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spirit-of-the-void · 6 years ago

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Ebony and Ivory (V x Reader Fanfic) Chapter 7

Author’s Notes: Kiss those sewers goodbye, cause I certainly am.

Chapter 7

It felt like you had traveled through the sewers for hours.

Which was a complete nightmare in your opinion. You lost count of all the minor battles you and the others had gotten into. And to be honest—you were beginning to feel the strain. Your limit was increasing, sure, but you also could feel exertion coming in any fight now. The sewer had eventually led your group into a cargo barge. Which was somehow worse. The enemy from early was now above you and the rest of the group, slamming its strange feet through the top roof of the cargo ship and leaving you no choice but to attack it. You hardly had a chance to sit and rest with the poet at all, and both of you were showing the strain. Food was helping in its own way, but it could only do so much with all the fights.

Griffon and Shadow were trying to keep you in high spirits throughout the process, you could tell. Shadow rubbing gently against your legs and Griffon keeping the conversations light and, shockingly, insult free. You appreciated the effort, but you were eager to be free of the underground locations—you enjoyed the open air far more than the stuff, blood-filled stench of the sewers. The exhaustion was also making your filter slip a bit, which was definitely bad. You had to stop yourself from telling V you’d straight up suck his cock for a god damn shower. The poet was laid back, but not enough for you to say that to him. The inside of your cheek was raw from you biting it—it was either that or biting your nails and lips, which was way more visible.

Regardless, you and the others pressed on, only stopping once when your group heard Nero’s voice calling from above you.

V stopped immediately, gaze darting up to see Nero looking down at all of you from one of the holes punched in the ceiling. He looked a little banged up, out of breath from fighting what looked to be the huge thing from before—you had to give him props. You didn’t even want to begin to touch that thing in a fight, but he seemed to be holding his own fairly well. You heard it collapse moments before, realizing pretty fast just who was fighting the creature in all its glory. Nero was not a quiet battler by any stretch of the word—he was extra and boisterous, and boy did he curse a lot.

He blinked down at all of you, huffing out air as he asked, “What the hell are you guys doing down there?”

Griffon let out a light scoff, gesturing with his beak to the creature weakly moving behind the white-haired boy.

“You didn’t think you did that all by yourself, did ya?” He puffed his feathers up in smug amusement, making you smile a bit. Griffon was a big boaster, but in reality, you guys hadn’t done all that much. Attacking the legs was more out of necessity than anything.

Regardless, Nero didn’t seem impressed. A smirk was on his lips as he crouched down, sword slung over his shoulder as he replied, “Y’kno, I bet you taste like chicken.”

Griffon’s smug amusement immediately turned to annoyance, the bird releasing annoyed huffs as he growled, “Oh, you ungrateful son of a—”

V stuck out his cane, stopping the bird from flying up at the boy. He seemed unfazed, smirking at their banter. Griffon let out an annoyed grunt and backing down from the conflict, flying back to your shoulders, muttering curses as he angrily settled himself on his favorite perch. You gave him a light pat on the head, smiling ruefully at him when you met his gaze. He and Nero seemed pretty prone to butting heads, you’d have to keep that in mind.

Nero’s gaze slid to you next, looking you over with a hint of worry. That is if you weren’t mistaken, you were pretty worn out and reading people was a bit difficult.

“How are you holdin’ up, Y/N?” He asked, jerking his chin in your direction, “Is jackass there bothering you?”

Jackass, in reference to Griffon. The bird let out another angry squawk, glaring daggers at Nero. You smiled up at him, shaking your head no.

“I’m okay,” You replied, giving him a small, albeit friendly wave of your hand, “We’ve been fighting a lot of demons down here.”

Nero let out understanding grunt, squeezing the hilt of his sword, “You’re tellin’ me. It’s been a mad house out here.”

You gave an apologetic smile, watching as V turned a few steps to point his cane up at the creature behind Nero, slowly rising to its huge feet.

“We’ll leave this beast to you,” He said in a light purr, giving Nero a passing glance as he began walking down another tunnel, “We must press on.”

Nero let out a light huff, still wearing that smirk as he rose to his feet again. You managed another wave, turning with Griffon still clinging to your shoulders and muttering to himself. For someone who gave a lot of shit, Griffon seemed pretty easily angered when receiving shit back. You were lucky enough to make peace and now have light banter with the bird—a mutual understanding of sorts. He dished out insults and now you were almost allowed to throw them back, and Griffon got a kick out of it. You were glad for that at least, it made conversations a lot more fun to have.

“Can believe you waved at that asshole,” Griffon huffed, sounding particularly moody, “Little miss friendly. Little miss nice to everyone. Completely fucking unreal.”

You smiled innocently, giving his head another light pat as you cooed, “Aww does someone need a hug? Was that big bad demon hunter mean to you?”

“Ha ha, look at you the big comedian,” Griffon mocked, puffing out his feathers and snapping his beak by your ear, “When are you takin’ that shit on tour, toots? I’ll buy tickets.”

You laughed, the sound having a bit of a tired edge, “You think I’d make you buy tickets? You shame me, Griffon,” You tapped his talons, letting out a light hum as you added, “I’d get you tickets for you, free of charge.”

He let out a light trill, rolling his eyes as he leaned his head back and squawked mockingly, “I’m touched, I really am.”

You laughed lightly again, knowing the little fight had no weight when Griffon snickered too. V was walking slightly ahead of you, but you think you heard him let out a bemused “Hmm” at you both chatting. You quickened your steps to catch up with the poet. You wished you could ease his fatigue a bit, but being so close to exertion was a slippery slope for you both. You didn’t want to be a burden during the fighting, it was best saved for emergencies. Still, you worriedly looked at V as he trudged along, jumping down a hole in the cargo barge and leading into what looked to be—more sewers. You groaned aloud, leaning against a wall and releasing all your inner torment in one long stream.

Griffon let out a light snicker, flapping his wings as he hovered in front of you.

“Ladies and gentlemen—we've lost her,” He announced, seeming pretty damn amused about it, “You wanna lie down and take a nap, toots? Need a hug?” Mocking your comment from earlier it would seem. Joke was on him; you liked hugs and definitely wouldn’t mind one.

You glared at him, though the action had no actual heat, “Laugh it up, bird. But I’d sooner die than lie down on this floor.”

Griffon let out another light peal of laughter, circling back around to V, who was leaning against a wall as well. He had a less than pleased look himself, eyeing your frown with one of his own. One of the few moments you had seen him displeased. He was exhausted too, that much you could definitely tell. He was huffing lightly after a few steps of walking, dark circles under his eyes as he rose a hand to his face, pinching the bridge of his nose a bit. You felt nervousness swirl in your stomach, debating expending the energy anyway just to help him.

“V...” You began to say, ready to activate your tendrils to latch on to him.

He let out a low, rumbling hum at you, opening his eyes again to skewer you with a sharp gaze. You immediately froze, a worried look in your eyes as you stopped in place.

“Don’t even think about it,” He murmured, eyeing you with a searching gaze of his own as he tipped his cane in your direction, “You’re reaching your own limits, I can tell.”

“Yeah?” You countered in a challenging tone, “And how can you tell that? Not that you’re right.”

He let out a light “Hmm” at you, raising a brow at your defensive tone.

“Because I know you,” He replied in a smug voice, “Had you actually had energy to spend, you would have done it before now.”

You let out a low mumble, hating that he was right. You pushed off from the wall, eyeing your surroundings with displeasure as you contemplated if you and your group should just find a place to rest. You had spent a good portion of time down there—it had to be night sooner or later. Though the only thing stopping you now was the fact that sewers were crawling with demons, there were no safe places to rest. Sleeping out in the open was definitely not a smart thing to do, a risk not worth taking after such a long day of fighting. If you could get skyward, you could find maybe an abandoned apartment and crash there. Or maybe call Nico and see if she would let you crash in the van.

V, however, had different plans. He pushed off from the wall as well, pointing his cane down at the ground. You watched Shadow turn their head, immediately turning back into their normal essence at V’s feet. You blinked, wondering just what the hell he was doing. He gripped the cane, pressing it into the cloud of essence before turning and holding his hand out to you.

“Here,” He said in that sultry purr, offering you a half smile, “This will make for faster travel.”

You blinked in confusion, taking his hand but hesitating to step onto what you knew was damn well Shadow underneath his feet.

“This won't hurt Shadow will it?” You said nervously, gaze still down on the floor.

He gave your hand a light squeeze, his skin warm and the sensation making your stomach do a quick flip. Whoops, that probably wasn’t a good sign. Your brain needed to calm down.

“They won’t feel any pain,” He promised, tugging you forward so you were forced to step onto the essence as well, “This form has many uses."

The sensation you felt upon stepping onto the swirling essence was strange—like is was both hard yet not at the same time. You tested your weight, still worried about the cat’s well-being underneath you and V. You trusted the poet, but it was still in your nature to feel concern about it. Much to your continued surprise, V pulled you closer to him. Right against him, in fact. You were suddenly right against his back, the goth pulling your arms around his waist so you were hugging him from behind. Oh no. Your heartbeat immediately went crazy, pounding in your chest. His height was vastly different from yours, your face pressed into his upper back as his hands released you.

“Hold on tight.” He said in a soft, sultry voice, your eyes catching a glimpse of that half smirk as he turned away. He seemed pretty amused, but from where your hands were you could feel his heart beating fast. You blinked—maybe that was from him exerting himself?

You didn’t dwell on it long. You heard Griffon let out a low, amused chortle, catching his knowing gaze just a moment before his dissolved back into his Master’s form. You fought a groan—Griffon totally caught you red faced and dazed at being so close to the god damn sandal-wearing goth. You were going to hear about that later, you knew that much. You were lucky Griffon at least had tact in that department, he rarely said embarrassing shit in front of V about it. Rarely. That little quip earlier when he returned from death was still pretty unwarranted. Bastard bird wasn't going to make things easy on you.

Regardless.

V suddenly tilted his cane forward, sending your thoughts careening away from your musings as you and he were moving fast through the sewer. You gasped, griping the goth tighter as you sped along, staring in wonder at the ground as it swept by. Shadow was a swirling mass under you both, gliding you and V quickly through the winding tunnels, through new locations you hadn’t seen yet. Your foresight flared a couple of times, but the goth made it past a lot of the barriers before they could even form. Thank god for that at least; you couldn’t take being covered in anymore demon guts and blood. You sighed softly. The time in the Void had definitely taken some of your stamina and strength—you remembered being able to fight for a whole day without rest before. Not being able to do so now was understandable but frustrating.

You contented yourself in enjoying the moment, resting your face against V’s back and closing your eyes. It was easy to tell this close how skinny he was—his wiry frame shifted and moved under your hands, tilting when you needed to turn. The leather of his vest still managed to smell nice, fresh in a way despite all the fighting. With Griffon not present, you could luckily rest as much as you want without feeling too embarrassed about clinging to V. The poet didn’t seem to mind either, although you couldn’t see his face. You hoped this wasn’t hindering him in anyway.

This new form of travel made quick work of finally, blessedly, leaving the sewers. You let out a delighted gasp as you finally neared a tunnel with brighter light, a low hole open in the ceiling that was big enough for you to pass through. To your slight disappointment, you could see rain pattering through the hole instead of the sun, but that was heavily welcome over the dank warmth of the tunnels. You felt V turn an arm, wrapping it around your waist as Shadow sent you both launching out of the hole, into the fresh, damp air. Water pattered on your face the instant you landed, a cry of delight leaving you as you plopped down on the ground and tilted your head back. Thank the lord, the choir, and all the angels. Rain had never felt so damn good.

You heard V let out a chuckle, sitting down on a piece of nearby rubble as Shadow reformed, letting out a disgruntled roar and shaking the rain out of their fur. You tried to focus less on the goth with rain pattering on his form and more on the mighty cat now that it was back. They immediately trotted over to you, sitting by your feet and blinking away the rain. You smiled as they stared at your face, rubbing a hand over their moistened fur. They seemed no worse for wear after their little gliding trip, which was a good thing. Only problem was now that it was raining out, you were all on a quick path to wet clothes and the risk of colds. Mind you, it was still fairly comfortable temperature wise, you still didn’t want to take any chances.

Griffon reappeared as well, letting out a disgusted squawk as the rain began to soak him.

“Ahh fuck! This blows,” He hissed, gliding over and ducking under Shadow for cover. The cat grunted, forced to stand on all fours to accommodate him, “I hate the god damn rain...!”

You smiled, fully understanding why he as a bird wouldn’t like it. Getting wet was always rough on the feathers, it probably made it hard for him to fly. You looked down at him huddled under the cat, his feathers beaded with rain water. He shook himself out, splattering you with some of it and making you chuckle.

V let out a low hum, running a hand through his hair. You blinked up at him, hating how much you enjoyed the sight of his black hair, dripping wet and half moved back and away from his pale face. Bad, you reminded yourself. You were being bad. You looked away, but not before you noticed water droplets dripping down his neck, over his tattoos. And not before Griffon noticed you noticing.

He let out another low chortle as V stood, the wry man rolling his shoulders and starting forward again. Griffon quickly flapped his wings, flying up so he could land on your shoulders as you rose to follow. His beak was at your ear the next instant, his voice in a low, amused hiss.

“Looks like somebody was already wet long before the rain started.” His tone had a sing-song edge, beak so close it brushed your ear.

You immediately put a hand to your mouth to hide a squeak, a shocked expression on your face as you turned to look at the bird. You made a shushing motion, embarrassment and annoyance filling you as you gave him a glance promising violence. Griffon chortled again, both of you looking at V to see if he had noticed. Which, luckily, it appeared not to be the case. He was still strolling forward, eyes locked on what appeared to be a phone booth resting against a building’s wall. You tried not to focus on what Griffon said, glancing around at your surroundings. Back in the city again, only this appeared to be a courtyard of sorts. A few husks were here, which made you wince, and several abandoned cars and broken pavement.

You quickly caught up to V, feeling pretty renewed now that the rain was washing over you. Though you felt bad Griffon and Shadow didn’t seem to enjoy it. As for you, you were sure the feeling of wet clothes would start to bother you once it reached your panties and the insides of your shoes. V seemed unaffected by it, but you could definitely tell he was winded now that you were in bright light. No more fights for the day, or at least you hoped. The sky was darkening a bit, so you were hoping once you called Nico you guys could find a place to bunker down and dry off.

“Gonna call Nico?” You asked when V entered the phone booth, shaking out his hair a bit.

“Yes.” He replied, already dialing the number. You leaned against the phone booth, tilting your face toward the sky and closing your eyes as the rain pattered down on you. Hair already soaked, which was fine. Not exactly a shower, but you would take the feeling of sewers being washed away however you could. You ran your hands through your sopping locks, pushing them back a bit and letting out a light sigh. The day had gone by so fast, but the lovely morning of waking up curled with all your new companions felt so long ago. You doubted it could happen again if you found a place with more than one place to rest, and you half hoped you would only find one bed again. A stupid thought, an impulsive thought. You opened your eyes again, smiling wistfully as you internally scolded yourself.

You thought you felt someone staring at you, and confirmed it when you turned and caught V’s gaze moving away, body moving back to the phone as it dialed the mechanic. You blinked—had he been watching you?

He suddenly spoke, probably due to Nico picking up the phone.

“Hey, we can use a hand.” He said simply, tone low and smooth.

“Yeah yeah, I’ll head on over.” Nico sounded only slightly annoyed—you knew she was eager for the progress report on the daggers you had used. The annoyance held no weight.

You slid down on one side of the phone booth to wait, closing your eyes and humming a quiet tune as the wait for Nico’s arrival would start. You half wondered what elaborate entrance she would make this time, but you knew your imagination was not that creative. Shadow decided to plop their mighty head on your lap, making you grunt softly, but happily as they too closed their eyes to get some rest. V slid down on the other side of the phone booth, setting his cane down on the pavement. You were disappointed—you couldn’t see his face this way. As for Griffon, he was the only one who seemed content enough with sitting in the dry phone booth, entering a bird position of rest as beads of water pattered from his puffed-out frame. He looked pretty grumpy, so you decided on leaving him alone.

The silence stretched peacefully for a few moments, broken only by the soft falling of rain. You wanted to say something, but you weren’t sure what.

Shockingly, it was V who broke the silence.

“Tell me, Y/N,” His voice was soft and smooth, head tilted back against the phone booth as rain continued to soak the both of you, “You asked me about my family...but what of yours? You mentioned to Griffon you didn’t remember them...did you grow up alone?”

You felt yourself hesitate, unable to figure out how to answer his question.

“Hmm...” You murmured lightly, clasping your hands in your lap, “It’s hard to say.” The answer to his question felt like a yes, but also a no. You grew up with parents, but you were still alone...trying to remember sent a pain through your skull, energy flaring and commanding that such actions were a firm no.

You pressed a hand to your temple, tone slightly strained as you replied, “I had parents growing up...but they weren’t kind ones. I think in a way I did grow up alone...but I don’t remember much of anything.” Not a lie, at least that’s what you told yourself. How could you be fully truthful if you didn’t remember the truth yourself?

V let out a small sound of understanding, turning his head to look at you. The sight of rain water glistening on his black lashes sent your heart into a frenzy.

“You seem to have a problem with memory,” He said, not in an accusing tone. More observant, curious, “Is there any reason for that?”

You hesitated again, unsure of how much to share.

“I...” You didn’t want to keep with the half truths. You didn’t like to lie. You squeezed your right wrist with your left hand, hard enough that your nails dug in.

Pain is a reminder.

“The Deity I get my power from,” Your voice was low, eyes tired as you smiled wistfully and stared ahead, “He removed a lot of my memories...It was to help me cope with trauma. I still...feel them there, like residue traces. It's like a ghost of a memory remains...all the emotions and feelings that came with it but without substance. Cut in half.”

V paused again, causing worry to settle in your frame. You couldn’t bring yourself to look back at his face.

When he spoke his tone was soft, filled with a deep curiosity, “Fascinating,” He murmured, sending a bit of relief pouring through you, “This Deity...you’ve actually spoken to it? How far back do you remember?”

You tapped your fingers on your arm, glancing down to see you were bleeding slightly from your own nails. You tilted your wrist down, holding it again as you thought over a good response.

“I have,” You replied, now deciding to peek over at him. He was becoming absolutely soaked, black hair clinging to his face and dripping water all over. His jade eyes met your, searching and filled with a deep fascination—the sight made your heart pound a little faster, words a little looser, “He shows himself to me on occasion, talks to me. As for my memories...it varies. If you’re wondering if I’m going to suddenly forget you guys the answer is no, it's just my past memories that are effected.” You would not let the Deity erase your memories of them, even if this place somehow managed to break you.

V nodded once, turning his gaze back and closing his eyes from the rain. You blinked—had you seen relief there in his expression before he turned away? Regardless, that half smile was on his lips now, softening his features. You had to let out a slow breath to steady yourself, pressing your hands to your cheeks and closing your eyes. You needed to get a grip, you needed to focus. You thought you heard Griffon let out another low chuckle, but you weren’t going to look at him to confirm it. He needed to behave himself too. As it was, Shadow was being a good cat, snoozing in your lap and ignoring the steady patter of rain on their fur. You appreciated their silent support.

After a few more seconds of waiting you hear a low rumble and the sound of tires. You blinked tiredly when V tapped the phone booth was his cane to alert everyone, rising to his feet with a low grunt. You scratched Shadow behind the ears once before stretching your legs and arms out, letting out a light groan of strain. God, you could use a nap, in an actual bed. Warm, fresh sheets and a cool fan blowing. You shook your head, looking up to see V holding a hand out to help you up. You took it, rising to your feet and giving his fingers a light squeeze. His support was always appreciated, always there to put a little more pep back in your step.

He smiled at you, releasing your hand just as Nico’s van came bursting through the ground.

Both you and V whipped around, taking several steps back as the mobile home shoot out, quickly leaning forward and slamming onto the pavement on all four wheels. You heard Griffon let out a startled squawk, looking at the new hole in the ground and at the now present van. You had to agree with him—you didn’t know how the fuck Nico pulled this shit off, or why, but it was definitely impressive. You just worried one of these days that she was gonna hurt herself by doing it. Or hit you or the others with the van without trying to.

You exchanged an exasperated glance with V, who merely gave a light shrug and started toward the van. As he did so, Nico opened the driver’s side window, half sticking her head out to look at you and the poet.

“Hurry it up!” She yelled in her southern drawl, looking pretty frazzled, “I’ve gotta go stop by dipshit next! He’s all out of arms again!”

V let out a low hum, stepping into the van when the mechanic threw a towel at his face. He caught it with a grunt, giving her a raised brow as she crossed her arms.

“No dripping on my floor!” She growled, pointing a finger at him, “Now make it fast.”

“Certainly.” V still sounded amused, all things considered. He towel dried his hair lightly as he walked to the back of the van to use the statue. You opted on staying outside, leaning against the van and giving Nico a friendly smile and wave. You definitely didn’t want to risk getting water on anything.

Nico approached you eagerly, poking her head out of the van to address you.

“How were those daggers?” She asked without pleasantries. Which you expected.

You pulled one out, giving it a light twirl as you hummed, “Very interesting. They provide an effect that does blue fire damage to demons. If I stab them enough, they explode.”

Nico looked downright delighted, nodding eagerly and smirking with the pride of a true artist.

“Hell yeah!” She exclaimed, giving you a pat on the back, “Keep that shit up—I'm cookin’ up somethin’ real excitin’ from that fancy crystal you gave me.”

You nodded once, the action sending water droplets flying off your hair. It seemed to occur to Nico that you were still standing out in the rain, looking pretty drenched at a little tired. Her excited expression slipped to one that was more concerned, her gaze shifting between you and V as he did his thing back at the statue.

“You doin’ alright?” She asked you, placing a single hand on your soaked head, “You’re fuckin’ drenched. Hate to say it, but you look like shit.”

You let out a light laugh at that, “You’re right and you should say it. We’re probably gonna find somewhere to sleep for the night soon.”

She still looked worried, “Is there anythin’ ya need? Wait—hold that thought.” She turned back into her van, rummaging through some drawers and the like beyond your view. You let out a light breath, patiently waiting for her return and for V to be done. The rain was beginning to soak through your clothes, a previous speculation confirmed when you shifted in discomfort. Wet clothes were not fun, nor welcome. Once you got the energy back you could dry yourself, but waiting in this personal hell until them was not very encouraging. And stripping down to let stuff dry definitely wasn’t an option.

Nico returned a moment later with what appeared to be a grocery bag filled with items you couldn’t see. She sat down on the steps of her mobile home, handing it to you as you sat down as well. Unlike with V, she said nothing about you dripping on her van.

“Consider that a girlie care package,” She said in a low voice, cupping a hand near her mouth so only you could hear, “Got some stuff in there for ya—I know how shit goes.”

You blinked, holding the bag in the van so it didn’t get wet. You were pretty sure you saw a towel in the bag, some bandages, a few little toiletry things like tampons and the like. You blinked—there were a pair of clean panties in there too. Nico definitely thought ahead. You looked up at her with a grateful expression, met with a smug one of her own.

“I always keep shit in the van,” She replied, leaning back on her arms and tilting her gaze to meet yours, “Never know when I or someone else might need it. You sure you and the goth don’t wanna just rest in the van tonight? I’ve got spare clothes.”

You smiled ruefully, looking in the distance where a bundle of Qliphoth roots were resting.

“We have to destroy those first,” You replied, “And you have to go help Nero.”

Nico scoffed, “I’ll swing by and pick his dumb ass up and come back. How about you and mister poet meet us the second street over on the train tracks in like an hour?”

You paused. To be truthful, that sounded more appealing than resting in someone’s abandoned home. The mobile home would be cramped, so you hoped V and the others would be okay with it too. Regardless, you nodded, offering the mechanic a tired smile and wringing out your hair a bit.

“That would be lovely,” You replied, which made her smile in relief, “We’ll destroy the roots and wait for you there.”

Nico gave a light nodded, patting you on the back before hopping to her feet. Just as she did, V came walking back to the side door, handing Nico back the towel before he stepped back into the rain again. You made quick work of summoning the bag back from before and depositing the new contents inside before you followed after him. The door slid shut behind you as you stood, absorbing the bag back and turning to face the now-wet poet again.

Nico called out the window at you, “Remember to meet me in an hour!” Before closing it again and pressing on the gas. Her van was skidding off into the distance within moments, leaving you and your group alone once more. You let out a light sound of amusement, meeting V’s usual bemused gaze before turning in the direction of the roots.

“We’re meeting Nico later?” V questioned as you started forward with him, giving his cane a light twirl before tapping it on the ground.

“Mhm,” You nodded lightly, clasping your hands behind your back as Griffon landed on your shoulders, “I hope you don’t mind, I agreed to us staying with her and Nero tonight.”

He let out a low hum, tilting his gaze forward as he replied, “No objections from me.”

You smiled in relief, looking away from him and quickening your step. The faster you destroyed the Qliphoth roots, the faster you and the poet could get some well needed rest. Though as you walked, you realized that shit would never come easy, not by a long shot.

Your foresight began to flare as you neared an archway, hissing voices heard nearby. Your heart began to pound at the prospect of another god damn battle, also mingled with annoyance. You were tired of fighting for the day, that was definitely sure. Regardless, V pressed himself against a nearby wall to hide, pulling you to the side and pressing his cane over your chest to hold you back. Joke was on him; you definitely had no intentions of getting caught.

