#he shows her how to make mud bodies and she releases him into the wild its hilarious

[evillious-trash]

Nemesis going full mad scientist mode and trying to figure out how to resurrect people (read: Nyoze) my beloved au.

[wildlyglittering]

Good at Starting Fires

I really hated the overly sexualised way that Cassian looked at Nesta in ACOSAF and ACOSF when he commented on her drastic weight loss. Instead of being concerned that she was losing weight at a drastic pace he was more 'boobs man, great they're still there' and it wound me up no end.

I was sent a prompt by an anon that said 'angsty Nessian set in the Illyrian camp where Cassian sees Nesta in her underwear for the first time' and I found that I wanted to try and right that 'wrong' in relation to the above. Probably not quite what the requestor had in mind but hey ho.

Some mention of weight loss and concerns surrounding it.

***

The rain lashed onto Cassian’s exposed skin.

The deluge hadn’t turned into a full storm quite yet but still, this was the worst weather he had seen in a long while, the wind barrelling into him warranting his full concentration in order to continue to fly upright.

Cassian would have chanced some different manoeuvres to make flight easier but he wasn’t flying alone.

The female in his arms had said nothing to him since they left the ground, perhaps planning to ignore him for the remainder of their eternal lives. Cassian would usually provoke her into retaliating against some jibe but tonight, with thick darkness surrounding them and the harsh pelt of the cold rain against their skin, goading wasn’t suitable.

Instead, Cassian flew through the onslaught, clutching onto a shivering Nesta.

They’d exited the river house in silence. Cassian thought she would fight the decision, fight Feyre, fight him, but she hadn’t. Her lips pursed together with her spine rigid and shoulders defiant; a stubborn refusal to give any indication of defeat.

Nesta hadn’t looked at any of them, or spoken either, instead turning with clenched fists to walk out the door she’d walked in from.

“Bye then,” taunted Rhys from his place by the fireplace.

A sharp rebuke came from Feyre while Cassian rubbed his hands over his face before glaring at his High Lord. His next action was to move fast to follow Nesta.

Feyre had been on his heels but if Nesta wanted nothing to do with him she wanted less to do with her sister. Cassian reached her first and Nesta stared at him with cold eyes. “We go now,” she demanded through gritted teeth.

“Nesta!” Feyre called out from behind, half running towards them.

“Now,” she demanded again her voice thick and trembling.

For a moment it seemed like Feyre was going to shift into her wings and fly after them but maybe there was something in his expression, or Nesta’s, which stopped her.

Nesta had clung to his neck the way a child clung to their mother but he got the impression she really wanted to use her hands on his throat in a different way. The rain followed them from Velaris to the mountains; Nesta spending the entire flight with her face buried into his shoulder.

Cassian would pretend along with her that it was only raindrops falling onto her cheeks.

If the betrayal had cut her, she’d resolutely decided to not let the wound show. She’d been cornered like a wild creature by one sister and the other, the one Nesta adored with the fullness of her heart, hadn’t shown to say anything at all.

When they arrived at the cabin it was Cassian’s pity for her which made him absorb the spite spilling from her lips. The force of his landing caused mud to splash up their legs and Nesta pulled away from him the second her feet hit the dirt.

Despite the rain and with dripping hair and sodden clothes she was beautiful. The words from her mouth, decidedly not so.

“Pathetic,” she hissed at him over the roar of the thundering rain and he somehow understood her meaning underneath – how Cassian was a grovelling sycophant to his High Lord who would never place a wing out of line and never fight back.

Nesta spoke with fists clenched at her sides. Cassian wondered if there was a part of her that wanted to strike him and he wondered if there was a part of him that would let her. She turned away, her back as rigid as before, every bump of bone showing through the fabric.

Cassian frowned. The dress was drenched, clinging to her flesh in a way it hadn’t when dry, illuminating what the material would otherwise hide.

He shouldn’t have been able to see the sharpness of her spine.

“Do we have a place to go or are you reducing me to sleeping in the mud?”

Those words were small, sharp cuts which stung though Nesta had no knowledge of how Cassian’s nights as a youth were spent doing just that, with the smell of putrefying leaves on his skin and clumps of dirt under his nails.

“Well?” she snapped, turning her head to glare at him from the corner of her eye. This was a glance which said he was beneath her, that she didn’t need to turn to address him, that the sight of him offended her glorious eyes.

What Cassian saw painted a different picture; tinged pink eyes, and a red nose. The skin around her eyelids swollen.

He let the stings dissipate. Nesta had been thrown from one world into another and from that one into something new. He would hold his tongue.

“This way, sweetheart.” Well, to an extent.

They trudged across the mud, Cassian’s feet sinking into the earth as he overtook Nesta to show her the way and he didn’t bother glancing behind him to see if she followed. She had no choice, there was nowhere else for her to go.

Rain had seeped into Cassian’s clothes, his skin damp and his wet hair dripped water down the back of the neck. He was feeling wet and miserable and wondered how worse this was for Nesta in her heavy woollen dress.

His siphons emitted a soft red glow and that was all there was; them, the rain and the glow in the darkness. Not even the moon greeted them.

***

The cabin was a welcome sight.

Their belongings were there, mostly Cassian’s with some provisions Feyre had arranged for Nesta. The door creaked on the hinges as Cassian stepped into familiar, if slightly musty, surroundings.

A perfume of earth and open skies lay underneath the dust and he inhaled the scent through his nose and into his lungs. He hadn’t been here in so long with wars and commitments keeping him far away; but if Velaris was his home, this place was his sanctuary.

There was a shuffling behind him and for a moment, lost in euphoria, Cassian forgot he wasn’t alone.

Nesta stood in the entrance, surveying her new domain. Her wet hair had unravelled from her coronet braid and tendrils clung onto the side of her face. A fat raindrop travelled from her temple past her cheek and hung from her jaw before finally dripping onto her collar.

Cassian frowned again.

Nesta’s dress buttons had popped open in the flight and he saw her neck and collar bone, a strange sharpness protruding from the stark white of her skin. Shadows, he told himself, from the candle that had flamed into life. They cast shapes and make everything harsh.

Nesta’s fists were now balled into her gown as a puddle grew around her. If she noticed Cassian’s gaze she never let on and continued to sweep her eyes around the room with a bored detachment.

“This is it,” she said, “my prison for the indefinite future.” Her lips curled into a sneer. “If Feyre was going to keep me caged she should have at least made a gilded one.”

Yes, he wanted to say, because your residence was so lavish.

“Move,” but Nesta didn’t wait for Cassian to step aside before pushing past him, head high and eyes forward. She stopped in the living room, her head turning left to right as she took in more of her surroundings. Her face gave nothing away as she scrutinised the spacious open living space which branched into the enclosed kitchen.

Cassian shook his head and ground his teeth as he closed the door behind her, the wind bringing sheets of rain into the cabin. A trail of water led across the floor to where Nesta stood.

The middle of the cabin was lighter, framed by the multiple fae lights and candles, and Cassian saw so much more. Nesta’s skin was white all over but her pale hands had red, cracked knuckles and dark circles like old bruises hung underneath her eyes. A shudder rippled through her.

Rain smashed against the window panes and Cassian looked to the vast inglenook fireplace which took over one full side of the cabin.

The hearth was filled with grey ash and lumps of half burnt wood and the basket aside the fireplace held strips for kindling. There were no pieces sizable enough to get a full fire going and getting a fire burning was exactly what they needed.

“Upstairs and to the left,” he said and Nesta turned to him. “That’s where your room will be. Mine’s next to it, same side. Both will warm up quick when the fire’s lit as the floorboards heat too.” Cassian jerked his head to the stairs, “Go and get changed, I’ll grab wood for the fire.”

Her face, one of permanent indifference and as smooth as porcelain, changed. The expression lasted only seconds before Nesta schooled it into something passing for neutral.

“Fine, I shouldn’t have expected you to be prepared.”

She stormed past him, leaving enough space so not a single part of them touched, not her dress brushing against his leathers – nothing.

Cassian waited until she’d gone before releasing a sigh. He hadn’t imagined what he saw; her eyes wide in alarm, flickering to the fireplace and back, a jerk of her body like someone had slapped her with the palm of their hand.

He’d best watch for that again.

***

A sandstone path ran down the left side of the cabin which wound around a small vegetable patch, a smaller pool and down into the sloped garden. At the very bottom was an alcove of trees and the shed containing Cassian’s axe, a chopping block and, if he was lucky, some pre-cut pieces.

Through the haze of rain, the distant lights of a camp flickered beyond. Cassian was fortunate to have this place for himself, not that he didn’t reside in the centre of camp on occasion to make his presence known, but this was his slice of comfort in the otherwise endless trudge.

Now, this place was also hers, for however long deemed necessary.

The rain bounced off the paving slabs as he approached his destination. The shed was old but well-kept and thankfully, stocked with thick slabs of timber.

“Thank you, old friend,” he said with a hand to one of the trees. They were fast growing and long burning, a house warming gift from Rhys half a century prior.

Cassian gathered what he needed and turned back, the cabin an angular silhouette outlined upon the backdrop of the night sky, the mountains looming some distance away. The candles and fae lights had lit the building up from within and shone through the dark at every window.

He was halfway up the path when he noticed how bright they lit Nesta’s new room.

Cassian had never been concerned with decoration, shoving a blanket onto a bed and gossamer curtains onto the window had been enough, but now he realised how thin those curtains were, how visible the room was from the outside.

Nesta wouldn’t be able to see him, not with his leathers black against the night, but he saw everything as though she stood before him in the flesh.

She’d untied the laces that bound the stays of her dress and Cassian imagined the wet thud as it fell to the floor.

He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t wanted Nesta in front of him, unrobing for him, those long, graceful fingers sliding up her collarbone and dipping down towards the ribbons of her bodice. In his dreams he would help her, his thick fingers weaving into hers, pulling at the material until it gave way to pools of silk and satin on the ground.

Imagination gave him options.

Maybe she would have been naked, with expanses of creamy skin readily available for his viewing or maybe there would have been a delicate piece of chiffon covering her like there was now, something flimsy for him to move aside.

He would have started by kneeling. His fingertips would trace the skin of her ankles before moving upwards to her calves, her knees and to her thighs which he would have kissed until she was breathless. Finally, he would have travelled upwards with his mouth, towards the apex.

This was his fantasy. Smoothing his palms over her curves, travelling up the cord of her spine, his tongue sliding over her skin, teasing with his teeth and all the while her breath would turn into pants, his name a prayer in her mouth.

This was a dream. Nothing more.

He stood alone in the dark, pounding heartbeat thundering in his ears and pouring rain saturating his hair as he spied on a female he now never hoped to hold.

By the Mother though, her body was far from what his mind had conjured and his heartbeat turned into a pain sinking between his ribs.

He’d thought he’d seen glimpses but here was the truth.

Her collarbone jutted out severely while her breasts and curves of her buttocks shrunk as her starved body ate away at whatever flesh it found. Nesta’s ribs - Cauldron her ribs – Cassian was able to count every one, the indents of her bone visible as though her skin was the thinnest paper. When she turned, he saw the same with the column of her spine.

He swallowed the lump in his throat down, a sting in his eyes that was nothing to do with the chilled wind.

***

Inside the cabin, Cassian dried out the wood and lit the fire, the red and orange flames dancing in the hearth.

Nesta might not eat but he would try and convince her, starting with something simple and small which would fill her but not make her sick. Shoving a plate of meat in front of her face was a bad idea so he decided on a light broth consisting of flavoured water and leafy vegetables and herbs grown from his garden.

Cassian was surprised she came when he called her down but was pleased when she did. Nesta stepped along the floor with bare feet, a new gown just as thick as the last covering the bones of her body.

She stayed close to the wall when she passed through the living space, the fire cracking and snapping opposite and she eyed the flames as though they would reach across the room and snatch her.

Cassian wasn’t sure where this fear had come from, tried to dredge any memory of where they’d faced fire and came up wanting. He’d ask her – not now – but when they’d reached a point of peace.

Still, she walked toward him, her throat moving as she swallowed fast.

“I’ve made us dinner,” and he gestured to the two watery bowls in front of him. Opposite each other. Face to face. Her eyes narrowed but she sat, suspicion on her face.

“What is this slop?”

He took a deep breath. Imagined her words as darts and his skin as impenetrable armour.

“An Illyrian broth; vegetables, herbs, some spices and the thinnest slices of poultry you’ll ever find.”

“It looks revolting.”

A muscle twitched in Cassian’s jaw. The dish was plain, colourless and watery but was filled with flavour and had what Nesta needed nutritionally.

He would refrain from telling her this was the staple of Illyrian’s recovering from sickness or injury, that he’d spooned this liquid into the dribbling mouths of multitudes of his brethren over the years and how he wasn’t above doing the same to her.

“Try it,” was all he said. “You might like it.”

“Doubtful.”

But she picked up the spoon, a tremor in her hand. Fear, withdrawal, or exhaustion he didn’t know. Maybe all three. Maybe rage.

Nesta bent her head forward, bringing the spoon to her lips and as she did, her dress, far too large for her frame gaped at the collar once again showing Cassian the sharpness of the bone under her skin.

Something sat heavy in his stomach, something like guilt and shame. He’d once thought of her as sharp tongued and soft curves, his mouth watering at the promise of the swell of her breasts and the shape of her backside.

His thoughts had been occupied with images of grabbing her with his hands, fingers digging into the folds of her flesh while they pounded the force of their desires onto each other. Nesta was no less beautiful now but when he thought of her body, thought of what he knew, he considered differently as to what his body would do with hers.

His fingers would likely bruise her, leaving crescent moons into her skin and the bones of her spine would be obvious to his gaze. Now, he wanted to use his build to hover over her, to envelop her with his wings and cradle the back of her skull with the palm of one hand and cup her cheek with the other.

Cassian needed to make this situation right but he didn’t know where to start other than this meagre offering of broth.

Nesta ate two spoons, possibly three, but at least she ate, her eyes fluttering closed as she savoured her meal, the shadows of her eyelashes playing on her cheekbones. He smiled at her enjoyment, however brief, feeling his heart soar.

