#fic: yulmallen au drabbles

[badlydrawnyullen]

Who’s the Most Desperate in the Land?

Series Summary:  A series of drabbles where Alma lives, and Kanda, Alma, and Allen are in a happy poly relationship. Cue fluff with a smidge of angst. Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5,  Part 6

Story Summary: Kanda returns, tensions are high, and Alma and Kanda are the greatest lovers ever.

Rating: T

Warnings: language,  dissociation, panic attacks

(AO3 Version) || (FF Version)

     Sitting on the comfortable couch that was in Komui’s office, Allen felt as if he was going to be ill. Violently ill. He felt cold, slightly clammy, and he was positive that the cramping stomach and faint tremors running through his hands had nothing to do with a caught sickness. He clenched his hands as a means to deter the tremors, but frowned when they would not stop. So inwardly focused was he that he startled when he felt a warm hand encase one of his shaking ones. Adjacent to him, Alma was giving him on of their beautiful, deep smiles, the one that made him feel safe and secure.

     A pity that he had not been feeling a modicum of safety over the past month with nigh everyone looking at him like a freak and a monster. Oh yes, and he mustn’t forget scum, murderer, traitor, demon, and myriad of other choice names. While he never acted on the negativity that they all projected on him, he was not an ignorant fool.

      You may not be ignorant, but you’re still a fool, the voice in his mind commented in a tone that was a bewildering mix of condescending yet fond.

      Shut up, Allen hissed back mentally, I don’t need your opinion right now.

      He, Komui, Link, and Alma were waiting in Komui’s office for Kanda to show and give his mission report. He and Alma were sitting thigh to thigh on the couch while saving a space for Kanda to sit, Link had positioned himself at the door, and Komui was sitting at his desk, fingers steepled in front of his mouth. When the two exorcists had come to the Supervisor, explaining the need to have somewhere to hold an important discussion without roaming eyes and nosy ears, he agreed without question. He had offered his office as a place of refuge for them to wait for Kanda and to talk. To prying outsiders such as the Central guards, it would only appear as a simple mission debrief with an input of fellow exorcists.  

      Allen would have said that Komui was a godsend, but God no longer seemed to smile upon anyone in the Order. How could he, when they were sent like lambs to the slaughter every day? How could he, when the two loves of his life were created as weapons solely to be used and experimented on? How could he, when the prospect of leaving humanity behind to join his very enemies that treated him with more kindness than the majority of the Order seemed more and more appealing? Despite that, Allen was loath to admit that he still prayed every night to the God that abandoned them all like a good little Catholic boy should. Memorized passages, words of desperation, and pleas to the kingdom of saints and the Holy Virgin Mary painted his lips as often as the blood he coughed up from his injuries. They were pleas of safe passage to his friends travelling across country borders, pleas of protection to his comrades fighting nearly every day, and pleas of pathetic desperation that his loves would live to see another day, to be healthy and together and with one another. ‘Don’t separate them again. Not in yet another life,’ was his personal favorite. They could survive with one another…If something ever happened to him, they would have each other.

      Even if he did survive the absolute mess that was his life now, there was no way he was going to live past the age of thirty with his parasitic Innocence…

       Across the room, he noticed Link stiffen and lean his head closer to the door as if to better hear something. After a beat, he turned to them and said, “Kanda will be here shortly.”

      With that, the sickening unease returned to Allen, and he swallowed hard. He knew this conversation needed to happen, needed to be brought to light, but that did not mean it was going to be any easier.

      God have mercy on your souls, was Neah’s mocking chuckle.

       Without any preamble, as was his usual fashion, Kanda barged into the office with a frown on his face. To anyone other than Allen and Alma, that scowl would announce a terrible mood, but to them it was a signal of the raven-haired man’s tiredness. There was dust at the bottom of his gold-lined coat, and Allen could already see that next to him, Alma had a need to clean it. The Second liked to keep things clean (at least their clothes, anyway).

      Kanda stopped and narrowed his eyes, taking in all the people in the room. After flicking his attention to Komui and Link, he met gazes with his two lovers. A slight tilt of the head and twitch of the fingers belied his suspicion, and Alma met it with a mouthed explanation of ‘Don’t worry.’ He rested his gaze on the two of them a moment longer before turning to Komui and tossing the mission folder on the heavy oak desk.

      “…I thought this was a mission briefing,” he knit his eyebrows together. “What are Allen, Alma, and the lapdog doing here?” Even after returning to the Order together, the two men still had not rectified their differences. On any normal occasion, Allen would have chided Kanda for his sour attitude towards Link, but now was not the time.

      Komui sighed as he brushed the folder to the side of his desk, along with the mountain of other paperwork that everyone knew that he had yet to read. “I can read your report in due time. However, it seems that we have a rather urgent matter on our hands. It needs to be discussed with everyone present, though we cannot have…certain individuals overhearing.” There was no need to clarify who the people in question were. The tall scientist nodded his head in Allen’s direction, rubbing a calloused thumb over his knuckle in a worried fashion. “Allen will take it from here as he is the one who called for this meeting in the first place.”

