seen you do so when you left the castle that morning.

“Wait, hang on- Jace!” You let out a small shriek as the horse reared in the air before bolting into a canter, surging down the lane. It suddenly surged to the left down a small pathway leading into the trees.

“Jace, you might want to ease up a bit- no, slow down! Slow down!” You exclaimed, bracing a hand on the carriage as the horse galloped in the direction of a large ditch. Jace, on the other hand, was showing no sign of doing so, a wide grin on his face as he instead encouraged the horse to speed up.

“Jace, what are you- oh shit!” You braised yourself as the horse leaped over the wide ditch, preparing yourself for the crash.

But it didn’t come.

Jace had slowed the horse down to a steady trot, and had a managed to find the main lane again, turning to look at you with a rather cheeky, yet charming, smile. You flushed slightly.

“Oh. Um… well done. Do you… want me to take the reins back?” You asked, but Jace shook his head, turning back to the road. He seemed to have gotten the hang of it, so you leaned back comfortably with a small shrug, your arms supporting the back of your head as you rode through the trees, the sun beginning to set in the sky.

After taking him for a little tour around the countryside you had steered him to a charming little restaurant for dinner. It was near a small lagoon, and was lit with lanterns set with different coloured glass, some were alight with an amethyst purple that matched your dress, others a deep wine red, or an ocean blue.

Jace watched you with admiration as you greeted the staff one by one, declining the offer of using a private dining room to instead favour a small table outside by the water beneath the lanterns, the hum of the crickets and gentle lapping of the lagoon waves against the shore creating a comfortable setting as the sun dipped below the trees, the sky streaked with gold, violet and pink.

You were approached throughout the dinner by multiple townspeople, who greeted you apologetically for the interruption to greet you, or gifted you with wildflowers. Jace simply watched with a soft smile on his face, flushing slightly whenever anybody turned their attention to him, shrinking back in his seat slightly as you recycled the same story you had told those in the castle.

The meal was far better than anything Jace had eaten in Atlantica, and as a surprise, you led him over to where a small wooden rowing boat for two was nestled in the reeds. Resting one foot on the boat to steady it, you helped Jace take his seat before following him, your hand holding his to maintain your balance.

You took ahold of the oars, not quite ready to hand the control to Jace in fear of your dinner being brought back up.

You rode a little way out into the lagoon, concealed by the reeds and the tall willow tree drooping over the bank, but making sure the water was shallow enough that Jace at least could stand up (you weren’t sure he could swim and didn’t want to concern him with being in deep water after the shipwreck ordeal).

Jace exhaled, spotting Vermax watching them from the water, Syrax resting on the reeds and Cannibal on a tree branch nearby. All three were watching the pair intently, and Jace shook his head once at them.

No kiss yet.

But everything was going so well, surely he could receive that true love’s kiss by the end of tonight. He had felt something when you were dancing. The way your eyes locked with his, the way you didn’t resist him holding you closer, and seemed to lean into his touch, or the way your hand seemed to grow slightly clammy as well when held in his.

Surely he couldn’t have imagined that?

You shot him a small smile as you placed the oars down, flexing your stiffened fingers slightly. You glanced around, not sure what the say. Do you ask him if he was okay? If he liked the spot you’d chosen? You weren’t sure, but Jace seemed very preoccupied by the willow tree at the edge of the lagoon. Or was he just lost in thought?

Before you could ask what had caught his attention, a dreadful sound pierced your ears. It was like someone dragging their nails down a blackboard. It was a shrill screeching sound, like some poor bird was in pain.

“Gods, it sounds like some poor creature needs to be put out of its misery.” You murmured.

Jace grimaced in response, his gaze locked on where Cannibal was squawking in the tree above, raising a wing as a gesture of you’re welcome, seemingly believing he was helping create a romantic atmosphere and that he was doing Jace a favour.

He let out a small sigh of relief as he saw Syrax climb up to the branch, a claw snapping around Cannibal’s beak. Her beady eyes glared him down, her other claw making swiping across her in a zip it motion before she jumped back down into the reeds.

“Seems like somebody was listening.” You mused, using one of the oars to steer you both into the centre of the lagoon. Jace gave a slight smile in response, simply glad that you’re back was facing his unhelpful feathered companion.

He was even more glad that Syrax, perched on a drooping reed leaf, dropped down into the water, and moments later as a small group of turtles appeared. Syrax tapped the shells of the turtles, creating a percussion sound that a small flock of ducks continued for her. She then jumped o back onto a reed, pointing at a group crickets that began to him a little louder.

She was creating music for them.

You seemed to have noticed, glancing around.

“It sounds so peaceful,” You mused. “Nature really is an incredible thing.”

Jace could only nod in agreement, his gaze now focused entirely on you, and how ethereal you looked in the silver glow of the moon and the golden hum of the fireflies circling the lagoon.

All Jace could think about was how much he wanted to succeed in his task, and how he wanted to be with you. As he admired you, it was at the forefront of his mind. How the clock was ticking. He was running out of time, but he had no idea how he would go about it. His mother had always taught him to ask permission first when courting a lady, but, of course, he was unable to. He felt too awkward, so shy around you, to approach the subject. But then again, if he didn’t kiss you, he would lose you forever.

Now was the perfect opportunity, he doubted he’d get a better one. The atmosphere was perfect, the setting was stunning, and you looked beautiful of course but… he didn’t quite know how to go about it. He didn’t even know what was going through your mind as you kept your gaze focused on him. He didn’t even know you were going through a similar mental dilemma.

You didn’t know why, usually you would never rush into such things, he hadn’t even spoken a single damn word to you, but there was something about Jace. You knew there was something familiar about him. Hell, you had even thought he could have been who you had been searching for, but since he couldn’t talk, that was impossible. But there was still something about him that drew you in. A silent charm to him.

You didn’t know why you were particularly focusing on the warmth of his eyes as they gazed at you, or the way his hair framed his face, or the shape of his lips…

You didn’t know why your mind went back to the day you’d spent together, the dancing, the rather intimate dinner.

And then you realised through all of that, every time you spent time together, his eyes were always intently focused on you, just as they were now, as though you were the only thing there. Perhaps you were only imagining that…

Or was he thinking the same thing as you?

You were to caught up in your own thoughts that you didn’t even notice the boat start to drift further into the lagoon. You didn’t notice the glare Jace sent down to where Vermax and those turtles were pushing the boat, or the way two pelicans swooped down to part the leaves of a willow tree to let the boat pass through. Or how the fireflies were circling the both of you now. You didn’t notice Syrax climbing onto Jace’s shoulder, goading him on to kiss you before returning to the water.

You weren’t snapped from your thoughts until Jace rested his hand over yours. You turned your hand and allowed him to hold it properly. He looked nervous, from the way his eyes darted from your hand to your lips and then up to yours eyes and back again, to the way he seemed to be biting his lip or the fact his hand was growing more clammy.

Was he feeling the same thing as you?

Almost like a magnetic pull, you leaned forward slightly, not quite realising you had done so until Jace did the same, and you realised how close you were, mere inches apart. Your eyes locked, and you could feel yourself drowning in them, noticing for the first time that there was a darker rim around his iris, and that in the glow of the fireflies that had began to hum louder, they had a honeyed colour to them, becoming lighter towards the centre.

Jace had a swarm of butterflies within him, feeling the apprehension bubbling up inside. Were you actually going to kiss him? You leaned in first after all… could he actually succeed and finally get his wish? Instinctively, he eyelids fluttered shut. He felt you draw back slightly, perhaps surprised at the possibly bold move, but your hand never left his.

And then he felt you lean forward again, the boat creaking slightly as you shifted closer to him. You closed your eyes as well as you leaned closer still, your lips mere inches apart from brushing against his. You could quite believe you were doing this, but something just felt right.

Jace’s heart was hammering within his chest, he couldn’t believe he was about to kiss you. He was so close…

Until the boat flipped over and sent the both of you tumbling into the lagoon.

The animals had scattered, both not wanting for you to see them, and also in fear of where Vhagar had slithered underneath the boat to flip it over before disappearing within the reeds, her teeth bared in a sickening grin and that blue eye glowing brighter than the moon, watching as you grabbed Jace’s hand, the both of you rising to your feet. He looked you over, those chestnut eyes brimmed with worry.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” You sighed, catching your breath. Fortunately the water was shallow enough that you could stand above the water level, you steadying the boat to let Jace clamber back on board. He then extended his hand to you to help you as well, you taking the oars and rowing the both of you back to shore.

Jace sat there silently, his shoulders slumped in defeat as he stared down at the water. He knew that wasn’t an accident, and his jaw clenched slightly in annoyance at his uncle’s interference.

Aemond had been watching Jace ever since he’d reached the surface, his amusement at Jace’s schoolboy like crush changing to irritation as it seemed like it was rubbing off on you.

He had been tracking Jace for months, knowing he was the perfect pawn to use against Rhaenyra. To take her throne and rule the seas in revenge of his banishment. The first thing he would do is take Lucerys’ eye.

For his mother.

He had heard of her passing shortly after his banishment, and the anguish he had felt had twisted his mind and blackened his heart. He had descended into madness in his exile, and although he had added his grandfather’s soul to his collection, he knew that was only the beginning.

And then he watched as Jace had become infatuated with you, and initially, he saw you as the perfect stepping stone to Rhaenyra’s downfall.

But then he found himself intrigued by you.

He had always carried some disdain for humans, viewing them as an inferior species. But your free spirit, and your good heart, such a contrast to him, had drawn him in. It didn’t help that you were such a stunning creature, more gorgeous than any mermaid he’d seen. And although that could be seen as weakness, he saw it as an opportunity.

After claiming Rhaenyra’s soul in return for Jace’s “freedom”, he would take control of the the oceans and dispose of those who ever opposed him, and then he would go to you, and claim you as his. He could imagine how soft your skin would feel against his, how you would feel trapped beneath him as he made you his, those sweet noises that would spill from your lips as you’d moan his name.

And then, he’d marry you, and become ruler on land and sea, his power unopposed, finally getting that vengeance on behalf of himself and his mother.

There was a small spanner in the works as you grew closer to Jace, but he had been sowing the seeds in his plan for some time, visions of him plaguing your dreams and observing you through Vhagar.

He gently rested a hand on Vhagar’s head as she swam into the cavern, giving a small hum of approval.

“Nice work, Vhagar,” He praised. “That was a little close. A little too close.” He glared at the cauldron, glaring at the image of you and Jace arriving back at castle, the both of you still damp from the lagoon debacle. Jace got out of the carriage, taking your hand and helping you step out, leading you into the castle where the maids would no doubt hurry to prepare you a nice warm bath.

“That little brat is doing better than I thought,” He mused. “At this rate, he’ll be kissing her by tomorrow’s sunset. No matter…” his lips twisted into a grin. “I suppose I’ll just have to take matters into my own hands…”

He reached up towards a cupboard, grabbing several bottles and throwing them to the basin, causing a cloud of blue smoke to explode from it. He waved his hand, and the image above the basin changed to where you were preparing yourself for bed, dressed in a pink silk nightgown that reached midway down your thighs. However, instead of going to bed for an early night as Aemond assumed you would, you left your room and walked down the hallway, knocking on Jace’s door.

“Hi… I just… wanted to say goodnight.” You muttered, you gaze focused on the floor. Jace frowned slightly. Did you regret the moment the two of you had shared? Did this mean he’d lost his chance?

He nodded, reaching for your hand, only for you to pull it away. You finally raised your gaze to look at him, but the smile you sent him didn’t reach your eyes.

“Sleep well,” You whispered, before leaning up and pressing a small kiss to his cheek. It was feather light, a simple brush of your lips, but it set Jace’s skin on fire, his cheeks flushing bright red as stared at you as you turned and hurried back down the hallway without looking back.

His hand raised to brush against his cheek where you’d kissed him, a small smile creeping onto him face.

Perhaps there was still a chance for him after all.

Aemond on the other hand, was glaring at the image, his knuckles white from where he was gripping the side of the basin so tightly.

“She will be mine,” He spat. “And his soul will be mine. And Rhaenyra?” He chuckled, the shard of dragonglass glowing a vivid blue. “I’ll have her trapped. She’ll be wriggling like a worm on a hook.”

You felt your mind swimming with conflicting thoughts, on whether you should pursue these feelings for Jace, or whether you should continue your search for your saviour.

You felt exhausted, both from the long day and the lack of sleep for last night, and so decided to get some rest, and hopefully sort out the conflict between your heart and your head tomorrow.

Just like last night, sleep overtook you as soon as your head touched the pillow.

And just like last night, you dreamed of the silver haired man.

It was almost as though he was waiting for you, standing right where you left him, that intense stare of his from the one visible eye making you instinctively shrink back. He was intimidatingly beautiful.

Even when he turned to fully face you, there was still something concealing the other side of his face from. A sort of barrier in your mind.

It only intrigued you more.

You took a step back as he advanced towards you. He almost seemed to glide, as though he were floating in the air. You took another step back, only to be greeted with an invisible wall, trapping you completely.

The man’s lip twisted into a smug smirk, a glint in that amethyst eye of his that only meant trouble, no doubt.

The man was soon enough right in front of you, looking down at you, his eye darkening as a his fingertips left feather light touches across your jaw, down your neck and across your collarbone before tracing down to your chest, a hint of cleavage showing. His hand then moved down to your breast, concealed beneath the thin silk of your nightgown. He let out a small hum of content at the gasp that left your lips as he gave it a small pinch, the peak hardening beneath his touch.

You felt yourself shiver beneath his touch, feeling as though you should push the man away and reject his advances, but you found yourself being unable to. You knew it was a dream, that you would wake up at any moment, but it still felt real.

“W-who… w-what are you…? You stuttered out, but the man raised his other hand and pressed his index finger to your lips.

“Hush now, ñuha dārilaros,” He murmured, his head leaning down to the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent. His hand that was on your breast was now creeping along your thigh, beneath the skirt of your rather flimsy nightdress.

Your breath hitched in your throat as his fingers grazed lightly over your core, his lips pressing against the base of your throat before tracing up your neck. He pressed another kiss to your jaw this time, before they ultimately reached your ear, tugging the lobe between his teeth.

“Soon, ñuha dārilaros,” He whispered, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. His hand pulled away from between your legs. “We will see each other very soon.”

You jolted awake with a start, your chest heaving and a thin sheen of sweat glistening on your skin. You threw the covers off you, glancing at the small clock hanging above the mantelpiece.

You had only been asleep for half an hour.

And you doubted you would be welcome to any more, not wanting to be greeted with the sight of the silver haired man again. Why he haunted your dreams, you didn’t have a clue. But you were certain it was hardly a coincidence.

Deciding that the nightly sea air may do you some good, you changed from that nightgown into a white cotton shirt and navy trousers, pulling your boots onto your feet.

You lit the lamp beside your bed and carried it out of your room, creeping downstairs and out the back door in the kitchens. You blew out the lamp and left it on the kitchen table, walking down through the small courtyard and sitting on the terrace, your legs crossed beneath you.

You let out a deep sigh, glancing back at the castle. Jace’s curtains were drawn, the lamps blown out. Most would have either taken the opportunity of a longer night’s sleep, and would either be in bed already or preparing to do so.

Except for one other, that is.

Your gaze looked out towards the sea. The waves were a lot more aggressive today, and the tide came in far quicker than usual.

You jumped slightly as you felt a hand rest gently on your shoulder.

”Y/N,” Grimsby sighed. “You seem unlike your usual self.”

“I’m just… lost in thought,” You muttered in response, your gazed fixed on how the moon cast a glow on the ocean’s surface, the light being cast taking on a more indicolite colour.

“Y/N, if I may say, far better than a dream man, is one made of flesh and blood. One that is warm, gentlemanly and friendly. One that is right in front of your eyes…”

Your gaze moved to Jace’s bedroom window for a fleeting moment before then focusing on Grimsby. You glanced back out at the sea, your shoulders heaving in a silent sigh. You reached into your pocket a drew out your flute, raising it to your lips and playing that same small tune that had been replaying in your mind ever since your rescue.

Knowing that he wasn’t going to get a response, Grimsby let out another sigh and left your side, walking back up to the castle.

You continued playing the sweet melody, but soon enough found it growing out of tune, your breaths becoming uneven. You let out a groan of frustration, rising to your feet on the wall and throwing your arm back, launching the flute into the sea out of sheer frustration at your internal conflict.

You let out a defeated sigh, collapsing back down and burying your head on your hands. You had certainly grown fond of Jace, but there had been such a short amount of time. You didn’t want to rush into things. And then there was that mystery man, the one who had saved you. You were certain he was out there somewhere. And your mind still drifted to the man you’d seen in your dreams, the one who you hadn’t heard speak above a murmur. Could he be the man who saved you? Why else would he inhabit your thoughts?

You shook your head, not wanting to plague your thoughts further, deciding instead to return to the castle to go to the library or your study and read until the sun rose. Rising to your feet, you turned to walk back, but something stopped you.

It started out as a whisper in the breeze, but soon grew louder. It was a very familiar voice singing a very familiar tune.

It was the tune that was sung to you the day you were rescued from drowning.

Like in the trance of a siren song, you returned to your place on the terrace, leaning forward to try and find where the song was coming from, a growing mist surrounding the shore making you squint slightly.

And then you saw a silhouette, tall and slender, emerging from the fog, the voice growing louder and louder until you finally got a clear sight of the source of the song.

It was a man clad in black leather trousers and a black leather overcoat with a white shirt underneath, the top few undone buttons exposing the top half of his chest. A pendant hung from his neck, glowing a faint blue in the moonlight, and he had an eyepatch covering his left eye. His silver hair was tied half up, fluttering in the night breeze.

It was the man from your dreams.

All you did was stare as the man walked down the beach, your eyes wide and your heart hammering in your chest.

He came to a stop directly in front of you, and even from a distance you could see how his lilac eye glittered in the moonlight, how the moon’s glow made his hair look even more silver.

”Good evening, princess,” He greeted. His voice was smooth and held a sort of allure to it. Like a siren’s song.

“Good… good evening,” You replied, your mouth void of saliva and your thoughts swimming. You knew it wasn’t a coincidence that you’d been seeing this man in your dreams, and the thought of him being your mystery saviour had crossed your mind, but you never imagined he’d be standing here right in front you.

“A lovely evening, is it not?”

“I- the sea is a little choppy tonight.”

“Hm, is suppose you are right,” The man replied. “The waves could destroy the greatest of ships indeed.” He mused, his visible eye glittering. “Speaking of, I hope you have since recovered from that ordeal.”

”Yes… I’m fine…” You murmured, clearing your throat. “What is your name?”

“Aemond Targaryen,” He paused. “Prince Aemond Targaryen. And what is your name?”

He couldn’t help the small smirk that tugged at the corner of his lip. He knew your name already. Of course he knew your name.

“Y/N. Princess Y/N L/N.” You replied, mimicking his tone as you stepped down from the terrace and took a step towards the beach.

“Hm,” Aemond let it a small hum of amusement. “You have a lovely kingdom, my princess.”

“Thank you. What kingdom do you reside over.” You asked, taking another step towards Aemond, him doing the same.

“It is one that is far away. Out there, beyond these waters.” Was his response, extending his hand to help you down the steep slope leading down to the beach. His touch was cold, his larger hand holding yours in a tight grip. He did not possess the same warmth as Jace, despite being just as handsome.

“Well perhaps one day I will see it.” You said, making his smirk widen.

“Perhaps.”

You pulled your hand from his, resting it in your pocket. “Well what brings you to these parts?”

Aemond let out a deep exhale. “To escape from everything, I suppose. I have struggled with the concept of me taking the throne. The current ruler of my kingdom… she has grown rather weak. A new ruler is needed and my elder brother is not fit for it, and so that responsibility has befallen me. ‘Twas I who studied history, philosophy, the skills with a sword, all in preparation for that moment, and yet now the moment has come…” He turned away form you, his lilac gaze focusing on the ocean behind him. If you stood in front of him, you would see the smile on the hidden side of his face.

"I understand," You replied, your voice barely a murmur, smothered by the whipping sea winds. "I feel that way too." You hesitated for a moment. "Why did you rescue me that night? How... how did you find me? We were quite a distance from the shore."

"I have always been a rather strong swimmer," He brushed off your enquiries. "I was merely in the area and I saw the ship in flames so I decided to see if there were any survivors. I reached where the ship was by climbing over the rocks lining the shore and then saw you slip beneath the waves unconscious. I couldn't let you die, that much I was certain of, and so I swam out and dragged you to shore."

"Why didn't you take me to Grimsby and the remainder of the crew on the lifeboats?"

"They were gone by the time I had found you."

You nodded. Did you entirely believe the story? You weren't sure. There was something about this stranger that caused a sense of unease within you. He didn't make you feel comfortable like Jace did, instead he was rather unnerving.

All the same, there was something pulling you towards Aemond, like a sailor entranced by a siren. He was a very handsome man, from a royal upbringing. He seemed intelligent and well spoken. A perfect prince, one would say. But that didn't stop the glint in that lilac eye of his. A darkness, or danger, something that set you on edge.

"Well... thank you for saving me. The song you sang to me... it was quite beautiful. Although, I am not familiar with the dialect I heard."

"An ancient language from my homeland. One that is practically extinct. Only those in the royal family use it. A sort of tradition, I suppose."

"Well it sounded very beautiful," You replied, your gaze travelling to the patch of black leather covering his eye.

"You are curious?" He raised an eyebrow.

"I... I did not mean to stare or offend you-"

"You haven't. I wear it around others, as to not frighten them."

"What happened?" You hesitated as he shot you a small smirk.

"Inquisitive, aren't you?" He murmured, letting out a sigh. "When I was a child, I was attacked by someone in my family. It left me disfigured, unable to see out of my eye. And so I wear this to spare others of my wound."

"If they are truly frightened of it, then they are not worthy of looking upon it. It just shows how shallow and self centred people are, when they could instead be looking upon what really matters."

"And what would that be?" He raised an eyebrow, his head tilted to the side. He found your kindness, and the goodness within your heart both amusing and endearing. You saw such hope in the world where he only saw darkness, a darkness that dwelled and festered in his heart.

You may even see good in him.

A shame that was lost the moment his eye was stolen from him.

"You seem intelligent, an attribute that seems to be rarer and rarer to find these days," You replied. "You are well read, you have manners, you seem polite, observant. All admirable qualities to possess."

"I thank you for your kind words, princess," He nodded at you, bowing his head slightly and his hands resting behind his back.

"No. I should be thanking you. I have been trying to search for whoever saved me that day... so I could thank them. I am glad that I can finally do so. I would have died had you not have been there. So I do thank you, I am forever in gratitude to you. If there is anything I could do for you in return... I would be happy to do it..."

You regretted those words as soon as they left your mouth from the way Aemond's lip curved into a smile, one that sent a shudder down your spine. His eye darkened as you spoke, stepping closer to you. Instinctively, you took a step back, only to feel hard rock preventing you from moving further. Your heart was thumping in your chest, your legs feeling as though they could give out from beneath you as he was soon standing so close you could smell him, the scent of the sea lingering on his skin.

And he had you trapped.

Just like in the dream you'd experienced mere hours ago.

"There is something you could do," He murmured, slender fingers tracing up your arm. "A simple favour, if you will."

"And... and what is that?" You whispered. Was he going to touch you as he had done so in your dream? Take advantage of you?

"A kiss," He replied. "Just a simple kiss from you will suffice perfectly." As he spoke he ran his thumb over your lower lip, his other hand resting on your waist. Although cold and firm, his grip was not painful, but you were sure it could be if you rejected his wish.