Nesta opened her eyes and looked straight at him. Cassian dropped his smile and her eyes narrowed.

I’m happy you like the broth, he wanted to say, however little you take. I’m happy you tried. I think you’re dying. I don’t want you to die. I want you to want to live.

A log fell in the hearth and banged against the grate, popping into the air and Nesta flinched, her eyes snapping towards the sound.

The flames seemed to hypnotise her as they whirled among the wood, consuming what they needed in order to grow. Wherever she was in that moment she wasn’t in the room with him.  

The moment passed and Nesta snapped her head back to Cassian, slamming the spoon into the bowl.

“I’m not here for your entertainment.”

“I know that.”

“Then stop staring at me like I’m a festival showpiece.”

Cassian frowned, “I wasn’t staring.”

“Tell your gawping eyes that.”

The muscle in his jaw twitched again. He was exhausted, not only from the long day but from arguing with Rhys about the plan, and from convincing Feyre that he and Nesta would be fine. His blood, already on the rise, had gained extra heat when Amren made her parting comment to him and all this was before he began flying.

“I wasn’t staring,” he repeated, “believe me when I say there’s nothing worth looking at.”

His temper was still hot, irritation singing a song in his veins and this was default for him, the well-travelled road to flinging insults.

It was a road Nesta travelled herself.

“Well, believe me when I say that even if I’m nothing I’m still worth twice of you, bastard.”

“You’ve been exiled to the camps so that’s not what your sister thinks. Either of them.” He gestured around with his hand, “Do you see Elain begging to be let in the door?”

Nesta’s nostrils flared, her hands now clenched into two fists, those red cracked knuckles on display.

“Well, this shows what your ‘friends’ think of you, if I’m worth little to nothing in their eyes and they have you taking care of me?”

“You should be thankful, sweetheart. No one else volunteered to listen to your temper tantrums.”

“Let me ease your burden then.” She stood, jolting the table and the bowl moved, spilling liquid over the side. “I would hate to bore you with one of my childish tantrums.”

“By all means, take yourself off to bed. You’re obviously in need of a nap.”

Nesta bared her teeth at him and Cassian schooled his face into one of boredom. She turned, her gown brushing against the furniture and as she passed through the living room, she grabbed a thick blanket draped across one of the chairs.

There was a change to her face as she went, fleeting but not fleeting enough for his sharp eyes. Regret? Yes. What she regretted he didn’t know but the snarl had also turned into a smirk, a twist of her mouth which screamed, I am victorious.

What had she won? The prize was a night alone in an unlit room with a blanket and empty belly.

As she left, the bored expression slid from Cassian’s face to be replaced by a furrowed brow.

Nesta was playing a game, one which required her to start fights so she could flaunt from the room as though leaving were her choice. He’d seen her grip, the furrow of her own forehead and the stark whites of her eyes.

She didn’t like the fire and she didn’t want to eat - or she couldn’t eat.

All Nesta’s choices had been stripped away from her in one afternoon and her decision to exit swiftly and in outrage was all she had.

He let her. He goaded her, stoking the small flame she held burning until she felt something, even if that emotion was irritation and anger - anything as long as it wasn’t cloying fear. If Cassian told her to leave then she would have stayed in her misery to spite him.

Cassian lifted a clay pot lid, surreptitiously positioned beside him on a chair, to cover her bowl. He would leave the dish outside her door with a slab of buttered bread. Maybe she would eat if it wasn’t in front of his watchful eyes.

He would eat his own in his room, the space of the kitchen and the living area seeming too big now, too empty without Nesta’s presence.

As he passed by the hearth, he lowered the flames with his siphons, letting them burn down. As he did, he thought of another fireplace, in another home, in a time which seemed forever ago.

He would help her even if she hated him for it. Cassian would prefer her vitriol to the nothingness living inside her where even her scent had turned glacial; ice cold to the bone.

So yes, Cassian would let the embers burn low for now but he was a creature of air and flame. He was good at starting fires.

TAGGING:

@nehemikkele

 You are the only person who has ever requested a tag from me so thank you so much! :)

[jackarychaoti]

DWC2021-15 - Memory/Chase

TW: Blood | Body Horror | Disturbing Images

-[ MUSIC ] -

Insanity.

In Azeroth, it was known as The Madness, The Darkening, the Dragon’s Sickness... The Nightmare. In many worlds, in millions of languages, it had endless names but it always meant the same thing. A corruption, often brought on by nightmarish feelings or situations, that ate the being alive, twisting it into something else entirely. Dragons fell particularly hard to such a toxic curse, especially.

This was no exception.

“DO NOT LET HIM GET INTO THE FOREST, WE’LL FUCKING LOSE HIM FOREVER!!”

Lokitan screamed as a mere handful of the Heran army raced upon war-bred Granondo, a clove-hooved type horse with coiled horns, best used to ram incoming enemies. Terrifyingly fast creatures that feared nothing in the heat of battle and yet they could not quite keep up with the terror streaking through the rotting fields of a dying wasteland and seemed even less inclined to get anywhere near it.

The target they hunted was a slithering creature running on all fours, bones twisted and inhuman with long tendrils of muddied hair, making the thing look even more sickly in the way that it hung over the face. Now and then, piercing silver eyes would dart back to see just how much closer its pursuers had come in the wild hunt, noting the way the warriors had begun to flank it. If only it could reach the edge of the forest, the beast would have a far better tactical advantage and a speed increase, let alone an easier time to attack those that hunted it.

“Loki!” A voice called out and soon a female rider pushed her steed up to the Dread Prince himself, eyes narrowed, glancing over in his direction. Fire blazed all around her, the snowy locks of her hair wild and free as a hellish set of crimson eyes flitted to the dark-haired rogue. “What do we do if it gets to the forest before we can reach him?!”

“You pray to your mother that we take him down before that.”

Chaos.

It was absolute chaos and he had just told her to pray to the deity that created it.

Inch after inch, Lokitan pressed forward, signaling the General’s finest men to continue flanking the beast, heels dug in harder into his skeletal Granondo to push onward and finally close in the distance of the skittering cretin running on all fours. Once close enough, the agile Prince pushed himself to crouch atop the saddle; he lunged, flickering through the very shadows to reappear right on top of the nightmarish beast. He dared not draw a weapon.

Not against this one.

The clashing form was greeted by the muddied, anemic animal twisting itself to bite hard at its would-be attacker, using the momentum to kick Lokitan right off and send him flying. That mere few seconds to protect itself was costing its safety to get into the forest. A loud shrieking cry pierced through the veil of carnage, knowing the chase was quickly coming to an end. Claws grabbed at the deep red mud below, years of war and corpses all around, the thick blood of countless soldiers meshed together with protected soils and painful, bitter rain. The slick surface had the creature try another attempt to break free, slipping the first few steps.

It was so close… The forest was but a hundred yards away.

Lokitan rolled through the slimy fighting ground, catching himself to snag at the beast’s ankle, yanking it back to throw it in the other direction. He was doing all he could to buy the warriors more time to position themselves and close in on the fighting pair.

“It doesn’t have to be this way, Jack.”

Melted silver raised from under the long strands of hair while the beast hunched itself further, a deep snarl and razored fangs revealed themselves in a warning. The aggressive display had Loki push himself to stand and raise his clawed hands, exposing that he was as unarmed as he could possibly be. He stared down at the nightmare-fueled version of his cousin, his best friend who he knew was in so much pain that he had allowed the darkness to consume his heart.

“Look at me, Jackary… I don’t want to hurt you, hn..?”

There was a brief pause and for a moment, the world stood still. Even the droplets of sweat and foul mud froze in place for a fraction of a second while the thing Lokitan referred to as ‘Jackary’ mulled over its choices. Heavy breaths of air pushed out, bellowed in smoke pouring from its twisted jaw that was filled with acidic drool that flopped to the ground in large globs - a clear sign of the beast’s stress.

“Let’s get you home… Let’s get cleaned up…” A leather-clad hand dared to reach for the unholy creation but within a blink of an eye, time sped back up. Teeth snapped at the grasp, claws raised to full-on attack the one being that kept the beast from the forest it was trying to get to.

“FUCKING--!” Loki found himself head to head with the writhing mass of acid-spitting, half-transformed wyrm, a Beast of Insanity that wore a Prince’s crown and who was upsetting the balance of life and death. Without one, there couldn’t truly be another. Every snap of the jowls and swipe of talons was blocked or barely dodged, up until Lokitan lost his footing.

Slipping, he found himself under those wild jaws, hands clasped the wide-open maw above him that threatened to clamp down on his face and bite his skull clean in half. Muscles ached, his posture shook from trying to push what was once his peaceful, loving cousin off him. It wasn’t until another bubbling mixture of acid was seen dripping from under the beast’s tongue that the rogue knew he was in deep trouble… He was going to have to hurt the beast or die.

One hand released the mouth and in a split-second decision, the palm shoved up hard to strike at the creature’s jawline, his intensely sharp claws sliced the beast’s right jaw, stunning and pushing it away, jarred in surprise. It left Lokitan with just the smallest leeway to raise his hand up in the air, giving a hidden signal.

The Insanity-addled creature hissed loudly but before it could turn to lunge the last few steps to disappear into the forest and become a haunting ghost, a slough of chains and ropes fell atop it, blanketing the wild creature. The engineered nets implanted themselves into the dirt below, radiating pulsations of electrical charges to stun the captured beast into a horrifying submission. The haunting screams of agony, half-human, half-dragon rang out in a near ear-shattering volume.

Only when it stopped struggling to even stand did the shocking currents of energy cease their barbaric, but effective, handling.

“Are you hurt?” The woman from earlier charged forward, sliding down from her fiery warsteed to help Lokitan up from the wet earth.

“No,” Lokitan spat out, snagging the hand to be hoisted up, wincing when it indeed hurt to put any sort of weight on one of his legs. Glancing down at it, he was sure there was likely a fracture somewhere... But now wasn’t the time to dawdle.

“Well, you’re not dead, dear brother, so…” Musing, she helped at least support the Dark Prince, glancing down at the wheezing, now bleeding beast. “This isn’t curable, you know. When someone falls to the Insanity, they don’t come back.”

“Untrue,” Loki quipped, hobbling over with his sister’s help until he was able to ease down and sit next to the captured animal. A gloved hand reached forward, pushing the black hair from its face to indeed reveal a half transformed Jackary, the silver spiral of his eyes a dead giveaway at the corruption. “There was a Priest once who fought it and contained it. Rumour has it he wanders around with a single spiral eye, hn? Fucked up shit.”

The woman sighed, almost huffing while a hand motioned down to what remained of Jack. “Look at him, Lokitan. Half transformed, his brain isn’t fucking in there anymore. Put the thing out of its misery and let the avatar of Life be passed down elsewhere. It’ll rebirth by tomorrow, save your own ass.”

“No.” Lokitan took a moment to grip the skull before him, pinning the dragon further as a small crimson glow overtook his eyes. “He was never meant to hurt anyone, it was her that drove him to this.”

“Yeah, well, she’s pretty fucking dead, now isn’t she?”

A hand waved the antsy woman off, freeing Lokitan to simply focus on the inner workings of the beast before him. It was a rare trick the Rogue had up his sleeve and normally it was used to delve into someone’s memories, to unlock what terrifies them the most to use it against them… But what if, he thought, what if he could use it in reverse?

Time ticked by, allowing the dark, shadowy tendrils of his own essence to seep into Jackary’s form, filtering through and plucking every little bit of the corruption to neatly gather it within. A simple box was made at first, deep inside the dragon’s brain. Soon it was locked away and chained relentlessly to his psyche. A personality that he could never escape from, one that in time, would briefly show a fraction of itself and be referred to as…

Naga.

“M’sorry…” Loki whispered while he worked, remolding and melding Jackary’s very essence and memories to pull him from an otherwise impossible return. It was an attempt to do this or be forced to kill him and Lokitan wasn’t sure he inwardly had the power to do that. “You were designed to never forget.. But if you always remember, there is no saving you from the corruption that has been planted within you.”

Lokitan frowned, rubbing his thumb slowly, sweetly along Jackary’s forehead, the beast had long since stopped trying to fight back. It was lethargic.

“I am taking this from you, Jackary. This thing that turned you into something you aren’t.” Lokitan cooed, almost fondly at his twisted cousin as each memory leading up to a certain event was plucked and stolen away and yet what Lokitan hadn’t realized was that in making such a small hole in Jack’s memory, it served as an endless void. A slow-drip leak that would cause him to forever forget things after a while. A blessing and a curse in the future, but at that moment, when Lokitan gazed down and saw the beginnings of Peridot return to those eyes, he knew it was the best decision he could have made.

---

Darnath quietly clamped the journal closed with a small squeeze to the spine, the entry had been written in a far different font and form which made him think that perhaps Lokitan had written it instead. But... Where the memory that had been stolen was placed was beyond the Dragonsworn.

Stormy grey pools glanced at the snoozing blond curled against his side. Jack, in an elven form, had been cozying up for a small nap while his Knight read, blissfully unaware of what haunting stories Darnath had been refamiliarizing himself with once more. The Champion glanced to the spine of the journal, noting the number upon it, and raised his vision upward. The book he was really looking for must have been the one right before this… Maybe that one held the answer he was looking for.

| - @daily-writing-challenge - |

[whimsicallyreading]

The Death of Me

Part Two-

Danika stares at the gelatinous pony on her bedside table with empty eyes. It’s lifeless gaze kept a constant vigil that she found strangely comforting, especially after Ruhn Danaan ordered her ass home.

Now she was basically a prisoner in her own room. Sabine and the 33rd had already wrung all the information they could from her. Bryce’s piece-of-shit father hadn’t even bothered to show up at HQ.

She would rake him for that.

To ignore your child in life is one thing. But to ignore your daughters death and allow the CC Media to run wild with the stories as they have been? It was disgusting. It made her ill. He would pay for his negligence.

But first, she had to talk to Ember.

~~~

Lunathion’s Party Princess gets taken down a peg!

Notorious partner in crime, Bryce Quinlan massacred in the up-and-coming Alpha’s mutual residence.

~~~

Danika new it would be a rough phone call. She knew that the woman on the other side of the phone would be grieving. That grief makes people act out and say things they don’t mean.