      All eyes were on him and he forced himself to stay (somewhat) calm as he stood from his spot; it was now or never. He locked eyes, mercury to crimson, with Link across the room and received an encouraging nod in return. Clearing his throat, he began, “Thank you, Komui. I…I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, especially after we came back to the Order. This Holy War,” he could not keep the sneer out of his voice or off his face, “has been going on for far too long. Even I can tell, despite being here for almost two years. The Noah and the Earl have been getting bolder and bolder, and I hate to say this, but we have not been making the best progress.” He began to pace, trying to gather his thoughts.

      With visible reluctance, Kanda took a seat on the couch, eyes never leaving the white-haired exorcist. “We all know that, Moyashi. What’s your point?”

      A non-heated glare was sent his way. “My point, Bakanda, is…is, well—I know that none of you are going to like it. But Link has known since we’ve come back to the Order, and Alma partially found out yesterday.” Allen took a breath, trying to stave away the queasiness that was coming back with a vengeance. This is not going to end well. “I’m sorry for not telling you, but I’ve been actively communicating with the Fourteenth.”

      Their reactions were all of what he expected: Komui’s surprise was shown through his widened eyes behind his glasses and his tensed posture, while Kanda’s shock and subsequent anger were more prominent. Despite having sat for only a moment, he shot up from his seat, hands clenched and slanted eyes wide. “What the hell, Moyashi?! I fucking thought you were purposely ignoring that ass-hat.” To anyone that did not know Kanda as well as he or Alma did, the Japanese exorcist would have sounded furious; however, to Allen’s ears, his rough tone masked his deep concern and worry.

      Alma rose from their seat and stood next to Kanda, putting their hands on his shoulders. “Yuu.”

      “Allen, what have…” Komui spoke with a touch of unease underlining his voice, “what have you and the Fourteenth been discussing?”

      The drained, cursed teenager dropped his gaze to the messy, paper-covered floor. “I am tired, Komui. I am very, very tired. I’m tired of watching people die senselessly, I’m tired of having to fight for my body, and I am tired and done with running.” Frown stretching his lips, he steeled his gaze back to all of them before announcing, “I made a deal with Neah to join the third side of the war. Link and I are going to leave the Order.”

      Now, if what he had said before had caused some unrest, this statement brought forth a surging wave of chaos.

      Alma turned sharply at him, panic alight in their russet-brown eyes. “Allen, no!” Please don’t think I’m abandoning you, love.

      Komui finally stood from his seat behind his desk, walking around the piece of furniture closer to Allen. “You can’t be serious, Allen…Why? You were just reinstated!”

      “You must be out of your goddamn mind,” growled Kanda, eyes blazing. “You think we’re just going to let you walk away after all that work we did—that you did—in order to come back?!”

       It’s not like he wanted to go and leave all his precious people behind, but he had to do this. “There’s no other way,” Allen sighed as he stopped pacing. “Look, I can’t stay here, not with Neah in my body, not with the Earl getting increasingly adamant on capturing me. On top of that, I can’t in good faith work at the Order anymore, not with the knowledge of what they’ve done to all the people I care about.” Saying that, he gave pointed looks to Alma and Kanda. “Please understand,” he begged.

      “Fuck that!” Kanda slashed a hand in front of himself. “I am not letting you go, dammit! You think being here is bad? Think about what the Earl is going to do to you when you’re out there all alone. What then, Moyashi?”

      Alma reached a hand to clutch at Allen’s shirt sleeve. “You’re going to be an easier target for the Akuma and Noah, Al. Even if you came to an agreement with Neah like you said you have, it’s not going to end well at all!”

      “I won’t be able to keep Central off your tail, Allen,” Komui spoke, but what Allen heard behind the words was ‘I can’t keep you safe if you’re not here.’ Bless this man. Komui’s heart was too big for his own good: too caring, too passionate.

      Link, ever present near the door, finally offered his two cents. “Allen and I have been discussing this plan for a long while now. We’ve concluded that this is the best decision. Please respect it.”

      “No!” came the harmonious shut-down from Alma and Kanda.

      “I cannot, in good conscious, condone this, Allen,” Komui fiddled with his glasses, severe frown on his face.

      I knew this was not going to end well, but I need them to understand. I can’t keep putting them in danger. It’s my fault they keep getting hurt, shite. “I know none of you approve, but I have to do this!” He growled through gritted teeth. Tears stung his eyes, and he was quick to blink them away, trying to keep some sort of composure together. “I…” he took a shaky breath, “I just…Let me protect you, please.”

      The atmosphere in the room was tense, and Allen was sure that was not the reason he was having some trouble breathing. Alma and Kanda moved to engulf him in an embrace, but he stepped away not wanting the contact right now. The fabric of his clothing—What was I wearing again? —rubbed against his skin in a way that set his teeth on edge, despite being the clothing that was most comfortable in his very small wardrobe. He could not help but scratch his arms, the feeling of biting insects crawling underneath his skin.  There was a distinct buzzing in his ears that was beginning to drown out most of what the others were saying. Don’t leave, Allen. Stay in the moment, stay in the moment, he chanted, trying to anchor himself and not drift. Stay here, stay here, stayhere, stayherestayherestaySTAYSTAY—

      “Leaving isn’t protecting us, baka. You should—”

      “—don’t think that’s wise, since—”

      Too many words, too many voices. What were they saying? Shut up, shut up, shut up, why don’t you lot understand??! Why wouldn’t the ringing go away?