"I... very well. If that is what you desire." You agreed, your words only making his eye darken. "But in return, I want to see you without your eyepatch."

Aemond tutted. "I didn't realise we were making such demands... but who am I to deny you, ñuha dārilaros. As you wish."

You nodded, meeting his gaze as he leaned forward and captured your lips with his. The kiss was hungry, consuming your every breath, swallowing your every whimper that slipped through your lips as he caught your bottom lip between his teeth, his hands clamped down on your waist, pulling your hips flush against his. Your hands moved to his biceps, gripping the leather, feeling how his muscle tensed beneath your touch.

Aemond pulled away but kept you pressed against him. One hand left your waist to reach up and pull the eyepatch off of him.

Your lips parted slightly as you gazed up at the sapphire glinting in the moonlight. Without realising it, your hand reached up to touch the scar running through his skin above and below his eye, but you faltered, moving to pull it away as you realised what you were doing. Aemond's hand grabbed your own, moving it back to his face, your fingertip tracing over the scar. There was a slight twitch under his eye at the contact, clearly not used to this sort of affectionate attention to his scar.

"I do not see anything frightening." You said, a gentle smile gracing your features.

"You are truly something else, ñuha dārilaros." He murmured, his hold on your waist tightening.

"No. I merely possess kindness that others do not have the privilege of having." You replied, trying to pull away, only for him to keep his hold on you.

"It is late, I should be getting back to the castle to get some rest." You attempted to excuse yourself from your new aquaintance.

"Just a moment," He replied. "I've technically granted you two things. I saved your life, and I showed you my eye. You granted me the courtesy of your kiss, but..." His lip twisted upwards. "You owe me one more thing."

You tried to ignore the pang of dread that struck your heart. "That depends... what did you have in mind?"

Aemond's smirk widened, leaning forward so his lips brushed against your ear, sending a small shudder through you as those two words left his lips.

"Marry me."

Jace awoke the next morning in the brightest of spirits, grabbing his shirt and throwing it over his head as he hurried out of his room and downstairs to greet you for breakfast, momentarily returning to his room to "brush" out a few of the knots in his curls.

Before he had the chance to leave for a second time, Cannibal suddenly came soaring through the open window, letting out a loud squawk as he crash landed on the rather hastily made bed. Scrambling to his feet, he made a series of shrill squawks, frantically waving his wings around and gesturing to a feather on his left wing.

Jace's brows furrowed in visible confusion as the bird continued his erratic gestures, a wing extending to where Jace's left hand hung by his side. He followed Cannibal's gesture to his ring finger, his expression clearing as he understood.

Engagement.

You were announcing an engagement...

...To him?

Had he succeeded?

Jace bolted out of his bedroom door, his heart swelling. He couldn't believe he was going to achieve what he'd always dreamed of- a life in the sun... with you.

The woman that he had found himself falling for ever since he had laid eyes on you.

He heard Grimsby's voice echo down the corridor as he approached the staircase.

"Well, Y/N, it seems I was, er... rather mistaken..."

Jace ducked behind a pillar close to the staircase, not wanting to intrude on the conversation. He peered round and caught sight of you, just about visible from where he was standing. He didn't want to move closer in case he was spotted by you or Grimsby.

"...This mystery man of yours does exist... and he seems very... respectable. Your name, sir?"

That made Jace's blood run cold, but want sent his heart sinking like a wrecked ship was the flash of silver hair as Aemond stepped forward, his voice loud and clear as he told Grimsby his name.

Prince Aemond Targaryen.

"A pleasure. And congratulations to you both." Grimsby politely replied, shaking Aemond's hand. "Now, I'm sure that you will want an announcement to both of your kingdoms in the next few days. And a party of course-"

"We wish to be married as soon as possible," You interrupted Grimsby, your harsh tone making both he and Jace flinch slightly. He had never heard you speak that way to anyone before.

"Oh, yes... of course, Y/N, but, er, but these things do take time, you know..."

"This afternoon," You replied, your voice still retaining that unusual coldness. Jace leaned forward slightly to see better, his jaw clenching slightly as he saw you, clad in a simple dress of sapphire blue, your hair naturally down. In your eyes, there was a slight vacancy, as though you weren't quite in the room. "The wedding ship departs at sunset."

Sunset?

No...

Jace couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. He had you within a fingertips' reach, so close to triumphing over Aemond, but now here his depraved uncle was, wrenching you from him with ease.

"A-as you wish, Y/N..." Grimsby sighed.

Jace couldn't take it anymore, tears welling up in his eyes as he ran back to his room, the door's slam echoing down the corridor. He slid down the door to the floor, bringing his knees up to his chest, letting the tears spill from his eyes.

If only he had stayed a little longer. He may have seen the vice like grip Aemond had on your waist, the way his other hand reached up to touch his dragon glass pendant, which glowed a deep blue beneath his touch, or the way that then made a blue glow cast in your eyes as you rested your head against his chest, the hand that was resting on his pendant moving to hold your hand in his.

But instead he cried, sobs racking through his body.

For himself

For his family.

And for you.

Masterlist

Have your say on who you want the reader to end up with, I'm curious

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[jeysmullet]

「 ✦ jeysmullet ✦ 」 presents

FOREVER YOURS

chapter 2.

Joshua Fatu.

I woke up to the sound of knocking on a door. I went to sit up before feeling the weight of somebody on my arm, i looked beside me seeing Janae still fast asleep. I slowly moved her off of my arm before getting up and walking to the door.

I unlocked it then twisted the handle to allow the door to open. I saw Jon standing there with his hands squeezed into his pockets.

“Wassup,” I spoke before stepping out , not wanting to wake Janae.

“Wassup, Trin wanted me to come tell y’all, that we already ate breakfast. She wanted to know if y’all could ride home together?”

I look back into the room towards Janae before nodding.

“Yeah, i’m sure she’s gonna be fine with it, i’ll ask though.”

“Ight but Josh, you know you not fooling anybody.”

“What you mean?” I chuckled.

“Me and Trin asked Hunter for y’all’s storyline. We knew you were too much of a pussy to do something yourself. We didn’t think he was actually gon do it though. We were shocked when he called us this morning and told us.” Jon spoke while slightly laughing.

“What? Man, y’all crazy.”

“Maybe, but i know you Josh. I know how you look at somebody when you like them. I also see how tense you get when Ya’Mari is around.”

I huffed before rolling my eyes at the mere mention of Janae’s longtime boyfriend.

“My point exactly.” Jon said before holding his hand out to dap me up.

I smacked my hand against Jon’s before speaking once more.

“Bye Jon.”

I watched as Jon walked away before going back into the room and shutting the door.

I walked over to Janae before placing my hand on her shoulder , shaking her slightly.

I saw her eyes flutter before fully opening, looking at me.

“Trinity and Jon already had breakfast, so we gon have breakfast together before we leave.” I spoke as i made sure everything was together in our suitcases.

I saw her in the corner of my eye as she stretched her arms out before standing up.

I let my eyes wander down her body before snapping back to reality.

“I’m gonna freshen up right quick,” Janae spoke softly before grabbing the clothes she had set out before walking to the bathroom, closing the door.

Janae Parker.

I walked into the bathroom, shutting the door, before placing my clothes down. I turned on the sink, placing my cupped hands under the water before bringing my face down and splashing the water onto myself.

I turned the sink off before blindly grabbing a towel, drying my face off. I grabbed my toothbrush out of my toiletry bag, running it under water before placing a thick line of toothpaste on it. I brought the toothbrush to my mouth, brushing my teeth mindlessly.

After 5 minutes, i spit the excess minty paste out of my mouth, before also brushing my tongue, spitting that out as well.

I placed my hands under the faucet once more before bringing the water in my hands towards my mouth. I swished it around for a minute, spitting it out when i felt like I was good.

I wiped around my mouth, placing the towel down, before stripping from my night clothes.

I grabbed the leggings i had brought with me, stepping into them, before grabbing the hoodie and bringing it over my head, placing it on myself. I grabbed my dirty clothes before walking over to the door opening it.

I saw Josh sitting on the bed while tapping away on his phone. I grabbed the bag that i placed my dirty clothes in and placed my other pair of dirty clothes in there.

I grabbed my black and grey jordan 4’s and a pair of socks before sitting on the bed.

i placed my socks on and then slipped in my shoes.

“You ready?” I heard Josh speak up.

“Yeah,” i spoke while standing up from the couch.

Josh grabbed the two suitcases, leaving me with a book bag and my purse.

「 ✦ timeskip ✦ 」

“oh my goddd, i’m so full,” i spoke while laughing.

“I mean you ate four pancakes and 2 smoothies,” Josh laughed.

“Shhh, we don’t speak of that. My trainer will kill me.” I groaned knowing i’m going to have to train extra after breakfast.

“I won’t tell your trainer, if you don’t tell mine,” Josh brought his pinky up.

I giggled before wrapping my pinky around his.

We finally made our way back to the car. I sat in the passengers seat as Josh climbed into the drivers seat.

“You wanna be on aux?” Josh asked me holding the cord.

I nodded grabbing the cord before placing the end into my phone. I swiped onto my music app, turning on one of my playlists. A few seconds passed before the beginning beat of, Lovers and Friends by Usher, started playing.

Me and Josh laughed before we both started singing the song off key.

This continues for multiple songs before one of them was interrupted by my phone ringing.

I stopped singing and looked down seeing my boyfriend’s contact pop up.

“Sorry,” I told Josh before answering the call, still on aux. I might’ve been tweaking but i swear Josh looked upset just now. I ignored it turning my attention back to my phone.

“Wassup Mari,” I smiled while talking to my boyfriend.

“Don’t act all happy now,” I heard Ya’Mari mumble.

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about twitter blowing up with pictures of you with some dude. Is you cheating on me, Janae?”

“What no, that’s Josh. You know Josh,” I softly told him, trying to not escalate the situation.

“I don’t give a fuck if i know him. You making me look fucking stupid.” Ya’Mari raised his voice.

I felt Josh’s eyes burning into the side of my head as we sat at a red light.

“How am i making you look stupid, Ya’Mari? Josh is my sisters brother-in-law. I’ve known him for years.” I said slightly upset.

I felt the car start moving again as the light turned green.

“Why are even alone with him.”

“Because Jon and Trin already left, so we have to ride home together.”

“Nah, you just wanna be a whore.”

I felt myself go forward in my seat as Josh slams on the break.

“Sorry.” Josh mumbles as he slowly starts driving again.

His face had gotten red as hell. Almost like he was mad.

“Ya’Mari, why is you calling me out my name?” My frustration evident.

“Because Janae, you tryna act all innocent but you over here hanging out with a dude by yourself. Shit y’all probably done fucked by now. You know you easy.”

I felt my eyes well up with tears and my throat starting to burn as i try to hold them from falling down.

“Hang up Janae.” Josh spoke firmly from beside me as he pulled into an empty parking lot.

I sat still as i tried to process what Ya’Mari just said.

Josh leaned over and grabbed my phone before ending the call. He placed my phone in the cup holder before pulling me over to him, wrapping his arms around me.

I let the tears fall as i sat in Josh’s arms.

“You don’t need that, Nae. You need to leave him.”

“Bu-“

“No buts, you deserve better than that.”

i just cried more as i thought about what Josh said.

“Hey hey hey, calm down Janae. You need to calm down.” Josh stroked my hair as he hugged me tighter.

I took deep breathes as i tried to focus on something else. The first thing i noticed was Josh’s heartbeat and his breathing.

I listened to his breathing and tried to match it. I did that for 5 minutes and eventually calmed down.

“Here take a nap until we get there.” Josh said as he slowly let me go.

I wiped my eyes as i laid back into the seat, before closing my eyes.

「 ✦ timeskip ✦ 」

Joshua Fatu.

I pulled into the driveway of Janae’s house. I sighed knowing i’m gonna have to wake her up.

I reached beside me and slowly shook her awake.

“Nae, we’re here.”

Her eyes fluttered open before she stretched. We both unbuckled our seatbelts before opening the doors of the car.

I walked to the trunk, opening it, grabbing her bags. I walked up to where she was standing and waited on her to open the door. She unlocked the door and walked in before holding the door open for me.

“You can just leave em downstairs. I’ll take em up later.” She told me before plopping down on the couch.

I stood there for a minute.

“Well uhm, i’ll see you later Nae. Call me if you get upset again.”

I was reaching for the door before she called my name.

“Uhm Josh, can you actually stay?”

I looked at her somewhat shocked.

“uh yeah, of course. if that’s what you want.”

I walked over to the couch sitting down beside her. I fell as she placed her head on my lap.

“Thank you.” She sleepily spoke before falling back asleep.

I smiled down at her.

“You’re welcome.”

「 ✦ the end ✦ 」

SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG.

tags: @secret89sblog @trashbin-nie @ethicbratt @blacst4r @bebesobrielo @wrestlingprincess80 @solefae @reci1996 @paigereeder @yana3sworld @nbanenefrmdao

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[hushed-chorus]

Hi folks! And omg I'm exhausted. Still recovering from @erzbethluna's trip to Britain. Which was amazing, btw. We had such a wonderful time and I will treasure the memories forever. I've got some cute photos to share in the near future.

Currently I'm curled up on the sofa rewatching Umbrella Academy. But soon I will muster the energy to finalise chapter 9 of Those Glowing, Magickal Years - the last chapter of the Year 2 arch. The whole chapter will be Baz's POV because lots of Baz shit is going down.

Here's a snippet of Baz talking to Fiona.

I don’t look up when I answer. “You don’t get it. Hunting for animals is hard. What if I…” I glance up, ashamed of what I’m about to say, but she’s not even looking at me. Fury straightens my back. “See? You can’t even hear me talk about it. The Mage listens. When I have questions, he looks for answers. Am I meant to just fumble around blindly, hoping it will all work out fine?” “Basil.” “That’s dangerous, Fiona! I could kill–” “Alright!” I flinch. She’s staring at me, and it’s a fighting look.  “I’ve…” She shakes her head, lifts yet another cigarette to her lips and lights it with a flick of her fingers. Her next words ride forth on a wave of smoke. “I can get you answers.” “What?” “Better answers than he could ever get you. From another like you. You can talk to him, then you won’t need to confide in the Mage.” “A vampire?” She suppresses the wince, but her jaw tightens as she nods. She pulls out her phone. “I’ll arrange a meeting.”

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[tmntartblock]

TMNT LEOSAGI AU

FIND ME IN THE FUTURE

Chapter 2: Finding the truth

previous chapter | next chapter

After some weeks, after the physical scars had started to heal, Gen, the old friend of Usagi, came to visit unexpectedly. Gen had been part of Usagi’s military but left after disobeying the leaders. Leo had met him only once when he had just left and had the military after him.

“Gen… What are you doing here?” Leo asked. Hope raised in him. Was Gen here to tell that Usagi was safe and everything was just a horrible nightmare?

“Do you have that Earth leaf juice? I need that stuff before I have to flee again. The army is too active on this planet to stay long.”

“You mean tea? Uh, yeah sure”, Leo said and went to put the kettle on. Finally, after pouring everybody a cup, Gen opened his mouth.

“I’ve heard rumours of a prisoner bunny here on Earth. Is that true?”

“Prisoner bunny?” Leo stood from his chair, staring Gen, afraid of what the rhino might say next. Heart was pounding painfully in his chest. Prisoner bunny could only mean-

“I only know of one bunny who visits this Earth”, Gen said, eyeing the turtles that looked all shaken up, except Mikey, who was more focused on devouring his cheerios.

“You mean that backstabber Usagi?” Raph spitted, anger raising in his voice. “He betrayed us with some Foot ninjas couple of weeks ago and left us to die.”

“What? That doesn’t sound like Usagi”, Gen said and emptied his cup.

“I guess you can’t really trust anyone nowadays.”

“He… He sold us out”, Mikey said, voice quiet, trying to make the words hurt less. “Just like that.”

“There was clearly something going on. He said he was not going back to the Realm”, Leo said.

“Maybe they got him”, Gen said. “It was dangerous for him to come here out of all places. They knew where to look for him if he actually decided to leave.”

“So… you are saying he did not betray us?” Donnie asked.

“I can not be for certain. All I know escaping that hellscape is not an easy task and you have to run for the rest of your life. Not stay with your boyfriend.” Gen gave Leo a pitiful look.

“It’s not Leo’s fault that he’s ex is an idiot”, Raph spitted. Leo looked at him angrily. Raph meant good but it hurt that everybody had just accepted that Usagi was a backstabber and it was jus the truth that he didn’t care about Leo.

“Look. My intels told me that there is a bunny, held captive on Earth. That’s all I know and I wished that you would have more information but you clearly don’t. The Realm is breathing on my neck more than in years and I have to look out for myself.” Gen got up. “Thank you for the leaf juice.”

“Thank you for telling us even if it risked your life, Gen”, Donnie said.

“I still care about my friend even though we did not separate in best terms”, Gen stated, melancholy in his voice. “I can’t wait for the day that the Realm falls finally and we all will be free. Good bye.”

Gen created a portal and disappeared, probably as far as possible. Leo had no time to feel bad for the rhino because all he could think about was that the worst betrayal of his life might not be true at all. He hadn’t sleep for weeks. He had felt anger, shame, sadness, everything in a rollercoaster and all at once. Questioning all the love that he had so blindly felt. And now all those feelings were insignificant. Usagi was probably captured. Being tortured. Weeks of the anger turned to shame. How he could have believed such things of Usagi. Leo knew him better. Leo knew how honourable, how loyal and caring he was. And that one moment let him threw out all of that.

Leo felt hesitant. He remembered how Usagi had looked at him. Directly into his eyes. There had not been any fear, no hesitation. Leo was hurt and Usagi did nothing to help. Maybe Leo had read the whole situation wrong.

He had made a mistake. Why hadn’t he gone after him immediately?

“Leonardo. What are you going to do?” master Splinter asked with his husky voice. He had stayed on the side, like he nowadays did most of the times. Time had done its work and master Splinter had grown weaker. He only could stand ten minutes at the time without shaking.

“I will fix this”, Leo said and looked at his father with determination. Weeks of hopelessness turned into new purpose. “I will start my search in New York.”

“You can’t just leave us for your own little missions!” Raph yelled and pushed Leo’s shoulder. “Foot ninjas could attack any time!”

“You basically demolished them, Raph. They are not coming back any time soon. They don’t have a leader. You made sure of that.” Why Raph always wanted to push him back?

“You don’t know how fast they can reorganize themselves again. You’ve seen they don’t go down easy.”

“I have to do this Raph. I have to safe Usagi. Don’t do this any harder than it already is.”

“He left. Willingly. You saw it. Gen is full of shit.”

“Gen said that there are rumours of a bunny prisoner held hostage on Earth. Who else could it be?”

That shutted up Raph, for now.

Leo started to attack the scattered Foot ninjas, trying to get any information out of them but nobody seemed to know anything about a bunny prisoner even a sword on their throat.

After weeks of inspection, Leo came to the conclusion that Usagi was not in New York. The only other option seemed to be going to Japan, to Tokyo. Raph was not happy, he yelled at Leo for being irresponsible. Leo couldn’t give a damn about Raph’s opinion: Raph didn’t know what real responsibility was. He had never had to make the tough calls and gave bullshit for Leo for doing so. Master Splinter didn’t seem happy either. But for years now he had chosen to give advice to only when asked for it, so his words meant nothing now. The responsibility of the family was put on Leo and he was going to use it. Wether others liked it or not.

It wasn’t easy to leave them all on their own. The last time he had done it, he had to rush back to ruins, thinking that he’s brothers were dead. But his brothers were competent. They’d survive. The Foot was no threat anymore and Donnie had a good surveillance system. The family was safe. With these thoughts he packed a little bag and left, unsure of when he would return. He only knew he could not return without Usagi.

Leo had always wished to visit Japan but this way wasn’t the most pleasant. Tokyo was huge, full of possibilities and dangers. With his elementary level Japanese Leo barely survived and he had no help to gather any information about anything so he had to go in places cold turkey. That meant the stakes were higher, the risk of dying being more imminent than ever.

But Leo knew that he could not give up. Somebody had to know something. Leo attacked ninjas, trying to gather any valuable clues but again, nobody knew anything. He infiltrated the headquarters, searched every single prisoner cell but nothing. He wanted to give up. To go home to his family. But he couldn’t. Fear of failure burned through his veins.

Finally, after months and months of constant attacks from Leo, the head of the Japan Foot clan quelled after a fight and told that they had a deal to help transfer a bunny through a portal. They had forced Usagi to make a deal. Leo tried his best not to have the anger overconsume his senses. The blade of his katana was shaking on the neck of the leader.

“Does that ease your mind, reptilian? His freedom for your life.”

It did, for a second. But that meant Leo had been wrong and it may had costed Usagi’s life.

That’s it. There was no other information. They did not know anything else, the Foot didn’t ask questions for that good amount of money. Leo believed.

Leo went back home, defeated. Usagi was not anywhere on this planet.

The return was difficult. Everyone tried to act like he had not disappeared for months. Leo tried to cover his anger. He tried to act normal. Listen to Mikey’s rampant about his new comic book idea. Sit next to Donnie and hand him over screwdrivers and metal pieces. Let Raph use him as a punching back. But nothing took away the pain.

Disappointment was eating him alive and the only thought consuming his brain was that Usagi was not on Earth.

Usagi was not on Earth.

Usagi was not on Earth.

And there was nothing he could do about it.

previous chapter | next chapter

[wil-o-wispy]

The Wife, the Lover and the Bastard Son - Part 5

Pairing: Chris Redfield x FEM!Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 (You are here)

Summary: The more hours that pass, the closer he is to finding you.

Content: Canon typical violence/swearing, descriptions of blood, more reader lore drops, references to RE5, brief mentions of vomiting from seasickness, mostly next chapter setup but there's some juiciness in here, brief description of banging a head against a wall. Reader is referred to as 'Doc' and is the wife of (dead?) Albert Wesker and is a former Umbrella scientist.

a/n: That took longer than I thought but here it is. Once again, I appreciate you and thank you for reading!

w/c: 9.4k

It felt like you were running for an eternity after you witnessed Albert breaking out of his experimental confines. You didn’t look back. You didn’t have a plan. You didn’t even think on where to go next. Your only goal was to get as far away from Albert as physically possible.

Years of suppressed trauma from the day Albert died rears its ugly head and everything floods back to you in one overwhelming emotional wave that feeds your adrenaline and keeps your feet moving one in front of the other. Fear. Confusion. Anger. Devastation. Fear. You keep having to wipe away the tears that won’t stop leaking out of your eyes, trying in vain to keep your vision clear as you blindly wind your way through the facility.

But adrenaline highs eventually run out even if paralyzing fear is still present.

Your legs cramp. Your lungs scream for something more than just short puffs of air. Your heart works overtime from the strain of the situation and beats so fast it hurts and black dots the edges of your vision. Blood pumps through your veins so quickly that you can hear it in your ears so you can’t focus on anything else.

The moment you need to place your hand on the wall to keep yourself from collapsing is the second you decide to open whatever door is closest and hide out in whatever room is on the other side of it.

You’ve managed to run from the inner sanctum of the new lab all the way to an older, non-refurbished part. Is this the old lab? What used to be part of the military base? You can’t tell and you don’t care. You push open the door and sink to the floor as soon as you shut it again, trying to gulp some air into your lungs so you don’t keel over and pass out. As you try to slow down your breathing and collect yourself, only one thought is going through your mind.

This isn’t fucking happening he’s supposed to be dead.

There’s a sound that makes you jolt upright and whip your head to the edge of the room.