You caught sight of whatever the fuck the thing was before ducking into cover, and it was pretty ugly. It looked like a three-part woman attached to a gross, deformed giant chicken. With writhing mandibles and claws coming from its body, saliva dripping from its maw. Yikes. In front of it stood what looked to be a powerful demon on horseback, wielding what looked to be a lightning sword atop an equally-fancy looking horse. Oh no. Oh, that looked bad. You didn’t like the sight of this one bit, foresight flaring in an alarming way as V listened on to what they were saying.

“Malphas....of course, more trouble,” Griffon growled at your feet, sticking his dumb beak out to glare at the two creatures. He peered at the horseback guy with beady eyes, continuing much too loudly for your tastes, “Not sure about that one, though. Never seen him before, not in the Underworld any—”

You quickly grabbed him before V could, holding your hand around his beak and cradling him against you almost like an angry cat. V put a finger to his lips in a shushing motion, eyeing the bird then you before turning to look back at the obvious threats. You had no idea who Malphas was, but she was a scary looking enemy and you already decided you didn’t like her. Hell, you didn’t like this whole situation. So much for your group killing a simple bundle of roots and moving on. You had to admit, you excepted things to go wrong some way or another. Only this time it was cutting into your much needed rest and relaxation. You were wet, grumpy, and certainly in no mood to fight a glorified naked bird.

Regardless, Malphas was talking.

She was rasping at the rider in a strange, warbled tone of voice, black eyes staring him down with firm intensity.

“Search for the devil sword Sparda," She growled, body glowing with demonic energy, "You know where it is...He told me to leave it be, but I'm afraid it still concerns me."

The devil sword Sparda? You had no idea what the hell that was, but the term made V squeezed his cane tightly so hard his knuckles turned white, eyes alight with interest. It sent your heart pounding again, realizing that this may actually be a fight V didn’t want to walk away from. Griffon let out a muffled, quiet squawk at the name of the sword as well, eyes wide as they looked over to the poet watching this scene unfold. Even Griffon seemed concerned, so you had to wonder just what the fuck it all meant.

“As long as there is a blood descendant of Sparda...I cannot take any chances.” Maplphas continued, drawing your attention again. Who was Sparda? And who was the descendant? Your confusion only grew.

“Do you understand?!” The woman’s screeching voice made you jump a bit, leaning back against the wall, “Find it, and destroy it! Only then will his reign be truly realized...!” You assumed “He” was Urizen, which was pretty much the only thing that made any sense to you.

The rider never replied to the deranged demon, silence following her words. You watched as she walked forward through a purple, swirling portal, disappearing out of view in a flash. One threat gone, but the rider still remained. And much to your absolute displeasure, V stepped out from his hiding spot. You released Griffon, instantly stepping up beside him to make sure he didn't do something absolutely stupid. You realized right away that the driven, focused look was back in his eyes, like he didn’t seem to realize you were there for a moment. You, Griffon, and Shadow took up places beside him, your foresight signaling you that danger was going to happen if you proceeded, but there was no stopping that.

V tapped his cane on the ground with a heavy, metalic sound. It made the rider turn, a low growl coming from its throat as it readied its weapon with a burst of purple, crackling energy. The horse under it reared with a loud whiny, eyes glowing a firey blue as the creatures now faced you. Bad, this felt bad. You had no idea how to handle this.

“I see. I know what you are.” V’s voice was a low, sultry tone. His expression was alight with anticipation, staring the creature down and griping the top of his cane.

He lifted the silver rod and tapped the handle onto the palm of his hand, tilting his head to the side as he murmured a sultry, threatening tone.

“Don’t worry...I’ll be gentle."

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18136193/chapters/43032029

Tagged: @just-call-me-no-name @silentwhispofhope @nightshadow4713 @slightlylunatic @efiicitia

#devil may cry v #devil may cry #dmc v #dmc 5 #dmcv #V dmc #V #V x reader #v x self insert #fanfic #chapter 7 #Ebony and Ivory #ebony and ivory chapter 7

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thatseventiesbitch · 2 years ago

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@einsteinsugly said: Yay! The whole T9S verse, even with my own personal edits, is just so unfathomable to me. Mostly the Jackie and Kelso parts, because Jackie would never go back to him. Not in a healthy state, anyway.

Jackie deserves so much better than the fate T9S has given her, which is the main reason T9S irks me. If the story was pushed to 1998-9, E/D's daughter wasn't named Leia, and Jackie and Kelso weren't a thing (maybe an offscreen J/H ending, with their daughter joining Lucy [not Leia] on her adventures?), I'd be legitimately excited. Alas, the premise is solid, but the details suck.

Anywho, since Eric and Donna's travel bug was cut short in my TWA verse in 1985 because of Kate, I can totally see them dealing with an unplanned pregnancy. Not in 1980-2, though. Because as I said in my reply to your essay on T9S's premise, I honestly see Donna having an abortion in most cases, since she and Eric are so far from being ready, it would be a disservice to their child. To go through the same turmoil she did.

The only times I see her not having one is if Eric (or Jackie, maybe) spilled the beans about her pregnancy before she could nip it in the bud (like in season 6, if she was pregnant), or if she and Eric were separated (for whatever reason). and her aching heart overruled her head (like in Drops of Jupiter). And Eric wouldn't even fathom naming his daughter Leia, because Leia was a sexual fantasy. Not someone he idolized, like Luke, per se.

To me, the unexpected pregnancy would have to realistically occur between 1983-7. After they're done with college, and are young, traveling professionals (they're working in Cape Town, South Africa in my verse), only for it to be unexpectedly cut short. Speaking of which, I have a bunch of chapters of Ebony and Ivory (the main E/D fic in my verse) written, but I only have three chapters posted. All of my stuff is on AO3 at this point (I only posted on FF in the very beginning), and I have a bunch of ficlets, moodboards, and essays within my verse in the Eric and Donna tag. And the Jackie and Hyde tag. And the Red and Kitty tag...

Yeah, I don’t blame anybody for not being interested in That 90′s Show. Different strokes for different folks, and all that. If Eric and Donna were treated the way Jackie and Hyde are being treated, I’d be effing pissed too.

I think circumstances outside the show/characters led to Jackie and Kelso being written as back together, and that’s really dumb, lol. I’m with you - Jackie could have appeared alone without mentioning any romantic partner, so it’s all left up to fans’ imaginations. Or sure, mention that she’s going home to Hyde off-screen. But the writers/producers have shown that they don’t have that kind of creativity, unfortunately. They were unwilling to do it when Topher left in season 8, too.

I have a lot of questions about That 90′s Show and skepticism too, but hey, I haven’t even seen it yet so what do I know? I’m going to reserve judgement until it comes out. Maybe it will suck. Maybe it will be great. Probably somewhere in between. I will take what I like and use it for inspiration, and I’ll ignore the rest, same as always with this show. It has disappointed me before and I’m sure it will again, but that’s why fanfic exists!

I don’t think Donna would get an abortion, but there are a lot of different ways to interpret the characters and of course we’re each entitled to our own. When she thought she was pregnant in the show, abortion wasn’t something that seemed to be on the table. The characters all sort of acted like it was inevitable that if Donna was pregnant, she’d be having the baby. Brooke and Kelso’s unexpected pregnancy was treated the same way. Roe v. Wade happened in 1973 so abortion was certainly legal and available (especially in cities probably, like Madison, Milwaukee or Chicago) but I don’t think it was by any means common. At least, not in Point Place.

I think Donna would be well informed about her options, though, and I think she would think about them seriously if something like this happened. I also think that finishing college would be a deal-breaker for her. And she wouldn’t want to rush into marriage, just because she was being rushed into parenthood. Eric would have to react better than he did last time, too. I think he’s capable of acting more maturely, though, and I also think that fatherhood would be something Eric would take seriously and would be the catalyst for him to finally grow up.

Hmm, I think their kid would be raised with a lot of love and support, not only from Eric and Donna but from Red and Kitty. I bet Leia had a pretty happy childhood (albeit imperfect). One of the things I’m looking forward to about That 90′s Show - other than Eric and Donna’s on-screen reunion! - is seeing Red and Kitty interact with their granddaughter. I have a feeling they helped an awful lot when Leia was small.

#einsteinsugly #that 70s show #that 70's show #that 90s show #that 90's show #eric and donna #eric x donna #eric forman #donna pinciotti #leia forman #red and kitty #red x kitty

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wiypt-writes · 4 years ago

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Too Loose And You’ll Lose It

Ch7: Old Habits Die Hard

Part 2

Co-written with @icanfeelastormbrewing

Summary: It’s the day of Pooch’s wedding, emotions are running high and it all comes to a dramatic conclusion.

Pairing: Jake Jensen x OFC Stella Stevenson

Warnings: Bad language and a whole heap of angst. Smut (NSFW, 18+)

A/N: So here is part 2 of Chapter 7…and it’s explosive! Translation: Chinga tu madre, Cabrón = Go fuck your mother, asshole.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. We do not own any characters in this series bar Stella Stevenson and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

TLAYLI Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 7 Part 1

Lay your demons at the door, this is what we're fighting for, trying to clear the air but nobody's talking. We've been breathing this disease, trying to find a way to see, but the end is in your eyes, let's finish this tonight.

“What I don’t get,” Jensen looked at the bridesmaid who watched him with rapt attention, twisting a strand of hair round her finger, “is why come to Mexico and not get married on the beach?”

“Well they thought about it, but then Jolene decided she didn’t want to get covered in sand.” The red-head shot back. “So they chose this terrace, it’s kinda on the beach, I mean, you can see the ocean.”

“But if you don’t want to get sandy, why come here in the first place?”

“Because it’s cheaper.” She shrugged.

“So you’re saying Pooch is a cheapskate.” Jensen raised his eyebrow and she hesitated before she shook her head.

“No, that’s…” she began to talk, protesting that wasn’t what she was saying when he heard Roque shout out Stella’s nickname.

“Hey, Arty!”

Jake instantly glanced over his shoulder to look for her, and when he saw her, the air was completely knocked from his lungs.

Her dress was a gorgeous watercolor-like ombre blue. The deepest of sky blue shade covering her shoulders with wide straps and a deep v-neck line that wrapped at her breasts and it lightened just at the lower ribs to a cotton blue, before trailing down at the hemline in a pale blue almost white shade. The cut exposed her leg to mid-thigh, giving just a peek of the petunia inked into her skin. Her hair was pulled back off her face in an elegant, sleek pony tail and her lips popped a deep, burnt red. Her blue eyes stood out under thick lashes and perfectly lined eyebrows, the rest of her make up remaining neutral. She'd only been in the sun a day, but just as it always did, it had kissed her body in a way that made each little freckle pop and her entire frame glow.

The salty sea air and sunshine always looked good on Stella Stevenson and today, the overall effect made Jensen's mouth water.

“Holy shit.” He muttered, turning away from the girl and conversation without so much as a goodbye, leaving her stood there shooting daggers at his back.

Stella smiled as Roque kissed her cheek, then Cougs and finally Clay before she stepped back and smiled as their Colonel’s arm curled around the slim, petite brunette to his right.

“Stel, this is Emma, Emma this is Stella.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” Emma smiled, “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Why doesn’t that fill me full of confidence?” Stella laughed and Emma shook her head, smiling.

“Oh, no, I assure you, it’s all been good!”

As the two women continued to chat and laugh, Jake stood there, waiting for his turn, hands jammed into the pockets of his dress slacks. Eventually, Stella nodded and turned to him and he flashed her a smile.

“You know, that’s the second day in a row I’ve seen you looking like a grown up!” She quickly scanned him up and down, taking in his well-fitted, steel grey suit. The top button of his jacket fastened, nipping in at his slim waist and spanning over his broad chest and shoulders. The crisp white dress shirt underneath stood out against the suit, and matched his white pocket swatch, the entire ensemble pulled together by the steel grey tie which matched his jacket and slacks.

As she was looking, Jake leaned forward, her perfume sending him lightheaded as always. He placed a gentle peck to her cheek, his chin brushing her ear slightly. “You look stunning.” He whispered, and he didn’t miss the goose-bumps that appeared on her skin as she swallowed and pulled away.

“Thanks.” She stood still, simply looking at him, and the two of them were locked in a gaze before Stella cleared her throat, breaking the spell. “You guys know where we’re supposed to be seated?”

“Yeah, we’re on the right,” Clay gestured, “Grooms side or whatever.”

The gang moved to find their seats, Jensen stepping forward ready to offer Stel his arm but Roque beat him to it.

“Always the gentleman, huh?” She smiled at him and he chuckled, a deep, low timbre rumbling from his chest.

“You know me, Arty.”

Jake watched them go, before he gave a yelp and clutched at his side, glaring at Cougar.

“Stop drooling, Jensen.” Cougar peered at him from underneath his hat, smirking as Jake rubbed at the place on his ribs where he had dug him with his elbow.

“I’m not drooling, shut up Cougs.”

Thankfully, Cougar left it there and they moved to take their seats along the row that Clay, Emma, Roque and Stella had already occupied. Cougar, whether on purpose or not, reached the end of the row first and slid in next to Stella, separating her from Jensen. Jensen rolled his eyes, but before he could get too pissed about it, Pooch arrived, in a simple black pinstripe three piece with an ivory and red striped tie, and made his way down the aisle, greeting everyone. He stopped at the row that contained the Losers and smiled, Jensen pulling him into a hug, clapping his shoulder as he pulled away.

The thing with weddings, is that no one can actually tell you were the day goes. They seem to pass in a whirl and Pooch’s was no exception. What felt like mere seconds after The Groom had arrived, but was in fact more near to twenty minutes, the music started and Jolene appeared at the large arch at the back of the terrace, walking slowly with her dad down the aisle, in a gorgeous knee-length fitted lace dress, which set off her curves and legs perfectly, her curly ebony hair pinned up elegantly at the back of her head. As she reached Pooch, she reached up and straightened his tie and Stella heard a “Pay up, Captain” to her right. She turned to see Roque reaching over Emma, handing Clay a twenty, not even looking at him, and she let out a soft snort, shaking her head.

The Bride and Groom exchanged simple vows and Pooch head tears in his eyes as he made his declaration. At that point, Jake couldn’t help but take a glance at Stel to find her looking down at her hands, the fingers of her left twisting the white gold and ruby solitaire ring that sat on her right ring finger, a gift from him for her twenty-first. He swallowed a little, as he hadn’t seen her wear it in a while before she glanced up, and he took the opportunity to study her pretty profile for a second before he turned his attention back to the front for the ring exchange. Before long the new Mr and Mrs Pooch headed down the red carpet in the middle of the aisle to cheers and the guests filed their way back inside for drinks whilst the staff set up the outside terraced area for the reception.

To Jake’s delight, there was no huge stuffy sit down meal, it was just a large buffet which meant he could eat what he wanted and how much he wanted, which suited him perfectly. What didn’t suit him, however, was that he didn’t see that much of Stella, at all. Post eating and listening to the speeches, whether intentionally or not, she avoided him, spending most of the time sipping champagne and cocktails chatting to Emma and few of Jolene’s friends. Jake was left to mooch around, mainly with Cougar who was absolutely trying to get into the blonde bridesmaid’s panties. Unfortunately, she was stuck like glue to the red headed one that Jake wasn’t interested in.

“You make a shit wingman.” Cougar gave a jab to Jensen’s rib with his elbow as the two girls wandered off.

“Good job I’m not a pilot then.” Jensen shrugged, taking a pull from his beer as his eyes scanned the room for Stella.

At that point they both got strong slaps on their shoulders as Pooch drew up behind them both, leaning between them a little.

“Your momma was a pilot.”

Cougar and Jensen both looked at one another before they slowly turned to glance at Pooch.

“Did you just drop a momma joke on your wedding day?” Jensen snorted

“A shit one at that.” Cougar added, tipping his hat slightly with the neck of his bottle.

“Come on guys! As you have just said it’s my wedding day so let’s have a drink together before Jolene’s, sorry my wife’s,” at that he grinned, “bridesmaids hunt you down again.”

“What if I want to be hunted?” Cougar shrugged

“Hence why I said before. Pay attention Cougs.”

“Chinga tu madre, Cabrón.” Cougar smirked, causing both Pooch and Jensen to snort as they knew that insult very well having heard it a few times.

“I dare you to say it to her face.” Pooch looked at him as Cougar merely smirked, giving him a wink.

Pooch rolled his eyes, “what about you, Jensen?”

“I don’t wanna fuck Momma Pooch!”

“Why? What’s wrong with her?” Pooch looked at him.

“What? Nothing, that’s just gross!” Jensen pulled a face.

“He’s considering a trip down memory lane instead.” Cougar teased and Pooch groaned.

“Dude! Seriously, you need to get over it!”

At that Jake turned to look at Cougar. “No I’m not, stop making shit up!” Cougar shrugged, smirking slightly and simply held his gaze as Jensen groaned. “Whatever, man.”

Cougar merely shrugged, as chilled as ever whilst Pooch laughed and handed them a drink from a passing tray. “Well, I think that deserves a toast. To the first married Loser…oh, wait, that would be me! And to Jensen who seriously needs to stop flogging a dead horse!”

Jensen took a deep breath, once upon a time he’d fully expected to be married by now, full disclosure, to Stella. Maybe a kid on the way if there wasn’t one around already. And that thought gave him a perfect way out of this current train of conversation.

“How long till Baby Pooch comes along?”

“Dude, if it was up to me he’d be on the way already!” Pooch grinned.

“He?” Jensen shook his head. “Nah man, you want a girl.”

“What? No! I want a little Pooch. Why would I want a girl?”

“A girl always loves her daddy.” Jensen shrugged. “Like Gracie, man, she’s awesome. There’s just something about seeing her with Robert. It’s cute.” He paused and grinned. “I want a girl. Imma call her Daisy.”

At that Cougar let out a snort as Pooch began to howl with laughter.

“Who’s Daisy?” Clay asked as he appeared with Roque, the pair of them smirking at something.

“Jensen’s first born. Apparently.” Pooch wiped his eyes.

“Wait, what?” Roque frowned and turned to Jensen. “You have a kid?”

“No, it’s a hypothetical one.” Jensen shook his head.

“Good.” Roque blew out a breath. “Do me a favour and never reproduce, Jensen.”

“Fuck you Roque,” Jake snapped back. “I’d make a great dad.”

“Yeah, well, you might wanna start ‘daddying’ that chick in the red dress over there, because she’s eye-fucking you shamelessly.” Roque nodded over his shoulder and Jake turned around. He gave the girl a once over, she was pretty but…his trail of thought died as he spotted Stella was stood alone at the bar. He necked his drink and holding up his glass he stated, “need a refill.” before he turned and headed over the room.

“Yeah, sure.” Pooch rolled his eyes as Cougar gave a low chuckle.

“Told ya.”

“Man he just can’t help himself, can he?” Roque shook his head as the three of them watched Jensen who approached Stella, his hand dropping to the small of her back as he leaned over to talk to her.

“Nope” Clay let out a sigh as Stell laughed at something Jake said. “Ahh, leave him to it, we can always do damage control, as usual where he is concerned.”

“How do you damage control a suicide bomb?” Pooch looked at Clay and Roque snorted.

“Pooch is right, dude is basically a hand grenade right now.”

“Don’t get involved guys.” Clay shook his head and Cougar nodded.

“I agree with boss. If Jensen’s gonna pull the pin, he can dive on it.”

“The problem will come when he tries to ‘pull her pin’ and she kicks his ass. But, fortunately I will be enjoying my wedding night.” Pooch shrugged. “See ya, Losers. Don’t have too much fun!”

The three of them watched him wander off over the room, shouting to someone, and Clay’s eyes fell on his date, Emma, who was smiling at him and waving from her spot at a table.

“I will also be enjoying Pooch’s wedding evening.” Clay winked and walked off.

Roque turned to look at Cougar. “Don’t even think of it…”

Cougar merely chuckled, tipped his hat and also wandered off, hands in his pockets as he sauntered over to a group of girls.

“That’s okay, just leave me here, I’m good!” Roque called after them before he let out a sigh. “Assholes.”

****

As the hours passed they drank, a lot. And naturally, where alcohol is involved inhibitions start to lower. There was a lot of fun being had, a lot of jokes being shared and other stupid activities being partaken in, such as a raucous drinking game Stella and Jake played against Pooch’s uncle and his brother.

Which they lost, spectacularly.

Stella was feeling fairly light headed thanks to the mix of champagne, beer and cocktails running through her system, along with a few shots of tequila and somehow, she had no idea how, the two of them ended up on the dance floor, dancing to some really random shit when ‘La Bamba’ started playing. Jake grabbed Stella’s hand with a whoop of joy and started twirling her round, her face creasing in laughter as they let loose, Jake showing off his pretty neat footwork

“I thought you said he wasn’t taken?” The red headed bridesmaid gestured to Jake as she stood next to Pooch and he snorted.

“He’s not”

“Could have fooled me.”

“It’s complicated.” Pooch shrugged. “Long story short, she’s taken, he’s not. He wishes she wasn’t as it’s his fault she is.” He turned to the woman besides him. “If that makes any sense.”

From the look on her face, it made no sense at all, which wasn’t surprising to Pooch as he struggled to make sense of Jensen and Stella’s fucked up dynamic, but before she could reply there was a slap on his shoulder.

“Ten bucks says they end up in bed together,” Roque slurred.

“No way man.” Pooch shook his head, “she won’t cheat on Evan.”

“Fuck that guy,” Roque snorted. “Look, she’s hammered, here alone, I’m calling it.”

Pooch was about to tell Roque that Evan present or not, Stella would cut Jensen’s balls off if he tried anything when the familiar opening bars of ‘Don’t Stop Believing’ cut across the dance floor.

Both Stella and Jake paused a little, Jake running his hand through his hair as he gestured to the tables, clearly asking Stella if she wanted to quit dancing when she shook her head, giving him a smile, which Jensen returned as she took his hand, the pair of them beginning to sing and dance along.

“Twenty bucks,” Roque hiccupped, upping his stake.

“You’re on.” Pooch shook his hand as the bridesmaid snorted.

“And you’re losing.”

Pooch watched her go and then turned back to the dancefloor to see Jake and Stella now dancing pretty close...

This had always been their song. That was why Jensen had asked if she wanted to sit it out when it had come on, but she’d refused, and as such he’d been twirling her round to the music just like he always had. After one spin, they end up facing one another, singing very loudly as Jake threw his arms up and around, Stella snorting and laughing at his antics.

“Do you remember dancing to this at prom?” Jensen grinned as he continued to throw his arms around wildly, Stella shaking her head. He smiled, his mind straying back to that night, how amazing the entire evening had been, not least for the fact it had been the first time they’d fully given themselves to one another. He remembered laying there, after, as they both giggled and kissed and cuddled, thinking there and then that was it for him, there’d never be another girl who came close.

And then he’d pulled a Jensen, and ruined it.

“Of course I do.” Stella smiled. “Life was simpler back then, huh?”

“Isn’t it always?” Jensen asked as he spun her back round, pulling her in so her back was to his chest, hands dropping to her hips as the electric guitar solo struck up signalling the song was almost at and end. He felt Stella take a deep breath.

“Well we were kids.”

“But it was easy.” Jensen dropped his chin to her shoulder, his cheek brushing hers. “It was just you and me and the rest of our lives ahead.”

Stella tilted her head to look at him as the song faded into ‘I’ve Had The Time Of My Life’ and she pulled away, turning to face him with a shrug.

“Didn’t quite work out the way we thought though did it.” She asked, her hands sliding round his neck.

Jensen sighed, his fingers flexing against her hips. “I know. I fucked up.” He swallowed, the lump thick in his throat and Stella shook her head.

“Don’t.” She warned. “Not now.”

But Jensen wasn’t listening. He had to get it off his chest, he couldn’t stand the sick, hot feeling he got every time he thought about her and Evan. He needed to tell her, even if she told him there was no chance for them ever again, at least he’d know.

“No, just listen to me, Stelly, please.” His eyes locked onto hers. “There’s not a day goes by I don’t regret it. You know that, right? And no matter what happens I’ll always-“

He was cut off as Stella landed a harsh, stinging slap to his left cheek, his head whipping to the right. He took a deep breath, stunned, before he turned his head to face her, shocked splashed across his handsome features.

A few people around them stopped dancing, and Stella could hear a few hushed whispers, along with a louder shout of ouch, from who she had no idea. She opened her mouth to say something, the tears spilling from her eyes before she realised she needed to get out of there, and fast. So she did.

She hurried out of the room towards the hotel lobby and elevator, wiping the tears that were falling down her face. She knew she shouldn’t have done that, and maybe it was a little harsh, but the anger she felt towards Jake at that moment in time was insurmountable. He had left her, twice basically, and continued to fuck with her head, and then had the audacity to try and ...well, she didn't even know what he was trying to do. Her head was a mess, a fuckery of conflicting feelings, and she was as drunk as she could remember being in a long time, which wasn't helping.

She was also well aware that she'd just made a complete scene at Pooch's wedding, potentially seen by his entire family and friends, and that not only embarrassed her, it also made her feel like crap for being that asshole guest that everyone would be talking about for months to come.

*****

Jensen ignored both Roque and Clay who had crowded round to ask him what the hell he'd done to deserve a slap, but he simply pushed them out of the way, only one thing on his mind, getting to Stella and making her listen. He hurried out of the room, skidding to a slightly unsteady halt in the corridor before he jogged down the hallway and into the lobby where he spotted her at the elevator.

“Stel!" He yelled her name in an attempt to stop her, drawing intrigued and surprised looks from the guests and staff alike in the atrium. "Stella, wait!"