Still, the guttural cries on the other side of the line shocks her. It evokes the first twinge of emotion she’d felt outside of her own pain in days.

Guilt.

“What happened, Danika?” Her surrogate mother sobs over the speaker. “They won’t tell me how it happened. I don’t even know when they will release my daughter’s body for burial.”

The weeping increases in intensity, as Danika bites back her bitter thoughts. Ember would likely never get to see her daughter’s remains. There was nothing left. No fixing the damage done to Bryce’s frame. She was cracked like a shell and vacated, the autopsies they would need to perform would only further ruin her flesh.

“I can’t tell you anything yet,” Danika consoles. “There’s a lot I don’t know, but I will find out the details. In the mean time...I know this is a lot to ask-“

Danika chokes over the words. Emotions were never her strong suit. On an average day it didn’t matter, people knew it was her nature to be blunt. They took no offense to her crass personality. Even if her words hit a mark, who would say anything to her?

Ember was different. She cared for the woman who’d loved her like she was flesh and blood. Who mothered the person that was her soul friend. Danika didn’t want to cause Ember any more pain than she was already going through, but this request would not land lightly.

“What is it?” Ember’s voice rasps over the phone.

Danika pulls air deeply into her lungs and closes her eyes. “I need you to stay away from the city.”

Silence.

“It’s dangerous right now. I don’t know why Bryce was targeted. If there is any link between you and the killer whatsoever I don’t want you in their line of fire.” Danika knows she rambling, but her composure couldn’t exist in the blanketed quiet.

“I promise I’ll take care of everything. I’ll figure out where Bryce is and make sure she gets home to you. Paperwork, medical issues, I’ll take care of it all, Mama Ember.” The promises she makes are big, she’s not even sure she can fulfill all of them. “Just please, stay back and keep safe.”

More silence. Danika’s stomach is rolling and she’s not sure if Ember is ever going to reply when a new voice sounds from the device.

“Danika, it’s Randall. We understand what you mean. Ember is just- processing right now.”

The loving, vibrant man who mailed them chocolate croissants, and could out shoot every member of the city’s aux units sounds hollow. None of the normal jovial inflections or calming vibrato. Randall sounds like he’s been choking down glass. “We will stay in Nidaros.”

Danika’s shoulders curl in relief. “Thank-“

“On one condition.” Randall cuts her off commandingly. “You bring whatever is left of my babygirl home, Danika. We don’t want her body dumped in that river.”

He wetly sniffles and something shatters in the background.

“I promise,” Danika whispers, feeling like a small child again. “I promise.”

~

Bryce Quinlan’s questionable lineage could be to blame!

Could halfbreed Bryce Quinlan’s vanir parent play a roll in the brutal death she received over this weekend?

“A bastard daughter is never a good look to a powerful vanir,” says councilwoman Sabine Fendyr

~

Connor and Bronson had a grip on either of her arms as she tries to refrain from clawing her mother’s face off.

“You bitch! You had no idea what you were talking about,” Danika spits, and it only makes her blood boil further when it misses the mark.

Sabine was too poised for a woman who’s daughter was actively trying to kill her. She fiddled with the rip that Danika’s claws left in the shoulder of her expensive suit, and raised a manicured brow. “I only spoke the truth. Are not most young demifae deaths due to domestic disputes with the vanir parent?”

“For children, yes!” Danika can feel her wolf pushing under her skin, begging to take control. “Bryce knew her father, he has no interest in her whatsoever. You are distracting from the actual killer.”

“Danika, I know this isn’t what you want to hear,” Sabine steps closer, only to stumble back as Danika’s wolf releases a throaty growl. “It looks like a home invasion. Things are missing from the apartment. Quinlan was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“No,” Danika half growls, half whimpers.

“Someone wanted a token from one of the most powerful alphas in all of Midguard.” Sabine continues. “Bryce, with no magic to her name, no way to defend herself got caught up in the mess. It’s unfortunate.”

“You called her a halfbreed,” Danika can’t force the tears back anymore. They run in rivulets down her cheeks, and Connor leans his face against her shoulder as he cracks too.

Sabine shakes her head, “It’s what she is. I raised you to be more logical than this, Danika. You can leave when you regain some semblance of composure.”

The door clicks behind her. She’d locked them in her room. Danika growls and storms over to the door, grabbing the knob with clawed hands. The wood gouges, and the hinges creek as she shakes the lock.

It doesn’t budge.

Bronson walks up beside her, currently the calmest of the three of them but equally downtrodden. He eyes the door, and with one swift movement, kicks the door and sends it flying off the hinges.

“Screw her,” Bronson mutters under his breath.

Connor is sitting on her bed, head in hands. “They are dragging her name through the mud.”

Danika purses her lips, but she can’t disagree. The headlines were only becoming more inflamed.

Bryce Quinlan’s History of Public Indecency

~

Reed Redner claims that Quinlan attempted to solicit him for a chance to stick her hands in the family fortune!

~

Does Jesiba Roga’s apprentice manage her dark dealings in Lunathion’s Meat Market?

~

Leaked! A photo of Bryce Quinlan with Prince Ruhn Danaan. Secret lovers or vengeful baby daddy?

“She’s going to pull the aux units off the case,” Danika breathes out. “She is already setting up an alternative story to pacify the media and her family.”

Connor shakes his head, “her family will never go for the home invasion shit.”

“They won’t,” Danika agrees. “If she pulls the wolf aux off the beat, that only leaves the Fae or the 33rd looking into this.”

“So we gave to work with the 33rd or the faerie squad? Great.” Bronson rubs his face. “Just great.”

They would have to work with one or the other. When Sabine pulls them, they will lose access to all of the research equipment and aux recourses. Danika would not sit idly while Bryce’s death was swept under the rug.

“Let’s start with the Fae. Ruhn is as invested in this as we are, he may be of some assistance.” Danika pulls out her phone to texts the rest of the pack.

Fury Axtar- Danika. What’s going on? yesterday at 8:07

Fury Axtar- I heard. I’m coming. yesterday at 8:10

“Well, it looks like Fury is on her way. We’ll have more help than we thought,” Danika texts Fury to come to the packhorse, not the apartment.

“Do you think she could do something about these articles?” Connor gritted through his teeth, his phone white-knuckled in his hands. Alerts had been popping up on their news apps all day. They’d tagged everything with Bryce’s name thinking something useful may come up, but it was all gossip and slander.

“That’s not really Fury’s expertise,” Danika thinks out loud. “Declan Emmet may be able to help with that.”

“Anything to get this shit taken down,” Bronson’s wolf flashes in his eyes. “Her family doesn’t deserve to be bombarded with this shit.”

“Bryce wasn’t like this,” Connar rakes his hand over his scalp. He was already looking sallow from lack of rest. There was a hollowness to him, that Danika could feel echo in her own soul. Neither of them would forget what they’d seen

“She wasn’t. We will fix it,” Danika makes another promise. “All of it.”  

Bronson and Connor tip their heads in respect. They trust her as their alpha to lead them. Bryce was honorary pack. All of them are grieving and looking to her for guidance. To avenge the lost member of their family.

All Danika can do is assure them and hope she’s telling the truth.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@cursebreaker29

@firestarsandseneschals

@julemmaes

@tillyrubes10

@live-the-fangirl-life

@ghostlyrose2

@kingandfireheart

@fredweasleyhasadhd

@vanzetanze

@wordsxstars

@highladyof-erilea

[crystalgirl259]

The Flame and the Dragon Chapter 32

Chapter 32: The Art Of The Dress

Kai gulped under her stare as Harumi grabbed his wrist, and yanked him forward. They had to get Kai ready for the ball tonight. She took in the teen's messy hair, mud and slush caked riding boots and dirt-splattered riding clothes. He had just taken Flame for a quick walk around the castle grounds with Ronin when Harumi suddenly dragged him away and Ronin took Flame back to the stables. Kai was seriously confused. The ball was not until tonight, so he didn't know why he needed to get ready so early.

Harumi insisted that her absolute mess and they had less than six hours to get him ready.

With a struggle, Harumi managed to drag the stubborn teen inside. Kai looked over his shoulder at the troll for help, but Ronin just threw his hands up in defense and chuckled nervously. He couldn't save the brunette from his fate. Harumi scared Ronin more than Kai did. The harpy ordered him upstairs. Echo had put in too much work into this for Kai to show up looking horrible. Kai tried desperately to pry Harumi's hand on his wrist, fearful of his destination, but she shoved him into his room and shut the door.

Kai stumbled in his haste but regained his footing as he blinked at the chaos circling around him.

Pixal and Tox were both giggling with mischievous smiles while they set up the changing wall, Pixal holding a plethora of bathing supplies in her arms. Tox was in the joint bathroom preparing a large tub with dozens of bubbles gurgling over the rims like a cauldron. Griffin tapped his foot impatiently, holding a pile of clothing covered in red silk Kai assumed was his clothing. Jay, Echo, and Nelson set up a changing wall and Neuro sighed in the corner with his hand buried in his greying hair.

When they heard Kai stumble into the room their eyes turned to him.

Jay, Echo, and Nelson immediately sat on the bed. Jay and Neuro had sympathetic smiles on their faces while Nelson was trying hard to laugh. Echo crossed his arms over his chest with a wide grin on his face. Griffin's face twisted to a wicked smirk. The combination of looks sent a shiver down Kai's spine and he took a wary step back only to bump into Harumi, who was perched at the door with her arms poised to catch him. Her grin made Kai gulp and he turned around only to come face to face with Tox and Pixal.

The normally sweet girls both sported, devilish smiles, like giddy school girls with a new doll.

That realization made Kai wish he could sink into the floor.

"Why are you all looking at me like that?" He gulped, unsure if he truly wanted an answer to that question. He tried to take a hesitant step to the left, but Tox slithered to stop him. He faked right and waited for Tox to move, then went left. Too late he realized his mistake. Kai screeched when Harumi pounced from behind him and Kai was pinned by her strong grip before he could blink.

"What?! Put me down!" Kai demanded thrashing his arms and legs, stunned that Harumi managed to keep such a firm grip on his upper body.

"Oh no you don't," She taunted. "You're not going anywhere, we're going to scrub you from head to toe." She laughed as she dragged Kai towards the bath, but the brunette dugs his heels into the floor and tried to grab anything within reach to slow down his inevitable fate. He managed to free one of his arms from Harumi's grip, but Pixal grabbed his legs and Tox grabbed his wrists. The three women laughed and dragged him towards the washroom, ignoring Kai's rants and protests.

Kai flashed a pleading look over his shoulder, but the boys gave him the same fearful but sympathetic smile Ronin did.

"Sorry firecracker, we're sitting this one out," Jay smirked as he threw his hands up.

"W-W-W-Wait!" Kai pleaded, gripping onto the rim of the bathroom door with his free fingers, holding on firmly as the girls tried to pull him off. His nails scratched off chunks of wood when they finally ripped him off. Harumi shut the door and stripped him of his coat. A wicked gleam covered the three girl's faces.

"Don't worry, Kai, when we're done with you Cole won't be able to keep his hands off you!" Tox grinned wickedly. Kai gulped and backed into a corner before the three giggling ladies descended upon him. The girls had stripped Kai of his clothing faster than he could blink and shoved him backward into the tub of water sending a flood over the rim. Before he could protest, Harumi uplifted a basin of water over his head, drenching him. She then began attacking his hair with soap and her long nails.

"GET YOUR DAMN CLAWS OFF ME, YOU SHARP TALONED HARPY! I CAN SCRUB MYSELF!" Kai screamed a retort and shot to his feet, furious. He and Harumi exchanged glares but the older woman was adamant.

"THAT'S ENOUGH OUT OF YOU!" She scolded, harshly, and forced Kai back down by pushing his shoulders, surprising Kai with her strength. She shoved him under the water then hoisted him back up by his shoulders. Kai coughed and wheezed at soapy water filled his mouth, and released an animalistic growl but Harumi held him firmly by his shoulders while he lashed in the tub. Tox and Pixal then attacked every inch of his body with soap, scrub brushes, and a loofah sponge.

They battled the flailing limbs and the bathwater spraying all over them and the chamber floor.

"Hold still!" Harumi thundered, tightening her grip on one hand as she used the other to scrub Kai's back and shoulders

"Ow, stop that, Harumi, you're choking me!" Kai screeched, furiously. He tried to spray her with water to get her to let go, but missed and hit Pixal instead. Pixal shrieked as she was sprayed when she tried to scrub his hair.

"I've only got your shoulders, now stop that!" Harumi snapped. Tox shrieked rinsing her scrub brush in one of the basins then drowned it in more soap.

"My God, Kai, did you bathe at all this week? You're covered in grime!"

"No, I'm not!" Kai howled, insulted.

"The hell you aren't, I could grow Shade hundreds of ingredients in the muck I scrubbed off you!" Tox protested, returning to her crusade to rid the teen skin of any dirt. Kai wanted to insult them back, but he screamed in pain as a wave of soap fell into his face and stung his eyes.

"Ow! Pixal! Get that out of my face, you're getting soap in my eyes!"

"I wouldn't if you'd hold still!" She snapped, furiously attacking the floppy mane of brown hair. "My God you have so much hair! Tox, get me another basin! I'll need to wash this twice."

"The hell you are!" Kai protested angrily but Harumi dunked him under the warm, sudsy water and hauled him up for Pixal to scrub at his hair again. Kai thrashed furiously like a caged wild animal.

"This is worse than drowning in a frozen lake!" He cried as he thrashed his limbs, causing Harumi's grip to falter, but she quickly recovered.

"Harumi, don't let him go or he'll cause havoc!" Tox shrieked, concerned, grabbing another basin of water and dumped it over Kai's head riding his hair and upper body of soap, but it only worsened his already foul mood.

"Just wait until I get out of this you bitch!" Kai warned as Tox drained the bath and Pixal kept dumping water over him to remove the soap and shut him up...

****************

Cole heaved himself out of his private bathtub the second he heard the door to his room slam open. Water pooled at his feet and his heavy wings shook violently hoping to free the waterlogged limbs from the heavy water weighing them down. He ran a hand through his damp hair spreading raindrops everywhere before grabbing a towel and proceeded to dry himself as best he could. Once dry, he let his damp wings hang loose and wrapped the towel around his waist.