Whoever was here previously left in a hurry. There are loose DVD’s, clear DVD cases, and cases with DVD’s still in them scattered all over the desk in the back while a projector idly flickers against a white screen against the adjacent wall. The noise is coming from behind the projector.

You cautiously get up from the floor and make your way over to it, still wobbly on your feet but able to keep yourself from toppling over and discover the source of the whirring: a DVD player. The disk holder is trying to retract into the machine, but the machine is askew and miscellaneous office junk is preventing it from closing properly. There’s a date written in Sharpie on the disk: March 19, 2006. The day Albert died.

A note with an official looking letterhead sits next to the machine, partially crumpled up. You pick it up, unfold it, and read its contents.

RE: Wesker Collection: Africa Tanker July 2002 – March 2006.

To Our Most Esteemed Client,

We thank you for entrusting us with this extensive recovery project involving the late Albert Wesker and his surviving wife. It has truly been an honor to observe the infamous scientist in his private life while carrying out these services.

We are happy to report that 93% of the recovered footage provided from the Africa tanker was able to be upgraded to your UHD specifications, as well as remove the most glaring audio anomalies for improved sound quality. Please see the attached inventory sheet for a full breakdown. The full transcripts will become available in the coming weeks as previously discussed.

I would humbly encourage you to reconsider my suggestion regarding upgrading the remaining footage archive. There is much to be learned from his methods in creating the Uroboros virus as well as advancing the gestation of the Plaga parasite. Should you change your mind, we would be elated to welcome you back as a client.

You feel a gentle numbness come over you as you read the note. The DVD player whirs again. Your eyes flick over to it. You absentmindedly put down the paper, reposition the DVD player so it sits properly, and move the junk that’s preventing the disk compartment from closing. The little door finally closes with a soft tapping noise, and the DVD inside it whirs until it emits a soft hum.

The image flickers to life on the projector and you feel a lump in your throat. You recognize the room. It’s CCTV footage a captain’s quarters space with a metal chair in the center with straps to constrain an unlucky subject to it at the wrists, arms, and chest. On the screen, two distant voices outside the room are arguing: a man and a woman. As the voices get closer to the room, you recognize the sound of your own voice even before Albert kicks the door open and drags you into the room by your forearm while you struggle in vain against his grip.

“I’m not like you!” You retort defiantly.

“But you are my dear, in more ways than you care to admit.” Albert replies, clearly getting impatient with how you’re acting.

“Like hell I am! Statistically, I’m gonna end up like any other one of your test subjects!”

“Don’t you dare compare yourself to those weaklings!” Albert spits, incensed at your response and abruptly forcing you in front of him so his angered expression is up close to your nervous one. Albert breathes heavily for a moment, then speaks in a colder, more pragmatic tone that is expected of him.

“You will evolve beyond your limits, and you will thank me for it.”

You watch Albert force you into the chair despite your continued protests. You watch as he straps your wrists to the arms of the chair and your torso to the back of it so quickly that the video appears to buffer on Albert’s main movements while you fail to struggle against him. You know it’s not the video. He was just that fast. You continue to struggle even after Albert takes a step back with an angered look.

“I have a rendezvous with an old colleague that I can’t afford to miss, but when I return-” You watch Albert roughly grasp your chin and turn your face to look up at him and you freeze. Albert’s voice turns into a deadly, low tone.

“I want a satisfactory answer out of you.”

After staring you down for a moment, he releases your chin and walks to the door, intending to close it. You watch him go with a defeated look.

“Please don’t do this.” You beg with a small voice.

You see Albert pause at the door and sigh with his back to the camera. He doesn’t turn to look at you. “It’s happening with or without your participation my dear. I suggest you be in good company when my New World emerges from the embers of humanity.”

Albert slams the door and you jump in your seat. A lock engages, then heavy footsteps quickly get further and further away. Once it’s quiet again, you immediately resume your attempts to wiggle out of the chair.

With no warning, the footage erupts into pixelated static, a slideshow of random frames you can barely make out, then it finally cuts to you later, still strapped to the chair in that room, and screaming at the top of your lungs.

“HELLO? I’M IN HERE! GET ME THE FUCK OUT OF THIS THING!” Your voice is strained from shouting and thick from crying. You remember the ship rocking from side to side so precariously that you thought it was going to flip over and you’d drown in that room. There’s methodical, forceful banging on the door and you can see it straining from the force of your rescuers on the other side of it.

In the real world, you hear heavy footsteps stomping towards the room you’re in and you’re suddenly very aware of how loud the projector is. Whoever heard already knows you’re here, so you just grab the closest thing to a weapon you see, which happens to be a stapler, and crawl under the desk and pull your knees to your chest. All the while, you hear yourself keep screaming for help on the projector.

A moment later, the door to the projector room flies open with so much force that you hear it slam against the wall followed by quick and heavy footsteps rushing into the room.

At the same time on the screen, you hear the door to that room finally break open, and Chris’ words trying to comfort you as Sheva and him undo your binds. Their chorus of ‘It’s okay’s’ and ‘you’re alright’s’ are ignored by you, and you get straight to business as usual, albeit with a rattled voice.

“What was that? Why was everything shaking?”

You can’t see the screen, but you know Sheva and Chris are looking at each other. Sheva finally answers.

“Excella was rejected by Uroboros.”

You’re silent for a moment on the projector. “… I tried to warn her.”

You hear yourself struggling to get to your feet, your seasickness coming back at full force as you struggle to walk in a straight line and you hear Chris grab your arm to steady you.

“Careful!” Chris says with a worried tone.

“Forget about me! We have to hurry we’re running out of time!” Your voice is strained like you’re about to vomit and you hear yourself quickly stumble out of the room while Chris and Sheva hurry after you.

The three sets of voices retreat from the room on the screen and the projector grows silent.

In the newfound silence of the room, you realize your breathing is much too loud so you cover your mouth to silence yourself.

But it’s too late for that.

You hear the footsteps stealthily approach closer.

And closer.

And closer.

You sense the presence stop right outside of your range of vision under the desk.

Albert found you. This is the end.

You yelp in surprise and raise the stapler to bludgeon whatever just discovered your hiding spot, but you freeze like a deer in headlights when you see Jake with his pistol raised.

For a moment, he just stares at you while you try in vain to steady your staccato breathing. You know you look like a mess. Tears streak your terrified face, hair sticks out in every direction, and most notably, there are blood splatters that stain your clothes.

“Doc? Jesus what happened to you?”

Jake holsters his gun and brushes your arms out of the way. He looks closely at your clothes, looking for entry points for injuries.

“It okay it’s… it’s not mine. I-I just can’t get a grip.” Your voice is hoarse and strained. No matter how hard you try you can’t seem to slow your breathing enough to even think about calming down.

Jake stops looking for injuries and directs his icy gaze to your tearful expression. “What happened?”

“He’s-” You take in a deep and shaky breath, “-he’s alive b-but he’s… he’s not himself and I… I don’t know if that’s better or worse-”

“Doc. Take a breath. Who’s alive?” Jake is trying to be the voice of reason in your panicked state, but his tone has an edge of seriousness to it.

“Wesker! These people excavated his fucking corpse and decided it was a genius idea to reanimate him. That director guy took me to the chamber, then he woke up and there was carnage when he heard my voice and… and…I can’t… I can’t do this again Jake!”

You slam down the stapler onto the ground and you put your head in your hands trying to get some sense of comfort. You mumble in your hands, still not wanting to believe your new set of circumstances.

“Why do people keep doing this? This kind of shit never ends well. You’d think people would learn but they just don’t.”

It never ends. People will always think they’re smarter than their predecessors.

Your head is pounding behind your eyes so you move a few fingers to pinch the bridge of your nose for some relief.

“What do you mean?”

You blink. Your hands retreat from your face and your eyes slowly move to Jake’s. “What?”

“You said you couldn’t do this again, what do you mean?”

Right. You did say that. You take a deep breath and finally muster up enough composure to answer.

“I… it’s a long story but to make it brief, I was the one who blew the whistle on the Uroboros project.”

Jake’s serious expression doesn’t change. You look at your hands.

“I finally realized how apocalyptic the project really was and I needed to tell someone. By a stroke of dumb luck I managed to get a B.S.A.A. radio and alert the African division.”

You feel your eyes growing hot again and you blink away the heat.

“Two agents were able to get to me about two weeks later and I told them how to kill him.”

You take another deep breath and continue.

“I told you earlier he needed regular doses of the virus to keep it stable. I knew that giving him too much would cause adverse effects. Or at least slow him down enough so the B.S.A.A. could put him down.”

You swallow the lump in your throat.

“So I showed them where he kept the extra doses. And then I showed them where the virus warheads were.”

You close your eyes and lean your head back against the underside of the desk. Jake doesn’t need to know the rest. He doesn’t need to know that Chris noticed how sickly and scared you were and put his hand on your shoulder to comfort you. He doesn’t need to know that Albert saw his nemesis touching his wife and was seething with barely contained rage because of it. He doesn’t need to know how your heart got caught in your throat when you felt Albert’s inhumanly strong arms wrap around your waist, your body move dizzyingly fast, and before you realized what had even happened, he had your back to his chest and his hand wrapped menacingly tight around your throat as he growled in your ear.

“It’s in your best interest to listen to me dearheart. We wouldn’t want any accidents to happen in front of our guests, would we?”

Jake doesn’t need to know that everything in your body betrayed you at that moment. You should have screamed, you should have thrashed, you should have done quite literally anything to try to escape his grip as futile as it would have been. But you didn’t. Jake doesn’t need to know that you’d seen Albert angry a handful of times but this was the first time you felt that he could actually kill you for going against his wishes. It wouldn’t do anyone any good if he knew it was a thinly veiled threat at best, but it was more than enough to rob you of your voice, freeze in place, and cause tears to prick at the corners of your eyes, just like today.

You don’t tell Jake any of this, but he seems to understand the subtext of your words perfectly anyway. When you feel confident you’re not going to burst into tears again, you look back at Jake.

“Albert saw. He knows what I did. He’s going to kill me for betraying him.”

Silence weighs over the two of you like a thick fog, choking any semblance of hope in the haze of reality.  You sit there wallowing in the harsh reality of your words. You knew in your soul that it was the truth, but it feels so much more real when you hypothesize Albert’s intentions with you out loud. Jake is silent, the wheels turning in his head on what he should say.

“That was a long time ago you can’t know that for sure.”

“He’s not the forgiving type, Jake. He never was.”

You hear a distant clang, and something you could have sworn was a monstrous roar from the direction of where you last saw Albert outside of the room. You freeze. Jake glances outside of your hiding place, then back to you, now aware of how distressed you actually are. Jake holds out his hand to you. He gestures you to come out.

“C’mon. I found someplace safe we can hide out for a while.” He whispers in a confident tone.

You don’t look at him. Your eyes are trained on the open door to the room.

Would Albert inject you with a virus first? Terrorize you? Gloat? Kill you outright?

“Doc, we have to go. You can’t stay here, it’s not secure.”

The ‘not secure’ comment breaks through to you, and you turn your head away from the hallway to nod up at Jake. You let him help you to your feet.

It takes much longer than you would have liked to get to the safe place even though it’s only a few hallways past the room you ran into. You freeze at nearly every distant noise, but Jake is surprisingly patient with you. He gives you incentivizing but firm words to keep your feet moving, occasionally putting his hand on your back to encourage you to keep going.

The ‘safe room’ ends up being a hybrid communications room. One part is dedicated to running the security cameras with over a dozen different monitors flickering to different parts of the facility with an intercom system attached to it. Another computer system close by it has a complex-looking computer system with a microphone attached to it. Yet another part is made up of a large console for computers and a hodgepodge conglomerate of tech for listening to and watching different sorts of media, some storage boxes, as well as a professional assortment of radio equipment. Jake sees your eyes light up upon seeing the radio setup, then shakes his head with a serious expression.

“Don’t get your hopes up yet. It’s busted.”

Your shoulders slump.

“… great.” You utter quietly. You drag your feet over to a table overflowing with scattered papers, a pair of headphones and a personal computer on it, and slump into a chair.

“Hey, we’re not out of options yet. We’ve still got this thing.” Jake says optimistically, lightly smacking his hand on the control panel of the large computer system with the microphone. “All it needs is a key card with enough clearance.”

You sigh, wanting the computer route to work out but also trying not to get too invested in the idea if it doesn’t. “Try this.” You mutter, pulling out Youju’s white keycard and holding it out to Jake. The blood on it has dried to a sickly brown color and has a faint coppery smell. Jake takes it with an eyebrow raised.

You shrug. “It was Youju’s. He won’t miss it.”

“…. I’m sure he won’t. Give me a couple minutes.”

Jake heads over to the computer and you hold your head in your hands, leaning over the table on your elbows trying to process everything that’s just happened.

Albert’s alive.

You destroyed the only Uroboros sample on this godforsaken island.

You’re willing to bet the military part of the facility isn’t stocked up on a convenient rocket launcher to get you out of this mess.

You aren’t one to wallow in self-pity but given the unthinkable circumstances, you can’t help but feel like you’ve already been backed into a corner that you have no hope of escaping.

You take another deep breath and stare absentmindedly at the papers on the table. You weren’t particularly looking for anything, but you can’t help but notice the format of the documents in front of you. All of them are audio transcripts. One of them catches your eye with its title in bold letters at the top of the page. The heading reads WESKER/GIONNE UROBOROS MEETING– JANUARY 18, 2006. A few inches below it, there’s a handwritten note in the right margin: No good. Audio too distorted and she doesn’t say anything we can use. Positive depictions of the wife only.

Positive depictions of you only? That piques your interest.

You think back to what Youju said before you woke Albert up. We’ve tried recordings of your voice and they’ve yielded positive results but not the ones we’re looking for.

You turn your attention to the computer, then eye the headphones. You dig for the mouse under the mountain of papers and wiggle it when you finally find it. The computer monitor hums to life, already logged in. On the screen, there’s a video file already pulled up of the meeting.

Out of curiosity, you put on the headphones and hit play. As the audio recording runs, you alternate between looking at the transcript and watching the footage.

The footage plays and you see a board room with a presentation on a projector. The angle is from above the projector so you can’t see what’s on the screen, but you have a good view of you and Albert sitting on opposite sides of a conference table with a cloaked figure standing not too far from you.

Jill. She deserved a better chance than you to rescue her from hell.

You recognize Excella’s thick Italian accent before you can even see her come into view. You can’t really hear everything Excella is saying due to her being in such close proximity to the camera microphone, but you recognize choice words throughout her presentation.

Tanker.

Uroboros.

Transport.

Warheads.

You remember this presentation. Excella was talking about transport protocols for Uroboros leading up to the actual virus release. Albert insisted on your attendance. While you never gave verbal feedback on his experiments at this time, you eventually figured out that Albert would carefully watch your facial expressions and body language to get your thoughts instead. You perfected your stone-faced expression out of necessity in not accidentally contributing to his plans. You watch yourself paying rapt attention. You have to give yourself credit, your poker face looks good here even though you know you were scared out of your mind. It was finally sinking into your head that the world would end if you didn’t do something to intervene.

While you’re lost in your thoughts, Excella finally finishes her speech and sultrily saunters behind Albert’s chair. Now that Excella is farther away from the microphone, it’s picking up the rest of the audio in the room much better. Even so, the audio still sounds grainy.

“Albert?” Excella croons, putting her hands on Albert’s shoulders and lightly rubbing them. She leans down close to his ear.

“Do you have any contributing thoughts?”

Albert doesn’t even look at Excella. Instead, his sunglasses adorned face turns to you sitting across the table. “I’d like to hear what my wife thinks of this contingency plan of yours.”

Excella’s mouth morphs into a thin line and she straightens her posture, not happy about that request but not saying anything to refute it. She puts on a fake smile but doesn’t take her hands off of Albert’s shoulders. “Of course.”

You don’t look at him. You only stare blankly at the presentation on the projector. You can’t tell from your body language, but you know that in this moment you were already thinking of ways to combat the Uroboros plan. But you also knew that voicing your honest thoughts would throw a wrench in any plan you would make in the future.

“Excella has already outlined the important details and caveats. I have nothing else to add.” You reply politely. Even through the slight graininess of the footage, your stiff posture and unwillingness to look in Albert and Excella’s direction are very noticeable.

Albert grunts with a nearly imperceptible frown, not satisfied with the answer. Or with the fact that you’re refusing to look in his direction. “Very well, but I still want your thoughts on the project.”

“You already have the project in good hands. End of thought.” You finally turn your head away from the screen and gesture to Excella with a neutral expression.

You knew that Excella wanted Albert, but you were almost certain that he didn’t want her. He only mentioned her in passing in whatever limited conversation he had with you, but there was always an underlying message in his choice of words that he thought she was beneath him. A pretty face with brains, a bankroll and resources behind it, but too caught up in wanting to be recognized as a legitimate member of her prestigious family and not having enough self-awareness to know she was in partnership with a viper in the grass that would discard her when it became convenient. You were almost certain because even though you knew this, he never pushed her off or rejected her advances in front of you.

“I feel tired. I’m turning in early.” You get up from your seat and briskly walk to the door.

It would have been easy to miss if you didn’t know Albert’s mannerisms so well, but you see him let out a sharp breath through his nose. He’s miffed by your response. He knew you were growing more distant by the day. He knew you didn’t like his plan. He knew you were slipping through his fingers like grains of sand that he methodically kept trying to contain by constricting his grip even more heavy handedly than he did before.

Any other interaction like this behind closed doors would have progressed to him subtly forcing his proximity to you; following you out like a suffocating shadow and pulling your attention to any mundane conversation that would ultimately lead to him explaining himself with yet another angle that didn’t justify his end goals in the slightest with the intention of you at least understanding why he thought this was the only viable course of action. Saving the known world is an admirable adventure in a number of epics old and new. But saving the world by starting anew? A new world with superhumans could never be justified by sacrificing billions of lives.

On any other day he would have followed you.

Instead, Albert is forced to save face in front of his suffocating business partner.

“Escort her to the suite.” Albert orders the cloaked figure, which follows you right on your heels. His tone is short. Controlled.

As soon as the door shuts behind you, Albert raises from his seat and shrugs off Excella’s wandering hands. Excella has an annoyed look on her face for a moment, but quickly covers it up with an alluring smile.

“You hear that, Albert? The project is in good hands.”

Albert doesn’t even bother to look at her. He only prowls to the front of the projector clasps his hands behind his back. A map of South Africa is reflected in his sunglasses. “Then ensure it stays that way. I won’t tolerate any further delays or incompetence,” Albert replies in a cold tone.

The video ends.

You pull off the headphones with a scowl on your face. The son of a bitch was trying to make you jealous on purpose.

Despite your annoyance, your eyes keep drifting back to the note in the margin. Positive depictions only.

If this one was rejected, then what do the accepted ones have you saying?

You begin looking more closely at the scattered papers.

It appears that Neo Umbrella was only working from security footage that was obtained from the Africa tanker. It’s not surprising they weren’t able to find a lot of usable audio from you. You were falling out of love and didn’t have a lot of sweet things to say to your husband. Even with that in mind, you’re surprised at how little they were able to scrape together with the gargantuan amount of media they had to work with. You knew Albert liked his cameras, but you didn’t know he kept footage of you that was this extensive.

From what you can see from the transcripts, the only ‘useful’ audio was you calling Albert one of the few pet names he liked hearing; dear, darling and love, sometimes with a ‘my’ thrown in there. Albert insisted that other terms of endearment sounded too casual, although in the early days of your marriage you’d call him increasingly ridiculous nicknames until he’d put you in your place in a way that left you both shaking and satisfied. There was a time where he liked it when you challenged him. Not just on the domestic front, but in the Umbrella labs. You weren’t afraid to tell him he was wrong or that there were more efficient methods of doing things. Sometimes you were right. Other times, Albert proved you wrong. Even with the latter, Albert would always at least listen to your input since he saw you as someone who was worth listening to.

Among the other transcripts, strangely enough, there was a fifteen page document of you reading plaga laboratory results to Albert. This was a routine occurrence. It wasn’t uncommon for Albert to ask you to read things like that aloud to help him think or as a way to review previously explored experiments before diving into new ones. It was a small ask in your eyes and it was a good way to stay informed on what Albert was doing, so you didn’t object unless you felt too seasick. What surprised you was how positive the margin notes were: Yes! She sounds interested and engaged. Find more of this to put in the rotation.

Talk about desperate for something other than curt politeness and apathy when talking to your husband. Nearly every other transcript has less satisfactory notes:

Wife too combative. Exclude from rotation.

She sounds too demanding. Discard.

This one has Gionne talking over the wife. EXCLUDE the audio if Gionne is present in future selections.

Too disinterested, but keep on file just in case.

They’re fighting again in this one. Do not use.

Can’t you read? Wesker clearly didn’t respect Gionne stop giving the lab team audio of her flirting with him.

“Doc, we’re in business!” Jake’s victorious exclamation pulls you out of your investigation.

You whip your head over to the monitor Jake was working on and to your delighted surprise, instead of the Neo Umbrella logo, you see a landing page with a number pad.

“What does it need? Radio frequency? Phone number?” You ask intensely, shooting up from your chair and standing behind his to look at the screen.

“Phone number unfortunately. The radio stuff is out as well.”

You blink, unsure why he made that sound like a problem. “Do you not have number you can call in your phone? Like your captain?”

Jake’s facial expression turns something close to sheepish.

“I lost it. Let’s keep it at that.”

You look at him blankly. Do people these days not memorize important numbers like that?

“… I know who we can call.” You mutter, shooing Jake out of the seat so you can type it in and speak easily into the microphone. You’re not sure if he’ll pick up, but he’s your best bet.

For a moment, you hold your breath hearing the dial tone come in over the speakers. Is he on a mission? Asleep halfway around the world? Stuck in a never-ending cycle of training exercises?

A gruff, annoyed voice that makes you weak at the knees finally answers on the last ring. A crowd of voices can be heard in the background. “Hello? You’ve reached Captain Redfield.”

“Chris, it’s Doc.” You breathe a sigh of relief. Even though it’s just Chris’ voice, you already feel a little better knowing rescue will imminently be on its way.

“Doc?” Chris’ tone immediately shifts to a relieved one as sounds of rummaging erupt on his end of the call. “Are you alright? Do you know where you are?”

“Well… debatable considering the circumstances and somewhere in the Pacific. Jake Muller has more info on that.”

The rummaging abruptly stops. “Wait, Jake’s with you?”

“Right here Redfield.” Jake says nonchalantly. However, you notice a sliver of something in his tone but you can’t place what it is. You have a feeling Jake isn’t on the best terms with Chris considering his role in Wesker’s death at the mansion. Second death at the Spencer Estate? Third death in the volcano? Does the third one even count at this point?

“Yep. We’ve already been introduced. He’s got an interesting history with the B.S.A.A. I’m shocked we weren’t introduced sooner since we’re both consulting.” There’s an underlying message of I know who Jake is and you’ve got some damn explaining to do in your words, but now is not the time to read Chris the riot act.

You hear Chris sigh on the other end of the line. “Well Doc I tried calling, but you’re a hard woman to reach.” Chris doesn’t sound accusatory. Just… stung. You feel your face heat up at that. You had been dodging his calls ever since that intimate moment in your kitchen a year ago. However, any guilt you feel is overshadowed by frustration in not being informed about Jake until today.

“You could have given me a little context and I would have made the time.” You reply through your teeth. Jake gives you a weird look as you’re leading this exchange. He silently points between the microphone and you, then holds his hand up in a ‘what’s that about’ gesture. You mouth back ‘long story’ as Chris ignores your comment starts addressing Jake. “Jake, your orders were to find the location of the G-sample.”

“I’ve done that boyscout.”