She didn't turn around, but he could tell she'd heard him, well, everyone in the lobby had heard him, but if that wasn't evidence enough to show that his calls across the foyer had reached her, the fact that she began angrily slamming her hand against the elevator call button certainly was. Jensen hurried across the shiny tiled surface, the heels of his dress shoes clicking as he went, expertly side stepping a couple who were walking through with cases, cursing as he saw Stella stepping into the elevator. He continued running, but just as he skidded to a halt he caught a glimpse of her angry tear stained face as the doors shut.

"Fuck!" He shouted, banging his hand on the wall just above the call panel. Spinning, he almost collided with a young couple who were looking at him, and the man shot him a filthy glare as he pushed between them, running to the stairs. He took them two, sometimes three at a time as he raced to the fourth floor in an attempt to catch her, and he burst into the corridor in time to see her stalking to her room.

He paused to take a breath, relief flooding his system at the fact he'd manage to catch her before she got to her room, before he realised he still had to stop her.

“Stel!” His shout was a desperate plea, and she spun to face him, her face surprised clearly at how he'd managed to get there so quick, and whilst she was still he took his chance. “Look, I’m sorry I made you upset but-“

With that she gave an angry growl almost as she turned around and carried on, the heel of her shoe catching a little as she did, causing her to stumble and Jensen felt his anger boiling over, this was fucking ridiculous, and here he was shouting down a hotel corridor, to her fucking back.

"For fucks sake, Estella, will you a stop being a bitch and just listen to me?"

At that she stopped dead and wheeled round, sheer venomous disdain etched across her face. "I am SICK of listening to you Jacob." She spat his full name back at him, in response to him using hers. "It’s always the fucking same. You know if anything I should have listened to you years ago when you dumped me and stayed the fuck away from you and your stupid-"

"You just slapped me, Stella!" Jensen exclaimed "In front of everyone in the fucking room! The least you can do is hear me out, I deserve that surely?"

"You don’t deserve shit." She snorted. "Now take a hint and leave me the fuck alone!"

"What, like your boyfriend?"

The words flew out of Jensen's mouth before he had even registered them, and from the look on Stella’s face she was as shocked as he was that he'd gone there. She took a deep breath, looked at the floor before she raised her head and stared at him, fresh tears in her eyes and Jensen sighed in frustration at himself.

"You know, just when I think you can’t go any lower." Her voice was soft and sad now, and Jensen stayed silent as he knew that had been a low blow. She took another shaky breath, shaking her head. "I’ve never come so close to hating you as I have right now. You are an asshole."

"Stell, look, I’m sorry. I shouldn't have said that..."

"Go to hell." She stated, her voice flat as she turned and carried on walking towards her room.

"Cougar told me what Evan said." Jensen blurted out, more words he hadn't planned on saying, and once more she stopped dead.

"Fucking-"

"Did you say it back?"

There was no answer.

"You didn't, did you?" Jensen continued to press as she started walking towards her again. "That's why he isn't here, aint it? Because you couldn't say it, and you fell out, and-"

"You tell me," she stopped at the door to her room, foraging in her purse for her key, "I mean, clearly you have all the answers and know everything about how I feel and-"

"Damnit Stella, just-"

"You know what?" She spun to face him as he stopped besides her. "Evan might not be perfect but he’s never dumped me for no fucking reason, then used me as and when he wanted. But, I suppose that’s on me because I was never strong enough to tell you to fuck off and now that I am, you don’t like it." She raised her hand and jabbed him in the chest. "You don’t like the fact I’m not there when you want to fuck something because I’ve got someone else in my life-" another jab "-someone who… who loves me and I-."

"And you what Stel?" Jensen interrupted her rant with a snort and she fell silent, her eyes flashing. "See you can’t even say it, can you?"

Stella glared at him, a look that would make anyone else quiver in their shoes but not him, not now. He was too far gone trying to make his point, trying to make her see his point, to care how angry he was making her.

“Just admit it Stella," he arched his eyebrow, stepping forward. He planted one hand by her head, palm flat on the surface of the door as he leaned closer to her, his voice level and even as he stated, “you don’t love him, you never will.”

“Fuck you.” Stella stumbled over her words a little, before her hands planted on his chest and she shoved him. Jake stepped back, slightly off balance more to the alcohol in his system than the force of her push, but he steadied himself, moving forwards again. She made to shove him once more but this time he was ready, and his hands caught her wrists, fingers curling round them as her room key fell to the floor.

“Fuck me yourself.” He shot. At that she shook her head and scoffed. “What’s the matter, Stel?” Jake’s voice dropped a little as his grip around her wrists tightened, and he pressed her further into the door, his head dropping, face inches from hers. “Scared you might like it, still?”

“Asshole.” Her voice was nothing more than a whisper and she pulled her arms violently to the side, Jake letting go. Once more she pushed him, this time he stepped away so she could bend and retrieve her room key from the floor, which took her a few attempts, her hand and eye coordination impaired from the drink. Eventually, she grabbed it and stood, a little unsteadily, turning her back to him.

As she slid the card into the slot, Jake was once more in her space behind her, his hands softly on her waist and he leaned towards her, his breath hot on her ear.

“Don’t be a chicken, Stel.” His voice was gravelly and he braced, waiting for another blow, but it never came. She swallowed a little, her chest heaving, and she made no attempt to stop his advances. She'd let go of what she had to say, and now she was physically proving him right in his assumptions and her denials

Emboldened by this, Jensen placed a soft kiss to her neck as she pushed the door to her room open, causing her breath to catch in her throat. She turned to him, her eyes locking into his and Jensen could see the conflict behind them. There was a war going on between her head and her heart and, had he been sober, Jensen probably would have walked away, knowing what he was doing was pretty shitty and unfair. But he wasn’t sober. He was drunk, and not just on alcohol but sheer desire for the woman stood in front of him. His Stelly. The girl he still loved.

As her large, clear blue eyes bounced across each of his whilst she grappled with her internal turmoil, Jake stood stock still waiting for her to make her move. He took a deep breath, expecting her to shove him away for that final time, and he would have taken it then, having already proven his point to both her and him, but then he saw it, that familiar darkening of her eyes.

The spark Stell still carried for him, that small flicker of a flame that for so long had been starved of oxygen, suddenly exploded and she reached out, grabbing his loose tie, bringing his lips crashing down to hers. Jake surged forward, pushing her backwards as he continued to kiss her, kicking the door to her room shut with his foot before he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, pouring every single bit of emotion and frustration he’d felt over the past few months into the kiss.

It was urgent, it was desperate, and the pair of them stumbled around the hotel room, Stella pushing his jacket off and tossing it to the floor somewhere before she yanked off his tie, her fingers moving to undo his shirt. Jake's hands fumbled with the floaty tulle skirt of her dress as he pulled it up around her waist, trailing hot kisses down the side of her neck whilst Stella pushed his shirt down his arms where he shrugged it off. Her hands planted on his chest as she smoothed her delicate palms over the solid planes of muscle, sliding them down over his defined abs and he gave a soft hiss as he felt her nimble fingers undoing the buckle of his belt. In a quick move that made her squeak slightly, he reached down and grabbed her ass, hauling her off the floor, her legs wrapping around his waist as he backed her up against the large sliding doors which led out to the balcony. His lips pressed back to hers whilst her back hit the thick glass a little harder than he had intended, drawing a soft grunt from her mouth as it rattled in the frame.

“Ow.” she mumbled against his mouth, grabbing a fist full of his hair and tugging harshly so he looked at her. He gave an apologetic grin she looked at him for a moment before her hands moved and plucked off his glasses, in a movement that really shouldn’t be hot but for some reason it always was. He took them from her, depositing them in his pocket as his lips gently latched onto her neck, sucking at the pulse point. A barely there whimper sounded in his ear as he nipped at her skin and his attention moved downwards, hot, open mouthed kisses traced down her sternum which was exposed between the deep V neckline of her dress. A low moan left her mouth and her hips pushed down against the bulge in his trousers and he pressed into her, giving her the friction she was asking for. Her hands skimmed down his spine, her fingers making his skin burn and prickle as they danced over his back, coming to rest on his broad shoulders , digging into his muscles as Jake pushed his hips up again, grinding against her.

Neither of them were thinking straight, it was way past that point. This was a pure, carnal desire between two, once-upon-a-time long term lovers, both desperate to scratch that deep itch that they still had for one another. But still Jake paused, pulling back so he could take a moment to look at her. She was slightly dishevelled, strands of her hair had fallen loose from her up-do, framing her heart shaped face. Her cheeks were flushed, lips swollen from his kisses, but it was her eyes which caught him. He'd always loved her eyes and now they were staring at him with a wild, lust filled look that he knew so well. He swallowed a little, before she moved her hands to his cheeks, pulling his face back to hers. Jake moaned into this kiss and his hands moved round her back, her feet landed on the floor as her back slipped slightly against the smooth surface she had been pressed against. Their mouths remained open, pressed together, sharing air as Jensen slid the zipper of her dress down, causing it to gape a little at the front and he reached up, thumbs gently running on the underside of the straps before he slid them down her arms, placing a soft kiss to each of her shoulders in turn. As he pushed the soft, blue chiffon of her dress down to her waist he couldn’t help the carnal growl that rumbled in his throat as he saw she wasn't wearing a bra.

"Fuck, Stel. You're beautiful. You’ve always been beautiful." He muttered, his lips back on hers as his hands cradled her face. She stepped out of her dress, his hands moving down to grip her hips, fingers curling over the softness of her flesh as he pushed her back against the cold surface of the window. His lips claimed hers again before he moved his mouth, nibbling his way down the column of her throat, tongue dipping into the hollow at the base of her neck, teeth grazing her collar bone as he mapped his way down her body in a way he had done so many times before.

Stella felt Jensen's hands sliding down her bare thighs as he sunk to the floor and her brain had barely registered the fact he was on his knees, when he hooked one leg over his shoulder, shifting her soaked panties to one side. At the first touch his mouth made to her inner thigh she sighed in pleasure, the raw scratch of his short beard a contrast to the warm, softness of his mouth as he moved upwards before he finally gave one long lick over her sex, dipping his tongue into her a little, causing her to cry out in pleasure, one hand falling to his head, the other palm slapping against the glass surface behind her. He repeated his action, his tongue flicking up through her sensitive outer lips and this time he sucked on her clit, causing her back to arch, her had dropping back in sheer pleasure as her shoulders pressed further onto the glass in an attempt to keep herself up-right, all the time writhing at his actions.

His tongue and lips worked in tandem, un-doing her lap by lap, all the time she was vaguely aware of the fact she was begging him not to stop, her words punctuated by gasps and pants, manicured nails digging into his scalp as her hand curled over his head, fingers tangling into his short hair. It wasn’t long before Stella felt that familiar tightening across her stomach and her leg trembled slightly as she fought to keep herself upright.

“Fuck, JJ,” she stuttered, as he let out a groan, the vibration so pleasurable it was almost painful as his tongue dipped in and out of her entrance, continuing to fuck her the way he had always been able to do. The burning in her stomach suddenly took over her entire body and she gave a loud cry as she came, her head falling forward before it rolled back again against the window with a hard thud as the world around her went silent. She grasped Jensen’s shoulder as her leg gave way and he quickly stood up, catching her easily, a grin on his face as she opened her eyes and looked at him, her pupils blown with lust, her thighs once more locked round his waist. He kissed her again, the kiss absolutely filthy as he stepped back and turned them, crossing the room where he dropped her gently onto the bed.

She knelt up on the soft mattress, her now almost completely loose hair falling over her face as she hooked her fingers into the belt loops of his dress slacks and pulled him to her. In one smooth, fluid movement of her hands she’d undone his flies before she slid his pants and boxers down in one swoop. She dropped her head and took him in her mouth without so much as a warning, her eyes locked onto his.

“Shit, Stel” he mumbled, his hands tangling into her hair, guiding her softly as she moved, her head bobbing back and forth before she pulled away to lick along the base of his shaft, tracing the vein in the underneath, and Jensen knew then if she carried on he was going to blow his load before he’d even gotten to the main event.

“Get up here.” His voice was low as he cupped her face and guided her back up, kissing her again. With a gentle shove, Jensen pushed her back on the bed, stepping out of his remaining clothes before he crawled over her, sliding her lace underwear down her long, smooth legs. He didn’t give her a chance to say anything before he gave her ankles a soft tug, pulling her down further on the bed, crawling between her thighs, his mouth tracing its way up from her belly to her breasts which were heaving, nipples pebbled in excitement. Knowing exactly what would leave her nothing short of a wreck underneath him, he turned his attention to her right breast, lapping and sucking, grazing with his teeth whilst his hand palmed at her left. She let out a soft, breathy moan, which was music to Jensen's ears as his mouth and hand traded places. He worked her over, till she was begging to feel him where she needed him, her knees clenching around his slim waist, desperate for something to help the burning that was between her legs. He shifted his position a little, propping himself up so he could kiss her deeply again, hands on either side of her face as he buried himself inside of her, with a loud groan.

“God you feel so good, Stel.” His mouth moved over her jaw to her ear as he praised her, nipping at the lobe. At his words Stella gave a loud groan as he thrust up into her again, deeply, burying himself to the hilt before he rotated his hips in a dirty grind, a move he knew drove her wild. She cried out, clawing at his back and he groaned as she tipped her hips up to meet his.

"You know,” another thrust, "he’ll never be able,” another thrust, “to fuck you the way I can," he rotated his hips for another grind which caused her once more to cry out, nails biting at his back as he drove a little deeper, "because he doesn’t know you like I do."

To prove his point, one hand moved and gently wrapped round the front of her throat, giving the gentlest of squeezes but he knew that would send her feral. It was something he had discovered a long time ago, being so in control the rest of the time, Stella loved when he would take over like this, dominate her a touch and whisper cheeky, dirty little things into ear. It had always driven her crazy and tonight was no exception. He’d succeeded in throwing fuel onto the fire that was already raging, and a sharp, strangled wail of his name stuttered from her lips as he felt her fluttering around him.

"You were made for me, Baby Girl." Jensen’s own voice was a low growl as his hips picked up their pace, Stella's head falling back onto the pillows as Jake's mouth claimed hers again, the kiss sloppy and desperate matching the rhythm of his thrusts.

Because he was. He was desperate for this woman. Desperate like he’d never been desperate before.

“Jakey.” She keened underneath him, hands still clawing the muscles of his back which were flexing under her touch, equally as needy for him as he was her. He reached down to hook a leg over his shoulder causing her to mewl loudly at the change of angle and depth as he continued to drive into her like his life depended on it. He bent over, mouth swallowing another loud moan as he did, feeling her sweat soaked skin slick against his.

“Fuck, baby I’m close,” he stuttered, his hips snapping back and forth, “see what you do to me?”

Her beautiful eyes were wide, her mouth pressed to his as she let out a broken lament as her walls fluttered around him again, causing him to almost purr in delight as she did. She was close, so fucking close. And it felt good. As his cock dragged in and out of her, the feel of him sliding up against her spot had her worked into a complete frenzy, and she was teetering right on that edge.

“Don’t stop,” she panted, her head falling back further onto the pillow as she grasped his arms whilst he continued to fuck her into the mattress. And then, her stomach tightened and she felt the rush of pleasure that she knew was the end, beginning to wash over her. "Oh, God, Jake...I'm..."

"Come on, Stel." Jake growled, his hips still pumping in and out of her "Cum for me, Baby, just like you always do."

At his words, she gave a low, sultry whimper and her eyes fluttered shut, nails digging into his biceps as she shuddered underneath him, her back arching as her walls clamped down on him, milking his cock and that was it. He was done for, just like he always was when it came to this woman.

“Shit, Stel," he groaned as he felt his abs tighten as he came with a force he hadn't felt in a long time. His hips faltered as he cried out, shooting his load straight into her, before after one final, deep thrust he collapsed on top of her, his face buried into her neck.

The room was silent bar the sounds of their deep, heavy breathing as they both came down, fighting for control. Jake felt her hands gently move round to tangle in his hair, nails scratching his scalp and he raised his head, eyes still closed, enjoying her touch.

“Jake,” she finally whispered, still slightly out of breath but he didn't miss the tremble in her voice and he raised his head, opening his eyes to see her looking back at him. Her cheeks were flushed, hair all over the place and fuck, he’d never see anything so damned beautiful in his life as her undone underneath him. But her eyes, they were misting over with tears and he swallowed, shaking his head.

"Stel… " he began, and she turned her head away from his, screwing her eyes shut as her face crumpled.

"Fuck, what did we just do?" She whispered, opening her eyes and she looked at the wall to her right for a moment before Jensen tipped her face back round to him.

"Don't." He shook his head, pressing a kiss to the bridge of her nose. "Don't do this, not now." He pressed their foreheads together, his nose bumping hers and she gave a quiet sniff as he pressed his lips to hers softly.

“Do you want me to go?” He didn’t really want to ask the question, for fear of her answer but she shook her head, her eyes a little lost as she looked at him.

“No, I don’t. And that’s the problem.” She whispered.

He wanted to try and assure her that it was all okay and that they hadn’t done anything wrong but his words died in his throat, because he knew technically they had. Whatever was going on with her and Agent Shitname, she was still with him, meaning she’d cheated and he knew that would be cutting her up inside.

And now Jensen felt like shit for putting her in that position.

He gently pecked her lips again and with a soft movement he pulled out from her and lay on his back, his hand rubbing his chest. After a little pause he felt Stella turn into him and her head lay on his chest, his arm curling round her shoulder as she sniffed a little, turning her face into his sternum.

“It’s gonna be okay, Stelly.” He pressed a kiss to her head.

It was lame, but it was all he could thing to say. He wasn’t surprised when she didn’t reply, and there wasn’t another word spoken between the two of them before they both fell into a deep, exhausted sleep.

****

Stella woke the next morning, her bare back pressed into a hard, muscled chest and didn't even need to turn round to know whose arm was thrown round her waist. As the memories of what had happened the night before flooded her brain she squeezed her eyes closed, taking a deep, shuddering breath, fighting the urge to snuggle further back into the arms of the man she knew so well. Instead, she gently untangled herself from Jensen and without a glance back headed quietly into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. She glanced in the mirror and grimaced as she saw the previous day’s make up was streaked all over her face. Grabbing her cleanser from her toiletries bag she wiped it away, tossing the cotton pads into the trash before she turned on the shower and stepped into the stream. She stood there for a while, her face titled to meet the water as it beat down on her, washing away the silent tears that were pouring down her cheeks.

Ten minutes or so later she stepped out, almost working on auto pilot and dried herself off, before grabbing one of the hotel provided towel robes. Once wrapped in it, she squeezed the water out of her hair, dragged a brush through it and then opened the door.

Just as expected, Jensen was still flat out in the bed, although he'd now turned onto his back. It had always been a joke between the two of them that he could sleep through a damned earthquake after a heavy drinking session, yet never failed to hear his alarm. Stella took a moment to study his face, a face she knew by heart, every freckle and line, the curve of his nose and angle of his jaw. Biting her lip, she moved towards the back of the room, made herself a coffee as quietly as she could before she retrieved her phone from her purse that had been tossed down carelessly the night before and headed out onto the balcony, closing the doors behind her.

She sank into one of the chairs, tucking her legs under her and glanced at the screen. There wasn't much battery left but she had a couple of missed calls. One from Clay and another form Cougar, both probably wondering where she had bailed to, and one from Evan. She swallowed as she also spotted she had a message from him too.

Ev- Hey, Pumpkin. Look, I'm so sorry about how things went down the other night. I overreacted, and that's on me. I really hope you're having a good time. Please call me when you can, and we can talk when you're home xx

Stella felt the guilt twist in her gut even more and she gave a sigh, tossing her phone onto the table.

"He’ll never be able to fuck you the way I can, because he doesn’t know you like I do."

Jakes voice rattled around her head and she took a dep breath, looking over the balcony down at the pool area below. Try as she might, she couldn't even deny he was right. The sex with Evan wasn't bad, in fact she would go as far as saying it was pretty damned good, likely to be earth shattering to most women. But, to her, there had always been something that held her back.

And now she was forced to admit head on what she'd been trying to deny for months. It was because he wasn't Jake.

Jake Jensen had worked her way into his heart from the day they had met when they were merely eleven years old, and try as she might she couldn't shake him. That year they had been apart, she'd tried so hard, and had been sure she'd managed, and then she'd seen him and they'd fucked, and fallen back into that awful cycle of being together but not being together.

She couldn't stay with Evan. She'd known that even before last night had happened but the fact she'd basically opened her legs so easily for Jensen went to prove that she didn't love Evan, and she wasn't sure she ever would.

She took a shuddering breath and then her attention jerked upwards as Jake opened the balcony door, his hair mussed, top half bare as he rubbed his eyes, his glasses in his hand.

"Hey." he offered, almost shyly and Stella gave him a nod.

"Hi."

There was an awkward silence as he sat down on the chair opposite her, slipping his glasses onto his nose. He watched as she avoided his gaze, glancing over the balcony, occasionally looking at her hands which were worrying one another. Eventually, he could stand it no more and he reached over to take her hands in his.

"Stel, look, last night..."

"Last night was a mistake." She spoke, her eyes locking onto his. Jensen felt his gut churn, her words an icy blade digging into his heart.

"So, you’re just gonna pretend like it didn't happen and go back to that prick?" Jensen looked at her, his voice measured and Stella shook her head.

"No, I can't do that. Not now. Me and Evan are over, I'm gonna tell him when we get back. I don't love him, you're right. Because if I did I would never have given in and slept with you." She licked her lips.

Jake swallowed and looked down at his hands which were clasped around hers before he raised his head to stare her straight in the eye. "I'm sorry." he said eventually. "I'm sorry if you felt like, well, like I pushed you..."

"No, that's not what I'm saying." She squeezed his fingers. "I just, me and you, we can't keep doing this. We go round and round in circles and…" She took a shuddering breath as she trailed off, unable to articulate what she was trying to say.

"No, I get it." Jake gave her a small smile. He let go of her hands and stood up. "I should probably erm, go,” he gestured to the door, “I need to shower before breakfast and the taxi to the airport arrives."

"Okay." She nodded.

She watched him open the door to head inside, before he paused and turned to face her.

"I know you said what happened last night was a mistake, but I just want you to know that I wouldn’t change it for the world."

With that he gave her a final smile and headed back into the hotel room. Stella could see him through the glass doors as he hastily dressed, before without so much as another word he left, and as she heard the door to her room close, the tears once more began to fall.

**** Chapter 7 Part 3

#too loose and you'll lose it #jake jensen #jake jensen x ofc #jake jensen x original female character #the losers #the losers fan fiction #chris evans #chris evans characters

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prolestariwrites · 5 years ago

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Time To Go [8]: Shut Up And Start Talking

Fandom: Devil May Cry Rating: M Characters: Nero, Dante, Vergil, Kyrie, Nico, Trish, Morrison Tags: Mystery, Humor, Missing Person, First Time, Family Drama, Family Bonding, Post-Canon Chapter: 8/9 Chapter [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7]

Summary: When Kyrie goes missing, Nero goes on a desperate search to find her. Unfortunately, Dante and Vergil go too. Sparda boys shenanigans, fighting demons, a smattering of family drama, and male bonding (otherwise known as Nero’s worst nightmare). Please check it out below, or you can read on FFNet or AO3. Beta read by @copper-wasp.

Now posted! Chapter 8: Shut Up And Start Talking, in which the guys find a whole lot more than just Kyrie.

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Nero takes a steadying breath as he stares at the building across the street. The address Morrison had provided had led them to what looks like a closed shop, an apartment on top, in the middle of a perfectly normal street in Fortuna. He had let them borrow a car, and Nico drove as she rattled off what little she remembered about the demon named Mammon. The city is just starting to wake up, the bagel shop on the corner opening its doors and a smattering of people leaving for work or school, but mostly the street is quiet.

He checks his holster out of habit, then reaches back to press his fingers on Red Queen's handle. It's a ritual he usually does before walking into a job, reassuring himself that he has both at hand. His arm is laden with extra weight, however, and he glances at his wrist as it moves to his side, flexing his hand under the weapon Artemis that is now attached to him. He tugs the sleeve of his jacket down, wanting to remain as inconspicuous as possible for as long as they can. Sneaking into the building is definitely their best play.

Artemis had seemed the easiest one to choose, not wanting to be left out when Dante and Vergil had squabbled over their choices as they strapped weapons to their bodies. They look more than strange now with so much gear, and Nero's brow twitches when he examines them both next. Vergil is already holding Yamato in his right hand, Cerberus in his other as Nico straps Beowulf to his limbs. The ensemble makes his appearance stick out in the pale light of the morning, and Nero grimaces.

Dante is no better, wearing the cowboy hat gifted to him by Nico, Nevan strapped to his front and his Devil Sword strapped to his back. He was going to bring Agni and Rudra too, but after the two swords argued over who would wear the hat Dante had left them behind. Nero had wondered how he would use his guns or his swords with the scimitars as well, but decided that whatever answer he received wouldn't be worth the ask in the end.

He remembers what the motel clerk had said about them looking like the circus, and Nero has to agree at this point.

"Ready to roll?" Dante asks.

"Shouldn't we have a plan first?" The brothers look at him in slight confusion, and he sighs. "Kyrie is in there. We can't just bust in with guns blazing. We need to be careful."

"Let me go in," Vergil says. "I'll kill them all before they even realize I'm there."

"We're not killing anyone either, not unless we have to," growls Nero. "They might be humans. And if we kill them, then we won't find out why they did this, and if they're working for someone."

Vergil grumbles a half-hearted agreement as Dante tilts his head up. "You got an idea, kid?"

"...No," he admits, looking back at the brick building.