When he entered his joint bedroom, he found Ronin sitting on his bed about to fall over in his half-conscious state.

The boy jumped back to life when Griffin entered, dragging Jay, Echo, and Nelson behind him.

"You're not dressed yet?" Griffin shrieked. "What is wrong with you people? How am I supposed to make alterations if none of you try your clothes on?"

"Calm down, Griffin, there's still plenty of time," Cole snapped, drying his hair, while Ronin helped him dry off his heavy wings. Once that was done, Ronin threw the towels over the chairs and handed him the neat pile of clothing Griffin had laid out for him. Cole grabbed the breeches off the top and disappeared behind the wall while Ronin turned to his companions.

"Why are you three here again?" He blinked. "I thought you were supposed to be helping Kai and fixing up the ballroom?"

"The Ballroom's done," Echo boasted, thrusting his chest forward proudly. "Shade is just setting up the food right now, and I personally made sure everything is perfect!" The boy flashed a triumphant smile.

"You didn't go overboard did you?" Cole asked, coming out from behind the wall, and look at the rest of the clothes. "Could you help me out here, Ronin? You need three people to put this thing on." He asked and Ronin nodded. He helped his lord to the ties and buttons on the difficult outfit Griffin had concocted.

"No, I didn't," Echo answered with a proud glint in his eyes. "This is my far my grandest work!"

"I helped!" Jay smiled, wrapping his arms around Echo's waist, while Nelson laughed at his enthusiasm. Griffin scowled at their distraction as he thrust three sets of clothes into their arms and forcibly propelled them all into the bathroom. "It's time to get dressed!" He exclaimed as he shut the door and left the boys to change before turning to Ronin and the prince. "Are you two finished yet? Ronin needs to get dressed too!"

"I'm going as fast as I can! This thing has knots that have knots!" Ronin complained standing on his toes to meet Cole's taller height and snap the chains on the front in place.

"It isn't that bad," Griffin protested, sitting cross-legged on the bed, waiting impatiently for them to finish.

"This thing has at least six pieces!" Cole snapped.

"So what? It looks brilliant, doesn't it? Besides Kai's is worse."

"I believe it, but he's right you look brilliant! Kai's going to be speechless." Ronin sighed when he finished buttoning Cole's top. Cole smiled and spun around in front of the full-body mirror to test his new clothes from all angles. His ballroom outfit, which consisted of a golden vest over a white dress shirt with a white kerchief, black dress pants trimmed with gold, and a stunning black ballroom tailcoat trimmed with gold. Cole had also tied his shaggy black hair into a ponytail adorned with a silky black ribbon.

"I'll admit it, I didn't think it was possible, but Griffin's outdone himself." He beamed with pride. "Hopefully, it'll be enough to convince my flame," Cole mumbled to himself.

"Tonight he'll be yours." Ronin corrected earning him a confused look from the prince. "We all know what you're thinking, Cole, we wouldn't be a good staff if we didn't know what our prince was thinking! You have nothing to worry about." He added with a smile.

"I hope you're right, I know Kai's answer, but there's still a nagging disbelief that's there." Cole smiled, mentally scolding himself for doubting his staff's loyalty. His sharp claws ran through his bangs.

"Don't be nervous, Kai feels the same way about you, even if he's not ready to admit it out loud just yet, and everyone knows how you feel about him." Ronin reassured him and that made Cole smile.

"Alright, you, time to get you changed." The tailor insisted as he dragged the troll away. Before Ronin could blink, he had been thrown into the same room as his friends, stripped and redressed in a new outfit. Ronin groaned as he looked over his outfit. He knew it was rude to complain and he should be grateful but Griffin had decked him out in formfitting black pants with a pair of spiked-heeled ankle boots, and a shirt made of a smooth black material that was open in the back, but the bottom billowed over his hips.

There were no sleeves, instead, the top material was held with a double ring that hung loosely about his neck.

Long fingerless black gloves with rubies over the back of the hands climbed up his arms, held to the collar of the shirt by gold chains. It was a comfortable outfit, but Ronin had grown so used to lose clothing that covered everything but his hands and head that wearing form-fitting clothing that showed even bits and pieces of his skin made him feel exposed. Echo thought he looked like a girl as he took in his own outfit. They consisted of light brown, form-fitting pants and a white long tunic that was also turtle necked but pillowed almost like a dress near the bottom.

Long black gloves with wide ends that curved to points formed sleeves over his shoulders and a large gold bow half his size, tied in the back.

Jay thought his boyfriend looked spectacular as he tied the bow. His own outfit consisted of a navy blue militaristic style outfit with silver accents, black gloves, and knee-high black boots. Nelson sat on the bed watching them. He eased his boredom by picking at a loose thread on his white, knee-length pants that billowed from the calf down. His outfit was similar to Ronin's but the shirt was a sleeveless turtleneck and was dark purple, and his sleeves were fabric bunched up from the wrists to the upper arms.

Silver leggings peeked above his knee-high black and silver boots.

These were normally not his style, but he didn't mind.

"What did I tell you, Cole," Griffin boasted, loudly, clapping his hands together. "My best work!"

"I believe so," Cole nodded, brushing his black locks to perfection. "Now I'm curious to see what you conjured for Kai."

"I swear if he's not ready by the time I get there, heads will roll!" Griffin exclaimed loudly as he bolted for the door. Cole and his staff laughed hearing Griffin's rant echoing off the hallways.

"I believe that is our cue," Cole announced. The servants quickly proceeded to take their positions in the ballroom, Ronin was the last to leave but Cole stopped him.

"Before you go, will do me a grand favor, Ronin?"

"Of course, name it?" Ronin replied. Cole swooped over to a corner of the room and pulled out two strange silver boxes. He opened one and pulled out the most beautiful piece of jewelry Ronin had ever seen.

"Will you give this to Kai? Tell him if he still wishes to be mine tonight, he'll wear it, but if not I'll understand." He requested. Ronin nodded and bolted towards the East Wing as fast as his legs could carry him. Cole smiled before opening the second box and pulled out an identical chocker, only this one was silver with an emerald heart, and snapped it around his neck then descended down the Western entrance to the ballroom. He couldn't wait to see what Griffin planned for Kai...

****************

Kai growled as he sat on a stool in front of the vanity, his chin resting irritated in his hand while Harumi, Tox, and Pixal dried, brushed, and tried in vain to do something with his untamable hair. After two hours of vicious bathing, he had been dragged out of the tub, dried, dressed in a thin, silk bathrobe for the next phase of his torture. The light material felt wonderful against his tender skin, raw from having half his skin scrubbed off, at least that was what he felt like.

"My God, you have so much, hair! Someone get me another brush!" Harumi hollered over her shoulder. Neuro rushed in, now sporting his new clothing as opposed to his normal uniform. A long velvet grey frock coat, folded over and buttoned down the left side of the chest to hip in a militaristic fashion, and matching pants, white gloves, and black boots with gold buckles. It took all of Kai's willpower not to bury his head in his folded arm, but he knew the girls would shriek if he did.

He bit back and growl every time they came across a particularly stubborn tangle.

"I don't think we'll be able to do anything with his hair, Harumi," Pixal said letting the silk strands bounce back to their natural shape.

"I could've told you that," Kai snapped.

"Oh, be nice," Tox scolded playfully and Harumi pondered for a bit.

"I suppose we'll just have to touch it up with jewelry then." She beamed as she clapped her hands together. "Your ears are pierced, right Kai?"

"Yes," Kai replied looking over his shoulder.

"I'll be right back then! Thank God Griffin decided to go with the gold!" Harumi cheered as she vanished and emerged a moment later with a small wooden jewelry box and began digging through the pieces. Finally, she gave a triumphant cheer and gently titled Kai's head so it was facing her. "Hold still." She warned as she gently pierced his ears with dangling, gold, and ruby earrings shaped like a flying phoenix. She then placed a crown-like headdress shaped like phoenix wings curled around a large ruby on his head, allowing his spikey bangs to spill over it.

"There! You look wonderful!" The girls cheered, while Kai examined their work in the mirror. He had never been fond of gold accessories before but found himself liking them as he admired his reflection.

"Now all we need to do is get you dressed," Tox decided.

"Hurry up, Harumi!" Griffin suddenly thundered as he hammered loudly on the door. "There's less than three hours until the ball starts and I need to see if Kai's clothes need any alterations!"

"We're coming!" Harumi shouted as she threw the door open and the girls led Kai behind the changing wall to help him into the difficult outfit. After a few minutes, Kai was glad he had the girls' help getting ready. The outfit Griffin had created for the evening had more ribbons and ties on it than he cared to count. It would have been a bear to get the thing on properly by himself.

"Wow, you've outdone yourself, Griffin," Tox complimented over the wall. "He looks ravishing!"

"I told you he'd look splendid in gold," Pixal added and Harumi smiled as she laced up the back of Kai's clothing. Kai skimmed over what it was exactly he was wearing and blushed, taking in just how splendid the outfit actually was. Kai wasn't a huge fan of dresses, but he thought this was absolutely gorgeous. The bright, crimson red dress left the top of his shoulders uncovered, but did cover the sides and flowed down into a fancy heart-shaped neckline.

It was a loose fit which made the dress both enjoyable to wear and look at.

His had been left uncovered and in a way, help put focus on his soft tanned skin. The dress's waist was narrow, but it was a loose fit. A gold bow had been wrapped around his waist and positioned slightly to one side. Below the waist, the dress widened had glittering gold ends. The dress reached just above his ankles and was the same length all around. He was given a pair of shining, golden, high-heeled shoes, gorgeous on their own, an ideal match in combination with the dress.

To top it all off he was wearing a pair of simple, but stylish, red elbow-length gloves.

"Are you all sure about this? It is splendid, but I'll probably make it look ridiculous." He pouted as he gazed at his reflection. Before anyone could protest Griffin thundered over.

"I don't ever want to hear that come out of your mouth again!" He scolded swatting Kai's head with two fingers making him wince. "First of all, nothing I make looks ridiculous!" He spoke in a harsh tone, but it softened as he continued but did not lose an ounce of its authority. "Second, that's nonsense and you know it! You're just nervous; I could strip you naked and send you to that ballroom in nothing but a smock and you'd still look fantastic, and don't you ever let yourself forget it."

Kai blinked at the tailor's earnestness then smiled, suddenly feeling very silly.

"We're all done," Harumi announced.

"Good," Griffin smiled as he grabbed Kai's clothed wrists and pulled him back into his room. "Now then, you're done; just give me a few minutes to get everyone else dressed and we'll escort you to the ballroom, got to do this traditionally after all," Griffin winked, ushering everyone out of the room, leaving Kai alone. Alone, at last, he looked at his reflection and smirked proudly at the stunning being staring back at him.

"I do look good." He said out loud when a knock disturbed his play. "Come in!" He called out, wondering who it was. Ronin entered the room holding a box in his hand which almost slipped when he took in Kai's new appearance.

"Can I help you with anything?" Kai smirked, proudly. Ronin looked confused then blushed and straightened himself.

"Cole asked me to bring this to you, he said if you still want to be his for the evening he'd like you to wear it, but he said he would understand if you didn't."

"Thanks a lot, Ronin, I'll see you downstairs." Kai smiled. Ronin bowed and left. Kai sat on the bed and carefully opened the box gasping at the choker inside. It had a golden dragon curled up around a ruby love heart. His fingers gingerly traced over the elegant carvings and circled the beautifully cut ruby shaped exactly like a love heart. Carefully, he removed it from the box and clasped it around his own neck...

[petitprincess1]

My Roommate’s a Demonic Deer Ch8 (Still 4 Months Later)

AO3 Link Summary:  Alastor and Anthony both feel a bit of paranoia for this day out, but a small heart-to-heart (in their own way) puts them at ease. Words: 1,124 I AM SO SORRY. I know I explained the situation, which I will keep up for future readers, but I still feel really bad for making you guys wait. It's not a long chapter, but I feel like it's better than doing nothing at all. I really hope you guys enjoy! Warning: Mild paranoia and panic attacks. ~~~ Alastor felt himself slightly become paranoid at the thought of Anthony being near another person, especially one that he didn't know. ...Granted, he doesn't really know anyone that Anthony knew, but still! It made him feel...like he needed to guard him, keep an eye on him at all times.

…..Cherri could easily be working for  Valentino or even is trying to earn some money! Alastor's not being paranoid, it makes perfect sense! Anthony often could be closed off about those that hurt him, so it only makes sense that he just assumes Cherri is a friend. Yes...yes…

Al then shook himself off and sighed, saying to himself, "Alright...now, all I need is some form of a disguise. I refuse to wear the awful clothing they have nowadays, however." ~~~ Anthony rocked on his heels as he waited for Alastor or Cherri to appear, wearing his crop top still, but switched the sweatpants for some shorts. He wasn't expecting the deer man to even say yes to the idea, if anything he thought the demon would have him grovel. The bastard seemed like the kind of jerk to do that. Then again, he had been a bit nicer to him ever since the story. Maybe...things were turning around?

The boy thought for a second before snorting, "Fuck no! That asshole jus' wanted me ta shut up or-"

He then flinched at feeling his phone buzz and his heart dropped. A slight choked feeling came about him as he took out his phone from his pocket, shaking while doing so. The Italian's eyes were closed as he unlocked his phone and opened an eye slightly. A huge relief waved over him at seeing Cherri text him, "Out front of this dump, waiting for ya, Angie!"

The freckled, spunky girl also had a picture of herself with her tongue sticking out and holding up a middle finger. Anthony felt so dumb for getting so worried. He knew Val rarely texted, but….the silence was unnerving. Who knows what that fucking sociopath was gonna do to him when he came back. Hell, who's to say that he won't even be there or anywhere!? ...Maybe going out was a bad idea. Yeah, he can always just back out. A quick text is all he needed to. A text and he'll be perfectly sa-

"Are we ready to go, my dear fellow?" Alastor’s chipper voice broke Anthony out of his panicked state. He took a deep breath and turned around, looking up instinctively, "Yeah, yeah. Cherri's out…."