You hear Chris huff in annoyance. “Your orders were to find the location of the sample and not leave the mainland.”

“Well… when opportunity arises, I take it.”

“Do you have it?”

“… still workin’ on that.” Jake replies with a sour expression. You jump in.

“Chris, we’ve got bigger problems than the sample. Albert’s alive.” The words feel wrong coming out of your mouth, but you have to let any personnel know what danger is waiting for them.

Silence. Even the hum of the people in the background grows quiet. For a moment, you’re worried the call may have dropped from the old machinery.

“Did you hear me? Say something.”

“Heard you loud and clear. What’s his status compared to when we saw him last?” Besides sounding more serious, Chris doesn’t even seem phased. He’s in soldier mode: Know the enemy. Come up with a plan. Rescue the hostages.

“Physically, very similar to your encounter with him in the volcano. Mentally… he’s different I don’t really know how to explain it.” You try to put on a brave face, but even without seeing you Chris picks up on your current vulnerability.

“That’s alright. The important thing is that you’re safe and you stay safe. Are you two able to hole up somewhere until we arrive?”

“Well… we have a safe place for now. And how long’s that gonna be?”

“Depends on your location. Jake, do you have any coordinates?”

Jake responds with a latitude and a longitude. You hear talking on the other end of the line, then you hear something that has to be a curse from Chris before he finally gives you an answer.

“Seven hours, give or take.”

You sigh. That’s too long but you can’t shorten the length of the ocean, so you accept it. “Okay. Just operate off the assumption that he’s going to be hard to put down. Use flame-based ammunition, magnums, rocket launchers, and anything else you got that packs a punch.”

“I’ll pass that along. Keep this line open, I’ll be back. Don’t hang up.”

“Roger that. We’ll be here.”

You mute the microphone and lean back in your chair with a tired sigh. Jake gives you a pointed look.

“You have Golden Boy’s number memorized, but you talk to each other like that?”

You give Jake an annoyed look. “Not important right now! We have bigger problems.”

You get up from your seat to pace the room. You need to come up with a plan. “As of right now, we have absolutely nothing in terms of defense.”

Jake leans against the computer system with his arms crossed and watches you. “Not exactly. There’s too many gas masked bozos walking around here for there not to be an armory somewhere.”

You look at Jake, exasperated. “Machine guns and pistols aren’t going to make a big enough dent. There were five guards unloading everything they had on Albert in the chamber, and it didn’t even phase him. You’d need something stronger. A lot stronger.”

“Well maybe they have some heavy-duty stuff stashed away for emergencies. Point is, we won’t know unless I go out and look.” Jake pushes himself away from the monitor and starts to walk towards the door but you stand in front of him before he can get too far.

“You’ll be a sitting duck out there!” You chastise, ready to put what remains of your fighting spirit to convince Jake not to walk straight into the maw of the beast, but your facial expression shifts to a haunted look when something on the security system catches your eye.

One the center console, a hulking figure that makes your blood turn to ice comes into view. You see the black, elongated, tendril engulfed arm grasp the corner of a hallway before the rest of Albert’s body comes into view. The blood of all the unfortunate scientists is splattered across his face and chest. His red eyes are very clearly dilated, and he has an uncharacteristically wide grin on his face.

Jake notices your expression and looks behind him. Jakes expression and tone turn cold and serious.

“That him?”

You nod, unable to tear your eyes from the screen. You walk toward the console as if you’re in a trance and sit in the chair in front of it. Like driving by a car accident, can’t take your eyes off of the disaster that Youju insisted on causing. You see Albert’s lips move, but nothing is heard.

“Does this thing have audio?” You mutter the question to yourself more than anything, but Jake is quick to come to your side and flip on a switch on the control panel. Albert’s voice, somewhat morphed from the audio system, is heard loud and clear.

“My looooove? Where did you go lovely? We have so much time to make up for…”

Albert speaks in that same ‘off’ tone from before; direct and garbled. However, now it has a… singsong quality to it? Your fear is momentarily replaced with confusion. Jake glances at you, then back to the screen just as confused as you are. This is his infamous father?

“Did he… talk like that?” Jake asks, watching the screen along with you.

You keep watching the screen with a befuddled look on your face. “Absolutely not. The lava, or whatever Youju’s team tried to do to wake him up before today fried his brain or something. It’s a complete personality shift.”

You and Jake continue to watch Albert on the screen as he leans against the wall walking down the length of the hallway, leaving a trail of black gunk dripping down the pristine paneling along where he’s touched in his wake. When Albert’s in the center of the hallway, his posture grows rigid and he stops walking. His unengulfed arm attempts to reach behind him in the center of his shoulder blades in jagged movements. After a couple seconds, Albert’s body twitches again and the free arm drops back down to his side and he keeps calling out to you and continues his journey down the hallway.

You lean forward closer to the monitor that Albert was on.

“Wait… he was clawing at something on his back.”

Jake nods and pauses the footage. Then rewinds. As you saw before, Albert stops sauntering down the hallway and jerkily tries to reach behind his shoulder to something on his back. It’s easy to miss with all the black Uroboros tendrils overtaking his upper body, but there’s clearly a circular device between his shoulder blades.

“You’re right. What is that thing?”

You tilt your head and squint, recognizing the shape but confused as to why it’s there. “It’s hard to tell from the angle, but it looks like a regulator.”

“Regulator? For what?”

You shake your head, still confused. “Nothing Uroboros related.”

“Then why is it there?”

You don’t have an answer. You sit back in the chair and keep looking at the regulator in the center of the screen. “Before Albert woke up… Youju said all avenues of breaking his comatose state had been exhausted,” you think out loud.

The gears in your head are turning. Once solitary threads of thought gradually intertwine to form a loose weave until they tighten into a tapestry revealing the answer. The sample room. The audio recordings of your voice. His comatose state. Him acting much gentler with you than he ever was when you knew him. The regulator.

You sit up in your chair so quickly that it startles Jake, but you’re too caught up in your revelation to care. “Neo Umbrella gave him a parasite!” You exclaim excitedly, turning towards Jake. “We can use that.” You don’t wait for Jake to reply, you’re already up and out of the chair looking for some kind of map.

Jake looks at you blankly, not following your thinking. “A parasite? And that’s a good thing?”

“I think I know what Youju meant! There is no reason for them to have that extensive of a virus collection unless they were using it for something. I bet they tried injecting Albert with a bunch of viruses to see if they could wake him up. When that didn’t work they turned to parasites.”

A map of this floor of the facility hangs on the wall from haphazardly placed yellow tape next to the door. Your smile grows bigger and movements more animated the longer you explain your thought process as you grab the map off the wall. You turn back to Jake.

“But not just any parasite. The Nemesis parasite.”

Jake is still confused, not knowing what that means so you continue, walking back to the announcement system and putting the map on the console.

“Back when Umbrella was making Tyrants, big beefy bioweapons that were designed to be soldiers, they were impressive physically, but had limited brain function as a result of the T-Virus so they could only follow simple commands and they couldn’t talk. ‘Kill everyone you see,’ ‘guard this thing,’ you get the idea. They were trying to find a way to make them a bit smarter. They’d hit a dead end with viruses, so they added engineered parasites to Tyrants.”

You pause to make sure Jake is still paying attention. He is, but he still has a look that says, ‘how is this relevant?’ so you keep going, taking a pen from the table and trying to find the locations of the cameras to mark them on the map.

“The Nemesis still had limited brain function, but he could say a few words and it could carry out detailed commands and use weapons. ‘Kill these specific people, use this rocket launcher’ etcetera etcetera. But there was still a high risk of over mutation when the parasite was inserted, so they smacked on a regulator to help mitigate that.”

Jake blinks, still not understanding. “So?”

“So if they gave Albert the parasite, that means he’s going to be much more susceptible to taking orders from me.”

“From you? Weren’t you worried about him killing you earlier? Why would he take orders from you?”

“Like… the parasite has been told for however long it’s been in there to wake up because its wife is here. It’s only been given carefully curated audio snippets of my voice, so it’s forced to view me as a positive… figurehead in Albert’s life.” You point to the transcripts on the table, trying to make Jake see your point before turning your attention back to him.

“He told me he missed me, Jake. I’m willing to bet if I use that announcement system, I can lead him anywhere the system is-”

“-and give me a window to slip in and get the sample and some supplies.” Jake finishes with a serious expression.

“And if everything goes right, we just might hold out until reinforcements get here.” You’re smiling, still riding the adrenaline high from finally figuring out the bigger picture of what’s going on.

Jake crosses his arms and stares at the monitor with Albert still on it. “It’s a crazy plan Doc.”

Your face falls and you’re about to try and plead your case, but Jake smirks before you can answer.

“I’m in.”

_____________________________________________________

“Albert? Where are you darling? I can’t find you.”

You croon into the microphone and watch Albert, yet again, jerk his head towards the hallway you just projected your voice to and use his Uroboros arm to drag himself along the wall in the direction of your voice.

On the walkie talkie Jake scrounged up from the storage boxes that were by the broken radio equipment before he left, Jake provides an update on his search for better weapons plus the G-Sample.

“216 through 245 are bust. It’s just storage.”

“Copy that.”

You respond on your walkie talkie, marking off and labeling the relevant rooms on your map and watching Jake continue to navigate through the labyrinthine facility on the cameras.

Considering the circumstances, everything has been going well in the half hour Jake has been gone. Albert, in his limited mental capacity, hasn’t caught on to the fact you’re talking to him through the announcement system. Plus, Jake is making good time going through each hallway in the facility thanks to Youju’s white keycard.

 Chris’ professional voice from the computer system breaks your concentration.

“Doc? Jake? You there?”

You close your eyes and take a breath. You were hoping that the universe would be merciful, and the connection would drop so you’d have a valid reason not to talk to Chris.

You weren’t so lucky, so you check the cameras one more time to ensure that Albert and Jake aren’t going to cross paths, then roll your chair over to the microphone on the other module. You flick off the mute button.

“You’ve got Doc. Any updates?”

“We’ve got an army of guys on their way to your location. Time of arrival is estimated at seven hours.”

You feel your shoulders visibly relax. Rescue is on the way.

“That’s great news.” You mutter.

“Is Jake around?”

For a second, you think about lying so he doesn’t know you’re alone. Nothing convincing comes to mind. “No. He stepped out to get supplies. I can pass along a message on his walkie though?”

“That’s alright.”

Awkward silence.

“How’s working in Germany?” Chris sounds less professional this time.

You sigh and close your eyes. “I don’t think this is the best time for small talk.”

“Just making conversation. We’ve got time. I want to know how you’re liking it.” Chris says. You can hear the slight smile in his voice. The genuine nature of his words.

You always had a weakness for his kindness. He had a way of worming himself into your good graces without even trying.

“It’s good. The people are great. I miss having reliable air conditioning though.” You joke.

You hear Chris chuckle. “Yeah, the Europeans aren’t big on that kind of thing.”

Despite everything, you find yourself smiling. As much as you hate to admit it to yourself, you missed his laugh. How easy it is to talk to him.

“What about you? How’s Claire doing?” You ask.

“She’s still helping the world in her own way with TerraSave. She’s also been breathing down my neck about cutting back on smoking.”

“I’m sure you don’t mind that. If she’s breathing down your neck, that means she’s visiting.”

Another chuckle that makes butterflies erupt in your stomach sounds over the speaker. “If she were doing it in person, I don’t think I’d mind so much.”

Both of you sit in comfortable silence.

“I’ve missed seeing you around, but I’m glad you’re doing alright.” Chris says, vulnerability underlying his words.

Your throat gets tight, and you bite back the words before you can say them.

Don’t tell him you miss him too. It will make him feel worse.

Luck is on your side this time. Jake’s voice emanates from the walkie talkie in your lap.

“Doc? I need eyes on something.”

You let out a sigh of relief, then speak to Chris through the microphone. “Jake’s calling. I’ll be back.”

“I’ll be here.”

You mute yourself on the microphone and wheel yourself back over to the security system.

“I’m here. What do you need?”

“Can I get your professional opinion on what’s happening in front of 250?”

Your eyebrows scrunch in confusion, but you pull up the necessary camera to see what Jake is talking about. All you can do is stare for a moment at the grim sight. Most of the lens is obstructed by a black substance, but even with the limited visibility you know it’s the personnel and guards that were unlucky enough to be in Albert’s way when he escaped containment. Black gunk saturates the walls and ground that you’re able to see.

You force yourself to respond.

“Part of the lens is blocked, but those are casualties of Albert. Just step around them. The dead don’t come back naturally with Uroboros. It just makes them harder to kill.”

“Not talkin’ about that Doc. Give me a second.”

You’re about to ask what Jake means by that, but before you can, you see something wiping the lens of the security camera you’re looking through. After a few seconds you see an uncomfortably close view of Jake’s nose as he wipes away the gunk from the lens.

How the hell did he scale the 12 foot height to wipe that gunk off?

You use one of the other screens to pull up an angle of the hallway Jake just cleared, and you can see that he scaled the wall by somehow using his balance and strength to tuck himself into the corner where the two hallways meet.

“Were you raised in the fucking circus? Where did you learn that?” You say into the walkie in disbelief.

“By being a teenage shithead, now look!” Jake replies, exasperated and moving out of the way of the camera and revealing a body almost completely overtaken by worms of Uroboros. Your disbelief quickly shifts into grim realization.

That needs to be burned.

Your voice comes out eerily calm.

“Don’t touch it. Don’t shoot it. Don’t interact with it. Uroboros needs to be burned for proper disposal.”

You see Jake crouch to look at the body from a different angle. You see him bring the walkie to his lips.

“Will touching it infect me?”

“No, but it might eat you since you’re organic material!! Just don’t ingest it, keep your distance and you’ll be fine.”  You spit through your teeth, not liking Jake’s series of questions or what it could mean for his future actions.

Jake looks at the body for a moment longer then stands up with the walkie to his lips, looking at you through the camera.

“Don’t lick the weird black stuff. Seems simple enough.”

You groan. “Let’s just hope these Neo Umbrella guys had the foresight to keep a flamethrower on hand.” You tiredly respond.

On one of the other monitors, you see Albert meandering in the direction of Jake’s current location. You speak into the walkie.

“Hey sit tight for a minute, I need to redirect Albert.”

You see Jake give you a thumbs up on the camera and you flit your attention to one of the other monitors. While Albert isn’t alarmingly close to Jake’s location, it’s still too close for comfort. You set the microphone to make an announcement in the opposite direction.

“I’m over here love! Come find me!”

You see Albert’s face light up on the screen and turn to follow your voice, but he freezes mid-turn. You tap the screen, thinking that the old equipment froze up on you. But then you see Albert’s face twitching.

It’s mild at first; only one of his red snake eyes twitch. But then it’s his whole face. The uncharacteristically wide grin twitches downward, a scowl gradually etches itself into his visage, and his blown-out eyes undulate like a heartbeat smaller and smaller until they’re thin slits.

You hear a guttural groan of something akin to agony escape Albert’s lips as he attempts to reach behind him towards the regulator in between his shoulder blades.

“I will not be subdued!” Albert seethes through his teeth, arm, body and face twitching from an invisible battle for control. It’s a losing battle, and Albert isn’t on the winning side, but he realizes it too late. The second his eyes start to dilate and his arm stops grasping for the regulator, he throws his body against the wall in a vain attempt to remain coherent by bashing his head into the smooth white plaster. He shrieks in a heart wrenching combination of frustration and agony. You recognize it with dreaded clarity from the day he died in the volcano. The plaster is marred with a watercolor painting of red, pink and black splotches. Then, as quickly as it started, Albert freezes in place, his face twitches back to what it was before, then he meanders towards the direction he last heard your voice, not bothering to wipe off the blood or black substance from his face.

“Dearheart? Where’s my little wife?” Albert asks with an uncanny grin, leaving a trail of black liquid in his wake.

All you can do is sit and try to process what you just saw with a haunted look on your face. Albert hasn’t changed. It only appears like he has.

You slowly bring the walkie to your lips.

“Jake there’s been a development.” You speak into the walkie lowly.

“I’m guessing it isn’t the good kind.” Jake quips.

You don’t acknowledge his attempt at humor. “It looks like Albert’s fighting with himself.”

Jake is silent for a moment. “And what does that mean?”

You take a deep breath to collect yourself. “This is only a theory, but I think because Albert has a natural immunity to a lot of viruses and parasites, his subconscious is buried but mostly intact.”

“So… the parasite’s driving the car but Wesker’s in the backseat trying to take the wheel.”

“Exactly. And I don’t want to find out what happens if he succeeds.”

You glance back at the monitor where you last saw Albert. From a surface level perspective, he’s back to how he was when he broke out of the chamber. It’s apparent that the Nemesis parasite currently has the upper hand. But what happens when it doesn’t?

You shake away the thought and keep talking to Jake through the walkie.

“Look, try to find Youju’s office and try to figure out exactly what they did to try and wake him up. I can give a much more accurate game plan on how to handle this.”

“What’s the theory without it?”

“If he overpowers the parasite, we’re fucked.”

“Find the papers. Got it. Just keep the old man busy.”

“Will do. You keep laying low.”

You set the walkie on the security panel, already feeling exhausted. You watch Jake continue his methodical room check on the monitor, then drag your attention over to where Albert is heading, his sudden clarity sending a chill down your spine. Then you look over to the computer system where Chris is still waiting to hear your voice.

You groan and let your head hit the back of your rolling chair.

This is going to be a long night.

Tag List: @killerwendigo @appreciativemediaconsumer @kaymarnun @chucklefak

a/n 2: Thanks again for reading! I've got an AO3 account now so I'm cross posting this series on there if that's where you prefer to read your fics. Based on my outline, it looks like this thing is gonna be a 10ish parter so stick around!

Also I'm on AO3 now at wil_o_wispy if you like reading your fics on there!

AO3 link for this part.

[darknessisafriend]

Commodus the whore of the Empress Part 4 Commodus x Reader

I never planned to make another part of this wonderful story but suddenly a few ideas popped up. So, I hope you will enjoy it! less smutty than the previous chapters but a lot of erotic tension there with a touch of angst ;)

For the newbies this is an imagine of a AU where Commodus falls from grace, you become Empress and he becomes your pleasure slave. However things are not so easy. (link to part 1, 2 ; 3 here)

Months passed as you kept enjoying your slave. Now people had forgotten the fallen emperor and only saw the slave, not even minding him as they crossed his path and perhaps that was a mistake, at least that’s what you had started thinking. Commodus was freely going around, sharing your bed every night, going unnoticed like any slaves except for his beauty, he was happy, it was obvious to you now, he had that peaceful air in his eyes, that discreet smile on his lips. It bothered you…he must have a plan in mind, something to run away, take back power even and you had to do something about it. You had to remind him who was in charge and what was his place.

“You asked to see me?” asked Commodus as he bowed his head at you as he always did. His face remained neutral as he felt a change in the atmosphere, he didn’t feel your warmth, he felt as if he was facing a wall.

“Indeed. I’ve realized we missed something truly important in your current status.” You announced, and nodded at a man he hadn’t noticed. The man was richly dressed and yet his hands were covered in dark smudges, coal perhaps, he was probably a blacksmith. Commodus widened his eyes as he saw that the man held an iron collar in his hands with a tag in the middle, like any slave collar of the Roman Empire; on it could be read: If I flee, return me to my master, Emperess Y/N.

He looked at you and then back at the collar and then at you again before dropping to his knees and deeply bowing “Thank you, my Empress.” He said fervently, earning a frown from you and the blacksmith, never you had heard of a slave thanking such gesture. “Don’t be absurd. Let’s see if I have you branded with a hot iron will make you thank me.” You spat a threat, believing he was exaggerating to obtain your favors. You even put your foot on his crotch, making him retain a hum of pleasure.

“Still…I would feel honored to be branded with your name.” he replied with the same passion. You eyed him, your heart beating faster both in frustration and flatter, like a young girl under the power of love. You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to stand your ground, be harsh, a master and not a friend, so you cut short to the conversation.

“Enough. I have other matters to attend, go away.” You stated, waving at Commodus dismissively. You briefly made eye contact with him, you could read a certain confusion like a puppy who didn’t understand the situation and was simply begging for caresses.

The silence lasted for a few seconds as if he wanted to try to remain by your side like he usually did, ready to fulfill your every needs. But he soon understood you were being serious, you didn’t want his presence, maybe it was due to some political meeting, he thought. In that case his presence would be an insult to both parties.

The morning passed slowly; you had grown irritated on your way to the Senate. The absence of Commodus was cruelly felt; that man had managed to make himself indispensable to you and on purpose you thought; how could you have been so stupid as to let yourself being seduced by your worst enemy!? Let him share your bed? He could kill you anytime and he would surely attempt soon, once you would be blindly in love with him, perhaps after changing his political status.

A headache started splitting your skull as you listened to the incessant speeches of the senators. To the point you hadn’t noticed a presence, the clear eyes of Commodus watching you from the service corridor; he was worried. You disliked the senators as much he did, but he noticed something else was making thoughtful, upset. The slaves rarely entered the auditorium except to serve wine and a few necessities or wave a fan during high heat. However Commodus decided to enter, he had never done it since his fall, under your express order, most Senators had wished him dead and seeing him would feel like seeing a ghost threatening their lives.  Usually, you secretly granted him to accompany you to watch, today you hadn’t seen he had come as well.

He silently approached, ignoring the scandalized look of some politicians, others terrified of him. He was carrying a bowl of hot water infused with herbs and a piece of cloth inside to apply to your head and sooth the pain.

You didn’t notice his presence at first “No. The pleb wellbeing matters to me and the money we invest on that will be rewarded by their loyalty and economic growth of the south of the city.” You stated, glad most senators had gone silent. Well, until you noticed it wasn’t related to your words. You turned your head in the direction of their gazes and saw Commodus waiting obediently by your side, a bowl of warm water in his hands. All colors left your face at first, what was he doing in front of the Senate!? tending to you as if you were some weak poor thing!?

“What. Are. You. Doing here?” you gritted your teeth, your cheeks turning red from anger, your heart racing from stress. You could feel everyone’s gaze on you, expecting a proper response, wondering what’s the next mistake you would make, anything to discredit you. Commodus only seemed to realize now that prioritizing your wellbeing over politics was a mistake, he had put you in an uncomfortable position. He blinked a few times and opened his mouth, but no words came out, no he had to do better. He dropped the bowl which splashed water all over him and threw himself on the ground, as low as he could, his forehead on the cold marble of the Senate…who knew he would ever bow in that damn building. A senator scoffed at the sight, satisfied to see the arrogant Commodus reduced to this.

“Get that…away from this sacred auditorium.” You snarled angrily, your chest filled with anxiety, your emotions as conflicted as ever, how much you should express your anger? How much should you control yourself?

“What a nice entertainment. I have to admit I enjoy this sight more than his dead body.” Commented Falco, making other Senators laugh. The man that you didn’t trust had actually helped you in that moment, turning this situation into nothing but a funny pause between debates. Commodus ignored the humiliations, what mattered now was to sooth you and he had made things worse! He kept his eyes on the ground as he was dragged back to the service area, receiving a hard push against the wall, a warning to not overstep again…

On your way back to the palace in the afternoon, you sat in the Lectica, a palanquin just big enough for you and another person, who turned out to be Commodus in that moment. You were looking out, behind the thin cotton curtains, anything but the one sitting in front of you, despite the hours passing after the incident. Commodus gaze was locked on you, expecting “I merely wanted to relieve your headache.” He said at first, his words making you groan in response.