      “…not possible…the Order—”

      “Going on the run again…we’ve already—”

      You should have just left in silence, fool. This would have been much easier without anyone knowing of your departure.

      Please stop, be quiet, be quiet, bequietbequietbequietbequietBEQUIET! You don’t understand, you need me to do this. If not you’ll—

      “…Allen are you alright?”

      “Al?”

      “Moyashi…? Allen!”

      “YOU’LL ALL DIE!” The scream that ripped from his throat was shrill and near animalistic; he had trouble recognizing that was indeed his own voice. He heaved, gulping large breaths of air as he tried to calm himself down. His head felt like it was about to split, his heart raced in his chest, and he was fairly certain the human body was not supposed to shake this much. After a solid minute of silence, once he became somewhat more coherent, he realized that he had (at some point) dropped to the ground in a ball, hands clutching his white hair and tears streaming down his flushed cheeks.

      The only sound permeating the air was his unsteady breathing. Everything hurt, everything was tense, and Jesus Christ why was this happening? “Y-You’ll all die if…if I don’t leave. Central wants my head and the Earl and Noah, my blood.” He took another gulping breath. “They’ll come after you…and you’ll die.” And I’ll lose everyone I’ve ever loved for good.

      I’ll be all alone again.

       “Allen…”

      “Oh, Allen—”

      He didn’t realize how long he had been stuck in his head; however, it must have been a good few minutes as he jolted when he felt someone touch his shoulder. He raised his head to see Kanda and Alma kneeling next to him, faces morose yet loving. Kanda was careful not to jostle him as he scooped him up in his lap and pressed his head against his chest. The steady beat of his core-heart was grounding, a song that only he and one other were allowed to hear whenever they needed. “…We are not going to die, Allen,” he said in a low voice. His lover petted his white hair while Alma grabbed his shaking, mismatched hands in theirs. “Fuck the other people. Fuck Central, fuck the Ear and the Noah, and fuck everyone else. We are not going to die, do you understand?”

      Don’t make promises you can’t keep, he wanted to say aloud, yet the words died in his throat. Mana promised to stay with me, and…he died. He died and came back through a fate worse than death…left me all alone. All alone, all alone alone ALONEALONEALONE. Did he love me? Did he really love me? Do they—”

      “Allen.”

      He blinked, and it took a moment to realize that he had become lost in his mind for a bit there. He locked eyes with Alma’s worried russet-brown, then tilted his head to see Kanda’s equally concerned cobalt. As if sensing his distress, the swordsman kissed him and drew him closer. He felt Alma wrap their arms around the both of them, and Allen was comforted by their elevated body temperatures. If they had to look on the bright side, at least being a Second meant not being cold easily.

      “We love you, Al,” Alma said as they kissed the crown of his head, “and we love you enough to stay by your side. We won’t leave you, ever.”

      Kanda grunted, and Allen was familiar enough with his caveman-esque sounds to understand that one meant agreement. “Listen to the sap, Allen. If you think we’re gonna let you waltz out of here by yourself and the lapdog, then you have another thing coming.”

      Allen looked helplessly at his lovers, then to Komui and Link. He was a selfish person her hated to admit, hoarding his loved one like a dragon would their valuables. If they died…I wouldn’t know what to do. “I can’t stay,” he croaked, throat sore from the screaming and crying.

      Kanda shifted against Alma and Allen. “Well, then the answer is easy.”

      Allen felt his eyebrow crease in confusion, slight frown on his face. “How so?”

      In the agitated atmosphere, Alma’s light and warm demeanor was a balm to Allen’s unease. “If you can’t go, we’ll just have to go with you! Pretty simple, if you ask me.”

      Without meaning to do so, Allen and Komui spluttered at the same time, thrown off balance. “W-Wait, what?! No way, I can’t let you two do that!” Allen protested.

      “You can’t be serious,” Komui gaped. “I’m not comfortable with Allen leaving, but for all three of you to go, including Link? There is no possible way that Central wouldn’t be on your tails, what with that many combatants gone rogue!”

      Alma and Kanda pulled Allen to his feet, and he was thankful for their steadying hands as he was still a little disoriented. This wasn’t the first time he’s needed help after an…episode; he had long since swallowed his pride. “Fuck Central,” Kanda said in his natural brusque fashion. “Think about it. It’d actually be safer if Allen had us along with him. The CROW over there is just one person. Moyashi is gonna need more backup if things go south.”

      At his position by the door, Link practically bristled. Allen knew that Link bad kept silent for the most part out of respect for him, Alma, and Kanda. However, he also knew from personal experience that Link was very prideful in his abilities and did not take any insult against them lightly, direct or indirect. “I am more than capable of defending both Allen and myself, Kanda Yuu.” Link’s voice was leaning towards a mix of a growl and a hiss. “It would behoove you not to underestimate me.”