He trailed off when he didn't see the normally tall deer demon and instead saw a dark-skinned man. Anthony figured it was still Al, since he was sharply dressed in a button-down shirt and slacks and had a large grin on his face, but it was still shocking. He….He was shorter than him!

The lad waved his hand over the top of his head and Al's black, coiffed hair multiple times. Granted, it was only like an inch or two of difference, but it was an immense change from the seven foot demon. Anthony did this a few more times, only because he could see the annoyed twitch in Alastor's grin. The disguised demon asked, fixing his glasses and taking a deep breath, "Are you quite done?"

Anthony blinked at him and did it one more time, snorting at the light red glow in his eyes. He grinned, "Hey, don't get mad at me! I'm jus' shocked ya actually got yerself a human disguise and one dat's actually fashionable, ya know?" Alastor blinked at him and whispered, "I can still cut open your stomach and rip out your entrails like a magician pulling scarves, you know?"

The lad just waved him off as he went walking out the door, "Enough cute flirtin', Al. Cherri's waitin' fer us! I think yer gonna like her, 'specially since ya adore me~"

He winked at Al before leaving out into the hall with a chuckle. Anthony ended up missing Alastor becoming so comically flustered that his ears and tail appeared on his body. The disguised demon mumbled a curse at his magic betraying him and wondering why it was even acting such an odd way. ~~~ When the two were in the main lobby, Alastor grabbed Anthony's forearm, stopping him before he could make any sexual joke, "Are you alright? I felt you become...uneasy before I asked if you were ready."

Anthony’s grin immediately dropped as he looked away and muttered, "I'm alright, Al. Geez, I'm startin' ta think ya got some- hey!"

He shouted at feeling Alastor’s grip tighten and the man narrow his eyes at him, the smile on his face becoming more strained. The boy's eyes narrowed, as well, and he huffed, practically yelling, "I'm fine! Jus' was worried about Val, dat's all! It's really no big deal, Alastor! Don't gotta worry 'bout me when I'm jus' bein' fuckin' stupid and actin' like a pussy!"

Alastor's previous worries about Cherri working for Valentino slightly diminished, since he also felt sudden relief from Anthony. However, he still had a weird nagging in the back of his mind. Either way, the disguised demon released Anthony’s arm and told him gently, "I know I don't...but that's why I do. You don't have to worry. I'm here."

Anthony seemed shocked at the response and even somewhat flattered. He cleared his throat and mumbled, looking at the floor, "Uh, well...thanks, I guess." Al nodded, "Of course. After all, why would I want to feel like a mess all day because you can't keep your silly, petty emotions in check."

"Yeah, well, fuck ya too, Smiles!"

The two stared at one another before chuckling, clearly showing this was all just fun games. Suddenly, a freckled girl with wild hair appeared at the entrance, poking her head in and shouting, "Yo, gaybirds! Get out here before I leave ya two!"

Anthony shouted back, "Yeah, we're on our way, tittums~!"

The girl practically cackled as she left out and Anthony went running towards the front door. Wanting to hurry but not feel too uncouth, Alastor just quickly walked towards the entrance. The landlady shouted out to Anthony, "Don't be bringing any mud into this damn place, Anthony! You'll be cleanin' it up!"

The boy shouted as he left out, "Suck my left tit, Karen!"

Before Alastor could leave as well, the landlady advised, "Oh, young man, please do be careful how you act outside. It may be normal for the boy, but some might be frightened by your...talents and protective nature."

Al stared at the woman for a few seconds before nodding, "Of course, milady! I wouldn't dream of ruining le cafard's day out."

[jaxsteamblog]

Childhood Sweethearts

Click here to read the entire fic on AO3

(A/N: Long chapter. Zuko has a bad time. :c)

Katara bumped into Suki and Thuy as she made her way through the grove. Together, with Thuy’s directions and Katara’s light, they found Zuko and Sokka only yards apart. Both men were quiet and withdrawn, and covered in mud. 

Not finding the words to breach his silence, Katara only watched Zuko from the corner of her eye. 

Back at the huts, the group was led to the showers so they could bathe. The stalls were outdoors, all in a row, but curtains were hung to give them privacy. Relaxing in the warm water, Katara used as much of the lumpy, sweet smelling soap as she could. She rinsed repeatedly, washing out debris from her hair every time. 

When they emerged, clean clothes were waiting for them and Zuko immediately went to the hut he shared with Katara. She followed after him, still quiet. 

Lifting the flap to the hut, she saw him lying face down on the mattress. 

“Okay, so obviously you saw something out there too.” She said as she walked in, the flap falling behind her.

“What did you see?” Zuko asked, his voice muffled.

“Yue.” 

Zuko rolled over enough to lay on his cheek.

“For real?” He asked.

Katara chuckled and sat next to him. As she did, he rolled onto his side and propped his head up on a fist. 

“She tried to help me with the burden of destiny.” She said.

“Wild.” Zuko said.

“Who did you see?”

“My mom.”

“What?!”

Zuko nodded and Katara laid down on her side facing him.

“What happened?” She asked.

“Nothing really. When I first looked at her, she didn’t have a face.”

“That is terrifying.”

“I agree. But when I looked at her again, she did have a face.”

“Oh spirits don’t say it was your dad’s face or something.”

“It was Noriko’s.” 

“Like, Noren’s wife?” 

“Yeah, her.”

“What does that mean?”

“I don’t know.” Zuko rolled his head in an attempt to shake it. “Noren was friends with my mother and her boyfriend Ikem when they were younger.”

“Did Noriko know them?” Katara asked.

“Not that either of them have said. But Noriko had an accident in the woods a while ago and lost a lot of her memory.” He answered. 

“What kind of accident?”

“I never asked. I felt it was too invasive, you know?”

“Well, what happened to Ikem?”

Zuko laid on his back and put his hands on his stomach, but turned his head to look at Katara.

“It got awkward when Noren was telling me about him. I didn’t really want to know. But he doesn’t live in Hira’a anymore.” He said. 

“Maybe it has something to do with Noriko’s accident?” Katara suggested. 

“I don’t know.” Zuko said.

“Let’s go back and ask.” 

“Go to Hira’a and ask Noren about my mom’s old boyfriend?” 

“I mean, if you saw your mom with Noriko’s face in the swamp, maybe it’s all connected. Your mom, Ikem’s disappearance, and Noriko’s accident. Can’t hurt, right?” She asked. 

“Might be worth a shot.” Zuko said.

Katara leaned over and kissed his forehead.

“I’ll let Dong-Lee know.” She said.

Zuko held onto her and Katara lowered herself, cuddling into his side. She might need to make peace with destiny, but for now she could at least help Zuko with something important to him.

~

In the morning, when Katara explained her plan to cut the visit short so she and Zuko could head to Hira’a, the matriarch refused. Dong-Lee insisted that what the swamp showed him was far more important and insisted that they leave that day. 

Sokka looked haggard and didn’t ask to join, so Toph jumped into the decrepit old car stashed at the edge of the swamp. 

“What are you doing?” Katara asked as Toph buckled herself into the passenger’s seat. The driver didn’t seem to care and she began to work of turning over the engine.

“You do know the nearest city is Gaoling right?” Toph asked. “That’s how come I’ve been to the swamp before. I used to run away a lot.” 

“Are you going to visit your parents?” Katara asked.

“Rolling into my neighborhood with the Fire Lord and Water Tribe queen in this hunk of junk?” Toph asked. She paused as the engine roared to life and the car shook. 

“You better believe I want to visit the Beifong estate.” She said.

Toph returned to her childhood home like a landslide. In a matter of moments, Toph had dragged the equivalent of a front yard’s worth of dirt all over the pristine entry room, commandeered her parents’ private plane, and sent their driver back to the swamp in a much nicer car. 

Before Lao and Poppy Beifong could even properly introduce themselves, Zuko and Katara were swept back out, heading to the airfield. 

Toph stayed behind, for reasons only known to herself.

The plane stopped in Republic City, and that was when Zuko started to second guess the trip. 

“They have been nothing but generous, I can’t go sticking my nose into their private lives.” He babbled as they waited for the fuel truck. 

The new pilot had already boarded, and the new attendants bustled in the back preparing some sort of meal for them. Katara held Zuko’s hand as she looked around. 

“We’re just asking some questions.” She said, ducking her head down to speak quietly. “If Noren’s told you about your mother and Ikem before, I’m sure it’ll be okay.” 

“What if she went back for him and Ikem isn’t gone, he’s dead? And what if that’s the accident Noriko had?” Zuko asked. 

“We won’t know until we ask. And Zuko,” Katara waited until he looked at her. “It’s your mother.”

Looking pained, he only nodded.

It was the middle of the night when they landed in Hira’a. Too anxious to sleep, Zuko threw himself into work while Katara tried to coax him to at least lay down. He ignored her and she had to give up, too tired to fight him.

In the morning, he looked haunted. He was quiet as they ate breakfast and got ready for their outing. After washing his face and having some coffee, a little bit of life returned but it still wasn’t much to dispel his mood.

“Ready?” Katara asked.

Zuko nodded. 

They took a taxi this time, as Zuko was too jittery to sit on a motorbike. As they neared Noren’s home, his body seemed to spasm.

Katara took his hand and he stilled.

“It’ll be okay.” She murmured.

When they exited, the door to Noren’s house opened. The taxi pulled away when Noren stepped out.

“Zuko?” He asked, clearly surprised. “Ah, forgive me, Fire Lord.”

Noren bowed and Zuko took in a deep breath, releasing it slowly. 

“Noren, I need to ask you something.” He said.

“Of course. Come in, come in.” Noren said hurriedly, gesturing for them to enter.

Zuko and Katara walked in, feeling the cool AC brush against their faces. 

“Noriko left to take Kiyi to her art class. I hope you’ll stay long enough to see her.” Noren said as he shut the door. “Now how can I help the Fire Lord?”

“I need you to tell me about Ikem, and my mother.” Zuko said, turning around to look at Noren. The other man’s face paled.

“Your mother?” He repeated.

“Zuko saw a vision of Ursa in the Foggy Swamp. And Noriko.” Katara said.

Noren staggered backward, falling into the door. Katara grabbed him, steadying him and looking back at Zuko.

“Your mother…” Noren murmured.

“You knew her. Both of them.” Zuko said.

“They were childhood sweethearts, you said.” Katara added gently. 

“Yes, yes I knew them.” Noren said, nodding and standing on his own. “I knew them well.”

Noren stood, looking distantly into his memory. Zuko stood quietly, watching him.

“Should we have something to drink?” Katara suggested. 

Noren shook himself, looking bewildered from her to Zuko, as if he didn’t expect to see them there.

“Right. Tea.” He mumbled and walked to the kitchen. Katara took Zuko’s arm and led him to the couch in the living room, sitting him down.

“Are you doing okay?” She asked.

“Yeah.” Zuko said softly. 

“I’m going to see if Noren needs any help. I’ll be right back.”

“Sure.”

Katara walked to the kitchen and could hear Noren speaking quietly as she neared. Stepping through the archway, she saw him standing at the phone mounted on the wall, covering the mouth piece with his hand. 

“Just do some shopping or something. You can bring Kiyi back home for dinner.”

Katara frowned and stepped further into the kitchen.

“Is everything alright?” She asked.

Noren jumped and slammed the phone back onto the mount. 

“Noriko forgot her grocery list. I was telling her what we needed.” He said and moved hurriedly to the stove. 

“How thoughtful.” Katara said flatly.

Noren grabbed his kettle and moved toward the sink.

“Let me.” Katara said, sweeping in and grabbing the handle from him. Pulling her hand through the air, water shot out of the faucet, causing the handle to screech as it was forced up to open the valve. 

Keeping icy eye contact, she filled the kettle and used the rest of the water to slam the handle back down. Then, flashing Noren a cold smile, Katara returned the kettle to the stove and clicked the knob to turn on the gas. 

“I know you know something, Noren, and I know Noriko is involved.” Katara said, watching the spark under the grate before it caught the gas. A flame shot up and she turned the knob down, placing the kettle on the grate. 

“I know you want to protect your wife,” Katara turned and stared at Noren. “But you owe Zuko the truth.” 

“The truth is going to make things worse.” Noren said.

“You don’t know that.” Katara replied.

“Trust me, I do.” He said.

“No.” Katara repeated firmly. Her hands curled into fists and the kettle started to scream, steam already pouring out of the spout and spitting boiling water. 

“Tsk.” Katara wound water from the air around her hand, freezing it as she grabbed the handle of the kettle. “It’ll scald the tea.”

Noren collected the teapot and tea tin, setting them on the counter as Katara brought the water to the correct temperature.

“Aren’t you a Firebender? Make it hot.” 

Katara sighed, chilling the water and calming herself as she poured. Zuko was far better at making tea. 

Noren busied himself with the tray while Katara made the tea. She followed him back out to the living room, where Zuko was still sitting quietly.

“That was fast.” He said.

“I can make water hot too.” Katara said, bumping purposefully into his knees as she moved to sit next to him. 

“Now, Zuko, you said you had a vision?” Noren asked as he poured out the tea. He handed out the cups, but avoided Katara’s eye.

“Yes.” Zuko said simply and Noren sat down.

“The Foggy Swamp is one of the places on earth where spirits have an easier time moving through the veil.” Katara explained. “We went out with a group and I think we all saw something.”

“The spirits?” Noren asked, sounding anxious again. “There are other places where they enter?”

His words stuck out to Katara but she nodded.

“The oasis in the North Pole is always open because of Tui and La, and that’s not always a good thing.” She said. “I heard there’s a couple of places in the Earth Kingdom, and it’s rumored there’s a library in the desert, but the Foggy Swamp is the largest place where spirits have been found.”

“Is there a place near here?” Zuko asked, having also caught on Noren’s question.

“I…” Noren brought up his tea cup but didn’t drink. He lowered it and looked down into it. 

“There are three lakes in the woods, just outside of the village. A spirit visits on each solstice and has...powers.” He said. 

“What kind of powers?” Katara asked suspiciously. 