“You came to stand in front of the Senators, you, that fallen Emperor, showing care for me. You think of it as normal task as a slave but to their eyes it is defiance to them, it shows I give you too much importance, trust. How long before they start saying that you are my lover? That you are the one speaking in the shadows and I am merely the mouth repeating your words?” you spoke in a hushed tone, yet your anger could be felt, you felt vulnerable, being a leading woman in Rome was hard already, you didn’t need this. You raised your hand before Commodus could answer “I do not want any excuse or lies from you. Cease to annoy me, I am starting to regret keeping you alive already.” You muttered, not seeing how his sorry gaze had turn into hurt, his knuckles turning white. Why that change of attitude from you? What had bug had stung you? He swallowed down, remaining silent for the rest of the trip, his mind searching his memories to try to find the precise gesture, care or even word that would have displeased you.

Once you reached the palace, you walked fast, wanting to isolate yourself, your emotions were taking over your rationality and that was something you tried to avoid, especially when it involved yourself. Commodus followed, back inside the palace he didn’t have to hide and intended on obtaining answers.

“Your Highness is there something I did wrong to anger you?” he asked clearly, making you slow down your pace, not looking at him ‘Stop pretending that you care’ you thought.

“I know what you are. Cut the act, no need to pretend anymore.” You stated instead, stopping, your back to him, you had heard him come to a halt a few steps behind you, but closer than a slave, more intimate. There was a silence for a few seconds, as if he was trying to understand your words.

“Pretend? Empress I am not pretending, I have never been h-…”

“Oh please stop!” you cut him off, squeezing your eyes and clenching your jaw ‘Drop your mask Commodus…make me hate you, it will be easier’ you prayed in your mind. “But what did you think Commodus?! That I care about you? That I feel some sympathy for your cause?! Leave.” You spoke angrily, refusing to look at him, your gaze would betray your inner turmoil too much. You walked again intending to go away for good.

But he grabbed your arm, stopping you in your tracks, the surprise gesture made you face him, revealing your teary eyes “Y/N aren’t you seeing you are becoming like me?! Paranoid and alone! That’s when you are becoming the weakest!” he exclaimed, he wanted to enlighten you, warn you of the danger. His expression softened the moment he saw your eyes, why were you on the verge of tears? You turned your head to gather yourself, then looking at him dead in the eyes, furious.

“You dare!” you yelled in front of slaves and guards, he had touched you, called you by your name, as equals. It was abnormal and the praetorians had instantly unsheathed their swords and approached, seizing him hard enough to make him let go of you, the pommel of the sword violently hitting his belly to make him kneel painfully. You panted, his gesture had scared you, and your ego was hit.

“I think I was too tender to my slave. Remind him of his status. 10 lashes.” You dropped under the emotion, anger, fear, pain mixing all together into an explosive adrenaline. Commodus face was livid as he was dragged to the stake reserved for corporal punishments et executions, a crowd of curious courtesans gathering to watch, the word of the flogging would the ears of all in few hours.

He panted as the rope around his wrists was tightly pulled, it was impossible for him to move. Except for a few beatings when he fell, he had never suffered any physical punishment, he was barely comprehending what was happening. He had only asked to understand what was happening to you, wanting to save you from the paranoia he had suffered, why did you punish him for it? You used to treat him with tolerance and kindness…had he been wrong from the start? Did he imagine things? Was he fooled by you just like he had been fooled by his father…? His trail of thoughts was cut short by the first hit of the whip, tearing away the air from his lungs, a surprised cry of pain escaping his mouth, followed by a groan as to try to recover but the second lash came already.

You watched the scene, conscious the Court was watching too, the Empress hurting the fallen emperor who had become a slave, showing to all he was indeed just a slave, nothing more to your eyes. Your fists were clenched, each crack of the whip resonating in your skull, your eyes filled with the bloody back of Commodus. You felt agony, dread, and power, your darkest self finding satisfaction while the other wanted to stop the slave master from accomplishing the task you had ordered.

Soon, Commodus grew quiet, too in pain to react, barely able to remain conscious, the reality of the situation had hit him way harder than the whip. You had ordered this. His legs gave up under his weight after the last hit.

Soon, the Court left, amused, satisfied by the sight and ready to spread word of the drama within the imperial palace. Only you remained and the slave master who joined you for the next orders. “Have the doctors treat his wounds, I want him back on his feet as soon as possible.” You hushed, the blood pumping in the ears of Commodus prevented him from hearing anything. The next thing he knew was that you were standing in front of him, one lash had split his lip open; you seized his jaw to look at him in the eyes.

You contained your surprise as you were met with an empty gaze clouded with pain, you had expected anger, fierceness. “You are only alive because I want to remind you how much you failed.” You spoke, your thumb erasing the blood trickling down his chin, and bring the drop to your lips, tasting him, wanting to provoke a reaction from him. “You belong to me Commodus, I have the right of life and death, of your pain and your pleasure…I had to do this. I hope you will understand later my decision. Sincerely.” You spoke, only for him to hear; he didn’t react, only looking at you in the eyes with an infinite air of betrayal. You leaned closer, kissing him roughly, tasting more of his blood which felt even more exquisite when a whimper died against your lips, despite everything Commodus was still yearning for your touch. You slowly parted, he was on the verge of passing out, his gaze even more filled with pain, yet you felt great pleasure in the power you had over him, he was indeed completely at your mercy, and you were the one in control, still. You grinned somehow reassure that you were still the master, that if you decided to fuck him right now, or to end his life, you could. However, his lips moved, pronouncing your name so weakly you couldn’t it. You saw his eyes still bore nothing else than pain and…devotion? doubt and guilt sprouted in your mind, was he right? Were you being touched by the same illness as his?

For the rest of the day Commodus laid in the infirmary, on his stomach, silent. The pain in his heart was stronger than the one of the torn flesh of his back. He couldn’t stop thinking about what happened, about you, and he hated it.

“One must be a fool to talk back to the Empress that way. Or desperate. And I believe you are not a fool.” Commented the doctor who took care of him, he had known him when he was Emperor and still treated him as such, never he had dared to call him by his name which is something Commodus regretted, that doctor was probably what he had the closest to a friend.

“I thought she cared about me, Galen…I thought we…” he murmured sadly, you hadn’t even let him explain himself.

“Just because a master appreciates the work of his slave doesn’t mean they care for the person behind it.” Replied Galen, looking at him with compassion. He was still seeing the young boy craving the approval of those he loved. Like a stray dog, wagging its tail when receiving a bone to chew after receiving a beating. “Listen, what I- your highness!” he interrupted himself standing up at your view and bowing in respect. He swallowed down, not knowing for how long you had stood there.

“How is he?” you asked, seeing Commodus’ hands clenching the bedsheets. You approached delicately laying your fingers on the sensitive and red skin of his back, goosebumps appearing at your contact, was it from anticipation? Pleasure?

“I would say that thankfully to the weakness of the slave master, the whip didn’t tear any muscle, mostly just the skin, deeply. He will need many weeks to recover fully, 6 weeks at least, the scars will remain forever. I apologize for not being able to do better and faster.” Bowed again Galen, probably the man didn’t know what to think of you, you had visited him very little after all. “He will be able to stand and do basic chores in about 3 days.” He added, hoping it was enough to satisfy you.

“It is fine. I do not need him for now.” You answer, your eyes detailing the body of your slave, you wanted to punish the slave master for hitting too low which ended up in scarring Commodus left butt cheek. Your fingers traced around it, slowly going up his back on the sensitive skin again but careful to avoid touching the deepest wounds. Your fingers ended up burying in his damp curls, Commodus was hiding his face in the crook of his arms, his breathing faster, you could feel his desire, his fear, or perhaps he was trembling of rage to have failed to betray you? you wanted to be sure of it “Commodus, look at me.” You commanded; your voice not as authoritative as you wished it to be. He unveiled his eyes, infinite sadness in them, confusion. “Talk freely.” You added, doubt stronger in your mind, you worried, had you done a terrible mistake?

“Your highness…I do not understand the sudden change in the way you treat me. Fine I overstepped earlier but I needed answers and I believe you didn’t tell me the whole truth.” He spoke first, his voice broken from the cries he let out during the flogging. “Yes, I hated you when you humiliated me with worse than an execution, turning me into a slave, all I wanted was to wait for the proper moment to kill you. Make you pay.” He admitted at first, but his easiness made you understand it was only a brief thought of his “When I did my best to serve you, earn your trust. I discovered something else…about myself.” He smiled bitterly as if he hated that part of him “I bloody enjoyed serving you. Receiving your orders, receiving a pat on the head when I did exceptionally good. I had to think of nothing but your satisfaction. I was alive, living in a palace, giving pleasure to a beautiful woman who offered me her protection…what a dream it turned out to be. Now, for no reason you take it all away. Was it all part of your plan? To give me an illusion of peace and happiness, to take it all away from me after, to watch me crumble...?” he asked, his voice slightly trembling. You were taken by surprise; you had expected him to admit he was planning treason but not the opposite. You found yourself unable to hold his gaze, you had to admit you had no more strength to face him.

“Thank you for your honesty, Commodus.” You articulated, turning you head which he took badly, his heart aching even more, you didn’t even grant him a look anymore, when he had been the most vulnerable, admitting how he felt. You quickly left the infirmary, practically running to your chambers. Once the doors closed, you leaned against it, a shaky breath escaping your mouth. You passed a hand over your face, your lower lip trembling as realization hit you, you had reacted excessively, paranoia had infected your mind…

In the middle of the night

The imperial palace was silent except for the cracking of the torches on the walls, the occasional wind on the light curtains, the yawning of a guard…

Commodus hadn’t fallen asleep for the whole time, he couldn’t stop thinking about it, about that last conversation with him, comforting his doubts that indeed you had just played him just like his father did. He clenched his jaw, the moon was high in the sky, it was time. He stood up with difficulty, his back ached and his skin irritated by the slightest movement. But he would take care of that later. First, he had to kill you.

He exited the infirmary, the half sleeping guards paid no attention to him, slaves go on and about freely at any time of the day to serve their masters and you had not instructed any restrictions for him. He walked with an assured step and went to your chambers. He quietly opened the doors, his movements precise, he was an excellent hunter after all. His heart skipped a beat as he didn’t find you asleep but sitting at your study, tired as you wrote under the candlelight.

Before you knew it, you felt a cold blade against your jugular, the exact same blade you hid under your pillow “I was wondering if you would come.” You said, knowing it was Commodus, it was to be expected after all, you thought it was well earned.

“Here I am.” He murmured, keeping the blade against your throat and coming to stand in front of you, making eye contact. He noticed your eyes were red but your breathing calm. He swallowed down, his eyes becoming wet “All I ever inspired in my life wasn’t to rule, but to be loved, appreciated for who I am. I would give away my freedom a thousand times, be humiliated every day as long as you loved me back.” He sniffled, a tear rolling down his cheek, he didn’t just enjoy being your slave, he had fallen in love with you. “I trusted you, I…you have no idea how happy I was when you ask me to sleep with you for the first time. I was being considered. Now I realize how disgusted how you must have felt, having to share your bed with me, the one who had humiliated you. How you moaned my name and spread your legs just to make me think I had to slightest importance to your eyes. Cruel but genius, I have to praise that.” He smiled bitterly, his body trembling with anger and pain.

“Commodus...there was no such plan-” you started but he pressed the blade harder against your throat, he didn’t want to have false hope again.

“Shut up!” he hushed angrily, a drop of blood trickling down your neck, the blade was sharp. He leaned forward, bringing his face close to yours, kissing you sweetly, almost like the kiss of Judas. You let him do, willing to face him, let him obtain vengeance. “I am going to kill you. But before that I have only one thing to ask, and if you have some honor, you will grant me this last wish.” He spoke softly, his tone on the edge of begging. It could make one wonder if Commodus was the one in control of the situation or you.

“Tell me. I wish to repay the wrong I cause you these past days.” You agreed truthfully, looking at him in the eyes, which Commodus seemed to hate even more.

“Why must you only look at me now? If you had the guts to look at me earlier, I wouldn’t be standing with a blade under your throat, I would be on my knees, begging you to forgive for whatever wrong I did to you.” He said fondly before pulling himself together. “I want you to be my master one last time. Order me around, be rough, make me take you, everything as you usually did. Make me feel as you seemed to care for me, only me.” He requested, firm and desiring. Once again you had been wrong, you had expected him to request that you make public excuses or such, but no, once again he only wanted you, only you.

You teared up as you nodded, flashing a brief smile, how much you regretted hurting him that way. He kept the dagger in his hand as you focused, taking a deep breath to get back in your role of Empress. “Well, aren’t you greeting your mistress Commodus?” you asked, containing your emotions as much as you could as you usually did. His eyes lit up, glad you were satisfying his last wish, he knelt, dagger in hand as he deeply bowed, his forehead hitting the floor.

“Forgive me Empress. This lowly slave was too stricken by your return and is happy.” He said fervently, kissing your feet and ankles. You smiled, retaining tears, you had messed up everything, that beautiful bond that you had built, perhaps the only person you could trust in the end. You put your hand on his hair, caressing the curls.

“Look at me.” You stated, making your hold of his hair stronger to lift his head, his pupils were dilated exquisitely, despite the fact that some of his wounds had reopened, bleeding on the white marble. “Good boy.” You praised and stood up, going closer to the bed, offering your back to him, if he decided to stab you right now, then so be it.

 He stood up, approaching you from behind, so close you could feel his breath on your neck and sending shivers down your spine. You swallowed down, finding yourself wishing something …different from usual “Undress me. Do it as if we were equals.” You ordered quietly, anticipation building in your belly as he didn’t act at first. Then, you felt his arms wrapping around you from behind, squeezing you, the blade in his hand pressing against your belly, making you tremble slightly. He did nothing but hug you, his lips tracing kisses along your jugular, licking the blood from the cut, sucking your skin.

“I will mark you tonight. I was always careful to hide our whereabouts. But tonight, all will know you bedded a slave, the former emperor.” He murmured in your ear, leaving red spots on your skin. The blade moved under the binding of your stola, cutting the expensive clothing and making the fabric slide along your naked body. His blade left a small cut on your belly, making you gasp and quickly turn around, slapping him. He didn’t stop you and instead smirked “You marked me with your whip. Can’t I mark you with my blade?” he asked, condescending.

“A slave doesn’t mark his master.” You replied, red with fluster.

“Not equal anymore? My apologize, my Empress, you get so confusing at times.” He answered with a sneer, even if his tone wasn’t sincere like his usual slave attitude, he was having fun in teasing you.

“Don’t question me. Make love to me.” You stated, not realizing the words you had picked. But it touched Commodus deeply and his attitude went back to a submitted one, wanting to savor your body one last time.

He made you lay on the bed, kissing each part of your body as he made his way on top of you, memorizing it. It could have been like this forever, yet you had ruined everything and yet he still struggled to understand why, he knew you hid something to him. And he would make you talk right before killing you. He kissed your breast, soft and round, his teeth lingering on your nipples as his hands parted your legs, settling his body between them. Galen would be mad at him for reopening his wounds but well, he would probably be executed for killing the Empress anyway. You detailed him, your nails slowly scratching the skin of his chest, then, you grabbed his chin, quickly pulling him closer, crashing your lips against his, another painful kiss. You gasped as he penetrated you with one push, your fingers burying in his hair, your legs wrapping around him, pulling him deeper inside you. He grabbed hold of your legs, his hips giving rough pushes, he was venting, expressing all the passion and rage he held for you. One of your hands moved to his back, your fingertips on his wounds, making them bleed again, some crimson drops landing on your body.

“Argh…yes…highness!” his groan of pain strangled by moan of pleasure. His teeth biting your lower lip in return. That embrace was passionate, illegal…desperate. Yet, it was perhaps the most honest one you ever had, actions speaking more than words clumsily said.

The imperial bedroom was filled with pants, groans, gasps and moans, both inflicting pain and pleasure to each other. There was no tenderness, it was raw. And as fast as it started, it soon stopped. There had been no pause, nothing. And for long minutes, no words were spoken between the two of you, panting, his suffering body had collapsed on top of your, drenched in sweat. His head buried in your neck once again, he knew what he had to do but now he wasn’t sure if he truly wanted to do it, besides you still had to talk…you sensed his hesitation and decided to break the ice, not to save your life but to rather to be honest at least whatever you died or not, things would be clear.

“I’m sorry.” You spoke, your hand gently reaching to massage the back of his head “You were right, I great paranoid, just like you did before.” You said first, you could feel your heart beating faster against his as you were about to add something “I also...felt opposite emotions…I was furious at you for what you did to me and yet…I knew I had to do something to protect you.” You revealed, feeling him stiffen against your body. He lifted his head, a frown on his face, his eyes searching yours, trying to make sense of your words.

“What did I do to make you feel like this?” he asked, sincerely curious and touched. Could all of this had been a huge misunderstanding? or something else big enough to provoke her reaction? You took a deep breath, apprehensive of his reaction, your life and the future of the Empire would lie in his hands.

“The truth was I was terrified of…our relationship. Commodus, I am pregnant with your child.”

Thoughts? theories? next part? I'd be very happy if you comment, like or reblog ^^^love y'all

Commodus harem: @skaravile @weirdflecksbutok @lyoongx @stardancerluv @charlie-sisters @sgtsavoytruffle @ohcarlesmycarles @rajacero @niniitah-ah @morrisonmercurryphoenix @fly-like-a-phoenix @galos-writing @pstvchld @chiclunatic @hopelessdisasterr @sparklygardenerlove @rosebloodstuffandthangss @clowndaddyfleck @jaylovebats @dreamingmaria @just-a-fucking-comedy @lady-carnival-stuff @sierraclegane @lemondedenimane @hvproductions @syvellsworld @papercut-paranoia @jokerflecker @five-miles-over @beatlebabe1996 @kfanniart @soulsfrostedheart18 @mayflower-gal

[oftenwantedafton]

Vent - Steve Raglan/William Afton/Springtrap x Female Reader

Chapters 1-3

Rating - Explicit

Warnings - mentions of childhood trauma, mental illness, no explicit content in these chapters

Summary - You’re the one that got away from the yellow rabbit; the first of William Afton’s intended victims.

Eight years later, you find yourself drawn back to the pizzeria you’ve shut from your mind for so long; to the strange man that offers you a job and friendship …and something much darker.

Also available on AO3 - Chapter 1 | 2 | 3

Chapter 1 ~ the one that got away ~

You don’t feel well.

The combination of greasy pizza and the overly sweet frosting on the birthday cake you’d just consumed in rapid succession collide unpleasantly in your stomach. You feel yourself moving further and further back from the other children, but no one seems to notice, and who would, after all; it’s one of those parties the entire class is invited to so no one feels left out. You don’t really know the girl that’s celebrating, don’t find yourself engaging with the other children. You don’t really belong. You’re just a shadow drifting on the edges of the crowd, alone and unwanted.

The costumed yellow rabbit has been present for the entire party, posing for photographs with the children whose parents actually wanted a memento of the occasion. Your own parents do nothing but argue, make you feel like it’s your fault that they’re stuck together, a costly mistake that’s lasted a decade.

The rabbit figure moves to stand beside you, crouching down with a grace that’s impressive given the bulk of the costume. He’s tall even at this height, an intimidating figure towering by your small form.

“I have a surprise for you,” he says, his muffled voice low near your ear.

You’d gotten the cautionary lecture about going somewhere with strangers before, of course; there had been an entire afternoon at school dedicated to rehearsing what to do in certain situations.

But the rabbit mascot wasn’t really a stranger, was he? You knew it was a man inside the suit, of course; an employee at Freddy’s that you couldn’t imagine being anything other than friendly and kind.

“What is it?” You ask, your attention focused on the shiny button nose.

“It’s out back. You have to come with me to see it.”

Your stomach rolls again, churning a warning. Something was off, but you weren’t sure what it was.

He sees your hesitation and his paw rests on your back, rubbing a soft circle. It’s oddly soothing, in combination with his whispered reassurances and gentle promises; you can’t remember the last time someone had been so nice to you. You glance back at the party attendees that have already forgotten you exist and you nod, having to reach up to cling to the yellow fur covered hand he offers once he straightens, guiding you out of the dining room.

You’re led through a series of corridors until you arrive someplace much more dimly lit. It’s cold back here, quiet. There are piles of things you don’t understand stacked on steel shelves. You suddenly want to return to the party. At least it had been warmer there.

The yellow rabbit releases your hand. “Are you ready for your surprise?”

You nod uncertainly, wondering if you could even find your way back to the dining room at this point; if anyone could hear you scream for help.

You hear the sound of something metal being dragged as he lifts it from the nearest workbench, the kitchen knife looking so sharp next to that soft fur.

Your eyes widen and you turn and run.

You can feel him lunge at your retreating form, just missing, sweeping across your hair and the bow on the back of your party dress. You choose a direction blindly, your feet slapping against the concrete floor. Relief washes over you when you hear the sound of the dining room getting louder, the light spilling through the glass panes of the Employees Only doors a beacon for you to follow.

You burst through the doors and head for the nearest adult you can see, tucking breathlessly behind them, watching fearfully for your pursuer.

They never reappear, and you never tell anyone what had happened.

After all, who would care?

Chapter 2 ~ the oubliette ~

You walk with no destination, cutting through a field dotted with the end of last summer’s fading wild flowers.

The fence that borders your makeshift path has fallen to ruin, the wood rotted and collapsing, surrendering to the elements. You count the posts that defy the passage of time and remain standing, crediting even those that list to one side, the rugged earth crumbling at their bases. It’s a distraction, something to focus on besides the poor grade you’d received on your first history exam of the semester, your senior year already starting off terribly. You bitterly recall the fight you'd had with your stepmother the night before and the lunchroom that has no room for you, because you do not care for fashion or makeup or giggling over young pop stars, driving you to eat alone tucked under the stairs.

You reach out and run your fingers over the tallest weeds, letting the dry stalks brush against skin that is ink stained, forever smudged when you spill your buried thoughts and feelings onto paper. You never keep them, afraid they’ll be seen and misunderstood, and you can’t bear the thought of that; those innermost expressions violated and judged by others. They’re all you have to cling to.

You smell the rain before you feel it, the dry spell that has lasted for weeks finally giving way beneath the fury of the atmosphere. A few stray drops fall on your bare arms, a precursor of what is to come, the accompanying rumble of thunder a gentle growl in the distance.

You’ve reached civilization again, such as it is; this part of town long vacant, filled with closed shops and shuttered houses. The economy of Hurricane has always been a fragile thing, one of the many small towns that developers had sought to populate and expand, and for a time it had actually flourished. The expansion had happened too soon, though, abandoned in favor of cities with industry, lured by the promise of more jobs and better access to finer housing and richer commerce.

Your footsteps slow as you near a large structure rising up before you, the children’s party themed restaurant long vacated. You’d heard stories about it before, something about missing children, parents calling for it to be shut down and the owner investigated. You vaguely remember being there for someone’s birthday party once when you were younger, the feeling that something unpleasant had happened while you were there tickling the edges of your mind, but the details are fuzzy. A lot of your childhood memories are like that. Your therapist had said it was a defense mechanism, your brain trying to protect you by obscuring those recollections. You figured if that was the case you were better off not remembering whatever it was that was so traumatic. You had your journaling and that was more than enough as far as you’re concerned. You’d never liked going to therapy anyway, grateful when your stepmother had declared it a needless expense since you didn’t seem to be benefiting from it and you never returned. It’s the only good thing she’d ever unwittingly done for you.

Stepping over a chunk of broken asphalt, you enter the parking lot of the pizzeria. Weeds and small trees and patches of crab grass poke through the tar, finding life in the smallest bits of soil, the unattended blacktop crumbling in their wake. Another scattering of moisture from the gray clouds above strikes your bare skin and you hear the thunder’s growl becoming more impatient.