      Their raven-haired lover stepped towards Link, squaring his shoulders and baring gritted teeth. “You trying to start something, lapdog?”

      “I assure you, you must be deluding yourself, hot head,” Link shot back, also taking a step toward Kanda.

      Jesus Christ, Allen did not need a pissing match right now.

      Just as Allen and Alma were going to say something, Komui stepped in before things could get ugly; he startled everyone when he slapped a hand on his desk, but it did its job at getting everyone’s attention. “Link, Kanda, control yourselves.” The two men harrumphed, well chided. The Supervisor took a breath to visibly collect himself. “Now, Allen, I have to reiterate that I cannot condone you all leaving, especially after returning so soon. But…I can turn a blind eye towards it.” Komui moved to stand in front of Allen—Alma and Kanda had moved aside when they had seen the man nearing—and put his hands on his shoulders. “I’ll give you three an open-ended mission under the guise of searching for several pieces of Innocence. That will keep Central and Leverrier off your backs for some time. But, Allen…” The exorcist was surprised when Komui hugged him tightly, continuing to speak in a tone akin to a mourner’s eulogy, “I’m afraid I cannot do any more than that to help you. I’m sorry.”

      Bleeding hell, Komui is such a good person, Allen though as he gripped the back of the taller man’s white jacket just a little bit tighter. He doesn’t deserve all the shit that he’s put through in this hell hole. “Thank you, and there’s nothing to apologize for,” he said, just above a whisper. “You do more for us than anybody else.” He chose not to comment on the watery sniffle he heard from Komui.

      The scientist turned to address the exorcists and the Inspector. “I can give you all a week to get ready for your…mission. Anything more and Central will get suspicious why you are taking so long to prepare. Use your time wisely, you all.” The ‘be careful’ was left unsaid.

      “We’ll try our best, Komui,” Alma replied, smile more on the grim side, “but you know us. Can’t promise anything.”

      “I know, and that’s what worries me. Oh, and I still need that mission report, Kanda.”

      Alma laughed while Kanda huffed. “Can’t get rid of us that easily, Moyashi.”

      “It’s Allen, Bakanda.”

      Do as the scientist said, Allen. You have one week to do everything that you need to get done: say your goodbyes, tie up any lose ends and such…because once the week is up, you better not have any regrets when we leave.

      One week, one week to go.

Written: 2/3/17 ; Posted: 4/4/17

[badlydrawnyullen]

Yulmallen AU Drabble #6) Mirror, Mirror in His Hand

Series Summary:  A series of drabbles where Alma lives, and Kanda, Alma, and Allen are in a happy poly relationship. Cue fluff with a smidge of angst.  Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5

Story Summary: No matter how loved they tell Allen he is, Allen can't help but hide in secrets sometimes. Neah rears his ugly head, Alma brings food, and Link is considerate.

Rating: T

Warnings: language

(AO3 Version) || (FF Version)

     While Allen, Kanda, and Alma were attached by the hip more often than not, there were times where they had to separate to get work done. Like now, for example. Kanda was off on a mission a few towns over in order to retrieve a piece of Innocence, and Allen was off doing his own thing. He had told Alma earlier that he needed a bit of time to himself, and Alma respected that. They had assumed that Allen just needed time to breathe and such, because as much as the three of them loved each other, it was absolutely certain that they wanted to throttle each other every once in a while. Why, just yesterday, they had to get in between Allen and Kanda to prevent blood from being spilled (over blanket-hogging, of all things).

      Alma shook their head at the memory, smile quirking their lips upwards. I don’t know what I would do without those two and their spats. Then again, I’m no better. Without meaning it, they had put Allen and Kanda in the hospital with food poisoning. Twice.

      “Here you go, hun~!” Jerry’s voice broke through their thoughts. The pink-haired man handed Alma a bowl of fruit, dango and donuts, smiling at Alma.

      Alma grinned back at Jerry, taking the food. “Thank you, Jerry! I’m sure Allen will really enjoy this.”

      Before they could leave, Jerry winked at them and pointed his mixing spoon towards the bowl. “I slipped in something for you, too. Egg salad with extra mayonnaise in a little container, sweetie.”

      Oh, Jerry was so thoughtful. Alma was always so happy to come talk to Jerry, even if it was only for a few minutes. The Indian cook was one of the few people that truly cared about those who worked in the Order. “You’re the best, Jerry.”

      “No problem. Now go see your little lover boy.”

      And with that Alma made their way over to Allen’s room. They weren’t quite sure what Allen was up to, but they were positive he would appreciate the food. Allen never denied food. As they slipped into the hall that led to Allen’s room, they saw Link standing outside Allen’s door, leaning against the wall. I thought Link was supposed to stay with Allen all the time. And why does he have that expression on his face? Link had his arms crossed, and head tilted towards the floor. Even at that angle, Alma could see the tenseness around his flared, blonde eyebrows; the tightening around his crimson eyes; and the muscle working in his jaw. The weight weighing down his shoulders was visible even from where Alma stood.