“It’s said that she is fate and controls the past, the present, and the future. And that she shapes each and every human before they are born, creating their entire lives.” Noren said.

“What does she do at the lakes?” Zuko asked.

“She can change….things.” Noren answered.

“What things?” Zuko questioned.

“I-” Noren started but jumped as the front door opened.

Noriko burst in and looked around, shocked to see Zuko and Katara.

“Fire Lord?” She asked, confused.

“Noriko.” Katara said and stood. 

“Gah!” Noriko shut the door and smacked the back of Noren’s chair. “I thought there were burglars!” 

“I told you not to come home!” Noren said, putting his tea cup down and turning in his seat.

“Why? Because the Fire Lord and the Queen are here?” Noriko clicked her tongue in annoyance. “They come to see us all the time.” 

Noriko pushed past Noren’s chair and went to Zuko, holding out her arms.

“It is so good to see you, la.” She said and Zuko rose. He hugged her and Noriko rested her head on his chest for a moment.

“It’s good to see you, Auntie.” He said.

“Oh! You sound so tired! What happened?” Noriko patted her hands against Zuko’s chest and then turned around. “What tea is this? Did you get this out of the gold tin?”

Noren shook his head and Noriko clicked her tongue again.

“Serving the Fire Lord such mediocre tea. His uncle owns a tea shop in Ba Sing Se! This is ridiculous.” She said.

“Noriko.” Noren said but Noriko waved him off, walking to the kitchen.

“I’m making a fresh pot.” She said.

“Noriko.” Noren said again, sound desperate. Noriko stopped and looked at her husband. She then glanced at Zuko and Katara.

“What’s happened?” She asked.

“Auntie, when did you come to Hira’a?” Zuko asked.

“When did I…?” Noriko frowned. “I was born here.”

She turned to Noren. “I was born here, right?”

“My mother came here, thirteen years ago, didn’t she? Looking for Ikem?” Zuko asked. 

Noriko, still frowning, wrung her hands.

“I don’t know them.” She said.

“Noriko.” Noren said gently, standing up and taking her hands in his. He lifted them to his face and kissed her hands.

“Ursa came back, as you said. She wasn’t looking for Ikem though. She thought he was already dead.” Noren said, lowering Noriko’s hands and staring at them. “She knew her husband was a jealous man.”

Katara took Zuko’s hand and felt the chill of his skin.

“I met her at the theatre. I recognized her immediately; it was like she hadn’t aged a day.” Noren said, looking now at Noriko’s face. “She’s still the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.”

Noriko pulled away and Noren turned to Zuko and Katara.

“The Mother of Faces can change how someone looks. She can also take away memories.” He said. 

“What?” Zuko asked. 

“Ozai sent men after me, shortly after Ursa left the village. I tried to hide in the woods and found the Mother of Faces by accident. I asked her to change me, but to leave my memories so I could always remember Ursa.” Noren said. 

“And when Ursa came back, you took her into the woods.” Katara said.

“It was to protect her.” Noren said and faced Zuko. “Your father was going to kill her.”

“Was it protecting her when she forgot her children?” Katara demanded.

“Noren, what are you saying?” Noriko asked, pulling on Noren’s sleeve.

“She thought she’d never see them again. That she’d never see you again.” Noren looked from Katara to Zuko. “It was unbearable for her.”

“You were able to keep memories of Ursa, did you know you would see her again?” Katara shouted.

Noren, hurt and panicked, stepped toward her.

“No! But I couldn’t think of living a life without a memory of her.” He said.

“So when Zuko was in your home, playing with his half-sister, you were happy to say nothing?” Katara questioned.

“Ozai could still-”

“Zuko is Fire Lord now!” Katara yelled.

“Stop!” Noriko cried, stepping in front of Noren and holding out her arms. “Please!”

“Both of you are incredibly selfish.” Katara spat. She glared at Noriko, even as the woman cowered. “How could you choose to forget your own children? After what you did for them?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Noriko said weakly, slowly dissolving into tears.

“Katara.” Zuko said, his voice flat.

“Childhood sweethearts.” Katara said mockingly. She then pointed at Noren. “You are just as jealous and possessive as Ozai.”

“Katara, let’s go.” Zuko said. “She made her choice.” 

Katara turned and they both started to walk to the door, hearing Noriko whimper behind them. As Zuko touched the handle, Noriko spoke quietly.

“Turtleducks.” She whispered.

The handle in Zuko’s hand melted. 

“What.” He croaked, looking at the door.

Katara turned and saw Noren holding Noriko, who was looking down at the floor.

“I remember a turtleduck pond. And a little boy.” She said. “Turtleducks don’t live in Hira’a.” 

“They live in Caldera in the summer. The ducklings would always hatch around my birthday.” Zuko said. 

Katara leaned across him, cooling the metal and pulling it off. Dropping it on the floor, she could feel Noren and Noriko jump at the sudden clatter. 

“Come on, let’s go.” She said, slipping her fingers into the space where the doorknob was and ripping the door open. 

“There was a little girl too, do you remember her?” Zuko asked, now sounding hurt. 

“Kiyi?” Noriko asked, sounding hopeful.

Zuko winced, shutting his eyes and Katara tugged on his arm.

“Let’s go.” She said again.

Katara got the taxi and gently handled Zuko into the backseat. He moved like an old man, or someone recovering from a bad fever. His skin switched rapidly from hot to cold and Katara forced him into the bathroom when they got to their rented home. 

She drew a bath for him and sat next to the tub. Zuko brought his knees to his chest, curling over his legs and sobbing. Katara stayed quiet, having to focus on her bending to keep the water from scalding or freezing him as his own bending went haywire. 

This was something they had talked about; their shared history dotted with moments of self-destruction. 

When the water stayed the same temperature and Zuko started to slump, Katara leaned over the edge to wash his hair. At the very least, she could manage that. 

After rinsing the soap out, Katara grabbed a towel as he got out. She dried him gently and Zuko stopped her. He hugged her tightly and Katara dropped the towel, feeling his damp skin cling to her shirt. 

“I’m so sorry.” She whispered.

“She said she poisoned Azulon to protect me. But then she just….forgot me.” Zuko said, choking up again. 

“I know.” 

“She forgot Azula. Azula truly had no one.” 

“She had you.”

“And look what I did to her.”

“Zuko.” 

“How could she forget us?”

“I don’t know.” Katara stepped back and held Zuko’s face in her hands. “But so many people have chosen to keep you in their lives. I chose you, and I will continue to choose you every day, for the rest of my life.” 

Zuko nodded and she picked up the towel. After she got him in bed, Katara sat in the bed and watched him fall asleep. As she gently pushed his long hair out of his face, she examined the different halves. 

Plucking the water out of her shirt, Katara swiped a finger at the edge of the scar. 

From the moment she first saw him, she knew what the scar was. Third degree burn, having damaged the epidermis and dermis. The burn was treated well but resulted in permanent hearing loss in one ear, vision loss in the affected eye, and contracture scar. Scarring is the result of damage being healed and collagen production. 

Only water from the spirit oasis had ever done anything to clear away scars. 

As Katara shook the water off her finger, she knew nothing had changed. 

He had been a child.

He had faced his father, knowing his mother had died at Ozai’s hand. 

“I wish I had known you when we were children.” Katara whispered as she laid down next to Zuko. “I would have loved you then and ever after.”

Curling into his side, Katara closed her eyes. When she had children, she would be a better mother. 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55

[yourdeepestfathoms]

pegasus grounded (part one)

[horse racing au]

———————————

...and they’re off!

 “Lawrence will you stop cringing and HELP ME?”

Barbara’s partner peeked into the barn, his face pale and expression disgusted, then immediately yanked himself back out.

 “Oh, that is so gross! I didn’t sign up for this!”

 “You didn’t sign up for ANYTHING! I am letting you LIVE in MY HOUSE for FREE! So get your ass OVER HERE and HELP ME!”

Standing against the far wall of the barn, Adam, Barbara’s husband, and Lydia, their young farmhand, stood by, watching the exchange go down. Lydia was holding any tools that might have been needed. The barn cat, Hemlock, came strolling by, took one glance at the scene, then bounded out.

 “Are they…?” Lydia’s words trailed off as she scratched the top of her head. “Does this…?”

 “Oh, yeah,” Barbara said, looking over at her. “This is our process!” And then, shrilly, “LAWRENCE!!!”

 “You have your ARM in a horse’s VAGINA!! You never said anything about THAT when I came to live with you!”

 “I’ll stick my arm up YOUR VAGINA if you don’t get over here!”

 “I don’t have a vagina!!”

 “I DON’T CARE!!” Barbara then quieted her voice and stroked the fur of Latte, the foaling horse she was assisting, “Shh, Shh, Shh. It’s okay, sweetie. You’re okay… LAWRENCE I SWEAR TO GOD!!”

 “Okay! Okay! I’m coming!”

Beetlejuice dragged himself over to the fallen horse and did his best to not look at the hooves sticking out of the mare’s vagina.

After some time went by, Barbara was pulling on the foal’s front legs, sticky and wet with birthing fluid and covered in the placenta. She was doing her best to be gentle, yet firm enough to pull out the baby, but the mare continued to let out louder whinnies. Adam gripped tightly to his shirt as he watched. They had already lost three dams that season. They couldn’t take losing another.

Despite its name, The Netherworld was one of the most successful horse ranches in all of America. In terms of the equine community, Barbara and Adam Maitland were basically famous. They had bred several winning foals from the finest mares and the strongest stallions. People came from miles just to bid on one of their colts or fillies. All the horses on their farm were like family, and losing them was like a shot straight to the heart.

 “Come on, girl. I can’t do it alone. Push.” Barbara said encouragingly, pulling out more of the baby.

 “Come on, Latte, push. You can do it.” Beetlejuice said to the mother. The horse’s wild, tired eyes looked up at him.

And then, as if she was actually listening, she began to push harder. The foal’s head slipped out a second later, followed by the rest of the upper body.

 “Hey! She’s doing it!” Beetlejuice exclaimed. “Oh, that is disgusting. But she’s doing it!”

 “Almost there,” Barbara murmured as she got a hold of the foal’s middle.

After a few minutes, the foal was finally out. A spew of birthing fluids and placenta followed, and Beetlejuice was darting out of the barn, causing Barbara to laugh as she peeled off the soaked glove she had on her arm.

 “Good work, Beej!” She called.

 “Urrg…” Beetlejuice groaned from outside.

 “You okay, love?”

 “Fine,” Beetlejuice replied, then grumbled, “Like you care…”

Barbara laughed again and then looked back down at the baby. The new foal looked just like its mother. Under all that goo was a beautiful, chestnut-colored mustang, with a sweet little patch of white on its nose. She just about swooned when she saw those large, gleaming brown eyes look up at her.

 “It’s a filly,” Barbara called to Adam, who was taking deep breaths of relief.

 “Oh, she’s perfect,” Adam said, walking over slowly. “I was so worried for a moment there. You know, after Misty and Prancer and Baylock…”

 “Hey,” Barbara cupped his cheeks, making him look at her. “That isn’t going to happen. We aren’t going to lose anymore.”

Adam nodded.

The filly began to gather her surroundings, looking around to see where she was while her mother licked and nuzzled her from above. After a moment, she slowly began to stand on her long legs, wobbling and tumbling down a few times, making Lydia laugh a bit before she finally started to get the hang of it. She clumsily tottered her way over to her mother and instantly began to nurse.

 “Can’t believe you made birth your profession,” Beetlejuice said as he entered again.

 “What do you think doctors do?” Adam looked at him.

 “I--” Beetlejuice shut his mouth. “Shut up.”

Adam laughed. Barbara shook her head, then looked over at Lydia.

 “What did you parents say about tonight?”

 “They said yes,” Lydia said.

 “Awesome!” Adam looked excited. “FINALLY, we can show you proper horse racing! Barbara, go get changed! Hurry!”

None of them blamed him for his energy. Horses were everything to them, and there was no better way to pass the time than watching horse races. This would be Lydia’s first time watching one firsthand since she was employed by them.

Lime Rock Raceway was a huge, towering stadium, filled with sharply-dressed patrons, colorful slot machines, and expensive fine wine. Barbara, her two partners, and Lydia got to watch the races from the highest point, where the whole track was stretched out before them, eager for their attention. They discussed their bets on the contenders in the next race as they waited.

 “That one.”

Beetlejuice scoffed.

Barbara did not. She continued to stare down at the horses filing onto the muddy racetrack. The one that had caught her eye was at the back of the pack, head held low, ears flicking all over as if it heard something nobody else did. She checked the number.

 “Beside The Dying Fire,” Adam said, having already looked. “Jockey’s name is Jeopardy.”

“What a curious name,” Barbara mused. “Must be a nickname.”

“I sure hope so,” Beetlejuice snorted. “Or else his parents must hate him.”

 “Why are they always men?” Lydia grumbled. She wasn’t having nearly as much fun as Adam had been hoping for, but Barbara didn’t blame her. Watching a horse race wasn’t for everyone.

She looked up at Barbara, asking again, “Can women not race or something?”

Barbara chuckled. “Of course they can. A lot just choose not to. It’s a very male-dominated sport.”

 “That’s weird,” Lydia said, squinting down through the glass at the jockey in question. Despite how thin all the riders were, this one in particular was awkwardly small compared to his competitors. His silks were red and white with black and white stripes down the long sleeves. “Aren’t jockeys supposed to be, like, light? Wouldn’t it make more sense for women to race? It’s easier to be lightweight when you’re a woman.”

 “You got a point there, kid,” Adam said.

 “The weight thing is so fucking stupid. Also, no offense, Babs, but you can’t possibly think that will win?”

Barbara turned to Beetlejuice with a coolly raised eyebrow, a smile playing around her mouth. “Do you doubt me?”

Beetlejuice grinned at her. “Never.”