"Y'all are a bunch of dumbasses," Nico says as she straightens. She pulls out her cell phone and swipes the screen, giving it a tap as she scrolls. "Can't believe I gotta rely on damn Wikipedia for this shit. I got plenty of research on Mammon in my van." She gives Nero a scowl on the last word before turning back to her phone.

Nero swallows in embarrassment as she reads. "Okay, Mammon is one of the seven princes of hell. Can't believe you guys haven't faced him before."

Dante shrugs. "They all kind of blur together. But the name doesn't ring a bell."

"His thing is greed. Money, wealth, profit, that kind of thing."

"That's why they want this fortune," Vergil says. "If Mammon really is behind this, it makes sense."

"But how do we kill him?" Nero asks.

"Doesn't exactly say," she replies.

Dante flicks the brim of his hat. "Same way we do every time."

Nico folds her arms with one of those know-it-all looks he hates. "Just go in there and get her. With all this stuff you shouldn't have any trouble. You'll probably scare the shit out of them before you even get a chance to fight. Something tries to kill you, kill it first. Leave one alive. Jesus, a baby could do this."

"I'll go in," Nero growls, knowing this for sure won't be that easy. "The two of you cover me. Stay hidden unless you have to fight."

"Nah, not my style," Dante replies. He pulls Ebony and Ivory out and jerks his head. "Three of us are goin' in together. Let's go."

He nudges Vergil and the two cross the street. Nero watches for a moment, but before he can take a step Nico grabs his sleeve. "Don't fuck this up."

"Wouldn't dream of it," he grumbles.

Nero checks to make sure the street is clear before crossing. The air takes on an unusual quality, the only sound a muted thunk of his boots as he walks across the street. He stops in front of the door and gives the street one more backward glance before leaning in to listen. Vergil and Dante move on either side of him, watching his back.

There is no sound inside. He pulls Blue Rose and with one quick movement, he activates his demon power long enough to bang his shoulder against the door and pop it open. In a flash he is inside, arm extended as he sweeps the room.

The other two sweep in, one of them kicking the door shut. They fan out together, Nero going straight as Dante and Vergil move towards either side. The room is empty, completely empty, no furniture even. The only light streams in through the dirty windows and Nero squints as dust dances in the air. On one side is a wide staircase that leads to the upper loft, which is also empty, although the space behind the guardrail is covered in shadow. Nero steadies his breath as he scans it with narrowed eyes, the revolver ready in his hand.

His heart pounds loudly in his ears as he slowly turns. The others also move slowly, Dante gripping his pistols while Vergil holds Yamato, both ready to fight. But there is nothing, not a footstep or a voice. "Anything?" Nero calls.

"Nothing," Vergil replies.

"I'll check upstairs," says Dante.

His footsteps echo as he takes them two at a time. Nero glances to the side as Vergil walks over. "Looks like an office or something back there," he murmurs, jerking his chin towards the back.

They approach together, and Nero points the revolver at the door, nodding at Vergil as he opens it. He enters first, Vergil at his back, turning until he finally lands on a lone figure in the center, giving a gasp when he recognizes Kyrie.

"Kyrie! Kyrie!" He holsters the gun as he rushes forward. She is tied to a desk chair and blindfolded, her head turning sharply at his voice. Quickly he pulls a gag from her mouth and the blindfold from her eyes, his hands shaking as he cradles her face.

"Nero," she says, her voice raw. "You found me."

"Of course, fuck, fuck." He presses his lips to hers for a quick moment before crouching down, starting to work on the cords around her arms and legs. "Are you hurt? Are you okay?"

"Just sore." He frees one of her arms, then the other, and his lungs struggle for breath as he watches her rub them together with a wince. "You came for me."

"Of course I came, shit, I gotta get you out of here." Nero bends down again to pull at the cords, cursing under his breath.

Behind him, Vergil says, "I'll go find Dante. Stay here."

He walks out of the office as Nero goes back to working on the knots. "Where are the guys that took you?"

"I don't know, they left before daybreak."

Nero grits his teeth. "Did they say why?"

Kyrie doesn't answer, so he glances up. Fear crosses her expression as she stares over his shoulder, but before he can turn and look he feels the barrel of a gun press to the back of his head. "Don't move."

Nero locks eyes with Kyrie. "Let her go," he growls.

"Not until our business is done," the voice behind him answers. "Don't look like you got our money."

The barrel pushes hard against his skull, forcing Nero to drop his chin a bit. "I'm working on it."

"Get up."

Nero raises his hands, trying to give Kyrie a reassuring look. Her eyes are wide in alarm, and he swallows thickly, his arms and back tensing in preparation to fight. Slowly Nero stands, his jaw clenching as he makes a quick calculation. Then he spins, his arm activating and grabbing for the gun, and just as the movement registers the guy shouts and pulls the trigger.

The shot goes wide, flying through the ceiling and bringing a piece down as the drywall crumbles. Nero yanks on the barrel of the gun, the metal twisting in his grip as his other hand swings. His fist connects to his jaw and sends the man through the wall of the office, more dust and drywall flying in the air as he crashes through and skids across the floor.

"Nero!"

Immediately he swings back to Kyrie, using his demon strength to snap the rest of the cords. "Stay here," he says, grabbing her and pushing her under the desk.

Kyrie scrambles underneath and he jumps through the hole in the wall. There are shouts from upstairs, but he can't worry about that right now. Nero moves in a flash over the guy, grabbing him from the floor and hitting him again. His devil arm holds him tightly by the collar of the shirt as he pulls Blue Rose, pointing it at his forehead.

The guy moans and shakes his head. He blinks his eyes clear, and then they widen on the gun. "Hey!" he shouts.

The flesh glows blue as his fingers sharpen into claws, and with the extra strength he easily holds him steady. "Stop struggling or I'll shoot," Nero growls.

"What the fuck is this!" he screams, his eyes wide in horror as he looks at the blue skin. "Danny!"

More commotion comes from behind them, and then a familiar shout of "Jackpot!" makes Nero grin devilishly. "Looks like your friends are toast," he says. "Now tell me who the fuck you are."

"Fuck you!"

A body goes flying, slamming into the wall and crumpling to the ground. Both of them turn to see, and Nero peers through the dark room. It's not either Dante or Vergil, so he stands, dragging the guy by the collar behind him. "Dante!" he shouts.

The railing that lines the edge of the loft is now completely smashed, and Dante appears, giving him a wave. "Hey! You alive, kid?"

"Yeah," he calls back. "You good?"

"Just knocked some bozo out."

He jumps from above, sliding Ebony and Ivory into the holsters on his back. Vergil follows, but he strides over to them furiously, elbowing past Dante until he pulls up in front of Nero. "Which one of you shot me?" he demands.

Before he can answer, Yamato flashes in the air, the blade slicing between them. Nero pulls back to avoid its edge, and both he and the man he has pinned gape up at Vergil, who is scowling at them both. "It was him," they both answer in unison.

Vergil lowers the sword when Dante steps up and pats his arm. "It didn't even hurt," Dante laughs.

"Holy shit," the guy says. Nero glances down to see he has scrambled to his knees, looking between the two brothers with wide eyes. "Holy shit, you're real. You're really demon hunters."

Dante and Vergil exchange a glance as Nero gives the guy a shake. "Shut up," he orders. "Now start talking."

He gulps, his eyes darting from Nero's hand still electric blue and Vergil's sword. "You're Dante and Vergil, right? I'm Mickey. I'm your cousin."

"His what?" Nero shouts.

"C-cousin," he stammers. "You're related to Eva, right?"

Blood rushes through Nero's veins, pulsing inside his head. From the corner of his eye he sees Dante and Vergil both tense, until a moment later Yamato is tilted and pressed to the base of his throat. "How do you know Eva?"

"Don't kill me! She's related. We're related!" he cries, his voice going wild.

"You're lying," says Vergil in a growl.

"I'm not! I swear!" He winces as the sword lifts to his neck. "My father was Eva's nephew on her father's side. My great-grandfather is your great-grandfather. He threw out his son and she inherited all the money." He glares up at Nero. "All I heard all my life is how we were robbed of our inheritance because Eva turned her parents against her brother. I just wanted my cut."

Nero eases back, dropping him in a heap. Yamato keeps the guy still on the ground as he turns to look at the others. "Is that true?" he asks Vergil.

"Of course it's not true," he growls. "Eva wouldn't do that."

"But you don't know that, do you?" Nero counters.

Vergil's eyes snap to him sharply. "Don't you think I would know what my own mother would do?" Nero huffs, wondering how to even begin answering that, when Vergil continues, "Besides, she never mentioned a brother, or a nephew."

"How did you know about us?" Dante asks. "Who told you who we are?"

"And it doesn't explain why you took Kyrie," Nero says threateningly. He points his gun at the man's head. "What does she have to do with it?"

"We just wanted the money! We weren't gonna hurt her!" he cries. He sits back on his legs and holds up his hands. "It's really you, isn't it? The demon hunters. He said you guys were Eva's kids and—fuck, I didn't think you'd kill Danny!"

"I don't kill humans, numbnuts," Dante says, then nods towards Nero. "But you better start talking before he shoots you. He's been really wanting to shoot someone today."

"Already shot me," Vergil adds.

Nero raises his brows, and the kidnapper nods. "Okay. We knew Eva had two sons, and we tracked down Dante. We didn't know where the other one was." He swallows thickly and looks at Vergil. "You're Vergil, right? We couldn't find you."

"You keep saying 'we'," Vergil says.

"Yeah. Me and Danny. We're brothers too. Our pops knew there was money from the family and we figured we'd come and get our piece, you know? We tracked down Dante, but he lives in a shit hole, so it didn't make no sense."

"Hey!" Dante protests.

Vergil snorts. "He has a point."

"We saw this one there," he continues, nodding towards Nero, his eyes trained on the gun. "You're his kid, right? That's what we figured, you were always hanging around."

"Wrong again, asshat," Nero growls, pressing the barrel to his forehead.

"Okay! Sorry! We just thought—I mean you both got white hair and you both hunt demons, like damn! We thought you were his kid. So we watched you too and you and that girl live in that nice house with kids and all and figured you had the cash. And you'd make a trade." He takes several quick, deep breaths. "We were just gonna trade. I swear we weren't gonna hurt her."

Dante puts his hands on his hips. "How did you find me?"

Mickey swallows thickly. "Mammon. He found us, told us he knew where Eva's kids were. He said he knew my pop. He knew a lot of shit, so I believed him."

"Wait," Nero frowns. "Mammon's a human?"

"A human?" he answers. "What are you talking about? What else would he be?"

He can feel the demon presence a split second later, like a pinprick on his neck. Nero turns at the same time as Dante and Vergil, and it's like a spark, a charge inside his chest. There is nothing but shadow, but it is there, and he can almost hear Yamato buzzing in his head and the Devil Arms reacting, one by one, as he reaches up to pull Red Queen from his back. To his left, Dante grabs his own sword and laughs. "Looks like we get to kill something after all."

"He's mine," Nero mutters.

But Yamato stops him as Vergil lifts the sword to block his way. "Take Kyrie and get out of here."

"Screw that!" he bites out.

Nero turns to argue more, but before he can a figure finally materializes. It is just a man, tall and broad and thin, and for a second Nero blinks, thinking it is V. But that is impossible, and as it approaches, he sees the skin is without tattoos, the features more round than sharp, the black hair cropped neatly instead of laying in waves across its face. "Mammon!" Mickey shouts behind them. "Help me!"

"Isn't this interesting," Mammon says. The voice is certainly not human, a deep rumble that makes Nero's stomach turn as he tightens his grip on Red Queen. "I came for riches, and instead, I got the sons of Sparda."

"Jokes on you," Dante answers. "You ain't getting us, and we don't have any money either. So you're wrong twice."

Mammon laughs. The demon takes another step forward, the shadows swirling around its arms and legs, almost sucking the oxygen from the room. "I don't care what Sparda did, you know," it says. "I was sick of Hell long before he came here. But I want that money."

"Did you not hear him, dipshit?" Nero snaps. "There's no money."

The demon laughs. "Then you're in real trouble."

It begins to grow, its body twisting out and up, stretching as the shadows pull it like taffy. "What the hell?" Mickey moans behind them. "What the fuck is this? Mammon!"

"It's a demon," Vergil says through gritted teeth. "Nero, take the humans and go."

"Like hell—"

Mammon gives a roar, reaching its arms out and grabbing the roof. It pulls, and Nero dodges to the right as a piece of drywall falls, choking on the dust that rises. He gasps as he sees the demon thrash around, taking out the rest of the wall to the office, and he is on his feet with a cry. "Nero! Get Kyrie and go!" Vergil shouts, but he doesn't need to be told twice.

He sheaths Red Queen and bolts to the office, jumping over a pile of rubble when something grabs his ankle. Nero lands with a crack of his chin on the ground, and he kicks hard, pulling himself free. The shadows themselves are attacking, reaching for him with solid arms and hands as Nero lifts his arm and shoots Artemis.

Arrows through the air and slice through the shadow, which disintegrates on contact. Mammon takes a step towards him, but then bullets sail from the other direction as Dante begins shooting. He covers Vergil who dashes forward so quickly Nero sees only a streak, and when Mammon roars as the first swipe of Yamato slices through him, he is up on his feet and running for the office again.

"Kyrie!" he shouts once through the hole in the wall. He drops to his knees and reaches for her, and from under the desk she grabs his hands, sliding when he pulls her out. "Time to go," he pants, hauling her against him, and Kyrie wraps her arms tightly around his neck as his right arm holds her to his hip.

Together they climb back through, and he hears Kyrie whimper over the sound of the others fighting Mammon. Dante and Vergil take turns distracting the demon as the other hacks at the shadows that protect it. Nero is itching to get a few blows of his own in, but Kyrie goes limp against him, and he realizes she is going to faint if he doesn't do something fast. "Come on," he says, scooping her up in his arms, and he runs in an arc in the room as she presses her face to his neck.

Mickey watches the melee with wide eyes, but he shakes himself as Nero approaches. "Save me! Save me!" he screams, grabbing at Nero's pant leg.

Nero aims a kick at him. "Get up."

He obeys immediately, limping as he stands. Nero leads them towards the door, and he pauses and sets Kyrie down. "Go get your brother," he says.

"I can't!" His eyes are wide as he stares back at the demon. "Fuck, what is that thing?"

"It's a demon, idiot!" Nero shouts. "You stupid asshole, your greed woke the fucking Prince of Money." He glances at Kyrie, taking a deep breath. "Can you stand?"

"Yes," she says breathlessly.

"Good. Go. Nico is outside. I gotta go save this asshole."

She presses a kiss to his cheek before darting for the door, and Nero winces as the sunlight streams in once it opens. Mickey also starts for the exit, but Nero grabs him by the shirt. "No fucking way," he growls. "You're coming with me."

"Don't kill me!" he whines.

"Let's get your brother, then I'll decide." Nero practically drags him along, heading to the other side of the room where Danny still lays unconscious on the ground. He uses Artemis and sends a few warning shots when the shadows slither too closely, and when they reach the body he lets go of Mickey and grabs the brother by the arm. Hauling him over his shoulder Mickey does the same, he practically drags him out of the door, the sun too bright when he hits the sidewalk, dropping the body on the ground.

"Nero!" Kyrie is there, and Nico, who eyes the two kidnappers as Mickey collapses next to his brother. "Cops are coming. This them?"

He can hear the sirens way off in the distance, and nods. "Yeah, they're humans. But Mammon is inside. I need to get back in there."

Kyrie grabs his arm. "Wait, Nero, please—"

A blast from inside has them on the ground, Nero twisting to cover Kyrie as he kneels over her. His ears are ringing as he looks back, gasping when he sees most of the building is gone—or rather, reduced to a heap, the only things standing a few structural walls.

"No!" Nero screams. "Dad! Dante!"

He runs and vaults himself over the bit of wall still standing, landing hard on the ground on the other side. Nero scrambles forward but skids to a stop when he sees both Dante and Vergil in the center, very much alive in front of the smoking carcass of the demon. Vergil is kneeling, leaning on Yamato for support, while Dante stands with his hands on his hips, stretching his back. Nero stumbles forward with a cry, and both turn to look at him, Vergil frowning and Dante grinning when he reaches them.

"You okay there, kid?" Dante pants with a laugh.

"Yeah," he says, shaking his head to clear it. "I thought you were both goners."

"Nah," scoffs Dante. "Bastard got mad he lost and thought he'd pull down the building. No biggie."

"Where is Kyrie?" asks Vergil as he stands. "Is she safe?"

Nero nods. "Yeah. She's out there, with Nico. I got the others out, too."

Dante grins and pats him on the shoulder. "Nice work. Knew you had it in you."

He laughs and shakes his head, and then the three pick their way back over the rubble, heading towards the street. Once they are clear of the building, Kyrie runs to him, and Nero pulls her into a fierce embrace, pressing his lips to her temple. For a long moment he holds her closely, his arms trembling a bit as his fingers slide into her hair. His heart beats wildly to have her safe, and here, her warmth pressed to his as he makes a silent vow to never, ever lose her again.

A gunshot rings out, followed by a cry, and he jerks up and pulls out Blue Rose, yanking Kyrie behind him. Mickey is howling and grabbing his thigh as Vergil looks smugly over him. "You shot me!" he yells. "What the fuck, you shot me!"

"What are you doing?" Nero cries.

Vergil shrugs as he hands Ivory back to Dante. "He shot me first."

"Christ in hell." Nero rubs his neck, his shoulders drooping. "Now what?"

The sirens grow louder, so Dante says, "Give them to the police. They'll handle it."

He nods with a deep sigh. "Yeah. You two should go. I'm the only one here who is supposed to have a weapon in Fortuna."

"Right." Dante hits Vergil on the shoulder. "Come on, let's get out of here."

Nero pulls Artemis from his arm and hands it to Dante. "Thanks for this. And for uh…" Suddenly embarrassed, he turns to the side, his arm snaking around Kyrie's waist and pulling her against his hip. "For what I said earlier, I mean…"

"No problem, kid." Dante grins and salutes him as he walks towards the car. "Come on, Vergil! You're buying breakfast."

Nero glances at Vergil, who regards him with an unreadable expression. "I guess we're done here," Vergil says.

"I uh…" He squeezes Kyrie's hip as he clears his throat. "Thanks. For your help and everything."

Vergil hesitates, looking as though he wants to say something. Nero swallows thickly, wanting to say something: maybe thank you or sorry about tonight or hey I'm glad you didn't die back there, but none of it seems right, or not enough. They stare at each other for a long moment, but finally Vergil only nods before walking past them, following Dante. But he gives Nero a pat on the shoulder, and Nero's mouth quirks up a bit at the gesture.

"I'll drive them back," Nico says. She gives him a scowl before poking him in the chest. "Then you're taking me to my van."

"Fine," Nero sighs, waving her off.

Nero pulls Kyrie into another embrace, wrapping his arms tightly around her. He strokes her hair gently, kissing the top of her head, his heart feeling grateful and his body tired when a groan catches his attention.

He glances over to see Mickey sitting on the ground, holding his bleeding leg and looking at him pathetically. "You're not really gonna tell the police, are you?" he moans. "Come on, dude, we're family!"

"Family, huh?" Nero laughs. "I got plenty already, thanks."

━━━━━━━✧━━━━━━━

A/N: Only one more chapter to go! Thank you so much for reading so far. See you next Friday for the conclusion!

#dmc #devil may cry #nerokiri #dante sparda #vergil sparda #nero sparda #dmc nero #dmc dante #dmc vergil #dmc kyrie #dmc nico #fan fiction #myfic #time to go

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dragon-kazansky · 5 years ago

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A Fantastic Christmas - Gellert Grindelwald

Chapter 7 - Music

Within it's many walls, the big house you were living in stored musical instruments. Teaching Credence how to play the piano had become a pass time for you both after he was done practising his magic.

Today, as the young wizard played those ivory and ebony keys, you had taken to pluck at another instrument.

Gellert had decided to join your music session today and brought you a small present. Having not had any use out of it for quite some time, he thought that maybe you would enjoy getting use out of it instead of letting it waste away. A violin.

Where Credence was already playing a piece of music, you were just dabbling with your instrument. Grindelwald offering you guidance on tuning it and playing it. He stood rather close to your as he helped you position yourself and pull the bow over the strings.

He helped you practise for an hour before you started to actually play music.

"How does it sound?" You asked after playing your first made up piece.

"It no longer sounds like a cat screaming for help, if that's what you mean." He chuckled.

"Ha ha ha, seriously, did it sound OK?" You wanted a serious answer.

Gellert grinned, "it sounded wonderful, dear."

You smiled softly at him and started from the beginning. Credence had found a rhythm to join in with your made up piece of music. Grindelwald sat and listened as music flowed through out the room. He found himself swaying at one point.

The dark wizard cared very little for festivities and celebrations, but right now he was looking forward to up coming holiday. In the past there was only one person he may have cared enough for to spend such a time with, but now, there was someone else. Someone who was becoming rather dear to him quite quickly.

He watched you play. Confidence now flowing from you as you looked to Credence who played along with you.

He was going to use this lead up to Christmas to get closer to you, spend some time with you, get to know you better.

When the music ended he you took a small bow as you Credence laughed from where sat. Gellert clapped as he smiled at you.

You placed the violin down and stretched your arms.

"I think that's enough music for one day. Good job, Credence!" You gave his shoulder a little pat and made your way to where Grindelwald was sitting. As usual his gaze found yours. "Did you enjoy the show?"

"I did. A talented little thing, aren't you?" He teased.

You turned your gaze away from him. "If you say so. Guess, I just had a good teacher."

He chuckled. The sound made your heart flutter.

"I will demand another concert soon."

"Just say when." You smiled.

Grindelwald rose up from his seat and left the room.

"You realise he's the most wanted wizard in the world, don't you?" Credence spoke up, he looked at you.

"Yes, of course. Has been for years. You realise that too, don't you? After all, you joined his side too." You replied, not realising what he was getting at.

"That's not what I meant. I'm here because he'll help me."

"Credence..."

"Why did you side with him? Because he's going to help you too... or something else?"

You didn't say anything. You didn't have too. Your silence was answer enough for Credence. He stood from the piano and headed out of them room.

"I don't know any more." You whispered to no one.

Tags:

@weapinggwillowss @awyr @fandombeehive @charmed-asylum @sigynbandraoi-blog @dragonstorytelling @newheart97 @kpopgirlbtssvt @procrastinatingmurder

#a fantastic christmas #fantastic beasts #gellert grindelwald x reader #gellert grindelwald #grindelwald x reader #chapter 7

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doeeyeddarlingxo · 5 years ago

Text

Myriad Misadventures - Chapter 7

The Myriad Misadventures of a Midgardian Queen-In-Training - Chapter 7

AO3 | Previous | Next

Word Count: 1421

Pairing: Loki/Reader

Rating: T

Myriad Misadventures - Chapter 7

The palace is...well, it’s huge, not to mention beautiful, with walls made of pure white stone and dozens of windows framed in gold. It’s preceded by a large lawn and driveway, and circled by woods that seem to extend well past the limits of your eyesight. Everything is so bright and vivid, the needle-leaved trees scraping the cloudless, cerulean sky, blossoms of every color growing along the driveway and edging the castle itself.

It is an incredibly intimidating sight.

“Come on!” You feel a hand around your wrist, and before you know what’s going on, Sapphire is pulling you into a run. “You don’t want to let them get ahead, do you?”

You don’t really care either way, but you humor her, running until you’re a few feet to the left of Juliette and Li, both of whom throw lofty glances in your direction. Juliette’s hair, a deep, sunrise red, had caught your attention the moment you saw her on the train, but you hadn’t really gotten a good chance to look at Li before - she’s as beautiful as the others, if not more so. Her hair is so black, it has an almost purplish tint to it, contrasting magnificently against the bright, clear aqua of her eyes. She could legitimately pass for a porcelain doll, or a fairy. Even her gait matches - she seems to float, walking with delicate, pixie-like steps. It’s enchanting to watch, but when her eyes flicker back in your direction, you immediately turn your gaze on the white gravel of the ground.

As you place your foot on the first step, you are startled by a loud creak. You and the others watch in awe as the tall, twin doors swing open at a snail's pace, allowing you to take in the foyer little by little. It's still overwhelming - the ceiling is cathedral height, with another tapestry hung up on the emerald walls every few yards. The floors are partially covered by lush green carpeting, like a runway, with thin, shiny stripes of ivory on either side. In between the tapestries are wall lamps, with candelabras beneath - and is that a chandelier you see? Yes, yes it is. Squinting, you make out another one a little further down the hall.

Entering the palace makes you feel as though you have left behind the twentieth century entirely. This new world is impressively, impossibly grandiose, straight from the pages of a fairy tale. You have fallen out of the reality you thought you knew, and into a fantasy swathed in emerald and cream.

"Well, shit," Irina breathes from behind you. You're inclined to agree, and from the expressions on the other girls' faces, so are they.

From the end of the hall, you see...something. A grey line, growing closer and closer; as it approaches, you see that it’s mainly comprised of men in green-grey uniforms - guards? I think? A few yards before reaching you, it stops. The center figure steps out to approach. Heavier, but elegant, clad in a moss-green ball gown, with her waist drawn in (presumably) by a corset and emphasized by the swell of her skirt. As she sweeps forward, the velvet of her dress rustles.

“Good afternoon, girls.” She beams at each of you in turn. “My name is Lady Amara, and I will be your guide for the duration of your stay.” As she speaks, she makes some hand signal at the guards; at once, they all turn sharply, and head back to the end of the hall. One lingers, standing a few feet behind her. You notice, with no small amount of discomfort, that he’s staring at you. When you make eye contact, he licks his lips, and winks at you. You turn your gaze to the floor, suddenly uncomfortable. Lady Amara turns to him, and motions for him to step forward, which he does. “This is Captain Absidor Walden; he is the head guard. He will be going over some of the safety measures which are in place to ensure your security.”