The building’s cheerful yellow and green paint has long since faded, the painted plaster and tiles of the checkerboard pattern decorating the outside missing in many places, fallen and crumbling. The front entrance and windows are all boarded up, surprisingly clear of graffiti, as if no one is willing to go near the place, afraid of the consequences of desecrating that structure.

The downpour begins.

You bypass the front of the building, stepping hurriedly around a fallen sign, the cracked glass and smashed lighting preventing you from seeing much more than the arm raised in a friendly wave that belongs to the restaurant’s infamous bear mascot. You nearly trip on a root as you weave through the side lot, the failing light from the darkening skies making it difficult to see.

Lightning briefly illuminates your surroundings and that’s when you catch sight of the open window.

It’s so oddly intact, unblemished unlike the rest of the building, the glass panes undisturbed, the frame solid. You think if you could find something to stand on it would be enough of an elevation to climb inside.

You hesitate over this thought, at the strong impulse that makes you feel as if you’re being lured inside.

It’s easy to blame the torrential rain for your desire to escape the elements and you discard the discomfiting thought. There are a couple of pallets from some forgotten shipment of goods that seem strong enough to support your weight and you drag them hastily beneath the opening. You’re drenched now, your hair plastered in wet clusters, your clothing adhered to your body. You climb onto the piled pieces of wooden slats and rest one hand on the sill, supporting your weight while you shove at the bottom rail, widening the space. It slides silently upward, granting you access to wriggle through, easing in one side of your body at a time. A short drop to the floor brings you inside of Freddy Fazbear’s, the noise of outdoors suddenly muffled as you’re swallowed into the abandoned establishment.

***

There is very little light from outdoors to guide you as you explore the space, deciding it’s some sort of storage area, though the room is completely devoid of anything other than a thick layer of dust that you disturb, sending clouds of it into the air. Another flash of lightning shows you the barred opening of a vent of some sort, the metal slats glinting for a brief moment and then the room grows dim again.

Curiously, there is no door to allow you to exit the space. You run your hands along the walls, completing the circuit. Save the vent and the window, there is no other point of entry or egress.

You hear a rattling sound of something dragging across metal and you freeze, holding your breath.

The screws bolting the cover of the duct into place quiver in their frames, the spiraled bits of steel surrendering to the tremendous force shoving at them. The encasement clatters to the floor and you hear the sound of something being pushed through the opening, straining until it, too, lands with a heavy thud.

You cower near the window, already attempting to pull yourself back up, failing without the added height to assist you. Stupid, so stupid that you’d come here, assuming you’d be able to leave as easily as you’d entered.

“Wait.”

The voice stills your struggling form instantly. The figure takes a step forward and it’s just enough for you to make out the shape of one of the mascots, an imposingly tall being well over seven feet tall. Its eyes flicker like a failing flashlight low on batteries. The rabbit—that’s what it is, you realize—has one ear torn midway through, the suit in a similar state of disrepair, the once golden fur and fabric long since faded and worn away, exposing metal and wires. The purple bow tie decorating its neck is frayed, drooping in twin deflated loops above a pair of black buttons meant to represent formal attire.

You stare at the animatronic, trying to reconcile how this creature is still moving on its own when the lithium that powers it should have been depleted long ago; yet here it stands, no longer programmed to remain onstage to perform, a free entity roaming the building.

The yellow rabbit chuckles softly, the noise emanating from within the headpiece sounding modulated, as if an algorithm is altering the amplitude, pitch, and tone. “I’m not like them, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Your mouth is too dry to form words. You wonder how it is he knows that was exactly what you’d been thinking.

“Why are you here?”

“I was out wandering,” you manage, struggling to find moisture to wet your lips. “It started raining. I just wanted to go someplace dry.”

“Strange that you chose this place.”

“The window was open,” you protest. “I didn’t break anything. I’ll leave right now, I just don’t know how to get out of here. There’s no door.”

The rabbit continues to stare at you. “No, there isn’t.” You hear a deep inhale of breath from the figure. “Stay here a moment longer and speak with me.”

Your hand scrabbles absently at the wall in a futile gesture as if you could somehow claw your way through the solid surface. “About what?”

“Anything you’d like. It’s not often this place gets visitors these days.” The rabbit leans against the wall beside the window, folding his arms.

“I have to go…”

“Go where?”

“Home. My parents are expecting me.”

It’s untrue. Your stepmother is likely out spending your father’s money and he’s probably at the bar.

“Do not lie to me,” the rabbit says. “There is no one waiting for you.”

“How did you…”

The mascot’s head tips back to rest against the wall. “I am something of an expert on deception. Why are you out wandering in this part of town? Surely you’ve heard of this place’s reputation, young as you appear.”

“I was just walking home from school. Just thinking, not really paying attention to where I was going.”

“Thinking about what?”

You shrug uncertainly. “Nothing interesting. I promise,” you add, in case he thinks you are attempting to tell a falsehood again.

“I might find it interesting,” he replies, the headpiece tilting back down so he can study you.

You shake your head. “Everything is going wrong. I just failed my first history exam. I don’t have any friends. My stepmother hates my guts.” The confession spills out of you, the words coming easier once the floodgates have been opened. “I’m not like anyone else. I don’t fit in. I’m lonely,” you finish quietly.

Another deep inhale, as if the creature is absorbing your words. You think the lights of his eyes seem a little brighter now, casting a soft glow over the permanent grin on the rabbit’s face, the rows of teeth glinting dangerously.

“I don’t fit in anywhere either,” the suited person says. “So it appears we have that much in common, at least.” His head tips to one side, the intact ear tapping against the window pane. “The storm is ending.”

You shuffle your feet nervously. “Can I leave now?”

“Are you in such a rush to go to the home where you’re not wanted?”

The words cut cruelly and you look away.

The figure sighs. “Go, then, if that’s what you truly want. I won’t stop you. I’ll even help give you a boost up.” He bends, the steel encased hands now laced together to form a step for you. You place a foot there and he lifts you easily, allowing you to reach the sill and begin extracting yourself, one leg hooked over the edge, your torso bending to pass through the opening. Cool, moist air passes over your exposed limbs, reminding you that you’re soaking wet and night is approaching.

You hesitate, feeling the rabbit watching you. “How will you get out? Can you climb back the way you came, or…?”

He chuckles softly. “I was never trapped to begin with. But it’s kind of you to be concerned for a stranger’s well being. If you return, I’ll make your entrance easier next time and open the front door.”

“Return?” You blink at the invitation. “Why would I…”

“If you decide you want company the next time you get lonely. I’m a good listener.”

“Alright. Goodbye.” You don’t want to commit to anything but you also don’t want to risk the odd individual’s ire.

You can see him nod, his eyes glimmering in the strange, forgotten space, watching as you finish extricating yourself from the opening.

Outside, you’re grateful for the fresh air supply, for an escape from the musty scent of the vacant room and its bizarre occupant. You keep to the lit streets on your way home and once there change into warm pajamas and pull a duvet around you, a notebook resting on your lap. With your thoughts already given to another, you find there is nothing left to write about and the lined page remains blank.

Chapter 3 ~ sweet tooth ~

William Afton leaves the new mayor of Hurricane’s office with a smile on his face.

A major part of his electoral campaign had been focused on the promise of a renewal for the city that included renovation and rebuilding, cleaning up the vacant part of town and restoring the area to what it once was.

It was the perfect opportunity to lobby for reopening Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria.

There would still be protests of course; it was inevitable given the history of the restaurant. But with this new blood in office, with a new identity to hide behind, with a new generation that didn’t know any better, it was a chance to begin again.

Sliding into the dark vintage luxury sedan parked along the curb outside the office, he reaches for the lollipop tucked into his shirt pocket. His sweet tooth has gotten worse as he’s advanced in age, the constant craving for sugar driving him to consume it as frequently as possible. He pulls the plastic wrapper free and settles the red candy ball on his tongue, sucking until the treat surrenders, releasing a burst of cherry flavor into his mouth. It mingles with his saliva and he hums in satisfaction, withdrawing it with a loud pop and swallowing the syrup down before replacing it once more between his lips.

Adjusting the rear view mirror, the man eases out of the parking spot and merges smoothly into downtown traffic which is light at this time of day. The stack of flyers on the seat beside him slide on the vinyl and he automatically reaches out a hand to trap them in place.

The public high school is a short distance away, the bulletin board outside the guidance office near the main entrance. It’s littered with postings, a few of which he tears free and crumples in one fist before tacking his own onto the cork board.

He tosses the ruined papers he’s holding into the wastebin as he turns and leaves, tucking his hands deep into his pockets. He exits the building, long legs making short work of the cement stairs, humming faintly under his breath.

***

You never really pay much attention to the job postings at school.

Yet today it’s impossible to ignore the brightly colored flyer whose bottom edge lifts in the breeze of the passing students, the strips of paper with a phone number fluttering in their wake. You slow down, looking at the advertisement, blinking in surprise when you realize it’s an announcement that Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria is reopening under new management and is seeking ‘motivated individuals’ to help with the project both before and after its completion.

You think of the yellow rabbit lurking in the depths of that place and you shiver. You’re still not even certain it had really happened; if it hadn’t just been some wild imagining your brain had conjured up, a dream that had felt a little too real. Imaginary or not, as odd and unnerving as the encounter had been, you couldn’t help but admit there’d been something strangely charismatic about the stranger. He was so easy to talk to. The fact that he was an outsider too gave you the sense of kinship.

You shake your head, silently reprimanding yourself. It was ridiculous. You weren’t about to make friends with a strange man that may or may not even exist wearing a decaying mascot costume hanging out in some abandoned restaurant. Even you aren’t that pathetic and desperate.

Still you hesitate, staring at the announcement until you find yourself tearing one of the slips of paper free, tucking it into the pocket of your jeans.

There is no thoughtful lingering walk home that afternoon.

You head directly to your house, sighing with relief that another school day’s behind you as you enter your bedroom, tossing your backpack on the bed and sitting down beside it. You toe off your sneakers and cross your legs beneath you, debating about whether you feel like raiding the kitchen for a snack when you remember the paper you’d shoved into your pocket earlier.

It takes you a moment to find it, leaning back slightly and rummaging around in the confined space, digging until you realize it’s been creased tightly against the seam. You pull the phone beside your bed into your lap and hesitate once again, thinking of flickering lamp eyes in the darkness.

Before you lose your nerve you dial the number, a man’s voice answering on the second ring.

“Steve Raglan’s office. Can I help you?”

His voice is an odd mix of rust and nasal whine, overly cheerful.

“Uh, yeah. I got this number from a flyer at my school. It’s about the jobs at Freddy’s.”

The career counselor’s tone shifts an octave lower, a rough grate of noise that sounds pleased. “Excellent. We’ll be holding interviews this week. Was there anything in particular you wanted to be involved with?”

“No, not really.” You wind the phone cord around your index finger, straightening out the tight coil briefly before it resumes its previous shape, hugging the digit firmly.

“Well, we’d love to have you come down and tell you more about the opportunities available. What day works for you?”

“Um, any afternoon is fine, really.”

“Great. Flexibility is something the owner really appreciates. How does Wednesday sound to you? Three o’clock?”

“Sure, that works.” You give the man your contact information.

“We look forward to seeing you then.” There’s a soft sound like a hum of amusement and then the line is disconnected, the dial tone loud in your ear.

[justagalwhowrites]

Lavender - Ch. 7

You realize something major just as the world ends. A continuation of Lavender Ch. 1-6, found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Length: 6k

Warnings: TLOU Canon-typical violence, attempted suicide, mention of sex. No use of Y/N. Overall fic is 18+ Minors DNI

A/N: Y'all, this is the outbreak chapter. Apologies in advance.

Tuesday, September 2, 2003 

You’d been throwing up enough the last few days that you knew the signs. When your stomach started turning on your drive to work, you groaned. 

“Goddammit,” you muttered, spotting a Walgreens on the corner. They’d have a bathroom. And maybe something you could use to kick this stupid stomach bug. You parked and all but sprinted for the bathroom, knocking once on the door before yanking it open. You barely made it to the toilet, throwing up everything you’d managed to eat that morning. Not that much sounded good. It had been a struggle finding anything worth trying to eat every day since you either got food poisoning or caught the stomach flu or whatever the hell was going on. 

Once you were sure it had passed, you sat back on your heels, groaning. This was getting so old. You rinsed your mouth out in the sink and ventured down the aisles of the store, grabbing a travel container of Listerine before going to the pharmacy counter. 

“Can I help you?” The cheery woman in a white coat said. 

“I hope so,” you smiled sheepishly. “I don’t know what’s been going on with me but I either got some crazy food poisoning or caught some stomach bug, I’ve been doing nothing but throw up for three days. I’ve tried Pepto, I’ve tried Dramamine, I’m hoping you have another idea…” 

“Could you be pregnant?” She asked, her eyebrows drawing together in a slight frown. 

“No,” you laughed and then paused, doing the math. 

You hadn’t had your period since June. That wasn’t super odd for you, you’d never been particularly regular. Some months it just didn’t show up. But it’s not like you’d been having tons of crazy sex since you got dumped last month… You’d just had lots of crazy sex when you’d last seen Joel seven weeks ago. Like the time in the pool the morning you flew home, where he came so deep inside you it felt almost impossible. Your hand drifted to your lower stomach. 

“Pregnancy tests are on aisle eight,” she pointed, giving you a sad half smile. You just nodded, leaving the Listerine on the counter and walking in a daze for the tests. You almost blindly grabbed a pack. There was a smiling woman on the package, like that positive test was the best thing had ever happened to her. You carried it back to the pharmacy counter. 

“I’m sorry,” you said, still dazed. “Can I buy these here? Even though I’m not getting a prescription?” 

“No problem,” she scanned the tests and the Listerine and you paid before walking to the bathroom. You weren’t sure when you’d last blinked. 

You peed on the stick, washed your hands and paced, checking your watch every few seconds as if that would make time go faster. But when the time was up, you didn’t want to pick up the test and see the result. Didn’t want to know what the answer was, like you’d rather not know a damn thing and then deal with whatever comes when it comes. 

You picked up the test. 

Two pink lines. 

“Oh God.” 

You didn’t remember driving to work. You didn’t really remember walking in, either. The first thing you were aware of was stopping at Louisa’s classroom door, poking your head in as she set up for her first class of the year. 

“When’s your planning period?” You asked. 

“Third,” she said. “Same as last year.” 

“Good,” you said. “I’m coming by.” 

“Not a great day for it,” she said absently. “I’ve got so much crap to do…” 

“Louisa,” you said, pleading. She looked up at you and frowned. 

“Yeah, OK,” she nodded. “See you third period.” 

You were on autopilot the first two periods. You doubted you’d be able to pick any of your students out of a lineup your mind was so full of other things. 

Pregnant. You were pregnant. In 15 years you’d have a kid this age. Oh God, you were going to have a kid. Were you going to have a kid? Were you going to do this alone? 

You didn’t even knock on Louisa’s door at the start of third period, just letting yourself in and closing it behind you. 

“So what’s so urgent?” She said, sitting at a lab table and cracking open a Diet Coke. “You look like death.” 

You wordlessly pulled the Walgreens bag from your purse, getting the test out and setting it on the plastic. 

“Oh fuck,” Louisa stared at it for a second, her mouth hanging open. 

“Yeah.” 

“Oh Honey,” she leaned forward and hugged you. It took you a moment to hug her back. She sat back down. You still felt numb. “When did you find out?” 

“This morning,” you said, staring straight ahead. “I kept getting sick, went to a pharmacy to see what I could get, they asked if I was pregnant and…” 

“It didn’t occur to you otherwise?” She asked, brows raised. “Hon, you teach bio. You’re getting ready to go to med school.” 

“I know, I’m a fucking idiot,” you groaned. “I don’t know how this happened…” 

“Please tell me this is the product of some fling you had that you never told me about and not the guy who broke your heart so bad you were basically catatonic for a week,” she said. 

“Cute that you think I’m capable of having a fling,” you muttered. She groaned. “I know. This is the worst case scenario, I don’t know what the hell to do…” 

“Do you know if you want to keep it or not yet?” She asked gently. 

“I don’t know,” your hand drifted to your lower stomach again. “You’re a single parent, what do you think I should do?” 

“I can’t answer that for you, Hon,” she covered the hand that was resting on the table with hers. “First of all, I was 29 when I got pregnant and happily married - or so I thought. Yeah, my husband was screwing around on me but I was none the wiser then. You’re, what, 23?” 

“I’m 24,” you stared at her hand on yours. 

“You’re basically a kid yourself,” she said. You snorted. Kid. Joel’d always seen you as a kid, even after years together. “And you’d be on your own from the get go. That’s a lot to consider.” 

You just nodded slowly. 

“Have you told the asshole?” She asked. 

“Can you not call him that?” You frowned. 

“He broke my friend’s heart, I should call him a lot worse,” she said. “But fine. Because of your delicate condition…” you smiled and she smiled back. “Have you told Joel?” 

“No,” you said. “And I don’t know that I should. Ever. Even if I decide to keep it.” 

“You’d really keep his child a secret from him?” She frowned. “Honey…” 

“He’s just…” you felt like you were about to cry. “He’s the most dedicated father on the planet. The second I told him he’d uproot his whole life. All for something he doesn’t want. He already gave up everything once for a kid he didn’t plan for, I’m not going to make him do that again. He doesn’t want me, I’m not going to force it on him. I live far enough away now, I could never see him again. It’d be easy to never see him again, he’d never have to know.” 

You looked down to the hand against your stomach, covering the place where part of him was growing inside you. 

Part of you loved the idea of having a piece of him with you forever. But it seemed cruel, putting that on a child. And bringing a child into the world without their father’s knowledge. 

“Fuck,” you sighed. 

“I’ll support you, whatever you decide to do,” she said. “Want a clinic ride? I’ve got your back. Want tips on getting a crying baby to quiet down? I’ve got those. It’ll be OK. Whatever route you choose, it’ll be OK.” 

Thursday, September 25, 2003 

“That’s really still all you can eat,” Jessica, Louisa’s 13-year-old daughter was leaning across her mother’s kitchen counter at you. You broke off another piece of Clif bar and popped it in your mouth. 

“Unfortunately yes,” you said. “Don’t get knocked up, it’s no fun.” 

She cocked her head. “Can I try one?” She asked. You made a face. 

“Why.” 

She shrugged. 

“It looks good,” she said. You looked at her skeptically. “You make it look like it would be good. Because you’re so pretty.” 

You narrowed your eyes. 

“What do you want.” 

“Can you get my mom to let me go to a party tomorrow?” She asked quickly. “Everyone’s going…” 

“You can’t go,” Louisa cut her daughter off. “Stop trying to get your aunt to help butter me up, it won’t work.” 

“Mom,” she groaned, dragging the word out. “Please! I’ll clean the house for a month!” 

“Gotta put in that work beforehand,” she shook her head. “Not happening.” 

“Ugh!” Jessica stomped off to her room and slammed the door. Louisa sighed. 

“See what you’ve got to look forward to?” She muttered. 

“Counting the days,” you broke off another piece of Clif bar. 

“Know if you’re telling him or not?” She asked, sitting next to you at the breakfast bar. You sighed. 

“I’m leaning towards telling him,” you said. “It doesn’t feel right to have his kid and have him not know about it.” 

“It would be a rough situation,” she nodded. “I think telling him is right. He should know there’s a little human that’s half his wandering around out in the world.” 

“Did I tell you my friend Cassie from college got engaged?” You asked. She shook her head. “Well, she did. To the guy she’s been dating for less than a year. I probably should have figured this wasn’t going to stick when we were still just dating after three years… Anyway. Her engagement party is in October in Austin. I was thinking I could fly down, I shouldn’t be showing much yet. Could always just wear a flowy dress or something. See if he’ll talk to me and decide then.” 

“That will give you a bit more time to think,” she said. 

“I’ll have time to come up with a plan,” you nodded slowly. “That’s what I really need before I have this conversation. A plan for him to not need to be involved. We can play pass the baby once they’re old enough if he wants, ship them across the country to visit Dad for the summer. Alternate Christmases. But I’ll have a plan so that he doesn’t need to do anything. No child support, no obligation to me, nothing.” 

You sighed, taking a sip of water. 

“You know what really sucks about all this?” You asked. 

“What?” She said. 

“I really fucking need a glass of wine.” 

Louisa barked a laugh. 

“Yeah,” she said. “You really do.” 

“His birthday’s tomorrow,” you said, staring at the wall. “Think I’ll text him. See if he’d be OK seeing me in October.” 

“Have you talked to him since…” 

“Nope,” you ate the last of the Clif bar. “Not a word.” 

“Fucker,” she muttered. 

“It’s a clean break,” you shrugged. “He wanted out. I don’t blame him.” 

Louisa sighed. 

“I’m sorry you’re going through this but I think you’ll be happy this way,” she said eventually. “You’re going to be the fucking best mom. And for all the asshole’s…” 

“Joel’s,” you interrupted her. 

“For all Joel’s faults,” she corrected herself. “He will be a devoted dad. Even from afar.” 

You leaned your head on her shoulder. 

“I know you’re right,” you sighed. 

“You’ll get there, Kid,” she said. You smiled a little. You’d never told her what Joel used to call you. It still made you happy to hear it. “You’ll get there.” 

Friday, September 26, 2003 

It was a nice night. The air was cool, crisp. Cool enough that you’d thrown on a sweatshirt before going to lay in the grass in your grandmother’s back yard. 

You couldn’t be happier that the week was over. Pregnancy was exhausting, you were tired all the time and the steady diet of nothing but Clif bars had gotten old really fast - though it was better than the constant vomiting. The cashier at the camping store in town had looked at you like you were crazy when you’d ordered several hundred of the damn things but, at a certain point, you were tired of going to the store for the same stupid thing every week when they had the half life of plutonium. You’d just picked up your stash earlier in the week and you’d been rotating through the flavors, pretending that made it so you were eating something different. 

When you’d had lunch with Louisa that day, she told you she’d caved and told Jessica she could go to the party. Jessica was giddy. But Louisa had texted you just after you got outside, asking if you could watch for a text from Jessica if she needed anything later. She wasn’t feeling well, needed to lie down.

Something was probably going around. Nan had gone to bed early herself, complaining of a headache and just generally not feeling well. You were giving it until Monday, then you would call her oncologist. See if the cancer was back. Fuck, you hoped it wasn’t back. But you’d just have to cross that bridge… 

You’d managed to text Joel earlier, too. It had gone better than you’d expected. You wrote and deleted the text four times before you sent it. “Happy birthday! Hope you’re doing well, old man.” You just hoped he’d respond, give you an in to see if he’d meet you in October. He replied almost instantly. 

“Thanks, Kid. Hanging in there. How’s life up north?” 

You hesitated. You didn’t want to look too eager. 

“Not bad. Already ready for the school year to be done. How’s Sarah?” 

He replied quickly again. 

“Good. Loves her classes so far. Made me eggs with shells for breakfast.” 

You laughed. 

“Crunchy. Cassie got engaged. I was thinking of coming down for the party in October. Would you want to get coffee?” 

There was a longer pause this time, but he eventually replied. 

“How about dinner?” 

You smiled. You doubted you’d be able to eat much but dinner with Joel sounded like heaven. 

“Dinner works! I’ll let you know when I know details. Try not to break a hip, old man.” 

“Take care of yourself, Kid.” 

The sky was clear and wide and you wished you knew more about the constellations. You knew the big dipper and the north star, but otherwise were at a loss. You tried to invent new ones when the soft sounds of crickets and the breeze was broken by the roar of jet engines. Two small planes streaked overhead, flying low. You frowned, sitting up and turning to watch them. 