Nobody knew exactly where Lawrence “Beetlejuice” Shoggoth had come from. He had just shown up one day down in town, presenting himself at Yonkers Raceway with dyed green hair and barely the clothes on his back. But when he started to ride, nobody cared about that anymore. Up on that saddle, Beetlejuice was unstoppable force of speed and grace. Nothing stopped his stride, ever. The races he rode seemed to unfurl as though to a script he had written; a script that left everyone else trailing behind his broad shoulders like a wake left in water. He was the best rider Barbara and Adam had ever seen, but never got to actually become professional due to the weight limit required to be a jockey. Now, he had become more mellow, living among Barbara and Adam as a horse trainer, wanting to teach others about his methods, but still not finding the right student. Nobody he ever came across was good enough for him and his golden wonder: Sandy aka “It’s Showtime,” a magnificent black and white thoroughbred mare with bulky muscles and a knack for sprinting.

Barbara winked at him. “Exactly.”

Out in the mud, the horses were lining up at the gate. Barbara’s bet, Beside The Dying Fire, had drawn a bad position, way over on the outside. Barbara glanced over the information again. The horse was coming up to age four, stood at a staggering seventeen hands, and had terrible form. His jockey was basically a nobody, too, as scrawny and aloof as the horse. And yet, she was drawn to the stallion. There was something to look at with that dull grey horse, even if nobody else saw it.

The racers came under starter’s orders and then they broke from the gate as one at the siren’s scream. It was a small field- plenty of hooves had scratched their own trenches from the earth due to the weather. Beside The Dying Fire hunkered down the outside, ears pulled back against the driving rain. Barbara watched him gallop, watched the low, straight stride stretch and release over the sodden ground. She had grown up around horseflesh, had watched races obsessively for years; she knew a good horse when she saw one.

This was not it.

But all the same, she found herself unable to look away. There was something.

Slogging through the slippery mud, Beside The Dying Fire did not display the brilliance locked deep within him--but when the finish line passed beneath him, his nose was one of the ones in front. Barbara could see the jockey, slathered in muck all over, smiling with relief.

Barbara smiled too, which turned to a smirk as she looked at Beetlejuice. “I told you.”

 “Never doubt you,” Beetlejuice said. He looked back down at the horse in question. “I’m glad I listened to you. Let’s go have a chat with this one.”

——— ——— ———

 “How many times do I have to tell you? Use your goddamn whip!”

 “I don’t want to! It’s mean!”

The sound of arguing echoed down the stable corridor like thunder.

 “Mean? What kind of PETA shit have you been looking at? It’s a damn animal. It doesn’t know anything.”

 “Peril knows a lot of things! He’s smart!”

 “You’re losing us so much money.”

 “I can win without hitting him. I don’t need a crop. I did good today!”

 “You got third. You should have gotten first.”

 “At least I wasn’t last.”

 “Each day you prove that your kind doesn’t belong in racing. Not unless you use your fucking whip!”

 “Well, I think I raced really well.”

 “Your parents will be hearing about this.”

A grizzled man stormed past Barbara, Adam, Beetlejuice, and Lydia as they were making their way down the aisle, hissing and cursing underneath his breath. They all looked forward again to find the victim of his verbal assault: the jockey of Beside The Dying Fire.

 “I think we did good,” He said to the grey giant munching on some alfalfa inside the pen he and that man had been arguing in front of.

“Jeopardy?”

Saying that name made Barbara feel a little stupid, but her call was received when the jockey just about jumped out of his skin. He whirled around, startling his horse into a stomping, huffing fit. He blinked big, doe-like eyes at Barbara and her group.

And that was when Barbara realized he wasn’t a he at all.

Beside The Dying Fire’s jockey was a girl.

Well. That probably explained what that man had meant when he said “your kind.”

She was a tiny, skinny little thing, barley 5’1, bearing no muscle at all. She was young, too, much younger than any of the jockeys Barbara had ever seen before. At most, she had to be fifteen, but by how high pitched and youthful her voice was, she could be even younger. She was completely slathered in mud from head-to-toe, face smeared with sludge and blocking most facial features, but her youth was clear and her hazel eyes were bright behind her goggles.

 “Hi! Hi. Yes, hello. I’m Jeopardy.” She said, stammering slightly, and her voice was a lot higher up close, but not in an obnoxious way. It was sweet and silvery, like candy.

“You’re a girl,” Lydia said in wonder.

The jockey blinked, then looked down at herself. “Last time I checked, yes.”

Lydia laughed.

Jeopardy tried to dust herself off now that she was in the presence of other people, only to remember that she was completely covered in grime. She dropped her arms, looked back up at them, and said, “I swear, I’m not usually covered in this much mud.”

They all laughed. It was nice to see a jockey that had a sense of humor. There were too many that got cranky for asking simple questions or even breathing in the general vicinity of their horse. This girl was the complete opposite of that, and it perhaps had to do with her young age.

 “Does it get in your mouth?” Lydia asked.

 “Oh yeah,” Jeopardy answered. “And my nose. And my ears. ”

Lydia laughed. “How?!”

 “I have no idea!” Jeopardy exclaimed. “Usually it isn’t this bad, but it was rainy today, so it kinda got everywhere. My dinner tonight is going to taste like earth.”

More laughing, and Jeopardy looked delighted. She was giving off a strong sense of loneliness, like it wasn’t normal for people to talk to her in such a friendly way.

“I’m Presley Lind,” Jeopardy— no, Presley, said. “Jeopardy is just a show name.” She then extended a hand to Barbara, only instantly rip it away when she realized how dirty her glove was. “Oh dear. Pretend I shook your hand or else my Southern Belle training will go down the drain.”

“I’m Barbara,” Barbara said. “These are Adam, Beetlejuice, and Lydia.”

“It’s nice to meet you all,” Presley said politely, smiling, and her lips were caked with drying mud. “What can I do for you all?”

 “Oh, we just wanted to come down and congratulate you on your victory tonight,” Barbara said. “You were amazing.”

Presley perked up, as if it wasn’t uncommon for her to be congratulated. “Oh, really? Th-- thank you! But I didn’t really do anything. It was all this big guy!” She turned to her horse, who looked more brown than grey with all the mud sticking to his coat, and she had so much love in her eyes.

 “He’s beautiful,” Adam said. “What’s his name?”

 “Peril!” Presley told him proudly. “Presley and Peril- it’s kind of our thing.” She reached out and patted the stallion’s freckled nose.

Barbara felt a sort of endearment fill her heart. What an adorable girl.

And then Peril snorted and spit half-chewed alfalfa and huge globs of saliva right into his rider’s face.

For a moment, Presley was frozen, then spit the muck back out onto the ground and raised her gloves hands to wipe her face off. She took off her goggles, and the rings left around her eyes were perfectly clear of grime.

 “I deserved that,” Presley said. She looked at Barbara and her group. “Do not mess with this one when he’s eating.”

 “Say, Presley,” Beetlejuice spoke up. “Do you have a trainer?”

 “Yes, sir,” Presley said, and her manners shocked Barbara. “He was that guy yelling.”

 “Does he always yell at you like that?” Adam asked, sounding slightly concerned.

Presley nodded. “Usually. He doesn’t like me or Peril very much. But he was a lot nicer today. He didn’t hit me with my crop this time!” She laughed, and then realized the others weren’t laughing with her, so she stopped and cleared her throat. “I’m-- I’m totally joking. That was a joke!”

 “Well, it sounds like your guy right now is an ass, but you’re in luck,” Beetlejuice said. “Presley, I’d like to be your trainer.”

[beware-of-you-98]

arms (jj x emily!!)

emily is very surprised by the amount of arm strength jj has

“Em?”

Tearing her eyes away from Rossi and Matt hulling their unsub up the very hill she had just tumbled down, Emily focuses her attention on the blonde profiler a few feet away. Blinking her eyes slowly, the unit chief winces with a sharp inhale, shifting on the cold, wet ground.

Ouch, is all she’s able to think with an internal grimace. Her heart beats slow as she comes down from the adrenaline high from the chase, dull, throbbing pain quickly taking its place.

If Emily were to guess right now, she’d definitely say that she bruised her backside sometime during slide down this massive, slippery hill. Her hands are covered in mud, sting from her desperate attempts to grab onto tree roots or rocks to slow herself down.

She winces as she sits up, hand coming to craddle the back of her own head. She immediately jerks back, face squishing in disgust when she feels the clay trodded sludge caked into her hair. Gross.

She inhales sharply, forcing herself up into a seated position. Her pants are beyond ruined, stained various shades of rusty red and burnt orange from the mud. She’ll have to throw out her white blazer once she gets out of the field—there’s no saving it.

Slowly, she wipes her palms on the sides of her pants in a meager attempt to clean them. She grimaces again as she does so. The shower in her hotel room is definitely going to become her new best friend by the end of the night. She’s going to have to wash her hair alone at least three times before she’ll get the viscous, thick mud from the strands.

“Are you okay?”

Emily lifts her hand up, waving JJ’s concerns away in dismissal. “I’m fine,” she insists, plastering a convincing smile on her face. “I’m fine. It was just a little tumble.”

It most certainly was not a little tumble, but the older agent is way too proud to ever admit it outloud.

JJ’s eyebrow quirks in disbelief, but she remains silent as she finally tucks her Glock back into the holster. “Can you make it back up?”

Emily’s gaze flickers to the steep, slippery hill in dismay, biting her inner cheek to hold back a sigh. Absolutely not.

Flashing a brief assuring smile, she bobs her head once in confirmation. “Yeah,” she breathes before clearing her throat with another nod. “Yeah, I can make it.”

JJ hums, lips tugged down into a doubtful frown, but stays silent as the unit chief starts to move to stand up. She extends her hand, backing off only slightly when Emily dismisses her concerns with a wave of her hand. She hovers near, arms poised just in case.

Jaw clenching in determination, Emily forces herself up onto her knees, palm splayed out on a nearby tree as she unsteadily rights herself. She lets out a puff of air between her teeth when she gets up on her left leg. Her teeth grit in determination, hoisting herself upright in one solid motion.

White hot searing light flashes behind her eyelids as soon as she puts pressure on her right ankle, choked yelp of pain escaping her lips.

Just before she hits the ground again, JJ’s hands reach out and grab onto her biceps with a hissed curse. Emily sucks in a sharp breath, face burning in shame, becoming hyper aware with just how close their faces are. She whips her head down to a patch of moss on the tree instead of JJ’s face, heart racing wilding against her ribcage.

She swallows audibly, shoulders slumping from her wounded pride. “Okay, I think might need some help,” she admits in a small voice.

JJ’s exhales an amused breath from her nose, her breath warming against the side of Emily’s face. “You think?” she teases quietly, shaking her head with a light laugh when the blush on the older woman’s cheeks darken. “It’s okay. I got you.”

JJ carefully guides one of Emily’s arms around her shoulders, one arm going firmly around her waist. If she’s at all bothered by the sticky mud, she doesn’t show it whatsoever, grip firm around the older woman. “Hold on tight,” she warns as her other arm loops around the back of Emily’s thighs.

The brunette’s eyes widen a split second as soon as she realizes what the blonde is attempting to do. Momentary panic seizes her chest, a squeaked, “JJ—“ coming from her mouth in protest because even if she’s not heavy, the younger agent weighs just about as much as her and, really, the last thing Emily wants is them both taking a tumble back down into the mud.

“JJ—” she gasps when the blonde bends slightly, cutting herself off with another squeak when she’s picked up from the ground. Her free arm wraps firmly around JJ’s front in panic in attempt to keep herself from slipping, eyes squeezed shut as she waits for both of them to end up on the ground.

When she doesn’t go falling, her eyes fly open, staring up at JJ in wonder. The blonde is carrying her as if she weighs nothing, is making this look incredibly effortless and easy. Emily’s mouth goes dry at the firm muscles of JJ’s arms against her back, flexed with the effort of holding her, yet the young woman is showing no signs of the act being at all a problem.

Jesus Christ.

The smallest of smirks ghosts JJ’s lips. “You secure?”

All Emily can do is nod mutely in response.

As if holding JJ holding her without issue wasn’t impressive enough for Emily, the blonde climbs up the hill without much issue either, slowly traversing the slippery terrain with practiced ease. Her boots dig into the earth, taking long, solid steps on solid roots and patches of dried soil.

Emily swallows thickly, locking her hands together at JJ’s shoulder. “You’ve been holding out on me, Jennifer,” she finally speaks, voice husky and raw as her breath puffs out against the side of JJ’s face.

Through the dark, there’s the flash of bright white teeth as JJ grins. Her blue eyes are shining, practically glittering like stars when she glances down at Emily. “What can I say? I like keeping you on your toes, Agent Prentiss.”

They reach the top of the hill way too quickly for Emily’s liking, disappointment coursing through her veins as soon as JJ reaches solid, flat ground. She keeps her expression neutral as to not draw anyone else’s attention to her obvious dismay. Her hands loosen from around the blonde’s shoulder, body slumping slightly in JJ’s hold.

“You know...”

Brown eyes flicker back up to JJ’s face.

A small smirk remains on the younger woman’s face. “I think I better carry you to the ambulance,” she says softly, voice lifting at the end as if asking a question. “So you don’t put anymore pressure on that ankle until it gets looked at.”

A small smile spreads on Emily’s face, arms looping back around JJ’s neck as a response. Her smile only grows when the blonde squeezes her waist, relaxing as they disappear in the mass of people around the crime scene.

Luke watches both the women with narrowed eyes in attempt to ignore Tara not-so-subtly smirking smugly at him from the corner of his peripheral. He scowls over at the older woman, frown only deepening when she discreetly holds her hand out behind her back.

He digs around in his pockets, producing his wallet with a sigh. “Was it $20?” he mutters, opening up the faux leather and flicking through the bills.

“No,” Tara drawls out innocently, rocking back on her heels. “I believe you doubled the stakes last week. If I recall correctly, you said Emily would make the first move.” She grins in satisfaction when the young agent groans. “Double or nothing,” she mimics in a deep voice.

Releasing a hard sigh, Luke firmly plants two bills in the woman’s awaiting palm. “How did you know?” he asks. “That JJ would make the first move?”

Tara slides the money into her pocket with triumph, wide grin plastered on her face. She pats his bicep in mock sympathy, walking away with a smirk. “It’s all in the behavior, Agent Alvez. It’s all in the behavior.”