“Good morning, ladies.” His words come out thin and throaty, more rasp than voice. His skin is tanned, his hair slightly longer than a buzz-cut, and although he’s far from ugly, you’re immediately put off by his bearing: he carries himself not like a high-ranking officer, or even a nobleman, but with the cruel arrogance of a slave owner. He looks each of you up and down as he speaks, and you notice again that he spends a little extra time appraising you, though this time you look away before he has a chance to make eye contact. “You all have been allowed one personal item; we will be collecting and checking those before you are escorted to your rooms. You have each been assigned a maid. In case of an emergency, each maid has been provided with a key to their contestant’s room. Upon arriving in your rooms, you will change into one of the outfits provided for you. Your clothes from home are to be discarded; your maid will help you with that. You will be allowed access to both email and ‘snail mail’ one day each week, but any packages containing anything other than a letter will be discarded immediately, a fact which we will inform your primary contacts of.”

Lady Amara nods. “Thank you.” The captain and his guards march back down the hallway, until they’re no more than specks in the distance. “Guards are stationed at each of the castle’s four exits, at the main gates, and at various points throughout the surrounding grounds, including the gardens, the stables, and the woods, which you’ll see later.” She pauses to give you all a tight-lipped smile, head tilted to the side. “Any questions?”

"So, what's Asgard like?"

"And of what concern is that to you?"

Her tone of voice is so sharp that Rosa actually takes a step backwards. "In the contract. It said the winner - "

" - and their family would be moved to Asgard. Yes. Relations between His Majesty and his family are somewhat...strained. Negotiations are currently taking place to alleviate the tension, hence his absence." She pauses to clear her throat. When she begins speaking again, her tone is considerably brighter. "Never fear, though! He is scheduled to return to the palace in seven days, which gives me just enough time to educate you on the behavior expected of you during your stay. For the next week, you will be trained in table etiquette, inter-realm politics, proper dress, etcetera. The king's arrival will likely be commenced with some sort of event, the details of which will be announced a few days prior to his return. Your lessons, however begin now."

"Now?" As in, now now?

She sighs, closing her eyes as though she were suffering from a headache. And that makes three people who I’ve managed to tick off in one day. Good job, (Y/N). Really solid work. “Yes, Lady…?”

“(Y/N).”

“Thank you.” She claps her hands together. “To begin with: breakfast will be served at eight o’clock each morning, dinner at five p.m. sharp. Lunch is to be taken at your leisure, though you're welcome to join me in the dining room at twelve thirty. You may want to keep your schedules relatively free once his majesty arrives, as there is no set rotation for how he will be dividing his time up amongst you.” Does that mean he picks the dates? Do we have the option to say no? “You will be shown to your rooms before dinner. This is the Ladies' Parlor; feel free to come here to read, compose letters to your families. Most importantly, we will congregate here each week to watch the weekly segment on television.

"You may notice a distinct lack of modern technology here; the television is a necessary exception, and will only be used to watch the weekly segment. You will also be allowed to contact your families once a week via electronic mail, as Captain Walden mentioned, but you will not be given any other access to the internet.” She looks down the corridor to your right. “Ah, just in time. You each have half an hour to get ready before dinner.

Eight girls, all dressed in plain white aprons atop ebony dresses, line up facing you, four on each side of Lady Amara. The one furthest left is the first one to speak. “Lady (Y/N)?”

“Yes?”

She smiles at you. “This way, please.”

#loki #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki x reader #loki/reader #reader insert #reader-insert #ao3 #fanfic #fanfiction #loki fic #doeeyeddarling #myriad misadventures #fish fork

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cursedcaos · 6 years ago

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Colt green

I am a poor wayfaring stranger

A-traveling through this world below

But there's no sickness, toil, or danger

In that bright land to which I go

I'm going there to see my father

I'm going there no more to roam

I'm just a-going over Jordan

I'm just a-going over home

B A S I C S:

Full Name: Colt ‘McCrea’ Green

Quote: “Ride with you brother? Always.”

Gender: Male

Age: 33

Sexuality: Bisexual

Pronouns: He | Him

Appearance: Colt stands at 5'8 he has an overweight build with stronger arms, he hides his weight under clothing and he has multiple scars all over his body, the most being in his arms and legs where roped imbedded and left scars, a scar is over his throat from a failed attempt at killing him and he hides it with a green patterned bandanna with plant patterns stitched into the ends, he has unkempt black hair that curls at the end and Hazel eyes with green, gold and brown with slight hints of blue near the middle, he has bags under his eyes from going to bed late and waking up early.

O T H E R:

Family: Father: Campbell Green(deceased), Mother: Holly McCrea(deceased)

Animals: Horse - A Overo paint named Cherry, Cat - A yellow and white Maine coon named Cracker

Birthplace: Near the upper montana river, West Elizabeth great plains

Job(s): Outlaw, horse caretaker

Phobias: fear of deep water, fear of losing his loved ones, Fear of bees,wasps and hornets, fear of not doing something right or not being good enough

Guilty Pleasures: Candy

Hobbies: wood working, Singing alone or very rarely near the other members, Photography, writing, Taking care of the horses

M O R A L S:

Morality Alignment: True Neutral

Sins: Anger

Virtues: Kindness, Justice, hope, Faith

T H I S - O R - T H A T:

introvert / extrovert

organized / disorganized

close-minded / open-minded

calm / anxious / restless

disagreeable / agreeable / in between

cautious / reckless / in between

patient / impatient

outspoken / reserved

leader / follower / flexible

empathetic / unempathetic

optimistic / pessimistic / realistic

hard-working / lazy

traditional / modern / in between

G A N G I N F O:

Gang: Van Der Linde

Rank: 4th most trusted

Bounty: Wanted Dead or Alive

Price on Head: $4000

When did he join?: 1878

Favorite Gang activity: Robbing Stage's

Favorite member: Sean MacGuire

Second favorite: Javier Escuella

Third favorite: John Marston

Least Favorite/hate: Micah bell

Job in Gang: Taking care of the horses

How he joined: He was found when he was 12 in the year 1878, dutch hearing a scream of pain investigated and found the new gang, the O'Driscoll boys having tied up colts arms and legs to the point of embedding into the skin, they held him hostage and tortured him for not joining them, dutch arrived just in time as they slit colts throat, it failed and did not cut deep enough to kill him, after Dutch killed them he brought colt back with him and let him heal, asking colt to join When he was healed enough and colt accepted, becoming the first one to join out of everyone and becoming the second most loyal out of everyone in the gang.

Where he sleeps: he has a tent out farther than the others to always listen for people trying to sneaking into camp or sneak away.

Weapons:

Sawed-Off Shotgun

Rolling Block Rifle modified with a long scope and golden metal engraving with ivory metal and ebony wood

Relationships(Main ones):

Arthur Morgan: Considers him a older brother, the two have been together thick and thin since the beginning of the gang and he loves him dearly and he would die for him and even kill for him, he and Arthur often share pictures colt takes or stuff Arthur has written in his journal on his adventures, the two even act like brothers as seen through conversations or interactions when you talk to him or in missions

John Marston: Considers him a younger brother, he helped raise him since he was young and helped him try shooting better from the lessons Dutch taught him when he first joined, he helped him try to swim but ultimately failed at trying and often calls him raccoon or brother, even deartháir meaning brother in Irish and would die for him and his family, you can often see him talking to john after he argues with Abigail and helps him try being a better dad even if the two brothers don't know what the hell they are doing.

Hosea Matthews: Considers him a father, he taught colt how to read and be kind, he is the most like hosea in personality and colt appreciates that hosea is in his life, admiring him for teaching him things Dutch could not and will often share stories with hosea when he returns to camp after a adventure and shows him the pictures he's taken or when the two go hunting or fishing he shows what fish he's caught or even track animal's for hosea on hunting trips, the two almost died from wolves once and laugh it off now, he loves hosea like a father.

Dutch Van Der Linde: considers him a father figure in his life for saving his life, he taught colt how to trick people with his kindness and be a leader when needed, but he hates being a leader figure and just prefers being a follower and taught him how to rob people and pick pocket unsuspecting people, Dutch trust's him because he can keep secrets that need kept secret and can be a valuable asset in long range shooting, learning how to shoot far even with a pistol or a revolver.

Javier Escuella: Considers Javier a friend and a brother, he taught colt how to speak and understand spanish and to speak Spanish and in return, taught Javier how to speak English, colt often just listens to Javier playing his own songs on his guitar or sometimes even singing with him if he knows the song Javier is singing, and the two act like close friends and even brothers, they also talk in Spanish sometimes, mostly about how colt wants to visit Mexico and Javier promises to bring colt there one day and always be there for him, even if the gang breaks up one day.

Charles Smith: Considers him a friend, he likes the man for his quiet and reserved personality and that he seems to care for bison and other wildlife, and colt often takes Charles to his best locations for hunting in the area's colt loves throughout the different chapters, he tries helping Charles talk to people more people and help him make friends, and in return Charles helped him learn to track animals and hunt better, but mostly uses the skills to track animals he takes pictures of.

Sean Macguire: Considers sean a close friend and a brother, he is very close to him and loves his stories he tells around the campfire, Sean always cheers him up even at his lowest points, wherever the two go trouble seems to the two close behind, they are the best choice for stagecoach robberies or home robberies, but it's also a bad choice because they cause more trouble than good most of the times they are together, but they get the job done fast and efficient, colt tries teaching Sean to read once in awhile but Sean declines help from colt each time he tries helping him learn.

Kieran Duffy: a love hate relationship, he trust's this former O'Driscoll but still doesn't trust him fully but senses the man has a meek personality and a good heart, he helps him take care of the gangs horses and learn new ways for him to take care of the horses or protect him from the other gang members, once fought bill and pinned him down by his arm with his foot against Bill's back for trying to geld poor Kieran once.

P E R S O N A L:

Personality: a kind and caring individual, he loves being around people he considers family, he always puts his gang first before anything else and listening to different members stories, listening to javier's music and Sean's stories even if some of them may be stupid, he can act chaotic when he is around the gang but knows when to not act like that and stays calm, often stays up even when everyone is asleep,

but when he gets angry his attitude quickly goes to cold and hateful, a side inherited from his father who was a outlaw leader before his death, his father had a stern and cruel personality when he was still alive and this is shown the most around Micah or Bill when the two start causing trouble and often get in fights that end up with one of them on the ground or wounded,

he was raised for 12 years around his father's gang before there deaths and was taught right from wrong from one of the gang members and gained a adventurous personality from that time around them, he seems to love books and writing in a journal he buys later in the chapters and loves nature and wildlife, specifically elks and moose,

R E L A T I O N S H I P S:

He also loves being around the girls and tries lowering miss grimshaw’s attitude towards them but ultimately fails since he is also somewhat afraid of her, he also loves cats and even has his own cat dutch and hosea let him have when he found her 4 years ago.

OTP: N/A

Acceptable Ships: N/A

OT3: N/A

BroTP: Arthur/Colt, John/Colt, Javier/Colt, Sean/Colt

NOTP: Dutch/Colt, Hosea/Colt, Micah/Colt, Bill/Colt, Uncle/Colt

F A C T S:

1. He is blinded by loyalty and almost doesn't see dutch's wrong choices later in the chapter's.

2. He was once trying to learn knife tricks from Javier once and the knife stabbed into his hand, leaving a scar on his right hand.

3. he's going blind from age.

4. He sometimes hums to himself if he thinks he is alone

5. He has fast Metabolism, so he looks sickly and can get sick easily

6. Hated John when he first join but overtime they grew closer, and sometimes call each other brother.

7. Fought Bird Anderson and Lost, gets mocked by the gang sometimes for losing to a kid.

8. Is the son of a now deceased infamous gang leader Named Campbell Green.

9. Can speak Gaelic, Spanish and English.

@rdr-oc-appreciation

13 notes · View notes

jimlingss · 7 years ago

Text

His Name [7]

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 Words: 9.5k Genre: Angst, Multiple Personality!Au Summary: Jeon Jungkook is a puzzle with too many missing pieces from his past and too many sides. Somehow, it’s become your job to solve him. → Inspired by the Korean Drama - Kill Me Heal Me Warnings: Topics of mental health. Mentions of death, suicide and medical disorders. Mentions of physical and emotional abuse. Disclaimer: Although this piece of work required lots of in-depth research and was attempted to be as accurate as possible, at the end of the day, I am not a psychologist and this is fanfiction. Specific things may be altered or exaggerated for story-telling purposes. Please take all medical terminologies and procedures with a grain of salt.

Cr.

“No!”

He’s laid in bed, sweat built at his forehead. (A boy with ebony hair, cold eyes grown warm.) He thrashes under the covers. (A comforting voice - “It’s going to be okay. I promise.”) He murmurs desperate pleas under his breath, a twisted knot between his brows. (BANG!)

Jungkook inhales sharply, his entire body jostling upwards. You react, switching on the lamp and sitting up. “Jungkook?” He’s gasping for breath, grabbing fistfuls of the covers, searching the premise with scared eyes. “Jungkook. I’m here.”

He finally looks at you and it takes a moment for him to ease. “I-I….I’m sorr-”

“Don’t apologize.” You put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You don’t need to.”

He nods, a deep exhale later, he calms down. “Y/N. There’s something...I’ve forgotten.” Your breath hitches and you shut your eyes to prepare for his next words. “And now-”

“-I think I can remember.”

Jungkook had passed out earlier from exhaustion and you didn’t feel safe to leave him alone - at least that was part of the reason you were in his bedroom. The other part was because you too wanted some sort of company. The whispering word of ‘boundaries’ replayed in your head over and over again, like a mantra, making you restless. It was wrong on so many levels - you were getting too closely intimate with him. But you were unable to dwell on your wrongdoings, not when Jungkook was having another nightmare, screaming in his sleep.

And now he’s wide awake, leaning against the headboard while you sit across from him on the mattress. The warm glow of the lamp is the only luminescence in the room, casting your shadows onto the floorboards. The night is still young, dark with lurking monsters; both the past and the current conflicts haunting, peering over your shoulder with a deprecating smile.

“Tell me what you remember.”

“The boy.” He simply utters, “The boy I was telling you about. I can...I can see him. His eyes.”

You’re not sure that this is a good idea. “Who is he?” Namjoon had told you once - Jungkook forgot for a reason. His mind forcibly removed the memory. What good would come if he remembered again?

“I don’t know.” Jungkook’s head falls within his hands, temples throbbing underneath his fingertips. He composes himself down with a deep breath before closing his eyes. “An alleyway. A van. Someone I can’t see ties me up. I’m blindfolded. There’s a….bang.”

It hurts. It feels like you’re watching him break right in front of you. You can stop this. If you reach out, you can stop him from remembering. You could.

But you won’t.

You’ve already promised to help him until the end. And memories are what he wants.

The lost are forcibly revived, pried from the murky depths. A million things scream at him to stop; they were meant to die, they were meant to be forgotten. He ignores the searing pain in his head, sinking his nails into the images to drag them to the surface once more.

“Jungkook!” “What are you doing?!” “STOP!” “You’re going to hurt yourself!” “Please!” “We’re only trying to help you.”

Six voices call out to him, shouting in agony over each other in haste, in absolute desperation as they trip over their own words. He lifts his hands, bringing it up to his ears to block the noise.

Stop.

He commands them silent. They fade away - into nothing more than white noise in the back of his mind. Jungkook hones in, reaching far and he can feel it. His body is embraced by the warmth, by the cold, by what was buried but never erased, simply lost. It’s a battle that he must fight alone. But as he feels your hand wrap around his own, he gains enough strength to tug the memories f r e e.

And they float out of his hands, reaching to the surface of the water. The memories erupt, ripples that flare. A tsunami wave crashes down. His eyes shoot open. His brain throbs. He screams out in torment. His hand tightens on yours.

Darkness. A light that shines in his eyes. It burns to the back of his lids. He can’t scream. The boy. The boy…

BANG!

It bursts underneath his eyelids. Forms and figures, photographs and scenes flash by in muted shades. It’s blurred like footage on a projector, split seconds that tell entire stories. They all melt together, shifting before he can understand what’s happening. But gradually, the distorted film begins to focus. It slows down at a timed pace, becoming less and less hazy.

“Jungkook!”

He turns around, standing barefoot on the lush grass. He’s in the body of his five-year-old self. The cool breeze tickles his skin, the balloons tied to the fence rustle against each other. The blue one that was thrown into the sky floats to the ground. His mother is standing with his birthday cake, setting it onto the table. The sunlight pierces against the glass windows of his childhood home, shining into his eyes.

He can’t see but an older boy calls again, running to him. He wears a gummy smile, cheeks inflated- “Jungkook! What are you doing?”

It all shifts, the scene bleeding like watercolour paint meeting a wet canvas. Jungkook finds himself at a dinner table, the sky now pitch black, the dim lights in the room. His father is laughing with his mother, the two of them appearing in full bliss and pink blushes.

The boy sitting next to an empty chair turns around to face him. “Jungkook! What are you doing? Come sit down! The food’s getting cold.”

The room is too dark, his face casted over by shadows. Jungkook cannot see his eyes. “Here. Have some.”

The strange boy with ebony locks smiles and the scene bleeds once more.

smaller but rougher hands obsidian hair that matched the keys a frown of concentration “What do you think?” Jet locks sweeping his forehead Cold eyes grown warm Lips upturned into a gentle smile “I’ve improved, haven’t I?”

He is seated on the floor, legs crossed together and hands in his lap as he stares up at the backside of the boy. The sunrays puncture through the windows, blinding his eyes. Jungkook raises his hands away from the light. At the same time, the boy turns around to steal one glance, yet Jungkook still cannot see him.

The boy’s hands glide over the keys, fingers in rhythm to transform the piece into a somber and sorrowful expression. He presses down on the pedal, melting all the notes together in a slight echo. The sadness seeps into his skin, flooding the room; vibrations floating like clouds and shaking the walls. The clock ticks to the melody. The piano has a pulse of its own.

Jungkook begins to cry; droplets marking his face before dripping off his chin and onto the floor. He raises his sleeve to wipe his cheeks and he musters the strength to stand. His helpless, small body climbs onto the wooden bench that the strange boy is sitting on. The boy turns to him with a softened smile and slides over to make more room. But his face is still blurred.

Their shoulders rub together and the younger watches as the older’s hands play over the ivory.

All in the while, Jungkook is screaming at himself. The boy is so entirely important - his heart constricts in his chest - tears are relentlessly continuing to fall. He has to remember. With a dying desperation, Jungkook has to remember. He has to. Please.

Please.

That’s when time slows. Jungkook’s breath hitches and his lids open again - the boy looks at him. The corners of his mouth upturned. His cheeks are rounded. The slope of his nose. The tint of his lips. Each feature, each eyelash, each gleam in his innocent orbs. Eyes.

His eyes.

The colour of the boy’s irises are dark honey. They match his own.

Jungkook’s lips move. They move but his vocal chords betray him. His throat tightens, his tongue twists and his lips quiver. Please. He cannot stop the tears that downpours like a day of April rain. Yet, he begs the Heavens to allow him a chance to utter the name that is suddenly blaring in his head. It slaps him across the face, shaking him like a rag doll - asking “Why?! Why did you forget?!”

Y-....OON…..G-

“Yoongi.”

The puzzle pieces snap together.

[20 years ago]

The backpack is dumped out, papers and notebooks falling onto the floor. The pencils and pens roll under the bed but he doesn’t pay any attention, turning to the wardrobe to stuff in a jacket.

“Yoongi?” He calls out in a weak voice. “What are you doing?”

His older brother turns to him, gazing at the way the younger’s mouth is pouted and he’s frowning in worry, clutching onto the doorframe and peeking in slightly. “Come here.”

Yoongi rushes to the closet, opening it up to reveal canned goods pushed in one corner. In haste, he begins to pack them into the bag. “What are you doing?” Jungkook repeats, now more in curiosity than concern.

The older stops, looking outside the door before reaching over and closing it shut. He kneels down in front of his younger brother, the contrast of their height showing the age difference of four years. Yoongi is a mere age of ten and Jungkook at six.

“We’re running away.”

“Running away?” He cocks his head to one side with a frown. “Why?”

“We-..........are you happy here, Jungkook?”

He immediately answers without skipping a beat. “No.”

The two look away in silence, the younger full of hurt and disappointment while the older is full of rage and anger. “Dad doesn’t love us anymore...right?” Yoongi doesn’t answer. “He’s getting married…...what happened to mom?”

“I’ve told you before.” Yoongi lets go of Jungkook’s hands, moving to continue filling his backpack. “She’s watching us in the sky. She’s always here. And I know she would want us to be happy.” His hands halt and he looks at his brother, eyes once cold from the cruelty of life but now grown warm while he gazes at Jungkook.

“Will you come with me?”

Jungkook smiles widely, his eyes crinkling together and two slight dimples mark each side of his rounded cheeks. “Yeah. Of course I will. Wherever you go, I’ll go.”

The two boys, sharing the same bed since their mother’s passing, are hidden under the covers. They feign being asleep for the nosy maids who poke their heads through the door, checking for one final time. Their father who used to kiss them and bid them ‘goodnight’ have not passed by their rooms for weeks, have not spoken to them in days, haven’t even seen them.

Once the lights are flickered off and the padding footsteps fade away, the sound of a door closing echoed through the halls - they throw off the covers. “Shh.” Yoongi puts a finger to his mouth, hushing Jungkook who’s faintly giggling at their mischief. “Be quiet, brat.”

“Hey.” He whispers harshly, pouting while crossing his arms. “Don’t call me that.”

Yoongi grins, gums shown with his white teeth. “Sorry.” He lowers himself onto his knees, grasping at the two backpacks and sliding them from under the bed.

The two boys prepare for their adventure. The older helps the younger with his socks and shoes, sliding the holes of his jacket through his arms properly. Within the next ten minutes, they’re dressed in outerwear with backpacks secure around their shoulders.

“Where are we going?” Jungkook asks as he watches his brother climb out the window.

He grunts before plopping down onto the grass, reaching up to close the window again. He glances in one more time, smirking at the ingenious idea to put teddy bears underneath the covers so the two lumps mimic their bodies. “Well...I have some money with me. What do you think about catching a train to grandpa and grandma?”

Jungkook’s eyes light up. “Really?!”

“Shh. Stay quiet.” He ducks down before smiling. “Yes. We’ll stay there for awhile but what do you think about traveling the world? I know mom has saved us some money in the bank. We can get grandpa to go to the bank for us. Dad doesn’t care about us anymore, I’m sure he won’t check but we are his only two sons and he has that stupid company-” Jungkook’s ears aren’t listening anymore, his grin grown so wide that Yoongi quickly slaps his hand over the younger’s mouth to make sure he doesn’t scream in excitement. “Shh!”

“Are we really going to travel the world?” He whispers.

The two of them climb the fence together, already beginning to walk down the street and into the bushes. The big mansion behind them, more of a prison than a home, is left without another glance.

“Yes.” Yoongi nods, holding his brother’s hand. “I promise.”

They’re hand-in-hand, treading down the dark alley. The brick walls cower on either side of them, the endless path seemingly growing narrower. He’s too scared to look up but finds comfort in the hand that curls around his, a shield that he knows will always protect him.

“Do you know where we’re going? Are we lost?”

“We aren’t lost.” He sighs out. “I know. After this, we just have to turn the corner to the main street and the train station will be there. Trust me.”

“Well okay.” Jungkook looks up with a grin.

Jeon Corporations. It’s a rising company that came from nowhere, beating its competitors and threatening the industry. It was a result of sweat, tears...and blood - illicit methods and betrayals, all because of boundless greed. More. More. More. It’s never enough to satisfy the hunger, a diet of green bills and stock markets going up and up. But in the world of his sons, they have yet to understand - they have yet to become corrupted.

Their eyes still gleam, carrying an innocence that believes: anything is possible if they try hard enough - if they reach out into the world, the universe will respond - friendships, family and love prevails above all.

The two failed to realize how many enemies their father had in the dirty game of business.

The reality came crashing down before they had a chance to scream.

“Yoongi...what is that?”

He points to the van that drives at them, the bright headlights burning into the back of their lids. Jungkook winces away and Yoongi raises his hand. The latter boy grunts, shuffling the former behind him. “Stay there.”

The wheels screech against the gravel, nearly hitting the both of them. In the next second, the door slides open and four men in black run out. “Who are you?! What do you want?!”

Yoongi protects his younger brother, shielding him away from the strangers. Jungkook shakes, grabbing fistfuls of Yoongi’s jacket.

The men ignore him. “It’s these two?”

“It is.” Another grins, monstrously like the cheshire cat.

Their shadows loom over them, beasts of the night. “Come with us. We’ll take you where you need to go.” One offers his hand to the older boy, crouching down and smiling to the younger who peeks his head out.

“No. Go away.” He spits out sharply. “Go or I’ll scream.”

“Oh?” The stranger raises his brow. “Scream?”

Yoongi doesn’t waste a chance, inhaling a sharp breath to allow his vocal chords to rip out his throat but before he has the chance, the man’s smile falls and he lurches over, shoving his disgusting hand over the boy’s mouth. “Shut up! You dumb brat! Ow! He bit me!”

The other men circle the two children, ripping them apart from each other as each struggle. “Yoongi!” Jungkook shouts out in agony, crying as the man nearly pulls his limb from its socket. Tears flood from his eyes and he kicks as hard as he can, thrashing his arms around to get to his brother. “Yoongi!”