They looked… military? Like something out of “Top Gun.” Which didn’t make any sense, you’d never seen planes like that near you. They disappeared from view and you were about to lie back down when the scream of engines returned. This time, there was a huge plane, flying lower than you were used to seeing. You could see the red, white and blue paint on the side. The smaller jets flew alongside it for a moment before falling back and you saw something launch from one of the smaller planes, streaking across the sky until it collided with the bigger plane, exploding on impact and sending the bigger plane crashing to the Earth. 

“Oh my God!” 

You didn’t remember standing up but you were on your feet, running toward where the plane would come down. The smaller jets tore off, engines roaring, and you felt as the larger plane hit the ground, the force of the impact shaking the Earth and knocking you down. The plane landed in the field of the lavender farm, an orange fireball casting the farmhouse in a ghoulish silhouette. 

You just stared for a second. It didn’t make sense. Why would fighter jets shoot down a fucking passenger plane? Would anyone have survived? Was there anything you could do? Was there another terrorist attack, were people crashing planes into buildings again, was that why? 

Your hands shook as you went for your phone, just staring. You were fumbling with it, trying to open it to call 911 when the screen lit up. It was Joel. You managed to answer. 

“Joel?” Your voice shook. 

“Baby,” he sounded frantic. “Thank fuck, are you OK?” 

How did he know? It couldn’t be on the news yet, how could he know? 

“I’m OK,” you said. You were in a daze. There was so much fire… “What’s happening? I was outside, there were jets… they shot down a fucking plane, Joel, are we under attack?” 

“Has anyone tried to hurt you?” 

You tried to make sense of the question. Aside from almost having a plane shot down on your head? 

“No,” you said. “Joel, what’s happening, why are you asking me that?” 

“Somethin’s happening,” he said quickly. “I don’t know what the fuck it is but people are going crazy, one of the Adlers just tried to kill Sarah…” 

“What!” You screamed it. “Is she…” 

“She’s OK. But they’re not the only ones, there’s somethin’ happening,” he said. “Baby, I need you to listen to me, do exactly what I tell you, OK?” 

“Joel…” 

“Remember all the gear we got for our hiking trip last year?” He asked. You just nodded for a moment before you remembered that you’d need to talk. 

“Yeah,” you said. “Yeah, I remember.” 

“Good,” he said. “Go get that. All of it, pack your backpack and only take what you need to survive. Get food you can live off of for a bit. Your grandma still have that shotgun?” 

“Yes,” you were still watching the plane burn. 

“Good,” he said again. “Get that, too. And all the ammunition. Car have gas?” 

“Yes.” 

“Good. Try to make sure you can carry everything you need and have it ready to go but load your car. Try to get to Martha’s Vineyard, OK?” “Martha’s… why?” 

“Sounds like it might just be the cities,” he said quickly. “Get there. Far enough from the cities but enough rich people that they’ll keep it safe. I’ll come get you, OK? I’m coming to get you.” 

“Joel,” your voice broke. 

“You kill anyone who comes near you, you hear me?” He said. “It’s going to come down to you livin’ or them, make sure it’s you.” 

“I can’t just kill people, Joel…” 

“Yes you can, Baby,” he sounded so desperate. “Yes you can. Protect yourself, keep yourself safe, that’s all that matters. I’ve got Sarah and Tommy, we’re coming to get you. I love you. I love you so much, don’t let anyone take you from me, do you understand?” 

“I love you too,” you breathed. 

“I’m coming to get you, Baby,” he said. “Stay safe. Please, please, Baby, stay safe.” 

“Dad!” You could barely hear Sarah’s shriek before the call dropped. 

“Joel?” You knew it was useless but you yelled into the phone anyway. “Joel!” 

You tried to call again but just got the dissonant sound of a call failing to connect. 

“Martha’s Vineyard,” you said to yourself, forcing yourself to run for your house. “Martha’s Vineyard.” 

You went to the basement and found all the gear from your hiking trip, packing it as quickly as you could while keeping things somewhat organized. You still had a fair bit of room left in the large hiking pack when you lugged it up to the kitchen. You grabbed all the Clif bars plus some of the protein drinks your grandmother’s doctors had told her to drink. You grabbed water, too. 

“Nan!” You yelled, tucking the shotgun below your arm as you headed upstairs. “You awake?” 

You were sure she was, there’s no way she slept through the plane crash. 

“We have to go, Nan,” you called as you went to your room, grabbing a few pairs of clean underwear, socks and a waterproof jacket. There was still a bit of room in your pack, so you grabbed your quilt off your bed. You could always ditch it if you absolutely needed to later, but for now you had the space and you wanted it with you. You pulled the pictures you had of you, Joel and Sarah from their frames and stashed them in a pocket on the pack. You grabbed your favorites of you and your grandmother, too, and the one you had of you and Becca. You grabbed your phone charger. 

“Nan?” You took one last look around your room, hoping you’d see it again. You weren’t so sure you would. There was a scraping sound behind you and you turned. Your grandmother stood in the doorway but she didn’t look quite right. Her head was cocked, her arms dangling. Her eyes looked dead. 

“Nan?” You frowned, walking over to her. “Are you feeling OK? We have to go…”

You never had the chance to offer to pack her a bag. A horrific snarl ripped from her throat and she lunged for you, fingers reaching and grasping. 

“Nan!” You caught her by the shoulders, her teeth bared. “Nan, stop it’s me!” 

Her nails dragged down your neck, ripping through skin. She pulled back from you just enough to launch herself at you again, knocking you prone. “Nan!” 

It was like something else had taken over her body, her clawing hands and gnashing teeth straining to reach you. “Nan, please!” 

You shoved her as hard as you could, sending her slamming into your dresser. She hit her head, blood splattering on the flowers you’d painted on the drawer fronts. You scrambled to your feet, grabbing the pack and slinging it on your back before picking up the gun. You tried to back out of the room, not wanting to turn your back on your grandmother. She snarled and rose onto all fours, pulling herself toward you. 

Time slowed and you heard Joel’s voice in your head. “Don’t let anyone take you from me.” His child was inside you. He was coming for you. You had to live to get to him. 

You raised the gun and fired, the recoil sending you stumbling back as your grandmother’s body flew away from you with the force of the blast. She lay sprawled on the ground, a horrible screaming sound all but deafening you. It took you a moment to realize that it was you making the sound, a choking sob cutting it off. You aimed the gun at the ground, cautiously approaching her, hoping that the blast had somehow killed whatever has possessed her but left her intact. Your shot had caught her in the chest, a gaping hole in her rib cage. You dropped to your knees beside her body, her eyes staring emptily up at the ceiling. 

“I’m so sorry Nan,” you choked out, smoothing her hair back. “I’m so sorry, I love you, I’m so sorry…”

You almost didn’t see it through your tears, the creeping, fibrous tentacle sliding through her lips. You scrambled back, gasping for breath through rasping sobs as it reached and groped. You forced yourself to your feet and staggered from the room, feeling almost drunk. 

It almost didn’t feel like you were safe to drive but you had to keep moving. You grabbed your keys, leaning on the counter in the kitchen for support, and stumbled into your driveway. Another fighter jet shrieked overhead and you instinctively ducked, but no other planes fell out of the sky. The horizon still burned, the air smelling like smoke. You put your bag in the back seat and the shotgun in the passenger seat, some extra ammo tucked in your pockets. You took a second and reloaded the gun, holding the wheel for a moment. You had no fucking clue how to get to Martha’s Vineyard and the only maps in your car were for New York State and NYC. Just as you were trying to come up with a plan, your phone rang. 

“Joel?” You said quickly. 

“It’s Jessica,” she was sobbing. “My mom, there’s something wrong with my mom, I don’t know…” 

“Get out of the house,” you said quickly. “I’ll come get you, don’t touch her don’t try to help her, just run! I’m coming to get you, just run Jessica, do you hear me?” 

“OK,” she said, breathless. “Don’t leave me…”

“Not leaving you,” you said. “Just hanging up for now. Avoid people, avoid anyone who isn’t me. I’m coming for you.” 

You were almost thankful for a direction to go in. You had to get away from your house, from your grandmother’s body and the thing inside it, from what you’d done there. Jessica was a place to go, a purpose. You drove fast. 

Louisa and Jessica’s place was a townhouse and the area around it was chaos. Several cars had crashed near the entrance to the neighborhood and one was burning. People were scrambling to load cars. One man was boarding up his windows with a rifle strapped to his back. As you got closer to Louisa and Jessica’s unit, there were bodies, splayed on the ground in unnatural positions. You parked haphazardly in front of their place, grabbing the shotgun and locking the doors as you left the car. 

“Jessica!” You yelled, gun up and ready to fire. “It’s me, where are you?” 

There was an inhuman shriek from behind you and you spun, gun up. A woman who looked vaguely familiar - you were pretty sure you’d seen her walking her dog when you sat on Louisa’s porch with a beer in your hand - was running for you, her arms outstretched. You didn’t hesitate this time, aiming for her stomach, the shot knocking you off balance and sending you stumbling back over a body on the ground behind you. You fell but the woman did too, her going immediately still. You shook, breathless, staring at her. You’d killed her. Your hand went to your lower stomach. You’d killed her. She might have been gone before you shot her but you’d killed her. 

You leaned over and threw up, what little you’d eaten that day coming up. 

“What’s happening?” 

You looked behind you. Jessica was shaking. There were scratches and blood on her knees and it looked like Louisa had gotten her the same way your grandmother had gotten you, long scratches that looked like they were from a human hand down her arm. 

“Hey,” you tried to smile reassuringly and then remembered that you’d tripped over a dead body. You scrambled back. 

“My mom…” her eyes were wide, wild. 

“I’m sorry, Jessica,” you said softly as you got to your feet. You brushed her hair back, holding her face in your hands. “I’m so sorry but she’s gone, whatever is inside your house isn’t your mom anymore.” 

“What?” Her eyes went wider, she started hyperventilating. 

“I know,” you said, trying to keep your voice calm. “I know. But I have a plan, OK? And part of the plan is getting out of here. You and me. We’re going to get through this.” 

She just nodded, still gasping for breath. You put an arm around her, the gun in your other hand, watching for whatever might come running for you. But nothing did. You made it back to the car without an issue, putting Jessica in the passenger seat. You reloaded the gun and grabbed the compass from the side pocket of the backpack, giving both to Jessica. 

“Just keep the gun handy, OK?” You said. “Don’t shoot anyone, just give it to me when I ask you for it, OK?” 

“OK,” she nodded quickly. 

“The compass is going to be what I need you for most,” you said, driving slowly back the way you came through the neighborhood. “I don’t have a map for where we’re headed. I can get us there but I’ll need some help navigating.” 

“Where are we going?” She asked. 

“An island,” you said. “Where there’s hopefully less of… whatever this is. We’re meeting Joel there.” 

“Joel?” She looked at you. “The guy my mom says is a douchebag?” 

You laughed a little even though there was nothing funny about this situation. But Jessica reminded you of her mom and it was what you needed. 

“He’s not. Well, he’s not all the time,” you said. You passed the burning cars, pulling slowly onto the main road. “What matters is, I’m going to keep you safe. OK?” 

“OK,” she nodded, swallowing hard. 

You immediately went for the back country roads, hoping there would be fewer burning cars and possessed people. And there were, for about an hour. It was almost eerily quiet, you driving slow with just the running lights, wanting to avoid drawing attention to yourselves. But as you got closer to another town, you heard the faint sound of a helicopter. You pulled off the road and shut off the car. 

“Stay put,” you ordered Jessica. 

“What’s going on?” She asked. 

“I don’t know what that helicopter is doing here and I don’t want to find out,” you said. “So we’re just going to lay low.” 

“But what if they could help?” 

You shook your head. 

“We can’t afford to trust them,” you said. “We don’t know who they are or what their job here is…” 

As if on cue, there was a spray of gunfire down the middle of the road, the chopper flying overhead. You ducked down low, grabbing Jessica and tucking her head down, too. You heard bullets hit your trunk and glass break behind you. Jessica sobbed. You held her down until the helicopter left, trying to not hyperventilate. “Don’t let anyone take you from me.”

You tried to start the car again but the engine wouldn’t turn over. You realized it must have been shot. It was sheer luck that you’d been missed. You pulled your sweatshirt over your head and handed it to Jessica. She just looked at it. 

“It’s chilly,” you said. “You dressed for a party tonight, not to go traipsing through the country side. We’ll find something that fits you tomorrow but for now, you’ll need this.” 

She took it, holding it in her hands for a moment, staring down at it. 

“Whose blood is it?” She asked. “I saw it, earlier, when you picked me up. Whose blood is it?” 

You hadn’t even realized there’d been blood on it. 

“Probably my grandmother’s,” you said softly. “She… She was like your mom.” 

She nodded, pulling it on. While she did, you tried calling Joel one more time. It wouldn’t connect. 

You got your backpack out of the car and clung to the gun. 

“We’re going to get through this,” you said, as much to convince yourself as it was to convince her. “We’ve got this.” 

She nodded at you. You took a deep breath. 

“Let’s go.” 

***

Saturday, September 27, 2003

The sun was up. It didn’t feel right that the sun was up. How could the sun be up. 

“Joel.” 

Tommy’s voice felt very far away. Everything felt very far way. 

“Joel, we have to keep moving,” he said. “C’mon. If we stay here much longer, trouble’s gonna find us, we have to go.” 

He got up. Part of him was aware that his body hurt but it was hard to actually feel it. Any pain in his body was a relief. It was better than burning, stabbing, gaping wound at the center of him. Anything, anything to take away from that was a blessing. 

They’d already passed dozens of bodies. They kept off the highway, sticking to tree lines where they could, Tommy’s head on a swivel when they couldn’t. 

Joel couldn’t bring himself to care enough to watch for anything. Every body they passed was a reminder. Sarah was gone. He’d held her body, she was gone, he’d never hear her or see her or touch her again. He’d been right there, right there and he couldn’t save her. She was gone. 

The dead made him think of you, too. There were so many bodies. He hadn’t been able to save Sarah. There had been no one there to save you. 

You were a lot of things. Brilliant. Funny. Beautiful. You weren’t a killer. You were too kind, too sweet to survive something like this. You’d have taken pity on someone who turned on you, someone who slit your throat for your pack or shot you to take your car. Or you wouldn’t be able to hurt someone who came at you in that foreign, inhuman way. You’d wait a second too long and they’d rip you to pieces. God, he hoped it had been quick for you. He hoped that they’d just killed you and hadn’t done worse to you first, just because they could. Whatever had gotten you, he hoped you hadn’t felt it. That it hadn’t been like Sarah, gasping and choking and in pain. 

“Joel.” 

He wasn’t sure how long they’d been walking. The sun was low in the sky again. 

“We should stop here,” Tommy said. “Good vantage points…” 

Joel didn’t say anything. He just stood there. 

“You hear me?” Tommy said. 

“What?” Joel asked. 

“I said stay here,” he said. “Saw something down that hill, looked like a truck for a grocery store. I’m going to see if I can grab some food for us.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Joel.” 

He looked up. Tommy looked like he was in pain. 

“Just sit tight, OK?” He said. “Just sit tight.” 

Joel watched him leave, standing and staring at nothing. 

There was nothing left for him here. Nothing. Without Sarah, without you, it wasn’t worth it. Life before whatever was happening wasn’t worth it without Sarah, without you. Now? How could it be. 

He sniffed and pulled out his gun. 

He thought, for a moment, about the last time the three of you had been all together. It was the day you flew back to New York. The two of you had woken up early, decided to have coffee by the pool, go for a swim before Sarah woke up for the day. She was a teenager, she slept late. He made love to you in the water. You tasted like coffee and cherry chapstick. You smelled like lavender, even with the chlorine. You were soft and warm and felt like home.

When Sarah got up, you and Joel had already dressed for the day. Your bags were by the door. Sarah asked if you’d make French Toast and you’d agreed, as long as she helped. He watched the two of you in the kitchen, Sarah picking egg shells out from the batter because she’d never quite gotten the hang of cracking eggs. She was singing some pop song that grated on Joel whenever it came on the radio but he liked it when Sarah sang it. You bobbed your head along to it, using the spatula as a drumstick on the stove top. The coffee was hot and smooth. The world felt right. 

He held onto the moment in his mind, pressing the gun against his head. He wasn’t sure he believed in an afterlife but he hoped it would be like that. Just that one morning, on loop, over and over and over again. Just him and Sarah and you, until the end of all things. 

He started pulling the trigger when he heard your voice, so clear it was like you were standing next to him. 

“I’ll always love you, Joel. Til the day I die.” 

He flinched. 

[topguncortez]

The Professor | Chapter 2

previous part | masterlist | next part

synopsis: You agree to help Professor Seresin with his English 1 class. He invites you over to work on grading, and it does not go as planned

word count: 3.7k

warnings: age gap, power imbalance, suggestive language, kissing

Your eyes were straining as you tried to stay awake to grade these papers. You had been working for Professor Seresin, or Jake as he preferred for you to call him, and you were starting to regret it. You thought that you were doing something to benefit you and your grade in his class, but it was starting to feel like the wrong decision. You blindly reached for your third red bull in what seemed to be like the past three hours. Papers were scattered all over the table in the study room of the library you had basically started living in. You knew the librarians, having worked there the past semester, and they always made sure to have your favorite study room open for you. 

“You’re here late,” You jumped and looked up seeing Jake standing in the doorway of the room. He looked you up and down, taking in the sight of the messy bun, the oversized sweatpants and the oversized sweatshirt on your frame. You had kicked off your shoes about an hour into camping out in the study room. 

“Yeah, trying to get through all these thesis statement assignments. Hey, ever believe in turning in things electronically?” You asked him, pushing the glasses up on your nose. 

“No.” 

“Killing a lot of trees, Professor Seresin,” You sighed and placed the paper down on the desk, writing a note on top of it in red pen. You hated red pens, usually choosing blue, but Jake loved the color red probably because it ignited fear into his students. 

“It’s Jake, I told you that,” He said, and stepped into the room. He picked up the paper you had just written on and read it over, “And you say I’m a harsh grader, I would’ve at least given a point higher.” You chuckled and picked up the next one. He hovered over your shoulder, which made you a bit nervous as you read through the assignment. 

“Can I help you?” You asked him. 

“Have you eaten?” He asked, and looked around at cans of red bull and paper coffee cups on the table. 

“Yeah. I had a granola bar an hour ago,” You answered, still trying to ignore his presence and read through this assignment in your hands. 

“Something of sustenance,” Jake rolled his eyes. 

“I’m sorry Mister Big Time English Professor,” You put the paper down and turned to face him. You were painfully aware of your position as he looked down at you. You finally got a good look at him. He was dressed casually which was a different look for you to see him. He was wearing a plain black t-shirt, gray sweatpants and runners. You could see the muscles in his arms as he crossed his arms over his chest, “But I can’t afford to go grocery shopping all the time on a college student’s budget. So yes, I had an apple cinnamon granola bar and it was very filling.” 

Jake sighed, “Let’s go.” 

“Go where?” 

“To get you something to eat. Can’t have my teaching assistant dropping dead from grading thesis papers. It’s a bad look on me.” 

“And the fact that your drop out rate for English 450 is nearly forty-seven percent?” 

Jake just shrugged, “You want a free meal or not?” 

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” 

You packed up all the papers you were working on, and followed Jake out of the library. You said goodnight to the librarians and they smiled at you. You had thought Jake was just going to take you to get something to eat on campus, but when he walked you to his car you froze. 

“This isn’t the part where you take me home and murder me, right? I’ve seen almost every Ted-” 

“Ted Bundy wouldn’t want to murder you. . . you talk too much,” Jake said, and unlocked the door to his black range rover. Of course he would have a range rover, you thought to yourself, “Listen, we don’t have to go get something to eat. At least let me drive you home. It’s dark, and you’re-” 

“A female?” 

“A pretty female. . . who looks to be about 80 pounds soaking wet.” 

“I can put up a pretty good fight.” 

Jake once again looked you up and down, taking note of the unicorn socks and bright blue crocs you wore on your feet. He chuckled to himself and shook his head, walking to the passenger side of the car. You stood defiantly and crossed your arms over your chest.

“Get in the car,” Jake sighed.

“Make me,” You said. You could swear there was a flash in Jake’s eyes as he contemplated putting you in the car but instead, He opened the door, and waited for you to get int.

There were several moments of awkward silence before you threw all caution to the wind, you got in the passenger seat. He shut the door and walked around to the other side, climbing inside the vehicle. You two sat in silence as he started it up, and pulled out of the parking lot. Campus was near dead at nearly 1AM, so it was a breeze to drive through without having to dodge students. You looked out the window at Campus Town as Jake drove down the street. You perked up as he pulled into the parking lot of a small cafe. 

“Coffee? This late?” You asked. 

“This place has the best bagels I’ve ever had on the east coast,” He said and put the car in park. You both got out of the car and walked into the cafe. The scent of coffee and fresh baked goods filled your nose, and you sighed in content. Jake put a hand on your back, gently leading you up to the counter to order, “What do you want?” 

“Uh. . . surprise me. No coffee though, I think I have enough caffeine in me to run a marathon.” 

“Go find a place to sit.” You nodded and scanned the near empty cafe for a spot. You found a booth in the corner that looked inviting. You sat down, and pulled your phone out, scrolling through the hours of missed social media posts. Lucy had texted you that she was studying at her boyfriend’s house and would be out for the night. You also had a missed call and several texts from Derek that made you grimace as Jake sat down. 

“What’s that face for?” He asked. He set down a mug of tea in front of you, and a plate with a donut on it.

“Thought you said this place has the best bagels?” 

“I did,” Jake said, and sat down across from you, “But you look more like a donut person than a bagel person.” He wasn’t wrong, but you weren’t going to admit that to him. Instead, you hummed in response, picked up the mug of tea, “So. . . what’s upsetting you?” 

“Upsetting me?” 

“Your face when you look at your phone,” Jake nodded his head towards your phone that was sitting face down on the table, “Only time I’ve ever seen women frown at their phones like that is when there’s a man involved.” 

“And what makes you think there is a man involved?” 

“From your body language,” Jake set his mug down and leaned back in the booth. He sat in the corner, and put his arm over the top of the booth. He narrowed his green eyes at you, as if he was studying you, “He’s an ex?” 

“He was never anything,” You muttered, “I hooked up with him a couple times last semester. He’s a nice guy. . . just doesn’t get the hint that I don’t want anything with him.” 

“Well, why don’t you? If he’s a nice guy, why don’t you go for it?” 

“I know you are not giving me relationship advice right now?” 

Jake chuckled and took a bite of his bagel. He knew it was probably paradoxical for him to be offering relationship advice considering his on the verge of being over. Jake had gotten married in what he would say is a rush, but Allison, his ex, would say it wasn’t. He and Allison had been together since freshman year of college, and had managed to last for about ten years. Allison had stayed by Jake’s side as he navigated his way through the academia world, fulfilling his dream of becoming an English professor. As soon as he got his doctorate, Allison was asking when they could get married. Jake wasn’t quite sure what drove her into the arms of another man, it could’ve been his busy schedule, his cold personality, or the fact that he wasn’t ready to really settle down. But none of that mattered when he came home and saw her in bed with the neighbor. 

“Does he have a name?”

You nodded, “Derek-“

“Already a flag.”

“Says the man named Jake,” You rolled your eyes, and sighed, “He’s just. . . he wants different things in life. Things I don’t think I can give him.” 

“Hmm. . . Catholic?” 

“Very,” You giggled and Jake smiled, “You know the type?” 