      They took a few steps closer until they neared Link. The inspector did not seem to notice the Second, which was highly unlike him. Alma knew that Link prided himself in his sharp situational awareness. To see the blonde so distracted was worrying.

      “Link?” they called. The man still had not taken notice of Alma, so they repeated a little louder. “Link!”

      The Inspector snapped his head toward Alma’s voice, body jerking to stiff attention. “A-Alma Karma. I assumed you would be with Jerry for a few more hours.”

       “Just Alma, Link,” they said on reflex. “And, I was with Jerry, but only to grab some food for Allen and I. I thought he would appreciate the snacks while he’s doing whatever he’s doing.” The partially opened door leaked out Allen’s voice, and if Alma wasn’t mistaken, it sounded like he was talking to someone. They could not quite make out what he was saying, but the tone was cutting and terse. Who is he talking to? There weren’t many people that Allen let in his room; Link and Alma were out here, Kanda and Lenalee were on their own missions, and Lavi was in the library. If it was not one of them, then who…? Link’s uncomfortable expression and Allen’s sharp-as-glass tone did not make Alma feel at ease. “What…What is he doing, Link?”

      Link shot a loaded look at the door, then back to Alma.“He and the Fourteenth have been communicating for several hours now.”

      A cold feeling gushed through their veins. He’s doing what? Ever since they came back to the Order, Allen tried his hardest not to be in contact with Neah if possible. Did he contact Neah, or did Neah contact him? Is Neah toying with him again???

      Their shock and worry must have physically bled into their face because Link went on to explain, “Allen told me to keep you away as he did not want you to be concerned; however,” crimson eyes flickered to the door warily then back to them. “I can’t keep you away if I never saw you. I can only offer you ten minutes, otherwise one of the other guards might notice me away from my post.” Ever since their return to the Order—Link, Allen, Kanda, Johnny, and Alma—Leverrier was especially prudent on keeping an eye on them. Guards from Central roamed the castle freely, keen eyes tracking their every move. “Use your time wisely.” Saying that, Link was quick to walk away and turn the corner, leaving Alma in front of the door. To say that Link was an uptight person was an understatement, but Alma did appreciate the moment of privacy that he offered them.

      Hovering next to the door, palm pressed against the wood, Alma felt like they were being nosy. Listening into a conversation, although it sounded like a one-way conversation to their ears, felt wrong…felt like they were breaking Allen’s trust. Allen was a very private person, even to his lovers sometimes. This snooping put Alma ill at ease, but dammit to hell Allen was Alma’s lover, and that meant they would care for Allen—even if that meant eavesdropping from time to time.

      Alma glanced through the crack of the door and could see Allen sitting on the edge of his bed, glaring at a small hand mirror in his hand. Luckily from this angle they could see the reflection in the mirror, and was confused to see just Allen’s porcelain face. Why would he be glaring at himself? As they tilted their ear closer to the door to pick up Allen’s hushed voice, they could finally make out the conversation. “—don’t care how much you hate humans, you are not killing anyone at this Order.”

      A pause. “I agree. Humans are the cause of so much pain and destruction, but that doesn’t mean that you can go and hurt people just because you feel like it.” Another pause, which was followed by a derisive snort. “Even that bastard from Central, yes.”

      “I know we have to leave soon…” He trailed off, looking at his hand. “But that does not mean I am happy about it, you know.”

      ‘Leave soon?’ Where is he going? Alma felt a cold gush of panic race through them. Is he leaving us???

      Allen looked back into the mirror. “We are not doing this again, Neah. We came to an agreement before we got here that this is my body, not yours. I’m not a puppet for your use.”

      They counted a full two minutes pass by before they saw Allen shift and full-out scowl at the mirror. “Listen here, you piece of shite,” his voice turned low with warning and anger, startling Alma. It was rare that they had ever heard Allen like this: so dangerous, so venomous like a cornered, hurt snake. “You will not lay a finger on either of them, no matter what they have to do with this convoluted plan of yours. You will do them no harm, or so help me I will not give you the chance to even see the Earl again, let alone fight him…Do I make myself clear, Neah?”

      There was another pause, and Alma assumed that Neah must have said something unpleasant because Allen’s eyes widened and he stood up then cocked back his arm holding the mirror. Before they knew what they were doing, Alma burst into the room just as Allen was about to throw the mirror. “Stop!”

      Allen froze, head swiveling and gaze landing on Alma. “A-Alma! What are you doing here?”

      There was a tangible energy charging the air, but Alma was certain that wasn’t the cause for the hair on their arms standing on end. They slowly raised the arm that was holding the food. “I…I came to check on you, to bring you snacks. Thought you would have appreciated the break to whatever you were doing…” Their words died at their end of their sentence as they took in their lover: wide mercury eyes that were red at the corners, body still in the position to throw the mirror, paler than normal skin, and almost invisible tremors running through his muscles. What was he discussing that made him like this? “I should be asking you what you’re doing, Al.”