The man groans, face rising with red fury. “Will you give it up, fucker?!”

“Jungkook!” Yoongi outstretches his hand, trying to grab onto him. The tips of his fingers graze against the fabric of his jacket but slips through as he’s pulled away. “Jungkook!” He shouts out in utter frustration at his lack of strength, asking himself why he can’t protect the only thing that he has left.

“Yoongi!”

“Jungkook!”

They’re blindfolded, ankles and wrists tied together with rope that burns into their skin. No matter how much the older struggles, it’s pointless. They’re thrown into the back of the van, listening to the motor of the car fire again as they’re driven away into the oblivion.

Each bump of the road makes Jungkook’s body jump. Tears continue to mark his face and he unwillingly shakes. He whimpers, quietly, repeating his brother’s name and something finally shuffles beside him. Warm, comforting hands gently grab his. “It’s going to be okay. I promise.”

Jungkook nods and he feels his brother’s hands touch the rope, looking for a way to undo it. But then there’s a loud- “HEY! What are you doing?!” - someone’s boot stomping against the trembling floors. The scent of booze and cigarettes waft horrifically into his nose, the breathing of the man right next to him. He grunts, as if picking something heavy up and then...CRASH!

The noise splits through the air, startling him. A soft cry blares nearby and Jungkook immediately recognizes it.

“Yoo-...ngi?” His hands fly up beside him but his small fist grabs onto air. It’s empty. “Yoongi!”

There’s silence that answers. The man plops back down into his seat, leaving the older on the floor. “The two of you better shut the fuck up. No funny business.”

It could have been five minutes or five hours. When the van finally halts, he’s forcefully dragged up despite his knees automatically buckling. Jungkook is thrown into a corner outside the door of the warehouse, blindfold torn off his eyes. He blinks three times, clouded vision from the tears and he realizes the sky is still the shade of soot. “Yoongi?”

Jungkook’s throat croaks as his brother is thrown alongside him, blindfold also being taken off.

“Jungkook.” He gasps out. “Are you okay?” The boy searches the other’s face but his own cheek is bruised blue.

“What...what did they- they d….o to you?” He cries out, choking over his tears.

The corners of his lips upturn and he shakes his head. “Nothing. It’s fine. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“Shut up!”

One of the strangers turn, holding a phone in his hand with a smirk. “We’re going to call your father and see how much you assholes are worth.” He crouches down to their level, a twinkle of the devil in his eye.

Yoongi laughs, his throat tight and releasing something stiff. He looks the man straight in the eyes with a dead expression; one that a ten-year old boy should not be capable of unless he’s seen the most brutal parts of life. “We’re not worth anything. You’ve made a mistake. Our father doesn’t give a rat’s ass about us. We’re nothing more than trash to him.”

The man scoffs but doesn’t respond, a flash of worry coming across his features before it washes away. He dials the number and holds it to his ear - when it picks up several rings later, he moves it to Yoongi’s. But the boy doesn’t respond. “Say something.” The man mutters behind gritted teeth.

The older boy cocks his head to the side, refusing to open his mouth.

“Hello?” The other side of the line holds his father’s exhausted voice. Yoongi’s never been more bitter about hearing it. “Hello?”

One of the strangers who was pacing, frustrated by the child’s lack of cooperation, grunts before stomping up to him. He grabs him by the collar of the shirt, coiling up his fist and landing a bunch straight to his jaw.

Jungkook cries out and Yoongi is thrown to the ground. The phone is pushed back onto his ear but still he doesn’t utter a single word - a smirk on his lips instead, amused by the baffled men.

“Is there someone there?”

Another man, smarter and more understanding, approaches the boys slowly. Jungkook’s big brown orbs widen as it connects with his. The man smiles in a fake kindness before his shoe lifts, moving onto Jungkook’s hand. He presses it down to the ground, stepping onto the child’s skin, nearly cracking his bones. A strangled shout leaves the boy’s mouth as the pebbles compress into skin, gravel making its mark. The man sinks his weight further down and Yoongi looks on in alarm.

Yoongi struggles as Jungkook looks at him desperately, tears in his eyes. He finally complies, spitting out- “STOP IT! YOU’RE HURTING HIM!”

His father reacts. “Yoongi? Jungkook?! Where are you?! What are you doing?!”

The men smile, moving away as they commence the negotiations; infinite threats and a demand for a large sum of money. More. More. More. Greed will never end.

“Don’t be a baby.” Yoongi slumps against the ground and he manages to smile at his brother. “Stop crying.”

Jungkook whimpers, sniffling in each breath as he bites down on his bottom lip to force himself not to shake. “You’re- You’re bleeding!”

“It’s just a little blood.” He shuts his eyes, feeling his jaw pulse and the warm trickle that runs from his nose to his chin. It splashes down in crimson, bleeding centimeters across the dirt. “Listen to me.” Yoongi forces his antagonizing body to sit up and he scoots closer, pressing his forehead against his brother as he murmurs quietly under his breath. “Stop crying, will you? Jungkook.” Each word is spoken softly with care, with tenderness. “Whatever happens I’ll make sure you’re okay. I promise. We’ll leave and go to grandma and grandpa. We’ll travel the world together. There’s still a lot left to do. Are you listening?” Jungkook barely manages to nod, biting his lower lip as he continues to quiver and cry. “You need to take care of yourself, okay? Don’t just eat candy and chocolate, you’ll get cavities. I know you hate vegetables but you need to eat them. Drink water too. Jungkook, you need to eat lots and live your life well.” Yoongi twists around quickly, glancing at the men who are finishing up. He meets his brother’s orbs when he turns back. He speaks hastily, tripping over his tongue as he whispers. As if time will run out. “I love you. Jungkook, you’re a big baby and a brat sometimes...but I love you. I’ve never stopped. You’ll always be my younger brother. Forever.” If Yoongi could, he would reach out and wipe away Jungkook’s tears. If he could, the both of them would be able to escape the treacherous hold of their father and his atrocious legacy. But no matter where they run, the shadows had to follow. If only… “No matter what you believe, I want you to remember - you’re never alone.” He murmurs. “I’ll always be with you forever. Don’t forget.” Jungkook nods. “I won’t forget.”

Yoongi reminds him one last time - a plea in what his weak voice has left to muster.

“Don’t forget me.”

The man turns around, the phone call long finished and by the contorted animosity that makes his face flush, he knows that the call didn’t go according to plan. Maybe their father really didn’t want them after all. Maybe the sum of money was too small or he told them to just kill the two.

“I thought I told you to shut up!” The man grabs his gun, pointing it to Jungkook’s head. The younger boy continues to cry, now wailing out loud in pain. “SHUT UP! SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH.”

Another holds a flashlight right into the boy’s eyes, making him blind as it burns to the back of his lids. Jungkook cries harder.

“Don’t hurt him!” Yoongi shouts out, shifting to shield his brother. “I told you it wouldn’t work. Our father doesn’t care about us. He would rather we die than for him to spend a single cent.” The man looks on in horror at his words, realizing that the child is completely right. Their efforts have been futile, bringing more damage and leading them to nothing.

“The police will be called. Mark my words.” He promises them with a simper. “Now you’re going to get caught. And you’ll burn in hell for what you’ve done.”

The ten year old boy condemns them with cold eyes. The man’s face turns a shade of bright red, temper unmatched as he screams out in fury. Without a second thought, he presses down on the trigger. The sound erupts into the sky, bursting eardrums and alerting others from miles away. BANG!

The gun shoots back, bullet leaving the muzzle - it spirals in the air, straight at Jungkook.

But Yoongi lurches forward, mustering strength to throw himself in the way.

The young boy is hit. He falls to the ground. Crimson floods out like a river, staining the dirt and running to drench his shoes. Jungkook’s mouth drops into a silent scream but his vocal chords betray him. He can’t cry out for help. His breath hitches and his heart stops, shaken to the core as he watches his older brother die in front of his eyes. “Y...o...o...n...gi.”

Jungkook throws himself forward but is unable to reach his brother.

“You idiot! Why would you do that?!” The man shouts, but their heated feud blurs into nothing.

Yoongi lays on the ground, his lids fluttering as it progressively becomes more difficult to stay awake. The corners of his lips turn upwards into a soft smile and he looks at his younger brother for the last time. He mouths something that is inaudible - I love you - his gasps become shallow, onyx hair sweeping his forehead. His eyes are warm, the hue of darkened honey.

His last moments are spent gazing at his younger brother.

“Please. No!” Jungkook shakes, unable to see with the light still blinding his vision and the droplets that drip off his chin. “Yoongi! Yoongi! Please! Yoongi!”

Sirens burst through the chilling air. Shades of blue and red, flashing through the sky. The men curse under their breaths. They begin to scramble helplessly, each confused and panicked on what to do.

Yoongi smiles, finally able to rest peacefully - his eyes close. The hue of his irises are lost.

“YOONGI!”

He’s sitting on the hospital bed, with his knees gathered together. He stares blankly at the white wall in front of him. It reminds him of his mother’s death. The scent of disinfectant lingers in his nose and the ugly gown is stuck to his body. He hates hospitals.

When Jungkook turns to the door, through the tiny window, he catches his father arguing with the therapist in her office. “Withdraw?!” Her mouth drops in shock. “Do-...are you even aware of the trauma that your son has gone through?! He needs therapy. He needs to speak to someone. He needs help. Or else it can be detrimental to his mental state. Especially in the future and he could potentially-”

“Do you know who I am?” Jungkook’s father probs his cold eyes into hers.

“Rose.” Her chief calls her name sternly. “This is Jungkook’s father. He has authority over his son. He knows what’s best.”

She opens her mouth but knows it’ll fall upon deaf ears. The child...if he goes without help…She looks through the glass window, staring at the boy who is void of emotion, almost hollow from within. “Can I at least talk to him….one more time?”

The door slides open and she shuts it behind her.

Jungkook slowly turns his head over, making no change on his face...or rather unable to. “What did he say?” He deadpans. “Am I leaving?”

She sighs. “Soon. Very soon, Jungkook. How are you? Are you doing okay?”

“Fine.” He shrugs, watching as she moves to sit beside him on the bed. “Did you get yelled at?”

“No.” The lady shakes her head. After a pause, she takes his small hands within hers. “Jungkook. Make sure to get plenty of rest and eat healthy, okay?”

He doesn’t blink, simply tilting his head to the side. “I know.”

“Good.” She lifts her hand, stroking his hair gently. “Whatever you feel - sadness, anger, loneliness - it’s all normal. I want you to know that. You’re allowed to feel that way. It’s okay. There’s nothing wrong. I know it must be really hard for you right now. It’s tough but you’re here. You made it through. It might be difficult to see the light at the end of the tunnel but it’s there. Believe me, it’s there. You’re a smart boy, Jungkook.”

“And you’re not alone.” She whispers with a regretful smile. “Anytime...you need to talk to someone, you can call me or come back here. It doesn’t even need to be me. If you can find someone that you trust, it’s good to talk about it.”

Jungkook nods, “Okay.”

And just like that, he leaves.

There’s zero treatment but bare words of advice, hastily spewed out. Jungkook is withdrawn from the hospital without any documentation or records. His father can’t have his name soiled. It cannot be released to the press. The enemies can’t have an upper hand. After all, he is the foundation of Jeon Corporations.

Photographs and films are all burnt, edges curling to red before they disappear into the fire as ash. The family registry is repaired. The maids and workers are all paid, sworn to secrecy and sent off. His clothes, toys, journals, writings are shredded and burnt. Jeon Yoongi’s existence is completely wiped, like he never stepped foot upon the planet.

His father, though remaining with a calm exterior, cries once more behind locked doors. He suffers within his hidden grief. Each time he lays his eyes in his son’s innocent orbs, he’s reminded of the family he used to have. He’s reminded of the eldest son he could’ve saved, his wife that passed away, the sacrifices he made for his own greed, the million regrets that will only continue to fester and never dissipate. It is the burden he carries with the sins he has committed. And though he had brought justice to the men who harmed his child, ended their lives more brutally than they ended his son’s, he is still ridden with guilt.

Every time he looks at Jungkook, a self hatred locked in the depths of his soul magnifies and appears. It’s not until he’s brought back to his senses and the child is cowering away in the dark, crying and shaking, bruises and cuts inflicted by his own hand, does he realize what he has done. Living in such a way, the cycle of hatred continues and continues, building and building.

His eyes grow stone cold. Jungkook’s father becomes numb to pain, unable to cry.

No one mentions the name ‘Yoongi’ again. His death is buried, hidden away like he never existed. And though the younger boy promised, his mind cannot contain the pain; the injury and torture. Slowly, the nightmares stop. The tears that he wakes up with dry out. He no longer lifts his arm to the other side of the bed in the middle of the night, looking for a warm body. He doesn’t long for company or warm words. The agony dims to the back of his head. The hue of his brother’s brown orbs begin to fade away.

Jungkook forgets.

[Present Day]

“Come in…”

The door opens, closing a beat later as you step in. Jungkook’s father is seated in the arm chair, already waiting for your arrival. Unlike the last time you exploded into his office, you’re much calmer this time. “Mr. Jeon.”

“Dr. Y/N. Glad to see that you’ve booked an appointment with me properly this time.”

You force a tight lipped smile as you settle into the chair across from him. “I’m very sorry about my….outburst.”

“It’s understandable.” He waves his hand. “Anyone who’s with my son for a long period of time is bound to go crazy once in awhile.” Your nails seep into the leather of the seat, almost painfully as you suppress the bubbling anger inside your stomach. Jungkook’s father’s eyes are cold as he scrutinizes you. “What did you come here for?”

“In order to help your son…” You state, looking straight into his pupils. “I need to know what happened twenty years ago.”

He chuckles, head falling back. “What is there to know?”

“Your son….” You swallow hard. “Yoongi.”

The corners of his mouth fall into a straight line, a tone that would chill you to the bone if you were even a bit afraid. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve never heard that name in my life.”

He gets up, back turned to you as he moves away.

You stand-

“Jungkook remembers.”

His father halts, freezing mid-step and he cranes his neck towards you, as if not believing his ears. “What?”

“Jungkook remembers.” You repeat, looking at him in desperation. “And the only way I can help him is if I understand what happened back then.”

He downcasts his head, a faint smile of regret twisted on his lips. “You don’t need to know anything.” A murmur leaves his mouth. “This is my business, not yours.”

“It is my business.” You affirm, taking a step forward. “I need to know why you didn’t allow him to seek medical attention. I need to understand why you hid your eldest son’s death.” He winces under your accusations. “Not for me. But for Jungkook.”

“He’s too afraid of asking you himself.”

“I-...I did what I had to do.” He grips the back of his office chair, looking away from you. “I had to protect my only son left….and you’ve just undone everything. Do you know what you’ve done?”

“And what have you done?” The knot between your brows tighten. “Running away….trying to forget…” You know what it’s like. “Those things don’t work. You tried to protect him but you only brought him harm.”

“I know.”

“I don’t think you do.” Your throat croaks out. “All he’s longed for was company. He feels like he’s been thrown away by you - that you don’t care.” You take a staggering inhale, trying to calm your nerves and stop your shaking hands. “Those two….that’s how they felt and that’s how Jungkook still feels. That’s the reason why-”

“-all of this began.” He sighs out, finally lifting his head. “It doesn’t matter. Even if I apologized, it would fix nothing.”

“But there’s so much you can do.” You retort desperately, taking yet another step. “He’s reaching his hand out. Your only son left, Jungkook. He always has. You just have to-”

“Leave.” He cuts you off, turning around. You’re only faced with the sorrow of his voice. “Please. Leave.”

In the moment that you part your lips, ready to step back - the door slams open behind you.

It crashes against the wall, startling and when you turn your head, your eyes grow wide. “Jungkook?”

His long strides fill the distance and he catches your hand within his, interlacing his fingers between yours. He searches your face for anything that might be amiss but is relieved to find you perfectly fine. The minute that Jungkook heard you were going to his father’s office, he came running. “What are you doing here?”

He doesn’t look at his father once, simply beginning to tug you away.

His father shrinks back, pain struck on his face. “Jungkook.”

The called man turns to look at his father, jaw clenching and teeth gritting together. His innocent, brown eyes instantly flash with anger. His grip tightens on you involuntarily and he only loosens it when you cry out. “What do you want from me?” He asks in a lower tone, his face contorts.

An internal struggle. “Jungkook.” “Let me help you.”

A husky pitched voice with a timber that shakes your core emits from his chest. “Do you know what you’ve done to me?” But he fights the alter, thrashing against them to regain control. “You hurt me.” “I don’t want to hear what you have to say.” He grunts out, half between a rough roar and his usual smooth tone. He twitches, furrowing his brows hard to the point where it pulsates his forehead. The alter in his head continues to speak, begging him to let go but he doesn’t.

The man who holds your hand, morphs between Yoongi and Jungkook.

“I will never be able to forgive you. You have no place to mess with my memories. You have no place to remove him from my life.” He breaths out, chest hyperventilating but finally the husky tone is lost in his clear voice. Jungkook has won the battle. “You have no place as my father.”

He turns on his heel, storming out of the room with you in his hand.

Immediately you catch Jungkook’s fiancée, Inhye, looking on in concern; absolutely confused with a frown that mars her beauty. “I’m sorry.” Jungkook glances at her, stopping for a split second.

You realize he was with her when he came running for you.

She smiles, the corners of her lips upturning as she shakes her head. “It’s fine. I understand.”

He nods before brushing past her, the both of you escaping the building.

“Ju-Jungkook.” You cough out, trying to catch your breath as he opens the car door. “Wh-”

He stops, turning to you with a softened smile. “Y/N.” He tilts his head, an expression that you can’t decypher on his face. He reaches out, perhaps to envelop you into an embrace but he stops himself, arms dropping to his side. You knaw on the bottom of your lip, holding back the tears that flood your eyes and hoping he doesn’t notice. Jungkook eases, his anger dissipating as he whispers-

“Let’s go home.”

The ballad that floats from his mouth is a tune of fine silk, somber but sweet. His notes are low and deep, melodic melodies full of tenderness that are delicate like luminescent bubbles. Each lyric interweaves with his inner pain. Yet, he continues to softly sing as if it could vanish the hurt. “Jungkook?”

He grins at you, sitting atop a kitchen stool, mouth pulled into a box shape. “No. It’s Taehyung~”

“Taehyung?”

“Yeah.” He looks away to the ceiling, humming the notes as he swings his legs. “Hey Y/N. Do you want to drink with me?”

As a therapist, you should discourage the use of substances. Drinking with your patient wouldn’t exactly be the most appropriate or healthy atmosphere that you’re trying to promote. But with his eyes, staring up at yours and his voice more of a begging request than a question, you can’t help but give in.

That’s how you find yourself lips to a bottle, taking a quick swig of the bitter liquid, sitting side by side with him in the backyard on the grass. “The first time I ever went out drinking…” Taehyung begins with a laugh. “It was at some random party and the police were called. I nearly got busted but I managed to climb out the window and over the fence.”

You smile as his head falls back in more rambunctious laughter. “Don’t tell Jungkook or he’ll kill me but...I ran down that street naked.”

“Naked?!” Your eyes double in size. “How-what?! Your clothes were off?”

He nods, clutching his stomach. “It was a dare.”

“Oh my god.” You take another sip. “I’m definitely going to tell Jungkook.”

“Don’t!” He shoots his hands out. “He’ll kill me. Or he’ll beat me up.” He visibly shudders. “That guy’s too strong for his own good.”

The both of you look up at the night sky, swirled with the shade of ink. Somehow in his backyard, unlike in the city, you’re able to see the glittering stars that litter the black veil. The longer you stare, the more beauty is uncovered. “You sing well.”

From your tiny remark, the corners of his mouth turn up. Taehyung downcasts his head to the ground, stealing a glance at you before he looks away again, cheeks blooming with a rose hue.

He inhales a breath, parting his lips as his chest emits the mellifluous melodies once more. The tune and lyrics are unfamiliar to your ears. His baritone voice, gentle yet shaking the cotton of dandelion flowers. You shut your eyes, soaking in the music while feeling the mild breeze kiss your cheeks; completely unaware that his tender gaze is pinned on you.

As Taehyung sings to you, the bitterness that once laid in his notes are lost.

“That was beautiful, Tae.” Your lids flutter back, turning to look at him. He smiles, hands on the grass and before you’re even able to blink, he’s leaning forward and pecking his pillow lips on your cheek.

“Thank you.”

You’re stunned, mouth agape from the spontaneous action. He moves back, eyes blinking several times as his body posture shifts, nose wrinkling as he winces once. “Y/N?” The pitch of his voice has changed and he looks around in confusion.

“Who…”

He sighs in exasperation. “Did Taehyung do something out of conduct? I’m sorry. Oh, but it’s me. Namjoon.” The man scans the premise, the bottle in his hand and how close he’s sitting beside you. He smiles, dimples marking each side of his cheek. “Were you drinking with Taehyung?”

“Oh..yeah..I was. Sorry.”

He waves his hand. “There’s no need to apologize. I trust your judgement. If anything, I’m glad that you’re here to keep him under control.” There’s a pause as he takes a drink of the alcohol but then winces right after, putting it on the ground far away from where he’s seated. “I’m just curious.”

“About what?”

“Well…” Namjoon scratches the back of his head. “Are you allowed to do this? I mean...don’t you have a lot of rules and regulations in your field of work, Y/N? Living with us is already…”

“I do.” You sigh. “To be completely honest with you, I’m not even sure of what I’m doing.” You connect your eyes straight into his, deciding to be honest. If there was anyone who knew the situation and how to articulate words well with objective logic, it was him. “I think I’ve gotten too involved, Namjoon. I failed to keep my personal life and feelings separate from work.”

He laughs lightly. “Don’t beat yourself over it. You’re not a robot, Y/N. You have feelings too. If anything, I’m glad you feel this way. You work hard and deserve some kind of meaningful relationship in your life, platonic or romantic…..not saying that you don’t have any meaningful relationships…..you know what I mean.” He smiles, for once tripping over his words and you laugh with him, feeling eased. “It shows that you truly care about Jungkook.”

“Thanks, Namjoon.”

There’s some warm silence that lingers before he clears his throat. “Y/N?”

“Hmm?”

“What are you doing to do now that Jungkook remembers?” His question catches you off guard and though you haven’t formally written up your plans, you already have an idea.

“Try to heal. Whatever way possible. So he can continue life, be happy, live....”

Namjoon nods. “Thank you. Jungkook...he’s grown up to be a good, young man. I’m glad that there’s finally someone out in the world that’s able to help him. You won’t give up on him, right?”

“I won’t.” You promise and his shoulders loosens, content with your firm answer.

Another big smile takes place on his lips as he whispers more gratitudes, murmurs under his breath.

You don’t notice the way he cowers away, blinking a few times as he scrambles desperately to look at your profile. He’s pulled away before he can struggle to remain conscious. He’s gone before you realize. “Y/N?”

“Jung-...no..wait...who-?”

“Jimin.” His eyes crinkle into half-moons. “It’s been awhile, right? Last time we got interrupted. Sorry. I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”

You shake your head. “No. It’s perfectly fine, Jimin. You don’t have to worry.”

“Are you okay now? Are you feeling better?” His concern is evident through the furrow of his brows.

“I’m fine. Perfectly healthy.”

He giggles without restraint. “Good. I’m glad. Don’t get sick anymore.”

“I won’t.” You perk your head to one side, still staring at him. “Or at least I’ll try not to. It’s not like I have any power against the viruses or germs that enter my body.”

“Then I’ll give you all my strength.” He says sweetly. You’re unable to respond when he suddenly stands up and walks off to a bush, plucking a paled orange carnation flower. “Here.”

“Wha-?” You move to stand too, taking the stem from his outstretched hand. “Jimin, you really don’t need t-”

“I know.” He intercepts, scratching the back of his neck coyly. “But I wanted to. Plus, you deserve flowers. No one else ever gives you them.”

“I-...” You’re speechless, confused on what to say but with his bashful nervousness, eyes flickering to question what he’s just done, you melt into a smile. “Thank you, Jimin. It’s really lovely.”

He gleams, nodding his head. “You’re welcome. But don’t tell Jin. He’ll kill me if he knew I picked another one of his flowers.”

You hum, stepping inside the house to grab a vase. It’s a lovely shade of tangerine, pale to the tip of the petal and a floral scent that wafts into your nose. Though it’s a shame that it was taken from the bushes instead of being left to continue to grow and then wither, the thoughtfulness of Jimin makes your heart skadaddle inside your chest. You’re glad you can at least preserve it longer before it wilts.

He follows behind you. When you fill the vase with water, he watches with his chin in his hands, elbows propped up on the kitchen counter. “Y/N.”

“Yes?”

“Jungkook…” Jimin smiles fondly, eyes moving the floorboards. “He’s a rascal.”

“He pushes people away, hates affection, PDA, all that stuff. Sometimes he acts like he’s still the youngest in the family or that he’s five years old.” He playfully huffs out. “But….take care of him, okay?”

“I will.”

Jimin tilts his head, eyes in half-moons with his lips upturned.

Then he wrinkles his nose, as if mid-sneeze, face scrunched up. His breathing changes, posture standing straight. His eyes open as you’re setting the vase on the counter. “Jimi-?”

“Oh ho ho...so that’s who took another one of my flowers?!?!” He suddenly shouts, pointing straight at the plant. “I’ve told him a million times!”

“Jin?”

He snaps his fingers, a smirk playing at his lips. “You finally guessed me.”