“I was raised to be the type,” Jake answered. 

“Really? Thought ‘religion was the greatest fictional story ever told’”, You quoted using his own speech from class one day.

“One would think with the way you quote my lectures, you wouldn’t be failing my class,” He raised an eyebrow as he took a sip of his coffee.

“Fair enough.”

The conversation flowed between the two of them naturally, both opening up a bit about one another. You had told Jake about where you grew up, a small town not far from Chestnut Hill. Jake didn’t ask much about your life after the fire that claimed the lives of your parents, and you were grateful. You didn’t like talking about it, and only mentioned it in your entrance paper because your guidance counselor said it would give you an upper hand. You spent those past four years regretting that decision, and trying to push it behind you. Jake talked little about his family, confirming that he was the youngest and only boy in his family. He said his dad is a politician in Texas, and you turned your nose up at that, which got a laugh out of him. He did however talk highly about his mother, saying she was the type to send cookies whenever he sounded upset over the phone. 

“So you had the option of UCLA, Dartmouth, and Harvard. . . but you chose here?” Jake asked, as you walked to his car. 

“I couldn’t just leave yet,” You shrugged, “I love it here, as much pain as this place has caused me. . . I love it.” 

“Remarkable,” Jake said, and opened the door for you again, “What’s your address?” He asked once he was in the driver’s side. 

“Oh, just take me back to the library. I gotta finish the papers.” 

“The papers can wait, it’s almost 3AM,” Jake said, putting the car in drive. 

“You need them-” 

“The great thing about being the professor, is you can take as long as you want to grade the assignments,” He smirked, “Now, address.” 

You rambled off the address and he nodded, putting it in his GPS. You two sat in silence again as he drove down the abandoned streets. You sighed comfortably, feeling like you had broken through the wall with Jake. That maybe, this was the right step into making him less of an ass. He pulled up to the small cottage that you and Lucy called home. 

“This is it,” You said, and opened the door. You grabbed your bag from down by your feet, and put it on your shoulder. 

“What are you doing thursday?” Jake asked, as you climbed out of the car. 

“Uh. . . grading thesis assignments.” 

“How about you come over and I can help you tackle them. It’s not fair of me to just push them all on you. I can take some of the work.” 

“Oh, it’s really no hard work Profess-” 

“Jake.” 

“Jake,” You blushed, “But Thursday works.” 

“Sounds good,” He smiled, “See you then.” 

You nodded and shut the car door. Jake stayed in the driveway, watching as you walked all the way inside the house, before pulling out of the driveway. You couldn’t help the smile that was on your face as you walked upstairs to your room. You went through your bedtime routine with that same smile. You even opened up the canvas notification with that smile, but it dropped the second you saw his comment on your most recent writing assignment. 

‘Subpar work. Could be better. Drop date is less than a week away’ 

When Thursday rolled around, you were ready to see Jake. Mainly because you wanted to ask him what the hell his problem was, and to finally be done grading the same assignments you had been working on all week. You sat through the lecture on wednesday seething, trying hard not to snap the pencil in your hand as you watched him walk around in front in his expensive suit talking about The Old Man and The Sea. Derek could tell your mood was off, and tried to soften it by inviting you over to his place. You told him that you needed a raincheck, and Lucy snickered at the way Derek responded to your very clear decline. 

Lucy was laying on your bed watching as you ripped through all of your wardrobe in trying to find something to wear to Jake’s place for dinner. You had never been so nervous to go somewhere for dinner, but this was more than just going to a cafe or breakfast spot with some hungover friends on a sunday morning or some guy you met on Tinder. 

“Luce! Help me!” You sounded out defeated as you sat on the pile of clothes. 

“I told you, what you have on is good,” Lucy said. You had on a knee length black skirt that had a mid thigh slit. You wore a Boston College sweatshirt on top that you had thrifted. Your hair was pinned back with a claw clip. “It’s cute. . . sexy. . . easy access.” 

“Oh my god, Lucy!” You groaned and threw a shirt at her. She giggled and fell back against your mattress. 

“You are going to Professor Seresin’s house for dinner. . . you don’t think a little bit of fuckery might happen?” She wiggled her eyebrows up and down. You rolled your eyes and stood up. 

“No, because I work for him. He’s my teacher.” 

“Sounds like a perfect porno,” Zeke, Lucy’s boyfriend said standing in the doorway. 

“See!” Lucy said, agreeing with him. Zeke walked in and sat down on your desk chair, “You have condoms?” 

“I am not answering that,” You said, picking up your thrown clothes, “But yes.” 

Lucy squealed, and kicked her feet in the air, “I want all the details on the hot, dirty, professor sex.” 

“Well you might want to open Tumblr, because that’s not happening,” You said, and looked at the time. You walked over to your desk and grabbed your backpack, “I gotta get going. Please, don’t screw in the living room. I just got over having nightmares from the last time.” 

“I bet you’ll get screwed in the living room,” Lucy mumbled, and you rolled your eyes. 

“Goodbye, I love you,” You called over your shoulder as you walked out of the room. 

“Love you too! Be safe!” 

Jake’s house was just how you imagined it. A large brick house, with large windows, and a perfect manicured lawn. You rang the doorbell and stood nervously waiting for him to open the front door. He had minimal decorations on his front porch, which was in stark contrast to the houses around him. His welcome mat looked like it had never been replaced from when he first bought it. 

“You’re late,” He grumbled as he opened the door. You gulped and walked in behind him as he walked in the house, not bothering to say anything more. You kicked off your shoes by the front door, and walked in the same direction he did.

“I’m sorry, I hit. . . traffic. . .oh my god, this is beautiful,” You said, taking in the sight of his kitchen. He had various pots and pans on the counter, and he was deep in concentration on whatever he was cooking, “I got most of the first-” 

“I saw the grade in the system,” He cut you off. You furrowed your eyebrows, guess he was back to being asshole Professor Seresin again. You had decided after monday that Professor Seresin and Jake were two different people. “Are you going to just stand there?” He looked up from the pan at you. 

“Sorry,” You apologized and sat down at the kitchen island, opposite of the stove. 

Jake set the spatula down in his hand, and grabbed his wine glass, taking a sip. He looked over at you and noticed you looking around, trying to look anywhere but at him. He sighed and set the glass down. 

“Wine?” He asked. 

You looked up at him, and noticed the softer look in his eyes, “Uh, sure.” He nodded and turned to get a glass out. You couldn’t help but notice the small sliver of his perfectly sculpted abs that peaked out from under his shirt as he reached up to grab a glass. He poured you a glass of white wine and set it in front of you. 

“I hope you like chicken carbonara,” Jake said and gestured to the array of pots in front of him. 

“I uh. . . actually, don’t eat-” 

“You're vegetarian, aren’t you?” 

“Yeah, but it’s okay! I can totally just-” 

Jake held up his hand stopping you. He turned the burner off on the stove, and then grabbed his wine glass, finishing it off. You waited for him to start yelling like how he did in lecture when someone pronounced Giuseppe Ungaretti’s name wrong. 

“It’s a good thing, cause I’ve spent the past hour trying to fix this recipe,” He said, and picked up the pan, tossing its contents in the trash. You stifled a laugh as he walked back over to the stove, “How does pizza sound?” 

“Pizza is fine by me,” You smiled. 

An hour later, you and Jake had full bellies and were halfway through a second bottle of wine as you two sat on his floor, reading through papers. You and Jake were sat on opposite ends of his couch, a stack of papers in between the two of you. The room reminded you a lot of his office, cozy, with dark wooden bookshelves full of books. He had started his fireplace, which warmed your chilled hands. You squinted as you tried to make sense of the document in your hands. 

“I have no idea what this means,” You said, and Jake looked over at you. He had the same puzzled look on his features, but shook his head. 

“Give them an F.” 

“What? No,” You said, “I can’t just give them an-” 

“Part of the assignment was making sure that your thesis makes sense. His does not, so give him an F.” 

“God, you are such a dick,” You said, listening to him and writing an F on top of the paper. You grabbed another one and started reading through it. 

Jake clenched his jaw, and kept on reading through the papers. You noticed the way his body shifted, and you sighed, setting your paper down. You reached over and snatched the paper out of his hands. 

He looked up at you with a shocked look, “What the hell was that for?” 

“What is your deal?” 

“My deal?” 

“Yeah, why are you such an ass?” 

“I don’t think that’s really an appropriate way to describe my teaching methods.” 

“I think it is,” You said. 

“May I remind you that I can still fail you,” Jake said, and took a sip of his wine, “But if you must ask why I am being an ‘ass’, I had a bad day.” 

“Well it must’ve been a bad week, cause you’ve been an ass this whole week,” Jake just shrugged and picked up another paper to read over. You bit your lip and decided to just bite the bullet and ask him, “Why did you say my last assignment was subpar?” 

“Cause it was,” Jake shrugged and continued to look at the paper in front of him. You rolled your eyes and moved closer to him and took another document out of his hands. Jake groaned and looked up at you, “I called it subpar because that’s what Doctor Hoffman would say. You want to get into her program so badly? Then you need to work harder at it. I hold all my students to a high standard, and so does Doctor Hoffman. You won’t get into the program with some half assed assignment you did in forty-five minutes.” 

“Then teach me!” You exclaimed, “Give me the tools I need to be good enough to get into Doctor Hoffman’s program.” 

“You have to learn to take criticism, and you can’t. Cause every time I try to give you any sort of criticism, you act like a brat about it.” 

“Because it’s not criticism, it’s you being an ass. If it was good criticism you would help me figure out a solution to the problem. Like, Professor Seresin, you’re a fucking dick and I think you could use either therapy or to get-” 

It happened quickly, he grabbed your face and kissed you. You froze for a second, but melted into the kiss, your hands going to his hair. His hands moved down your body, one going to your thigh to pull you into his lap. You mentally cursed yourself for sitting so close to him to begin with, but it all went out the window the second he dragged your hips back and forth. His tongue licked at your bottom lip, and you parted your lips. 

The kiss grew heavy as his hands guided your hips in his lap. His lips went from yours to your jaw, and to your neck, easily finding the spot that made you melt. You could feel him grow hard beneath you, and let out a moan. That’s what seemed to snap Jake out his reprieve as he gently set you down on the couch and stood up, taking a quick stride away from the couch. You looked at him confused, gently touching your swollen lips as you watched him pull at his blonde strands and shake his head. 

“Jake?” You asked softly. 

“You need to leave,” He answered, not turning around. 

“But we still need-” 

“Get out!” He yelled. You felt tears in your eyes as you quickly picked up your things from the floor. Jake didn’t bother to turn around, keeping his back to you as you scrambled to put things in your bag. You glanced up at him once, as you zipped up your bag. Tears were now flowing down your face as you rushed out of his house, slamming the door shut.

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[dystopicjumpsuit]

Stars Beyond Number - Chapter 20

A Whimper

Rating: M - Minors DNI

Pairings: Echo x Riyo Chuchi; Gregor x OFC Cerra Kilian

Wordcount: 2.4k

Warnings and tags: the shit hits the fan; mentions of Plan 99 (spoilers for TBB season 2 finale); angst; suspense; canon-typical violence (bearing in mind that in canon Mando cuts a dude in half, soooo... adjust expectations accordingly); references to torture; choking; blood and injury; character death; language.

Suggested Listening:

Summary: Echo deals with the fallout of Plan 99; Cerra has a polite conversation with the Empire.

A/N: This story shares continuity with Martyrs and Kings, "Double, Double Boil and Trouble" (part 2 here) and "Do It Again," but all the fics can be read as stand-alones.

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…Not with a bang but a whimper.

—T. S. Eliot, “The Hollow Men”

Echo sat motionless in the cockpit of the Marauder, staring blindly at the navigation controls. Tech was gone. They’d lost. And all of it had been for nothing. They had no way of locating Hemlock or his base—no way of finding Crosshair. Echo hadn’t just failed to bring one brother home; he’d lost another.

He mentally replayed those fateful moments in the railcar again and again. Could he have worked faster? Could he have done anything differently? Could he have changed the outcome? He didn’t know, and that uncertainty haunted him.

He turned to stare at the empty pilot’s seat. For an instant, Echo could almost see Tech there. He swallowed hard, pushing down the overwhelming grief that tightened in his throat, choking off his breath. His head hurt; his chest ached; his eyes burned with unshed tears.

Gonky shuffled into the cockpit and squawked so quietly that Echo didn’t hear him at first. The droid moved closer and honked a little louder, trying to get Echo’s attention.

Echo blinked and looked away from the vacant pilot’s seat. “What is it?”

Distantly, he heard a familiar rumble, and his heart began to race. He launched out of the co-pilot’s seat and sprinted out of the Marauder. He spotted the Venator hovering over Ord Mantell City and immediately commed Hunter. 

“Hunter, the Empire's here.” No answer came. “Hunter, do you copy? Wrecker?”

There was no reply; nothing but static on the comms.

Kark.

Cerra stumbled as the TK trooper shoved her into the corridor. She subtly tested the binders on her wrists, but they held fast. She fought down the tide of panic rising in her chest and tried to ignore the way her breath was beginning to spiral out of control. 

Exhale. One, two, three, four, five. Inhale. One, two, three, four, five. Oh, god, what if I never see Gregor again? Exhale. One, two, three, four, five. Don’t think about it. Inhale. One, two, three, four, five. 

She forced herself to focus on solving her immediate problems. First, she needed to get out of the binders. Impossible. Next, neutralize the trooper and take his blaster. He’ll blast me before I ever touch the deecee. Next, get to the hangar, steal a shuttle, and hit up the first Starcups she could find.

Piece of uj cake, she thought. Kriff, I’m going to die.

Her sense of impending doom only intensified when she reached the torture chamber—or rather, “enhanced interrogation room.” A stocky man in an officer’s uniform waited next to a table fitted with numerous restraints and an array of control panels and sinister-looking instruments. A tray of surgical tools and hypo-syringes sat next to it, neatly arranged. 

At least he’s organized. I’d hate to be tortured to death by someone who was sloppy.

“Agent Daivik, I presume?” she asked.

“Ah, Miss Kilian. So good of you to join me,” Daivik said smoothly. He turned to the TK trooper. “Take off her binders and get out.”

“Can’t wait to get me alone?” she quipped as the trooper unlocked the manacles.

“Hardly,” Daivik sniffed. “You are only useful because of the information you possess. Please lie down.”

“Aren’t you going to buy me a drink first?” she asked, rubbing her wrists to get the blood flowing to her hands again.

Daivik smirked, then his fist slammed into her shoulder and sent her careening backwards, the backs of her legs colliding with the interrogation table. He grabbed her by the throat and shoved her down onto the table. She kicked her feet desperately, but he pinned down her thighs with one of his legs as he forced her to lie flat on her back. She scratched and grappled with his hand that clamped around her throat in a vise-like grip.

“Ju—Ch—” she sputtered as her airway closed.

“Ready to talk so soon?” he snarled. “I’m just getting started.”

Nevertheless, he loosened his grip enough that she could speak.

“Choke me harder, Daddy,” she rasped.

He snatched his hand away with a revolted curse, and she saw her opening. She headbutted him with all the force she could muster, and his nose made a sickening crunch as her forehead smashed into his face. He staggered backward, and she seized a scalpel off the surgical tray and plunged it into his neck. Blood sprayed out of him instantaneously, spattering thickly over her hand, arm, and face, and she lost her grip on the scalpel as the hot, slippery fluid coated her fingers. 

Daivik’s pale blue eyes opened wide with shock, but he staggered toward her, his hands outstretched toward her neck. She clenched her hand into a fist and pounded the scalpel deeper into his throat, then curled her legs up and kicked him away with both feet. He lurched backward and fell, landing with a heavy thud. He went abruptly still as his head collided with the durasteel floor.

She leaned forward on the edge of the table, bracing her hands on her knees as she gasped for air. Her vision blurred, and with her clean hand, she wiped Daivik’s blood out of her eyes. The door hissed open, and the TK trooper rushed into the room. Cerra lunged for another scalpel, but before she could strike, she saw a flash of blue, and the trooper collapsed to the floor. A clone in gray and white armor stood behind him, blaster still raised. Cerra crouched in a defensive position, scalpel clutched in her fist. The clone smacked the control panel to close the door behind him, then lowered his blaster.

“You know, if you wanted to see me, all you had to do is comm,” he said as he removed his helmet to reveal a familiar scarred face and mismatched eyes: one brown, and one a cybernetic silver.

“Wolffe?” she gaped, her voice hoarse and ragged from Daivik’s bruising grip on her throat. “What are you doing here?”

“Saw you on the security holofeeds and thought you might need help.” He spared a glance at Daivik’s corpse. “Looks like I was right.”

“I had it under control,” she lied, her breath coming in short, sharp bursts.

“You were about to bring a scalpel to a blaster fight,” Wolffe said pointedly.

“Kriff you,” she replied without heat.

“Kriff me yourself, coward,” he grinned.

“Holocams?” she asked.

“Surveillance feeds are off for this room and the corridor outside. You all right?”

“Is that a rhetorical question?” she asked, pulling off her jacket and using it to wipe the blood off herself as much as possible.

“You don’t look so bad,” Wolffe said as he quickly began to strip off the TK trooper’s armor. 

She moved to help. “Been better, been worse.”

“What’s your plan for getting out of here?” he asked.

“Steal a shuttle,” she said.

“I like it. Simple, straightforward.”

“Want to come with me?” she asked.

He shook his head as they wrestled the TK trooper out of his compression suit. “I’ll stay here and cover for you from the command deck.”

“You sure?” she asked doubtfully. “They’re going to suspect I had help.”

“I’ll stay,” he repeated. “I have… other duties to fulfill.”

He turned his back to give her privacy as she changed into the black body glove, then handed her the armor one piece at a time as she suited up. 

“It’s a hell of a coincidence, you being on the exact ship they brought me to,” Cerra observed.

“Sure is,” he said, not meeting her eyes.

“Almost like someone knew I got captured and sent you in after me,” she said.

“That’d be quite the twist, wouldn’t it?” he agreed noncommittally. “Good thing neither of us knows anyone who would do that.”

“Good thing,” she agreed as she settled the helmet onto her head. “How do I look?”

“Not bad,” Wolffe replied. “You might want to take this, though.”

He drew one of his blasters and offered it to her. 

“I’ve got his deecee,” she said, gesturing toward the unconscious TK trooper. “I’m good.”

“Trust me, you want this one,” Wolffe said.

She glanced down at the blaster in his hand, and her breath caught as she recognized Jesse’s modifications.

“I could only find the one,” he said. “But I knew you’d want it back.”

Her throat tightened, and she swallowed hard before she managed to reply, “Thanks.”

He nodded, his eyes sympathetic. “Ready?”

“Any time. It was good seeing you, buddy.”

“You, too, kid,” Wolffe said, sliding his helmet firmly into place. “I’ll see you around.”

“That a promise?” she asked.

“Clone’s honor.”

They stepped into the corridor, and Wolffe closed and locked the door behind them. With any luck, nobody would discover Daivik’s body and the TK trooper until Cerra was safely off the Venator. With one final nod at each other, they parted, Wolffe heading to the bridge while Cerra made her way to the flight deck. 

She forced herself to walk at a normal pace to avoid drawing attention, though her instincts screamed at her to run. Her heart pounded, and she was grateful for the helmet that hid her face from the Imperials she passed in the passageways; she didn’t think she would be able to disguise her anxiety without it.

The hangar was nearly deserted when she arrived—no doubt thanks to Wolffe. Nobody noticed an extra TK trooper in the shuttle bay. Cerra selected a shuttle, then quickly located and disabled its transponder beacon. Once she powered up the shuttle, the Imperials would know something was wrong. She would have an incredibly narrow window to get out of range of the tractor beam. There would be no time to program the hyperdrive navicomputer; she’d have to use the last inputted coordinates and hope for the best. She took a deep breath and boarded the shuttle.

Settling into the pilot’s seat, Cerra began running as many of the pre-flight protocols as she could before engaging the sublight engine. This is it, then, she thought, beginning the power-up sequence and maneuvering the shuttle out of the bay.

The comms crackled almost immediately. “Nu-class shuttle, you are not cleared for takeoff. Return to the—”

She muted the transmission, then punched the thrusters to top speed, blasting out of the hangar and into space. The Venator opened fire, but as soon as she was clear of the ship, Cerra jumped to hyperspace. Safely away, she yanked off her helmet and leaned back in her seat, gasping for air.

“I can’t believe that worked,” she said aloud with a short, incredulous laugh.

Riyo stared at the flickering hologram of Echo’s face, feeling as though all the oxygen had been forcefully ripped from her lungs.

“How?” she whispered. “What happened?”

“The Trandoshan sold us out,” Echo replied, his face grim and twisted by grief and anger. “We barely made it out alive.”

“Why would the Empire take Omega? What do they want with her?”

“I don’t know. That Imperial—Hemlock—he said something about Nala Se. He said she’s still alive.”

Riyo frowned. “Could she have escaped the destruction of Tipoca City? Halle Burtoni told me there were a few Kaminoans scattered throughout the galaxy, but she didn’t mention Nala Se.”

“If Nala Se is working for the Empire, that can only spell trouble for us clones,” Echo said.

“I agree. We should discuss this with Rex. When will you be back to Coruscant?” Riyo asked.

Echo glanced away, refusing to meet her eyes.

Her heart began to pound. “Echo?”

He took a deep breath before he replied. “I’m not coming back to Coruscant.”

She blinked. “... What?”

“I’m staying with Hunter and Wrecker,” he said quietly. “Omega is still out there somewhere, in Imperial hands. We have to find her.”

“Cerra is still out there, too!” Riyo protested. “We need you here! We need you—”

“Riyo,” Echo said gently. “Rex and the others are doing everything they can to find her. I trust them, and I trust that she can take care of herself until they find her. Besides, if I know Cerra, she’s already making whoever took her wish they were never born. But Omega is only a child. We can’t abandon her.”

He was right, of course. She knew he was right. But knowing he was right didn’t make the crushing weight in her chest feel any lighter. She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She bit back the selfish words that sprang to her lips, knowing that speaking them aloud would only make things worse. Nevertheless, they reverberated in her mind.

I need you. I love you. Come back to me.

Echo reached for her through the holocomm, and she closed her eyes for a moment, imagining that she could feel the warmth of his touch.

“We will see each other again,” he said. “I swear it, Riyo. This isn’t the end for us.”

Without her comlink, Cerra had no choice but to use the shuttle’s communicator to contact Rex. Not only were the shuttle’s comms not secure, it was possible that the Empire was actively monitoring them. She keyed in the details for one of the team’s burner comm channels.

“Code kilo-three-two-seven. Scrapper to Monarch, come in,” she said. The minutes ticked by in agonizing slowness as she awaited a reply. When none came, she tried again. “Monarch, this is Scrapper. Please respond.”

The comm was silent. Fighting down her rising panic, Cerra ran a diagnostic to make sure it was functional. All systems were normal. She was just about to try a third time when the voice she loved most in the entire galaxy crackled through the speaker.

“Scrapper, this is Watchman. Good to hear your voice.”

Gregor. Oh, thank kriff. Tears of relief stung her eyes, and she hurriedly blinked them away as she responded.

“Back at you, Watchman.” Her voice cracked, and she swallowed. “Really good.”

“What’s your status?”

“I’m all right, but I could use a ride. Any chance you’re free for a pickup?” she asked.

“Affirmative. Head to delta-one-alpha-eight-two. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Copy that, Watchman. Fly casual.”

“You, too, Scrapper.”

Gregor ended the transmission, and Cerra let out a shaky breath. It was over. She was going home.

---

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