      The white-haired male still stood frozen, mouth opening and closing as he attempted to figure out what to say. Finally, he just let out a long sigh and shifted his body, lowering his arm and dropping the mirror on the bed. “I…I didn’t want you to see that.” He sounded utterly drained, and there was a note of shame lacing his voice.

      “How long have you been talking to Neah?”

      There were a few stretched moments before the reluctant answer came. “…Ever since we returned to the Order.”

      Alma let out a sharp breath, “Allen.”

      “I know I said I wouldn’t talk to him,” he frowned, looking away, “but….” Allen sighed, crossing his arms and still not looking at Alma. “I didn’t want you to see me acting all crazy, talking to a mirror like that.” His voice wavered at the end, and Alma tried to ignore how bitter he sounded. (1)

      “You’re not crazy.”

      “I have a voice in my head. How is that not crazy?”

      “Allen,” Alma took a set the food on the bed and took a step towards Allen. They rested their hand on his shoulder and turned him around to face them. They used their other hand to put against Allen’s pale cheek, and he tilted his cold cheek in the warmth of their hand. They swiped their thumb under his red-rimmed eye and tried not to take notice of how starkly pale Allen’s skin was against their darker tone. “You are anything but crazy. You’re not hearing made up voices—there’s actually someone with you. And even if you were, who am I to judge, huh?” They tried for a reassuring smile.

      Sliver eyelashes fluttered closed as Allen leaned his forehead against theirs. “…You don’t think I’m crazy?” he asked tentatively.

      “I don’t think you’re crazy,” Alma confirmed as they kissed him. “But I do think you’re not telling me something.”

      Mercury eyes reopened. “How much did you hear???” He tried to wriggle out of Alma’s arms, but they would not let him.

      Alma pressed Allen tight against theirself in an embrace. “Are you leaving us, Al?” Now that Allen was a constant in their life, they could not fathom a universe where he was not beside them and Yuu. They subconsciously gripped Allen tighter, not wanting to lose him.

      “…I made a deal.” ‘With the devil’ was left unsaid. “There’s…we have a plan to—”

      It was then that Link poked his head through the door, stern eyes landing on the two of them. “Ten minutes are up,” he interrupted. “A guard was giving me odd looks on the way back, so I suggest you return to Jerry, Alma Karma.” His eyes softened a little. “I’m sorry I could not afford the two of you more time.”

      They knew it wasn’t Link’s fault, but Alma wished they could just stay here with Allen…and find out what he was going to say. With the utmost reluctance, Alma loosened their arms around their lover and took a step towards the door. A thrill of worry was rattling through their bones. I thought we were done with secrets. “You know we still have to talk about his, right, Allen?”

      There was a pregnant pause before Allen said, “I know, love. I’ll tell you and Kanda when he gets back from his mission.” And there was that smile that Alma hated, the fake one dripping with heartache that Allen liked to plaster on his face to reassure others. “There’s…there’s a lot I need to talk about.”

      Alma couldn’t think of anything to say, but instead nodded and offered a loving smile. Before they left the room, they turned their head over their shoulder. “Allen, I’m not quite sure what’s going on in that head of yours, but don’t forget that we love you, alright?”

      “I love you, too.”

      It was going to be a long night waiting for Yuu to come back tomorrow. Alma could tell they weren’t going to get much sleep tonight.

______________________________________________________________

Written: 12/2/16; Posted: 4/3/17

(1) Allen has always been pretty insecure when it comes to be abnormal. He tries his hardest to appear normal and just like everyone else, but we all know that can’t really happen; not with his luck.

[badlydrawnyullen]

Yulmallen AU Drabbles #5) Food Poisoning and Laughter

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: D.Gray-man Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Kanda Yuu/Allen Walker, Alma Karma/Kanda Yuu, Kanda Yuu/Alma Karma/Allen Walker, Alma Karma/Allen Walker Characters: Alma Karma, Kanda Yuu, Allen Walker, Head Nurse (D.Gray-man) Additional Tags: Alma lives, Fluff and Crack, (just a little bit of crack), Polyamory, Fluff, Yulmallen AU, Yulmallen, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Canon-Typical Violence, Language, Food, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Alma Karma, Kanda Smiles, Rest in Pieces, Alma is Savage, like no filter and no holding back omfg, temporarily sick character Series: Part 5 of Yulmallen AU Drabbles Summary: Drabble #5) Laughter makes breathing easier, and Allen and Kanda suffer from food poisoning (again).

Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3 , Part 4

(FF. Net Link)

[badlydrawnyullen]

Yulmallen AU Drabble #4) IED in the Room

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: D.Gray-man Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Alma Karma/Kanda Yuu/Allen Walker, Alma Karma/Kanda Yuu, Alma Karma/Allen Walker, Kanda Yuu/Allen Walker Characters: Alma Karma, Kanda Yuu, Allen Walker Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alma lives, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Alma Karma, Polyamory, Mental Health Issues, IED, Intermittent Explosive Disorder, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Hatred, Anger, Alma Needs a Hug, Behavioral Health Issues, Hugs Series: Part 4 of Yulmallen AU Drabbles Summary:

Drabble #4) Alma's hatred is incredibly potent and destructive, and there are times where they have trouble controlling their anger.

Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3

(FF. Net Link)

[badlydrawnyullen]

Yulmallen AU Drabble #3) Floating Time

Series Summary:  A series of drabbles where Alma lives, and Kanda, Alma, and Allen are in a happy poly relationship. Cue fluff with a smidge of angst. (Part 1) | (Part 2)

Story Summary:  Allen has trouble staying sound of mind. He stumbles, sometimes.

Rating: T

Warning: dissociation, mental instability.

(AO3 Version) || (FF Version)

     For a supposed “Destroyer of Time”, Allen found that there were too many occasions where he would lose a marginal chunk of time that he could not recall. Ranging from a small number of seconds eaten away by a fleeting daydream to hours ravenously devoured by memories that were his, yet not his. There were too many occasions where he floated in the dark and soft—thick, suffocating, smothering—morass of his mind, drifting between his own current time and the times of…the others. Oddly enough, it was because of these stolen moments that made him even more thankful for when he was in his own time, still had his sound mind. Thankful, he scoffed to himself, more like desperate. Desperate like a beggar pleading for his one scrap of food to survive the day.

      He had a migraine flaring the pain receptors in his brain like the roaring flames of Lavi’s Fire Stamp ever since he had woken up. The blazing ache had awoken him hours before Alma and Kanda—the three of them had decided to share a bed once again that night, this time in Kanda’s room (whose room was this again?)—which had given him some time to peel away from his lovers, strip the pillowcase away from his pillow, and chuck the nosebleed-soiled fabric in the trash. He had cleaned his nose and returned to bed, knowing very well that he would not be able to go back to sleep.

      Returning to bed, he was pulled closer to the warm bodies, and he breathed in the familiar (but why are they strange ta me?) scents of green tea and cinnamon (where ‘ave I eva’ smelled these things befo’?). He tried his best to ignore the headache that was pounding against his skull as he buried his face deeper into his pillow and closed his eyes. Although he was clutching his pillow tighter and tighter as a way to distract himself from his migraine, the feeling of the soft cotton fabric seemed to be lost against his fingertips. (I don’t rememba’ sleepin’ on anythin’ this nice…) A familiar feeling engulfed his mind; however, it was not the gentle lull of oncoming sleep’s caress, but instead something more suffocating and startling.

      It was familiar but unwelcomed.

      His eyes shot open as darkness began to encroach and swallow the corners of his vision. No, no, no, no! I can’t be having another episode! The other two are gonna wake up! The tightening of his chest could have been due to panic, but it also could have been the fact that he was forgetting to breath properly. I can’t make any noise else Cosimo ‘ll come in ‘ere ‘n throttle me! Before the inky haze enveloped his vision, his last thought was, Tha’ damn bastard betta not touch Mana—

      Time was such an odd concept when one’s time was never always their own.

     —The darkness that clouded his vision diluted into clarity like ink lightened by water. He felt as if he was floating like a piece of driftwood lost at sea. The sharp ringing that sounded in his ears soon began to fade away, and he was able to hear two people’s voices. Why do they soun’ so worried?  

      “Allen! Allen, please, come back to us!”

      “You’re safe Moyashi! It’s alright.”

      Who the bloody hell is ‘Allen’?

      He had to blink his eyes several times before his vision stopped doubling. He looked around his surroundings, taking in the toppled end table, the ripped sheets, the shattered mirror, and the papers strewn all over the place. How di’ this ‘appen…? Somehow he had gone from lying in bed to standing in this mess of a room, and God why was he hurting so much? A throbbing ache that radiated from the knuckles of his right hand made him look down, only to see dark red blood dripping down the pale skin of his fingers. A slight draft in the room ghosted over the wetness, making him more accurately aware of his dripping right hand and the bleeding of his nose. …Why am I bleedin’ so much?  He slowly maneuvered his gaze from his right hand to his black left, confused as to why his left hand was equipped with what looked to be a deadly set of talons.

      He did not know whose blood stained those sharp talons…

      Wha’ is goin’ on…? Where am I?

      With more energy and effort that it should have, he turned his head to look at the two other people in the room. The taller one with the long raven hair was standing in an abrupt stance, a long sword (that’s Mugen; Mugen is one of the most important things in his life other than us.) in hand pointed at him. Cobalt eyes stayed trained on him, pinched with worry and…was that a little bit a fear that he saw gleam in those eyes? Why are ya scared? Are ya scared o’ me? The other person with the fluffy chestnut hair had that same worry and slight fear radiating from them, except this person wore it visibly on their face. Tears glistened in their warm, deep brown eyes, looking as if they were torn between two hard decisions. Their arm, which was transformed into something akin to a blade (they didn’t want that Innocence, but they had to make do with it. Forced to bond with it in that awful lab.) was also trained on him.

      For some reason unbeknownst to him, he hated those expressions on these two people’s faces. Did he know them? If so, was that the reason why his heart clenched every time he looked at their pained faces?

      He took a careful breath, trying to orient himself. “Who..are ya’? Where ‘m I?” Were his hands always shaking, or did they just start now?