You scoff. “Of course I would.” Jin beams, walking towards you in a few strides before he shuffles behind. “What are you doin-” He snakes his arms around your waist, hugging your back. You laugh, repeating your words. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing.”

“Doesn’t seem like nothing?”

“Just stop moving.” He scolds. “Don’t move.”

You still your body, letting it mold against his embrace as he props his chin on your shoulder. A million questions run through your mind, why he’s suddenly behind you and hugging you. If you truly knew what he was up to….it’s so he won’t cry...or at least, you won’t see his tears.

“I know saying this won’t mean anything...and it might even be selfish of me.” Jin sighs, whispering in your ear. “But do you know what I’ve always wanted to do?”

You murmur back to him, “What is it?”

“Live.”

“I want to live.” His wish is simple, so plain and straightforward that it’s almost silly. But with the drawn out silence, you both acknowledge the painful truth of how his longing to live is unattainable. “I want to see the world with my own eyes. I want to travel, to breathe and feel the air on my skin. I want to see my own reflection in the mirror. I want people to call my name. I want to love, Y/N.”

“Jin-”

“Take care of yourself, okay? Don’t skip on meals. Sleep well. I know Jungkook may seem like a naive boy but he’s a young, capable man. Don’t just rely on yourself. He’s trustworthy. Rely on him.”

You’re quiet for a few moments. “Why does it sound like you’re going away?”

“Hmm….I don’t know.” He quips back with a more mischievous tone.

But your mind begins to work backwards. Why is it that all the alters are making an appearance?

“Are you going somewhere?”

“No. I’ll be here.” He responds softly. The kitchen lights flicker, a glow that illuminates your silhouette to the floor. “It’s just...you might be seeing less of me.”

“Less of you?”

Jin laughs, holding you tight in his arms like you’ll disappear. Like he’ll disappear. There’s nothing but silence until he lets you go. “Jin?”

He swivels his head to the open backyard doors, a cool draft entering the house. His eyes widen significantly and he takes off running outside. “Stars! Stars! There are so many stars, Y/N! Come outside and look!”

He spins on his feet, opening up his arms as if he welcomes the entire sky’s weight on his shoulders. His eyes sparkle and he wears a genuine, huge grin - infectious. You smile too, despite being confused. “It’s so pretty!” He exclaims, falling back onto the bed of grass. “Come look with me.”

Hoseok tugs you down, placing his head in your lap. He snuggles up closely, enjoying the cozy feeling and the breath of a breeze whisking through his hair. As if reminded of something, he grabs your hand and puts it on top of his head. You automatically know what to do, carding your fingers through his locks gently. “This is so nice.”

“Are you enjoying yourself that much, Hoseok?” You already know who he is, understanding his bright personality and enthusiastic behaviour.

“Yes.” He exhales. “I wish I could live like this forever.”

The serenity that lasts ten minutes - him blinking up at the stars as you stroke his hair gently - is only broken when he speaks again. It’s serious this time, no longer humorous and happy in his expression. “I know it’s a lot to ask you. But please take care of Jungkook.”

His eyes move from the boundless heavens to your orbs. The corners of his lips turn upwards. “Listen. This guy really likes to work out so don’t let him starve or I’ll come back in a heartbeat, Y/N! He can also be pretty messy without me or Jin to keep things clean. Sometimes his laundry is in a heap before he does anything about it.” You nod and he continues without a breath taken. “I’m proud of him. He’s come such a long way. From the little scared boy into what he is now.”

“Jungkook’s existence is a gift. Please cherish him.”

Hoseok gazes into your eyes, sealing the moment and imprinting it into his brain. His hand reaches up to move a strand of hair falling in front of your face, tucking it gently behind your ear. You open your mouth to speak but he interrupts with a laugh. “I think Yoongi wants to talk to you. He keeps swearing at me and pulling me away.”

“Yoongi?”

He sheepishly nods and then shuts his eyes, hands on his chest.

The minute he opens them again, it’s a completely different person - though he is no longer a stranger.

“Ugh. Ew. What is up with this sappy atmosphere?” He rolls off of your lap onto the grass, jumping to his feet. He curses underneath his breath as he shoves his hands into his pocket, making his way back inside the house. “Jesus Christ. It’s cold.”

“Yoongi?”

He ignores you, stomping childishly up the stairs as you follow behind him, scrambling as you shut the doors. “Why are you following me?” He barks at you with narrowed eyes.

You don’t feel threatened at all, even smiling and he seems unimpressed that his bluntness doesn’t hold any affect on you anymore. “I don’t know.” You chime out with hands behind your back, looking away. “Why can’t I?”

“Suit yourself, stalker.”

Yoongi walks to the end of the hall, opening the door to the room that is unused; the room that is empty except for one thing - the piano.

He turns around as you shut the door. “Play with me.”

Like a command from an owner to a puppy, you plop down onto the bench alongside him. It’s Jungkook’s skin, body, clothes but you know inside, it’s a very different man. “I-I don’t play that well….”

“You did it well last time.” He murmurs, hands laying on top of the keys. “Don’t worry. Just play.”

He waits for you to begin, watching you closely as you inhale a breath and press down on an ivory key. The note erupts into the air, singing clearly and then the tips of your fingers slide across the piano. He immediately smiles, gums shown with his teeth as he joins you. The both of you end up with a happier melody, laughing as he somehow throws in commercial jingles inside the classical piece. You move your shoulders as he sways to the rhythm, the room flooded with joy and smiles.

“You’re really curing Jungkook.” He remarks above the music, looking at you as his hands sweep on the ebony. You’re too concentrated to look up at him, to realize he’s gazing at you.

“I don’t know if you’ll be able to understand. I don’t expect you to. I don’t want you to.” He whispers, the piece slowing down in tempo. “But it feels like there’s seven of us. Seven individuals. All sharing one body. And the fact that you want us to disappear….it hurts.”

You still, freezing as the words shoot you like a bullet. “Yoongi.”

He steals a glance, smiling at you. “Don’t stop.” He scolds, eyes looking at your fingers that aren’t moving. You look back to the piano, melting in your spontaneous chords with his to create a soothing harmony. Melancholy and heartbreak begin to seep into the strings and echos. But this time, rather than the last, it sounds like it’s full of…...hope.

“I’m glad. I’m happy.” He says. “I just want Jungkook to be happy. I want you to be happy. If us leaving is all that it takes then...I’ll be happy to do it.”

“Yoongi.” Your voice cracks as you call his name.

“He doesn’t need us anymore. He’s not the scared boy that he used to be.” Yoongi sighs.

The four of your hands are in rhythm with each other. The vibrations drift to the walls and cracks of the windows. It’s amazing how the two of you can play together, how he can reach over between your hands or over them, pressing on notes that explodes music in the room. He’s more than talented, a gifted genius in the arts that would’ve led him to famous concert halls, pouring not just his sorrows but his soul. Each time he plays, with or without you, you’re always caught into a trance. It’s surreal, like a dream. If only...he was still alive…

The piece ends, last notes reverberating off the floors and ceilings.

“Y/N.” Yoongi looks straight into your eyes, his own are of honey hues, once cold grown warm. “Do you love Jungkook?”

In the hold of his gaze, with vulnerable honesties that you’ve been trying to subdue, it all becomes undone.

The glass of the boundary wall shakes. The cracks widen, spreading across and extending to each end. It barely holds, splitting grooves marking the millimeter. Then it shatters. Jagged shards falling to the ground, a million rhinestones sparkling and shimmering in the light. The glass of the boundary wall breaks.

“I do.”

No matter what familiar corner you turn, the scent of disinfectant follows. Except this time, it’s not clinging onto your clothing. You don’t need it to. Your mind no longer drifts away into the impossible.

Your arms are by your side, calm and collected as the door slides open. He’s seated across the table, stunned and slightly confused. You did call him after all.

Five strides to the table where you look your chief directly in his orbs.

“I’m here to terminate my position as Jeon Jungkook’s psychologist.”

#bts scenarios #bts fanfic #jungkook angst #jungkook fanfic #jungkook #bts scenario #jeon jungkook #jungkook scenarios #one more chapter to go #muhhahaha #i shed so many tears over this one though

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athyrabunlord · 7 years ago

Text

LLSHP 9 - Christmas Banquet

Arc1: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7]

Arc2: [Chapter 8] [Chapter 9] [Chapter 10] [Chapter 11] [Chapter 12] [Chapter 13] [Chapter 14]

Arc3: [Chapter 15 - Under The Black Lake (TBD)]

Interlude: [Carbonado (1)] [Carbonado (2)] [Of Feathers and Wind] [Delphinus (teaser blip)]

[Brief note about School Term] [other LLSHP AU stuff] [YohaMaRuby concept arts] [ChikaYouRiko concept arts] [KanaDiaMari concept arts] [Hogwarts Staff]

[FFN link] (finished the interludes!) [Pixiv Link]

A/N: (ง •̀_•́)ง Yup still keeping up this update schedule of 1 chapter every two weeks! Still slowly editing previous chapters though XD; Anyway, this feels more like a long filler chapter tbh, but it’s full of fun stuff! I enjoyed writing it, so I hope you’ll enjoy reading it too! Words: 8,073

Yoshiko grins at her reflection in the mirror.

How can anyone look so flawless? So utterly bewitching? How can such a perfect human being exist? Ah, no mere mortal could be this beautiful, that is the truth. She, the great Yohane, is a fallen angel after all!

For the umpteenth time, she smoothes the non-existent crinkles of her raven-black velvet dress, her silk gloves brushing over the grey ribbons and white frills. The dark magenta rose imprint along the hem only accentuates how majestic the wearer is.

She is so, so ready for the Christmas Banquet!

Chuckling huskily, she takes one step towards the grand ornate mirror and lightly touches its shiny surface. The last time she used a full-body mirror, the Mirror of Erised, she was filled with unpleasant sense of inferiority and downright confusion of her own identity. But now, this ordinary mirror shows her who she truly is, and she is pleased with herself.

Why desire to be a pristine angel, when her current self is even better?

All the challenges she's faced and the possibility of her soul being damaged only make her stronger.

That incident with the colony of Acromantula caused her to become wary of even the tiniest spiders for days, but since then she has been faring better in those practice duels against the older witches. Her improvement was the only reason why Dia lifted the tickling Jinx she set on Mari. Still, the blonde is banned from coffee and lemon pie until further notice, much to her horror. Taking pity on her, the rest of the group manages to convince Dia to disregard this rule just for tonight's feast.

The Christmas Banquet is an end of the first term celebration where esteemed guests from outside the school would attend as well. The astounding feast, prepared by House Elves and staff members together, is actually not the main attraction of this event.

The spotlight is the Yule Ball, which was originally part of the famed Tri-Wizard Tournament that used to take place between three magical schools. Nowadays, it is a ballroom dance competition that was started by some of the professors back when they were still students. Considering Hogwarts' long history, this is a fairly recent tradition that's been gaining popularity over the decades. The dancing pair not only have to be the best in their waltz, tango or other types, but also boost the flair of their performance with magic. Yoshiko heard rumors of explosive fireworks, dancing leprechauns and even actual storms in the past.

Chaotic, yet incredibly thrilling. What better way to end a term with a blast?

Of course, she did consider entering the competition and enrapture everyone in her fallen angel charm, but there is one teensy bitsy setback she just can't seem to overcome.

She's horrible at ballroom dancing.

And also, she has no partner.

Alright, not one but two setbacks in total. Her confident grin slips into a scowl. Before Hogwarts, she's been an avid follower of Muggle hip-pop, rock and rap, and she knows all the various choreography by heart.

However, ballroom dance is a whole different matter. Riko had been kind enough to try teaching her, but she's stepped on the older girl's feet one too many times. After she fled the Room of Requirement in mortification, it took Hanamaru and Ruby a lot of convincing for her to even attend the Banquet at all.

Yoshiko shakes her head. Her two best friends are correct - all she has to do is look pretty and enjoy herself. There's no need to force herself to waltz or whatever!

Now that her confidence has returned, she steps out of her room to join the rest of her Slytherin housemates so they can head down to the Great Hall together. Whispers of praises and even friendly greetings make her tilt her chin high. While she isn't particularly close to any of them, they've all been civil to her and respect her wish for privacy.

"Nice dress, Tsushima-san!"

"Ku ku ku, I made it myself! I hand-picked all the materials and accessories~"

"That is fascinating! And the ribbon in your hair matches everything so well."

"Oh and your earrings..."

Truth be told, Yoshiko is rather taken aback by all the attention she's been given. Is it because she's dressed all fancy and could probably pass for a noble Pureblood? Or, perhaps, they have truly acknowledged her as a true Slytherin seeing how her grades have improved leaps and bounds under Dia's tutelage? Yoshiko hasn't really paid much attention to her housemates the past few months, so focused on her training and spending time with her friends.

She makes a mental note to be nicer to them. It doesn't hurt to make more allies, especially amongst those who share the same House as her. She searches a crowd for a familiar face, and quietly asks a wizard nearby.

"Erm, does anyone know where Dia-san is?"

The Slytherin prefect, whose aristocratic features imply he must be from an ancient Pureblood family, informs her that Dia is currently with the staff and guests, as the Kurosawa's representative.

Yoshiko pouts. Since she does not have a 'date' or partner, so to speak, she is hoping that she could stick to Dia's side until they reach the Hall at least. Alas, it looks like she'll have to make it there on her own. The rest of her Housemates look like they have partners already, and she isn't comfortable with the idea of accompanying someone she isn't close with anyway.

She quietly trails after the other Slytherins, glad to be distracted from her thoughts by their praises and curious questions about her fashion. Hushed murmurs then reach her ears after they step out of the Dormitory, and she blinks in surprise when the people in front of her part ways to allow a familiar girl to get through.

Yoshiko can't help but whistle in wonder. "I almost didn't recognize you! I thought I'm supposed to meet up with you and Zuramaru just outside the Hall?"

Ruby smiles shyly, clearly uncomfortable at how every pair of eyes seem to be on her. The shorter girl is clad in a dress robe of ebony and ivory hue, though the cape is adorned with the Hufflepuff bronze. With her hair tied in a ponytail, she looks rather dashing yet retains her characteristic cute aura.

"Um, Hanamaru-chan said she'll meet up with us later… she's having some trouble with her outfit, but when I tried to stay and help, she asked me to pick you up," Ruby twitters. "Hehe, you look so pretty, Yoshiko-chan!"

"Hnff, of course, it's Yohane-sama you're speaking with." As someone who enjoys the spotlight, Yoshiko is starting to find all those whispered conversations around them disconcerting. "Let's go then?"

As if understanding her intention, Ruby nods and holds out her gloved hand in a chivalrous manner. It is at such moment that Yoshiko has to remind herself that, no matter how harmless and critter-like Ruby is, she is still a Kurosawa Pureblood who has a different upbringing than her. Either way, the gesture endears the shorter girl to her even more.

"Heh, it's like you're a knight in shiny armor-," Yoshiko's grin twitches. "Well, I probably shouldn't use the word 'shiny', ugh. But really, why the dress robe? You look really good in it but I'd expected you to wear a dress?"

"Oh, that was my plan but last night, I received a parcel from m-my family. This is the formal attire I used to wear back then during important events. See? These colors represent the Kurosawa family," Ruby's smile softens, prompting Yoshiko to gently squeeze her friend's hand in comfort. "It's the first mail I've received from them since the night we got Sorted. I see they're trying to reconcile with me, so of course I'm more than happy to try as well."

"That's good. I mean, they should've long accepted you but at least this is better than nothing. Although, the Hufflepuff color-?"

There's a mischievous twinkle in Ruby's green eyes. "Hehe, I modified it myself. I'm proud to be a Puff and I'll always be."

Yoshiko chuckles fondly at her friend. "And I'm proud of you, Ruby. How about Zuramaru though? Please don't tell me she's also in dress robes or some… high-class samurai outfit or something."

It may sound ridiculous though she has no problem imagining the brunette wearing that. Hanamaru does love literature, especially romance fiction set in certain historical periods. Or, she could be draped in fancy ribbons and flowy dresses, not knowing how to put it on, while murmuring 'mirai zura' in admiration.

Ah, Hanamaru will probably smack her if she says that to her face. She can try, Yoshiko smirks, tonight, the great Yohane shall not be tamed by a mere little demon's whims!

"You'll have to wait and see, Yoshiko-chan. I promised Hanamaru-chan not to say anything to you because she wants to see your reaction," Ruby's steps gain a bit of a bounce as they walk down the hallways.

Yoshiko doesn't get a chance to protest because a pair of familiar orange and silver pounce on Ruby the moment they round the corner. Unlike her, the Gryffindor duo is quite vocal about their adoration of the handsome little Hufflepuff.

"Piki!"

"As expected of our Ruby-chan!"

"A real noble! A real prince!"

"Look at the fabric, look at the design! It's the real deal! Ahhh do you mind if I borrow it tomorrow? For research?"

"Hehe, you and your costume obsession, You-chan~ Still, both of you look so ikemen~! Kya, aren't we lucky, Riko-chan?"

Yoshiko allows her gaze to sweep over the three Third-Years, amazed by their respective appearances. Riko has chosen a conservative gown of amaranth and wine hue that's decorated with sakura petals along the hem, a perfect outfit that matches the pretty wearer's personality. Simple and elegant, the Ravenclaw chuckles daintily at her friends' antics. No doubt the voted campus beauty will be surrounded by suitors vying for her hand in a dance.

Chika is as cheerful as always, though there is now an inexplicable grace added to her charisma. Her hair is straightened with the signature braid adorned with a white rose. As opposed to her usual bright colored clothes, she is wearing a dark indigo cocktail dress embellished with white satin belt. Admittedly, if it weren't for her familiar laughter and fawning over Ruby, Yoshiko would have thought she is a refined guest from some upper-class family!

"Ehehe~ You-chan styled my hair!" Chika twirls around and winks at Yoshiko, who grins back in spite of herself. Yup, that's still the spirited Beater alright. "Can't thank you enough, Captain Watanabe!"

"Ha ha, 'twas my honor, First Mate Takami!" You salutes back, this characteristic gesture now rather suave given her outfit. Unlike her buddy, the Seeker is dressed in a formal suit that is probably made from pricey material, judging from the way it gleams at just the right angle. The popular witch, combined with her attractive smile, will most likely be chased by her fanclub the whole night.

Noticing Yoshiko's questioning gaze, You chuckles heartily. "I was going to wear a dress too, but ahaha our Housemates kinda bullied Kanan-chan and I into wearing a suit… they prepared this outfit for me, and I can't resist! I'm so going to research the fabric and its origins later! I mean, look at this tie! The gradient color is so pretty!"

"Well, you both look quite nice. Are you each other's dates?" Yoshiko smirks. Even after witnessing the duo's impressive teamwork and display of powerful magic, her opinion of them as dunderheads hasn't changed. Nowadays though, it's more of an affectionate nickname than having any derisive connotation behind it.

"Nope," they reply simultaneously. "We're Sakurauchi-hime's escorts tonight!"

Riko, who is standing several paces behind them, squeaks in surprise when she's promptly sandwiched between the two. It looks comical really, if Yoshiko doesn't know the history behind the three. While the self-proclaimed bodyguards playfully tease their flustered friend and Ruby, two more witches join their gathering.

"My my, everyone looks so gorgeous~!"

Mari, for some reason, is also wearing a tailored suit, her usually wavy golden hair straightened for the occasion and styled at the back with a few emerald clips. Combined with the azure bowtie, dark jacket with peaked lapels, turquoise waistcoat and more, she is fully decked for the Ball. She would have passed for an European gentleman if it weren't for her generous chest area, which just couldn't seem to be hidden.

As if reading her thoughts as always, the blonde smirks at her and puffs out her bosom even more. Yoshiko despairingly glances down at her own and grumbles. "Hmnnff, don't you look excited for the feast."

"You bet I am! I'm dying for my precious lemons," Mari purrs sweetly as she tugs on her date's arm. Yoshiko is pretty sure the implication has flown over the others' heads, and she groans inwardly at the realization that she is corrupted enough to know the Ravenclaw's double meaning.

Mari's lovely date appears just as exasperated. The tall witch has long cascading indigo tresses as dark and flowing as the ocean itself. The gradient plum and purple color of her silken mermaid dress complements her hair and eyes, while the translucent violet shawl gives her an overall mystic quality. Although, she looks familiar for some reason.

"Kanan-chan! How could you! You were supposed to wear a suit with me!" You puffs up her cheeks in dismay.

Yoshiko's eyes almost bulge out of their sockets. Come again?

"Ahaha sorry You," that laidback tone of laughter definitely belongs to the Gryffindor Lions' Captain. "We flipped a coin and I lost, so I had to wear the dress."

Yoshiko could only stare.

"Oh oh oh~ You've ensnared the lil'kitty here in your charms, Kanan~" Giggling, Mari rests her chin on her partner's shoulder.

"What!? No! It's just that, I've never seen her without that whip of a ponytail!"

"She hisses~ Maybe she'll scratch too~"

Yoshiko indignantly snarls at the blonde, almost blurting out that she's the cat Animagus, not her, but manages to remember last minute that You and Chika are present too. Her irritation subsides a bit when the others also agree that they've never seen Kanan with her hair down either.

"Anyways, Kanan and I will so win the Ball this year! We've had four years of practice, it's our turn to finally shine!" Fire blazes in Mari's eyes, though her expression couldn't remain serious for long as a Cheshire grin breaks through.

"But how about your arm?" Yoshiko squints at Kanan's supposedly injured arm, which looks unblemished.

"Mari cast a glamor Charm on it, and for the duration of the dance, I can do this," the older witch taps her bracelet and momentarily reveals strings of magic that blend in with her hair. "This enables me to move my arm as per my thoughts."

"Remember not to overuse it." Riko clearly doesn't seem too happy that Kanan isn't letting her injured arm rest.

"Don't worry, Rikocchi~! That's why I'm the lead, yes?" Mari winks at her junior. "I'm wondering though, none of you are entering the competition?"

Chika waves her hand. "Welp, I'm interested, but not with you two as rivals! Besides, we're keeping Riko-chan away from nasty suitors! Also, protecting our Ruby-chan."

At this, the Gryffindor duo smothers the startled Hufflepuff in a hug. Yoshiko rolls her eyes. "How about this one? I still remember how scary your fanclub is, You-san."

You points to herself, blinking naively. "But I'm with Chika-chan and Riko-chan?"

"So? They'll still try to get to you. Since you don't have a partner, many will try to make you dance with them," Yoshiko explains as patiently as she could. Could this dummy be more dense?

"But Chika-chan and Riko-chan are my partners-?"

Yoshiko groans and facepalms.

"Did you hear that, Rikocchi? Just enjoy yourself tonight," Mari's voice is light and teasing, though Yoshiko could understand the underlying meaning. Riko does appear tense from all the affection You and Chika have been showering her with.

"But I-"

"No buts! Fallo e basta~ That means no Disillusion Charm either." Tutting, Mari holds up her finger like an older sister chiding an unreasonable sibling. "It's a banquet, a feast, a celebration! Come on, Dia must be dying to see our lovely faces inside the Hall already."

"It'll take a while before we can rescue her from those guests though," Kanan smiles as her partner leads her inside, followed by the playfully bickering You and Chika who take Riko by the arm on each side.

"We're gonna wait here for Zuramaru," Yoshiko calls out after them, determined to ignore her growling tummy at all the delicious aroma wafting towards her nose.

She glances at Ruby, whose hair is a tad disheveled from all the hugs she received earlier. She helpfully holds up a pouch mirror as the shorter girl fixes her bangs. "So? Who're you gonna dance with later? Chika-san? You-san?"

"E-Eh? But you said you're not going to dance right? Then I can't just leave you alone," Ruby says firmly.

"Oh I just assumed you gotta dance as a Kurosawa. I overheard from my Housemates that many of them are expected to dance, to present their family or something. Then again, you don't have to, since you're here as Ruby, simple as that."

Ruby returns her grin. "Well, I do want to dance with Hanamaru-chan and you, if you don't mind, Yoshiko-chan."

"... you saw how I stepped on Lily's foot didn't you? She was nice enough not to say anything but I'm sure she had to use potions to make the bruises go away."

"That's because you were under pressure. It'll just be us three, so you'll be fine!"

Yoshiko finds Ruby's smile infectious. "I just gotta do my Rubesty huh?"

"Yup! Starting right now!" Suddenly, the shorter girl turns her around and pushes with strength unexpected of her.

Yoshiko feels her breath caught in her throat at the sight of Hanamaru, who gives her a bashful little wave. The brunette is wearing a traditional kimono of amber and gold shades, extravagant in its floral motif and intricate designs fitting for festive occasions. Even then, the whole attire somehow emphasizes Hanamaru's unique aura of humility and serenity.

She is beautiful.

"Sorry to keep you two waiting zura… it's been a while, so it took me some time to on the obi," the brunette sticks out her tongue sheepishly, gesturing at the elaborate sienna sash around her midriff.

Yoshiko is still zoned out while the two Hufflepuffs giggle and fawn over each other's attire. She only snaps back to her senses when Hanamaru reaches up and prods her forehead.

"Ow! What did you think you were doing, you disrespectful little demon!"

"Because you weren't paying attention zura!"

"No, I'm over-paying attention, Bakamaru," Yoshiko mumbles in embarrassment, hoping her cheeks aren't red.

"Zura?"

"Nothing, and stop giggling already Ruby! Geez, what's with the little demons tonight. It's mutiny, I say!"

"Yoshiko-chan is easier to rile up tonight, ne, Ruby-chan?"