      The two people in front of him exchanged a look, then turned back at him. While their weapons were still pointed at him, they looked more on guard then ready to attack? Did I ‘urt you? “We’re Alma Karma and Yuu Kanda,” the person with the chestnut hair announced, slowly lowering their transformed arm and taking a step forward. “Before we answer your last question, I have to know…What is the last thing you remember?

       What was the last thing he remembered? “I…I ‘memba’ sleeping on a soft bed—no, no! Scratchy bed, with Mana?” He shook his head, clutching his tangled hair, not caring about the dizziness that came with the movement. “No! No, that’s not right either. Two people? Yea’, I was sleepin’ next to two people…Cinnamon an’ green tea…”

      The raven haired person sheathed the sword and walked closer to him. Hands were placed on his shoulders as desperate cobalt met confused and tired mercury. “That was us, me and Alma. You sleep with us.” The person lowered their hands to tear a strip of cloth from the bottom of their shirt and use it to dab at the blood that was still leaking from his nose. He was pulled into an embrace, and he felt the second person wrap their arms around him from behind.

      “You’re in the Black Order, with us, in Kanda’s room. It’s early Sunday morning, but that sun hasn’t risen yet,” he heard as he felt mumbling against his shoulder. “You’re with us; you’re safe. You’re okay.”

      Memories flitted in rapid succession through his mind—“My name is Allen Walker, and I am apprenticed to General Cross Marian,” he said as he introduced himself to the people of the Order.”—He was doubled over, laughing at Lavi and his ridiculous attempts of vampire-be-gone. “I’m not the one who’s gonna be bit when we find this guy!”—He yelled in both physical pain and the pain of betrayal as Crown Clown’s blade burned through his very being, lighting his nerves on fire right down to his core.—“Thank you, Allen Walker.” He needed them to be safe, needed them to stay away from the manipulating hands of both the Order and the Earl. “Arda!”— He trusted Alma and Kanda to take him down if he ever hurt anyone again…He couldn’t let his slip that hurt Johnny happen to anyone else. He had to stay strong, keep fighting and resisting from being consumed in Neah’s memories. —“We love you, the both of us. Don’t forget that.” —“I’m Allen Walker, and I’m never going to stop walking.”

      He sucked in a gasping breath as the memories crashed over him like a tsunami, drowning and overwhelming him. Crown Clown deactivated. He shook, and he would have fallen to his knees of not for his two lovers easing all of them to the ground. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he breathed out as he desperately grasped at the two of them. His eyes were stinging. Words spilled from his mouth nonstop, gushing like a raging river, “I forgot you two—I didn’t remember—I must have wrecked the room—Did I hurt you?—I’m sorry, I probably did, I didn’t mean—”

      Alma was quick to shush him, swiping their thumbs under his eyes to brush away the tears. “Hey, hey, there’s nothing to be sorry about, Al,” they smiled as they shifted their hands to cradle his clammy face. “It’s not your fault that you lose yourself sometimes. Not your fault at all.”

      He sniffled, but then grimaced as he got a clotty and sticky mouthful of blood. He nodded his head to show Alma he was indeed listening and hadn’t drifted again, but internally he was disagreeing. He was responsible for his own actions, so of course it had to be his fault. I’m unstable and dangerous...I wish they would understand this. I couldn’t bear the thought if something happened to them because of me.

      A touch to his forehead made him flinch and focus back on the present. Kanda pressed his forehead against his, drawing his gaze to his own. “I can hear you thinking, Moyashi, and I know it’s nothing good.” He pressed a tender kiss to his lips, and Allen could practically breathe in the compassion, love, and worry. “Stop being an idiot.” Kanda may not have been a man of many words, but his actions spoke for him.

      “’M not an idiot, Bakanda,” he murmured, leaning more and more against his lovers. Christ, he hated the aftermath of his episodes: they always left him so drained.

      Alma laughed, the rumble of it reverberating through their chest into Allen. “As crass as Yuu is, he has a point, Allen. The items in the room are just material things that can be replaced. And you couldn’t hurt us! One little scratch won’t do anything to us, so don’t worry.”

      Perhaps it was the lack of energy and partial lack of focus, but he couldn’t bring himself to object as he wanted. Instead, he focused on grounding himself to the present, the now, to his own time. This moment, sitting here on the floor of the trashed room with Kanda and Alma, was his time—not the others’, his. The elevated temperatures of his lovers began to melt away the clammy chill that claimed his body, and he clung to their hands with his own. Breathing in cinnamon and green tea, he nuzzled his face into Kanda’s neck as he was lifted off the ground. Soon the feeling off frayed sheets replaced that of skin and night clothes, and he could feel himself drifting off. “Love you two,” he said through sleep-heavy lips.

      “We love you too, Allen.”

      “Don’t you ever think differently, Moyashi.”

      Alma’s arm draped over his and Kanda’s waists, and Kanda rested his arm over his shoulders and Alma’s arm. With Alma to his right and Kanda to his left, he was sandwiched in the middle. However, he couldn’t bring himself to care. This was his time. This was his.

      Cinnamon and green tea.

Published: 9/9/16 (uploaded 9/30/16)