"Mari-san called her a kitty cat earlier, Hanamaru-chan~"

"Oooh, that fits her zura~"

"Grrrr, shorties don't get to talk." Miffed, Yoshiko ruffles their hair using her slightly-superior height, grinning in satisfaction at their protests. "Why the kimono though? You're gonna stand out since everyone's wearing western-style clothing."

"Not true zura. Professor Koizumi is wearing a kimono, so is Professor Sonoda," Hanamaru pouts, "Besides, I don't have any dresses zura, and it's what my grandma sent me when I Owled her that we're having a banquet."

Thank you thank you, may Satan bless your soul, Grandma Kunikida. Yoshiko chants in her head while outwardly appearing as nonchalant as possible. "Whatever. At least you're wearing contacts and not wearing those granny glasses. Let's go in already. I'm starving!"

"Me too," Hanamaru attaches herself to Ruby's offered arm, giggling. "Hehe, we're like your dates ne, Ruby-chan?"

In response, the dashing Hufflepuff bows to Yoshiko like a gentleman and holds out her other hand. The Slytherin rolls her eyes at their expectant gaze and curtsies before accepting it.

Though flustered, Yoshiko finds herself giggling with her friends as they enter the Great Hall together.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

"Again, that's Miss Ohara and Miss Matsuura with their spectacular performance. Please give them a round of applause!"

The Charms Professor has already used the Sonorous Charm to do announcements, but even then her voice is drowned by the student body's thunderous cheers. Yoshiko finds herself clapping just as hard as everyone else, amazed by what she has witnessed.

Magic really brings a simple ballroom dance to a whole new level, doesn't it?

The waltz started normally like ones Yoshiko had seen in older Muggle movies, with the two witches moving in tandem and in sync. Never would she imagine the jokester Mari and jockey Kanan to twirl and sway so gracefully along with classy music. They were obviously well-rehearsed, but their years of friendship probably enabled them to read each other's movement to make everything flow.

Then their pace picked up, morphing seamlessly to a tango while the sparks and whirls of fire lit up the center stage. With a mixture of levitation charms, aguamenti and most likely some advanced magic Yoshiko knew nothing of, a screen of water enveloped the pair like a dome. Mari and Kanan seemed to be competing, fervently swimming around the arena as conjured marine creatures, the seal and dolphin Patronus Charms, and Transfigured creatures joined their acrobatic dance.

Needless to say, they finished with a literal bang, glitters and all, skating down the icy slope which dissipated into cottony snow flakes.

Yoshiko has to admit, that is one shiny performance.

"Yup, I'm glad I didn't try to enter the competition, at least not this year!" Chika's eyes are practically sparkling. "I'd rather watch the performances! Hehe, and watch Riko-chan playing the piano of course."

The Ravenclaw is seen smiling behind her grand piano, surrounded by Elves and other student members of the orchestra. In a way, Riko is shielded from possible suitors and the majority of the audience's attention during the Yule Ball, which is probably why she accepted the position in the first place.

Yoshiko sips at her strawberry punch, thoroughly enjoying the banquet so far. After the mouth-watering Christmas feast, the long tables in the Great Hall were then rearranged to make space for the Yule Ball in the center. High tables full of desserts and drinks were lined up against the walls while attendees mingled and simply enjoyed the show. The translucent ceiling was charmed to show snowflakes gently drifting in the evening sky, even though it didn't snow at all today.

At the front, the usual staff tables have been replaced by round ones for the various guests. Ruby had discreetly pointed out to her two Muggleborn friends some of the important figures, such as Heads of certain Departments from the Ministry, representatives from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons, and even the illustrious wandmaker from Diagon Alley.

The Professors appear to be familiar with many of these guests, judging from the friendly and relaxed manner of their conversations. This encourages the older witches and wizards to introduce themselves and network among these influential people. Yoshiko notices many of her Slytherin Housemates already making impressions with the Ministry employees.

The most distinguished one is the Head Girl. As the Kurosawa heiress, Dia is dressed in full regalia of ebony and ivory, with the Slytherin cloak charmingly donned over her left shoulder. Various medals and trinkets decorate her garment, while her lustrous long hair, pulled in a fishtail braid, is draped elegantly over her right shoulder. With her austere demeanor and confident smile, she blends in well with the other adults. Yoshiko has almost mistaken her as a guest, a royalty even, and once again she is struck by the weight of being a Pureblood.

Dia isn't here just as herself, but as representative of her family.

Ruby appears antsy as well, unable to go help her older sister since they have to maintain the image of estranged sisters in public. They have no idea who the enemies are, and there is a possibility that they could be among the attendees right here in this very Hall.

Yoshiko downs her beverage and reaches for a different drink. Ruby's anxiousness is rubbing off of her, so she is relieved to see Mari and Kanan heading for the front. Surely, the two would rescue their friend as they had declared earlier. Oh, the pair has stopped to greet a bearded blond man. Judging from the familiar way they act and his uncanny Cheshire grin, he must be Mari's father. It's easy to forget that the quirky Ravenclaw came from a prestigious family too, since she doesn't act like one.

"Aren't you drinking too much zura?"

Yoshiko shakes her fingers at the frowning Hanamaru and takes another sip of her candy cane cocoa. She furrows her brows and puts the drink away before reaching for another one on the table, this time an eggnog coffee.

"Not this one either?" Ruby asks with an exasperated smile.

"Nope. At least, I don't feel any different," Yoshiko glares at the mug. "Just where could it be?"

Earlier, right before the Yule Ball, the Deputy Headmistress had announced that the Potion Professor prepared a surprise - the Felixis Felicis potion was randomly added to one of the many drinks. Yoshiko is determined to find that Liquid Luck. Being plagued by misfortune all her life, she wants to experience how it feels to not be unlucky for once, no matter how temporarily.

So far, no success.

"Maybe I should just go for those-"

"No," Hanamaru pulls at her arm before she could head for the cocktails and wine glasses on the other side. "You're still underage zura! Professor Sonoda stressed that it is for everyone, so they wouldn't have mixed the potion with drinks that aren't accessible to the younger students zura."

"Hnff, what would a mere Zuramaru know-"

"Oh, the next performance is starting!" Peacemaker as always, Ruby gestures at the center where another pair strolls through the floor just as confidently as Mari and Kanan did earlier. Since Yoshiko's feeling quite bloated, she decides to take her friend's advice to give up and enjoy the rest of the Yule Ball.

By the end, Yoshiko finds herself agreeing with Chika, that the competition is quite fierce. Mari and Kanan were good, but so were the others. It would probably be down to technicalities and the popular vote to determine which pair gets to be winners.

"Ok, so what now?" Yoshiko looks around the Hall, puzzled by how no one seems to be leaving. "Isn't the Banquet over?"

"Pfff, this is where the fun starts!" As if on cue, different sort of music starts playing and many students flood into the center stage to dance. Chika opens her arms dramatically. "Come on, who wants to start? Heh heh, Ruby-chan, how about you?"

"E-Eh? I-" The younger witch is gently but firmly pushed towards a confused Hanamaru, who is also nudged by a grinning You.

"Go on, enjoy yourselves!" The Gryffindors say in unison, which seems to give Ruby the courage she needs to ask the brunette for a dance. Both giggling, the Hufflepuffs enter the dance floor with their postures relaxed. This isn't like a performance where practically everyone is watching you, so the two girls are able to dance normally without such pressure.

Admittedly, they look adorable, and Ruby is a good lead! Chivalrously, she twirls the brunette around and her steps are unhurried for the latter to follow. Hanamaru's kimono sleeves twirl with her movements, the ribbon in her hair fluttering a bit as she try to match Ruby's pace. If only there's a camera!

An annoying prod to her side jostles her out of her observation. "What do you want?!"

"Don't you wanna dance too?" Chika pouts, one arm draped around her buddy You. "Come on, ya gotta save You-chan from her fangirls~"

Yoshiko peers over their shoulders and flinches at the sight of many witches staring their way, their bodies tense as if ready to spring into action the moment You steps away from the safety zone of expensive champagne glasses nearby. "And throw myself into a pack of rabid beasts? I think not!"

And besides, these dunderheads are quite transparent. They keep glancing at Riko's direction every few minutes, obviously waiting for the right moment to ask her for a dance. The Ravenclaw is currently occupied at the front, conversing with some of the Elven musicians.

"Yoshiko-chan, would you like to dance with me?"

"Ruby? You've finished dancing with Zuramaru?" Relieved to get away from the Gryffindors just for a while, Yoshiko hurriedly takes Ruby's offered hand.

"Oh, she's dancing with Kanan-san right now-"

"What?!"

Miffed, Yoshiko searches the crowd for the ridiculously tall-and-short pair. Indeed, the two are smiling brightly as Kanan attentively complements her movements with the younger girl. At least, the pair looks more like siblings than a couple, unlike the others around them. Gah, why is Bakamaru giggling so much? Is it really that fun!? What's with the blush?

Yoshiko takes a deep breath. Nope, she is so not jealous. The older Gryffindor has done a lot for them, and she's grateful for her help. Nuh-uh. Not jealous. Zen mode.

"I thought Kanan's supposed to be retrieving your sister from those guests?"

"Yup, Onee-chan's not trapped at the front anymore," Yoshiko follows Ruby's finger and sees Dia and Mari conversing on the side, surrounded by various prefects and students. It would be awhile before they could make their way to where Chika and You are. "Fine, whatever, let's get this started!"

"Okay, so first you- piki?!" Before Ruby could position them in the standard waltz stance, Yoshiko drags her friend around and twirls rather aggressively.

"Ku ku ku, I ain't gonna abide by silly ballroom rules! This is a free for all, Ruby! The music is kinda upbeat too, so I'm gonna do it my style!"

As much as she could in this dress anyway. It is really too bad she can't breakdance, or she's certain that she could impress many fellow students with her awesome techniques. Some of the Muggleborns are familiar with her moves and even cheer her on, while the Purebloods just stare at them blankly. There's curiosity in their eyes though, so Yoshiko happily pulls the squeaking Ruby along with her flow.

"That's pretty wicked, Yoshiko-chan, didn't know you could dance!" You is grinning while Chika welcomes an exhausted Ruby back to their midst. Yoshiko poses proudly, adrenaline rushing in her veins while a brilliant idea occurs to her.

Maybe she should ask Hanamaru for a dance?

She isn't given the opportunity to ask, for You excitedly pulls her onto the dance floor before she could react. Cold sweat trickles down Yoshiko's neck when she hears furious murmurs and disappointed grumbles from the pack of hungry wolves... no, fangirls.

You-san, you dense idiot! You're too close! Yoshiko couldn't help but blush when the older witch pulls her close, so close that their cheeks are practically touching. There are some screams or maybe cheers around them, she couldn't tell the difference, but out of instinct she clings to her partner as if this could save her from fangirls' wrath.

"Eheh, hang on~ Yousorou!"

"Wha- yeeeek!" Suddenly, You picks her up and throws her into the air!

She automatically tries to cover her fluttering dress, but she discovers that she doesn't have to. You must have conjured dancing feathers that hover around her, to block any viewers from seeing her underwear while she is airborne. Several brooms appear out of nowhere, and You tap-dances her way into the air, laughing and bowing as she approaches the slowly descending Yoshiko.

Strong arms easily catches her when You frog-leaps over the assembled tower of brooms. The athletic Gryffindor spins her around for several more paces before gently setting her back on her feet. The spectators' deafening applause overcomes the fangirls' protests as You rubs the back of her hair and hesitantly waves.

Yoshiko breathes raggedly, trying to comprehend what just happened as she leans against the older witch's shoulder.

"That was pretty good! Maybe we could refine it and enter the Ball next year- ow!"

Yoshiko scowls ferociously and smacks You's arm hard.

Again.

And again.

And once more.

"C-Chika-chan! She's punching me!"

"That's just a form of affection zura~"

"What-! Watch what you say, Bakamaru!"

Her ears feel like they are burning when she notices the rest of their group chuckling at their antics. At least, Hanamaru has returned from her dance with Kanan and is now stuffing her face with various desserts. Good, that's the Zuramaru she's used to. Be good and stay there. Keep feeding.

"That was amazing! What about it? Like You-chan said, you should form a duo, maybe called 'You & Angel?" Chika's previously tamed ahoge has sprung back up, swaying eagerly as the girl gives them a hug.

"No! And g-get off! I'm sweaty," Yoshiko pries the exuberant Gryffindors off of her person. Is this what Ruby feels all the time, being crowded by the baka duo? Although, it doesn't feel that bad, it's nice actually, because she can sense that the two witches are sincere in their hugs- no! The great Yohane shall not fall for their charm so easily!

She retreats to the side, huffing and puffing, and rummages through the tables for a drink she hasn't tried before. She glares at a glass of mikan juice, filled with pulp, for a good full minute. Taking a deep breath, she grabs the beverage and gulps down the content in noisy slurps.

Tearfully, she sticks out her tongue and waits for something to happen. Nope, other than a disagreeing tummy, she doesn't feel any special. Still no luck in finding that Felix Felicis potion. She glances back at her friends, noting that Chika and Hanamaru are now busy examining some sort of mikan dessert while Ruby happily eats a cup of pudding. Riko has finally joined them and is nibbling at a sandwich that You brought for her from another table. Kanan and Dia are several paces away, surrounded by admirers and younger students who must be taken by their respective outfits.

Hmn, where's that shiny cat Animagus?

She finds her answer a moment later when something reels her back onto the dance floor. Her vision is momentarily obscured by a top hat, which she scrambles to pull off. Half filled with annoyance and resignation, she blinks at the blonde witch holding out her gloved hand.

"Shall we dance~?"

Her lilting tone is a pitch lower than Yoshiko is used to, compelling her to accept the offer. Grinning, Mari begins to lead her around the other dancers, spinning her away and pulling her back at the right moment. Due to their height difference, Yoshiko is forced to peer up at the smirking witch, whose endowed bosom are rather distracting in an irritating way.

"Why do you want to dance with me anyway? Go back to your partner already." And keep that said partner away from Zuramaru, cheh.

"Why not? It's fun to dance with my cute little kouhai~ Besides, everyone's dancing, no?"

Yoshiko dares to glance around, noticing that Chika and Ruby have entered the center stage as well. You has somehow retrieved Kanan from Dia, who waves off her friend and is still occupied by the other students. It looks like the Gryffindor duo have failed or haven't tried asking Riko for a dance. Hanamaru is keeping Riko company as the two girls exchange accessories. True to her name, the sakura hairpin looks good on Hanamaru, while the saffron ribbon seems to make the hue of Riko's hair richer.

"Worried about Rikocchi, are we?"

"Well, yeah. Since that day with the Acromantulas, I've been watching her and the other two. It doesn't seem like Lily knows about the rumors, but those two bakas should be less obvious!"

"Hmm? Like how obvious you are towards Hanamaru-chan?"

"Yeah, exactly that! Wait what?! No! W-W-What are you talking about!"

Snickering, Mari tugs Yoshiko close and muffles her indignant shrieks against her coat. "Calm down~ Rikocchi is smart. She probably knows already, but doesn't want to believe it, understandably so."

"I see… what do we do then?"

"Now now, don't you worry about her. Just leave it to Kanan and I! We've got it worked out. You just focus on getting your girl~"

Mari smothers Yoshiko against her chest again before she could protest. "You'll see soon enough. It took a lot of convincing earlier, but Kanan and I cracked her down. There's no way Rikocchi would say no, teehee~"

Yoshiko scowls in the embrace and reluctantly relaxes. The hug does feel nice and comforting. While a part of her still doubts Mari due to her wacky ideas, she does agree that the senior is dependable whenever the occasion calls for it.

By the time they return to Riko and Hanamaru, the other pairs have finished their dance as well, while Dia has finally extracted herself from admirers. Yoshiko looks at every single one of her friends, pleased at this little bubble of nine. Her eyes meet Hanamaru's, and she freezes in self-consciousness. Puzzled, the brunette tilts her head and smiles adorably. A small splash of whipped cream is stuck to her puffed up cheek, which Yoshiko exasperatedly wipes away with a napkin.

"Aren't you eating too much, Butamaru?"

Frowning at the teasing nickname, Hanamaru punches Yoshiko's arm.

"Ow, that hurts!"

"Hnff, it'd better hurt zura!"

Yoshiko rolls her eyes. "Whatever, like you said, that's just a form of affection, ku ku ku~"

To her surprise, Hanamaru appears flustered and scoots away, placing a bewildered Ruby between them. Huh, that didn't go well. Time from Plan B.

"Okay, Yoshiko-chan, wish us luck," Chika and You suddenly whisper near her.

She hastily grabs hold of their arms before they could head towards Riko. "Wait, you're gonna go for it-?"

"Well, you're the only one we've told our little secret to, Yoshiko-chan," Chika fiddles with her fingers while You lets out a forceful chuckle. "Yeah, Chika-chan and I figure, it's now or never. We'll see which one of us Riko-chan picks, and we can move on."

"But-" Yoshiko helplessly glances at Mari, whose fiery eyes are focused elsewhere. Likewise, Kanan seems to be holding her breath, her expression intense as she stares in the same direction. Curious, Yoshiko and the two Gryffindors turn to look for what's holding their attention captive.

"Riko-san, may I have the pleasure of dancing with you?"

Dia's posture is slightly tense as she extends her hand towards the dazed girl. Riko's lips are parted in soundless surprise, her eyes wide as she glances between the gloved hand and Dia's earnest gaze. A pretty blush crawls up Riko's neck and cheeks as she daintily accepts the offer. Both smiling, one pleased and one coy, the pair slowly makes their way towards the dance floor. Many pairs of eyes are focused on them, most likely just as taken aback as Yoshiko is. She hasn't expected Dia to ask, or Riko to say yes.

Yet, looking at the two witches swaying to the gentle ballad, it somehow makes sense. They look like a match made in heaven, the way they seem absorbed in each other's presence. There's no need to concern themselves with unwanted attention, for they are already in their own world.

Yoshiko sighs quietly. In a way, she is envious. That's the kind of perfect scene she wants to appear to onlookers, with…

She glances at her friends, seeing how Hanamaru is just as mesmerized while Ruby looks happy for her older sister. Kanan and Mari exchange a quiet high-five, both grinning at how it turns out. Now, all that's left are the two possibly heartbroken duo.

Though disappointed, there is also something else in Chika and You's calm expressions. "Well, it's not like we have a chance against Dia-san anyway." "Yeah, it's not surprising that Riko-chan would accept."

Yoshiko scoffs and roughly pulls at Chika's arm, looping it around You's. The two witches blink at her innocently.

"Go on, go dance already. Don't mope here. Didn't you tell me to enjoy myself earlier? Now, it's your turn, both of you."

"Huh? With Chika-chan?" "With You-chan? Eeeh?"

"Shoo, off you go!" Their disbelief is actually heartrending to see, knowing what they used to be, so Yoshiko assertively pushes the two towards the dance floor. You nervously brushes through her hair while Chika awkwardly plays with her braid. After a few moments, their fingers finally interlace as characteristic smiles blossom upon their visage.

"Welp, just as she said, let's just enjoy ourselves, You-chan!"

"Yeah, wanna try an even more difficult stunt, Chika-chan?"

"Oho, you mean with more brooms and possible aquatic additions too, captain?"

"I knew you can read my mind, partner~ Let's consider this a prep for next year's Yule Ball!"

Like a proud parent, Yoshiko folds her arms and gazes after the pair until they blend in with the crowd. Matchmaking success! Whatever happens after is up to the two, but Yoshiko is confident that something good would bloom from this night.

"Hehe, they look cute together, don't they?" Ruby appears just as happy.

"All thanks to Yohane-sama!" Grinning, Yoshiko grabs a glass of water and pretends it's champagne. "Cheers, everyone!"

As they toast to many things, the clinks of glasses and laughter have re-ignited the rush of adrenaline she felt earlier. If the others could pair off so smoothly, surely it isn't that difficult to ask a certain brunette out for a simple dance?

Alas, as decreed by a fallen angel's misfortune, she misses her chance yet again. Hanamaru suddenly grimaces and excuses herself. "I-I need to go to the washroom zura-!"

Kanan blinks. "Oh, I'll go with y-"

"We need to stay to hear the announcement, for the winning pair of Yule Ball," Mari lightly taps on Yoshiko's shoulder. "If I recall correctly, you've drank a lot tonight, haven't you?"

"Y-Yeah, I did. I'll go with Zuramaru then. Ruby, you coming?" Though a little confused, she does agree it's better to go with company instead of alone. For some reason, Ruby shakes her head and makes a Rubesty pose.

"Huh? But-"

"Just go already, Yoshiko-chan!"

Still not understanding Ruby's encouraging smile, Yoshiko shrugs and hurries after Hanamaru. In contrast to the boisterous Great Hall and its glamorous decor, the corridors appears rather desolate and even sinister. Candles valiantly light up the path as she walks past some of the straggler students and into the courtyard. Her heels crunch quietly on the thin layer of frozen snow, leftover from days before, and her breath comes out in fleeting white puffs.

Hanamaru is standing in the middle of the garden, seemingly entranced by the bright quarter-moon and the glittering stars in the night canvas above.

"Hey, are you okay? I thought you're going to the washroom?" Yoshiko hesitantly approaches her friend.

"Hmm? Yoshiko-chan?" The brunette glances at her before returning her gaze towards the scenery. "I was… I felt quite dizzy earlier, so I thought it was something I ate zura."

"Pff, you did eat a lot…"

Hanamaru furrows her brows, though her expression relaxes a moment later. "Anyway, as it turns out, I just need some fresh air. I feel a lot better now zura."

"That's good at least. With the way you ran out earlier, I thought you were gonna hurl, heh," Yoshiko then slaps herself inwardly. She needs to stop making fun of the brunette or else she'll never be able to get that dance she wants!

Thankfully, Hanamaru seems to be too engrossed in this tranquil atmosphere to get upset. "What do you think, Yoshiko-chan? This feels like an illustration from storybooks zura. Isn't it beautiful?"

Yoshiko has always found nature to be otherworldly, an abstract concept to be admired and nothing more. The most she can do is immerse herself in the peace that nature offers. Yes, the icy snow appears to blanket the ground and any vegetation in an artistic manner. Yes, the cloudless sky allows the viewer to search among the constellations for possible shooting stars. Yes, the night breeze, while frigid, is also fresh and cleansing.

She glances at the smiling brunette by her side, savoring how the moonlight gently envelopes her form. "Yeah, beautiful."

"Right?" Hanamaru remains oblivious of her companion's gaze as she spreads her arms. "Sometimes I still can't believe it, being here in the world of magic and being able to use magic."

"Uh-huh, I'm with you on that. Hogwarts is… amazing." Yoshiko reaches out and gingerly takes hold of Hanamaru's hands, turning the shorter girl towards her.

Hogwarts never fails to take her breath away even though she has been here half a year already. From time to time, she would find herself admiring her surroundings, whether it is the Aviary, the towers, the forest, or even her own Dormitory. The ancient and austere magical presence makes her humble, makes her feel so incredibly tiny and insignificant.

But that was the same back in the Muggle world, wasn't it? She was just one of the many faces that passed by the shops, walked down the streets, and simply trudged through each day. She was unable to accomplish anything meaningful, and that had depressed her even though she carefully buried such feeling.

And so, this is the one difference between here and the Muggle world. Here at Hogwarts, she is given the ability to make a difference in people's lives and even her own, no matter how little it seems at first.

The adrenaline from before has calmed down to something soothing, like whispers of encouragement from Lady Luck herself.

"Well then, allow me to make this special scene even more fairytale-like."

"Zura?!"

Yoshiko gallantly tugs her companion against her, slipping her arm around the latter's waist. Due to the proximity, the shorter girl could only nestle her head against the crook of Yoshiko's neck.

"Dance with me, Hanamaru."

The brunette makes an incoherent mumble, her ears reddening. Yoshiko could feel Hanamaru's heartbeat against her, so she's certain that the latter could feel hers as well. Though embarrassed, she's also elated to have finally taken this step. Furthermore, unlike her previous experiences, she has not stepped on her partner's foot, has not lost her wits from unexpected movements, and has not carelessly taken control of the dance with her own style.

No, this is a simple slide and glide dance where the pair sways along the melody. The courtyard may be silent, but Yoshiko can clearly hear the music in her pounding heart.

"Y-Yoshiko-chan, you know how to waltz zura-?"

"Heh, the great Yohane learns fast. You're not bad yourself either."

"... I-I'm just following your lead," Hanamaru mutters shyly, leaning into their semi-embrace even more. Yoshiko stiffens and inadvertently stops the dance, with both of her arms wrapped around Hanamaru's waist to steady her.

Neither move from their position, enthralled by this mysterious ambience that encompassed them.

"So, pretty good year so far I'd say. We got to come here, learn magic-"

"- and I got reunited with you, and we've gained so many good friends zura."

"Right. Fantastic banquet, isn't it?"

"It is. Everything about today is… well, it's been magical zura."

Yoshiko nervously pulls away just a little so she could look at Hanamaru. The brunette's flushed cheeks probably mirror her own, encouraging her to do what her heart yearns.

"The perfect way to end the perfect night."

She leans down and smooches Hanamaru's cheek before backing away. The warmth and softness of the brunette's skin lingers on her lips, so tantalizing that she is tempted to kiss her again.

Should she push her luck? Is this too much?

Blushing, Hanamaru appears shell-shocked, staring at Yoshiko with wide, innocent eyes. Though mortified, Yoshiko returns the gaze earnestly to show that she isn't fooling around.

Hanamaru swallows hard, glancing to the right and then to the left while her arms remain loosely wrapped around Yoshiko's waist. As if making up her mind, she places one hand on the taller girl's shoulder and tiptoes.

Their lips meet chastely, once and again.

"Merry Christmas."

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