[jungcity]

bane of the devil. | iv

genre: vampire!jaehyun [angst | fluff | smut(?)]

pairings: jaehyun x female reader

note: bane of the devil deals with themes of physical, mental, and sexual abuse as well as toxic relationships. which may be upsetting for some readers. you are advised not to continue if you feel uncomfortable to these types of plots.

words: 5.4k

“oh, father,

i wanted her.

her pretty,

and her bad;

her chaos, and her bliss

in her mercy,

i learned how to lick

the edge of a knife

as she pressed

the blade against my throat

perhaps,

she was the winter

of my summer,

but, gods, i love all her seasons

she was the moon,

she was the sun,

the universe was in her eyes,

and she was mine.”

The weather was not pretty. Jaehyun’s hair was whipped back and forth by the squalling winds, a promise that the heavy rains would eventually fall sooner or later. He isn’t a person for pretty weather, himself. A good ray of sunlight would not scorch him to dust, but it would singe him nonetheless. The dimness of the clouds were fitting for his escapade today.

The busy workers scurried off the pavements, their shoes soundless by the slapping of winds into the trees. Jaehyun turned on one corner, the road has immediately died of sounds, except for the whistling winds and the thunders erupting from the heavens. Several white lights flashed in the skies from sharp lightning to a distant place. Jaehyun’s boots thudded against the sidewalk, the only sound accompanying him as he led himself to the same place he’s been visiting for the last ten years.

Eternal Rest Cemetery.

All of a sudden, as if on instinct, your face projected in his mind. Of how your fear almost drowned you the last time you were with Jaehyun in the same cemetery. Pleasant as your face was, the thought nonetheless irritated him, more than anything. You do not have the rights to barge in his mind unannounced. Not after last night.

You’re not a monster—

A bitter laugh resonated from this throat. Him? Not a monster? He wanted to ask you, then. He wanted to ask you whatever you know about being a monster. When your canines does not elongate, when you do not even feel a thirst for blood every time you are hungry, when you do not even feel the death inside you albeit being alive.

Yet a small part of him wanted to believe you.

He pushed the gates of the cemetery open, the old and rustic metals whistling. Dried leaves littered everywhere, a sign that the caretaker wasn’t doing his job particularly well. Jaehyun’s boots crunched the leaves underneath him as he walked to the tombstone of someone he does not truly know— but treasured nonetheless.

Louise Samantha Wong. He’s read the name over and over again. Yet the pang in his not beating heart never assuaged. Every visit was a hole augmenting in his rotten soul. In spite of that, he’s never missed a single day every year to visit the little girl he’d killed ten years ago.

Yesterday was the mark of her ten-year death anniversary. The wax from melted candles now enveloped the grasses. The flowers from her visitors have already wilted. Louise loved tulips, Jaehyun observed over the years. A little girl with good taste in flowers.

Finally, Jaehyun let go of his grip on the tulips he was holding and laid them neatly on her tombstone.

Jaehyun crouched, silent as a cat. “Hey.” He felt ridiculous as the words tumbled out of his mouth. Ten years of visiting her and he has not yet developed a proper way to greet her. It made him feel wicked than he already is.

Jaehyun’s hands strayed towards the tombstone, dried leaves flying towards the surface and to him. He picked up every leaf until the tomb was clean again.

“You’re probably wondering why a bastard sits next to your grave yet again,” he pronounced followed by a toneless chuckle. “It’s been ten years. You would’ve been fifteen by now.” Familiar thorns wrapped his throat, yet he knew he wouldn’t be able to cry. Jaehyun’s eyes would have been two stones with immobilized pupils if not for the vampire venom which coats his eyeballs. The same venom had also prevented his tear ducts to function.

“I’m sorry.” Jaehyun’s fingers shook, he needed to fist his hand to stop their shaking. “I know it’s useless now. I’ve already ended your life five years after your mother gave birth to you.” Vampire does not breath, Jaehyun could not release the tightness in his throat for that reason. “You would’ve been in high school now, slowly building up your dreams. Sorry for taking that away from you.” He pursed his lips. “The truth is… I’m not happy to be half-alive either.”

The wind rustled again, the dried leaves once again dominated the surface of her tomb. Jaehyun wiped it clean with his hands. “But that’s ungrateful of me, right? You died so I could live. Life’s cruel.”

Until now, Jaehyun couldn’t grasp the reality of a five-year old dying while an asshole such as him lives. And it’s the one reason why he wanted to kill Alena. She could’ve easily chosen Louise to live, instead she breathed life to Jaehyun. Being a vampire isn’t a pleasant life to live with, but at least it could give Louise the chance which Jaehyun took away from her.

Jaehyun, in his rotten and bitter life, never believed in vampires— or any mysterious creature at that. He lived a life tossing coins with the devil, yes, but he never would have thought that other kinds of evils lurked even in the busy streets of a city, ready to turn humans like them.

Jaehyun didn’t wish to become a monster even in second life, but Alena made him one.

And he won’t forgive her for that. She took away Jaehyun’s humanity, she took away everything from him. He could not even show himself to his friends, to his family. For the fear of being rejected.

What is so special to being immortal? How would you chase the wildness of life if the thrill has already been extinguished?

“Farewell, Louise.” Jaehyun finally stood up. The rain has started to fall, drenching the ground. Splatters of mud now starting to cover Louise’s tombstone. “I’ll see you again.” He turned on his heel and left.

There’s still one place he needs to go to.

—

“Long time no see, Lucas.”

A scream of horror echoed from you as Lucas stumbled on his feet and landed on the wooden floors of Madame Juana’s parlor. Before anyone could utter a word, the tall man stood and swing his fist to punch Jaehyun. But his vampire instincts are faster than that of a vampire hunter, so Lucas ended up colliding against the door.

“Years of practice yet you still could not—” Jaehyun’s mockery was halted as Madame Juana raised her hands. Both Lucas and Jaehyun’s knees thudded on the floors as the Madame forced them to kneel.

Veins from their temples started to protrude as they struggled to move their paralyzed body. You remained standing, hands covering your mouth. Everything happened too fast.

“Both of you will behave or else I’ll let you die with your brains splattering on my floors,” Madame Juana warned.

Jaehyun tried to move his eyes and glared at Madame. The two men dropped on the floors as the witch dropped her hands. Lucas almost heaved his lungs out, coughing painstakingly. As for Jaehyun, he regained his natural posture as if nothing happened. The attempt of Madame to squeeze Jaehyun’s air passage went in vain as vampires do not breathe.

“Fuck you, Jaehyun,” uttered Lucas, the color of his face slowly returning.

Jaehyun, as if in his own house, had gone straight to the bottle of liquor resting on the table near the window. He filled the glass to the brim and emptied the liquid in one gulp. As he did that, he raised his middle finger towards Lucas.

“What are you doing here?” Madame Juana regarded Jaehyun with a stoic expression, her red lips thinning.

Jaehyun set the glass back on the table with a loud thud, you were afraid the glass would shatter. “I’m making sure you won’t do anything to Y/N.”

Your eyes widened as he mentioned your name. He made it clear last night that he won’t join you into this ‘suicide mission’, so why is he here checking up on your well-being?

“And what do you think would I do to her?” Madame raised a brow.

Jaehyun shrugged, “I don’t know. Use her blood for your dark magic?”

“Madame does not engage herself to those kinds of magic, you asshole.” Lucas chided in before filling his own glass and gulping its content in a blink.

You chanced a glance at Madame Juana. And automatically gasped as you saw blood dripping from her nose. “Madame! Your nose!” You hurriedly fished your kerchief inside your pockets and handed it to her.

Lucas was beside her in an instant, but she waved her hand as if to say it was nothing. She took your kerchief and pressed it to the skin under her nose. “I’ll be back,” she said, giving the two boys one warning look before departing the room.

“Why are you even here, you piece of shit?” Jaehyun spat the words with enough contempt that made you turn your head towards him. The way his words strayed from his mouth would definitely trigger yet another brawl between them. Thankfully, Lucas stayed to where he was, ignoring Jaehyun’s vulgars.

“I am here to train, Y/N.” Lucas’ back was leaning against the table, his arms crossed against his chest.

What claim does Jaehyun has to ask that question as if he wasn’t the one who just jumped in and showed himself uninvited to your meeting with Madame Juana?

Yet the mention of your training made you decide to finally sit at last. You didn’t meet Jaehyun’s gaze as you sat, for the fear of finding what have been lurking in those chocolate brown eyes once you look. Nevertheless, you felt his eyes boring into yours as if judging you.

“The fuck are you talking about?”

With that, you glimpse at Jaehyun. He asked the words while looking at you. His brows were furrowed, dissent etched on his face.

Lucas scoffed, “Why would I elaborate?”

Jaehyun propped his one leg above another while he waved his hand. “Oh, I know. You will train her for Alena, right?”

When none of you answered, Jaehyun let out a loud laugh.

“What’s funny?” Your irritated question. He wasn’t even invited to this meeting, yet he came, punched your trainer right in the jaw and laughed at your plan as if to mock you. “I know you disagree about everything, Jaehyun. But be careful mocking me now. I might kill you myself after I’m finished with Alena.”

Jaehyun leaned, his eyes enticing you. “You’re sexy whenever you threaten my life like that.”

All the blood from your body once again traveled to your cheeks. He did not just say it in front of Lucas, right? But the snort from Lucas told that it was real. Jaehyun truly embarrassed you in front of a cute boy.

“Is that what your vampire clan teaches you, Jung?” Lucas needed to pursed his lips together to stop himself from laughing, but after trying so hard, he finally let it go and howled.

“And what does your VHC a.k.a Virgin Hunters Corporation teaches you?” was Jaehyun’s sharp reiteration.

Lucas’ howls ceased in an immediate stop then, and now looking at Jaehyun with daggers in his eyes. “It’s Vampire Hunters Corporation, Jaehyun.”

“Yeah, convince me otherwise.” Jaehyun placed his feet on the coffee table then. “Have you ever been laid?”

“Jaehyun?!” You widened your eyes at him in warning. If you were drinking something right now, you would’ve probably choked on it already by his question. You would never afford it if Lucas would back down in training you. Turning your head to the tall man, who stood with his face red only a meter away from you, you spoke. “I’m sorry Lucas—”

“What about him backing down on this plan? I could train you myself.”

There was literally a vein that ticked in your neck as you snapped your head to Jaehyun’s way. He, himself, looked taken aback by the words he voiced out.

“I mean— no. I won’t. If you don’t pay me.”

You rolled your eyes at him and focused your sight on Lucas instead, who looked puzzled as he never had an idea that Jaehyun has read your mind. “I’m sorry, Lucas. I assume you and Jaehyun have already met, by the way you’re talking to each other right now.” You let out a nervous chuckle, “He could really be a nuisance, right?”

“Hey!” Jaehyun stood up, ready to bite you when the door opened, revealing Madame Juana.

“Let’s get back to business, shall we?” She waved her fingers, long nails glinting.

“How about Jaehyun? He couldn’t stay. He’s Alena’s fiancé. And why is he even here?”

You gulped as Lucas stated the words. It seems like everyone knows about it except you. Well, until last night.

“I’m trying to severe the betrothal.” For once, Jaehyun spoke with solemnity, throwing away his haughty visage.

“C’mon, Jung. She’s the most powerful vampire today. Why would you do that?” Lucas’ words were laced with sarcasm that bit on your own skin. The reminder of Alena’s omnipotence, once again, made you uncomfortable and cowardly.

“Do I have to explain myself to you? Absolutely not.”

Madame raised her hand, stopping Lucas from speaking. The witch turned her attention towards the vampire across from you, then. “Will you join us, then?”

It’s a no. Jaehyun— beyond doubt— would decline. He assured that he wanted nothing to do with this mission. Yet a little ember of hope winked inside you as you waited for his answer.

“Not exactly join you. I don’t trust anyone.” He looked at you, and he remained looking at you when he spoke his next words, “But I could help you get close to Alena.”

“Perfect!” The loud clap from Madame Juana startled you. She was flashing her teeth through a smile that could reach her ears. “And I guess… it’s better if Y/N trains with a vampire hunter. And apply the things she’s acquired to a real vampire.”

It’s self-explanatory. Whatever you would learn from Lucas, you would apply to Jaehyun. It’s smart, it’s wise. But it does not make you any less troubled.

Lucas is a cute boy. You might have a little crush on him now. And Jaehyun… well… Jaehyun is beautiful. Having them as your mentors made the butterflies in your stomach tense. Not to mention the fact that they clearly despised each other.

“Y/N?”

You blinked, and saw the three of them looking at you as if anticipating an answer. Right. You had spaced out. “What is it?”

“We’ve just discussed that perhaps it’s better if you’d travel to my villa at dawn.” What?! “Don’t worry, my love. It’s located at the foot of the mountain. I have all the means for your better training in that house.”

You fiddled with your fingers, unsure of what to say. “Can’t we… train here? I mean, I appreciate your generosity Madame. But… my brother. He’d worry.”

“Oh no, darling. It’s better to train with the nature as your company. I know you could make up a reason for your brother. Am I right?” She raised both her perfectly trimmed brows.

“Yes. But—”

“I think we should give her a bit of time. This is all new to Y/N,” Jaehyun chimed in, looking straight at the witch.

“We don’t have the time. The ball’s in three months.” Lucas glared at Jaehyun.

Ball? You looked at the three of them, waiting for an explanation. It isn’t what you think it is, right?

“The ball. Every year, the vampire clans and the vampire hunters commemorate their peace treaty by having a lavish party.” Jaehyun’s eyes were focused on you now. “Yes, Y/N. There is a peace treaty between our nature, and theirs.” He nudged his head towards Lucas.

“This plan. It’s breaking the treaty, then?” You spoke with careful tones, as if frightened that someone with the wrong ears might hear them.

Suddenly, everything feels wrong. Everything feels fraught with danger than it already is.

“Yes, Y/N.” Madame leaned on her seat, “It is.”

You pursed your lips together, uneasiness spreading like wild fire in your chest. “Why are we doing this, then?” You narrowed your brows. “Why do you plan something that is against the treaty?

The tall man blinked and glanced at Madame. His crystal clear eyes shining. “Y/N, this treaty isn’t really a peace treaty.” He cleared his throat and sat on the remaining chair beside Madame. “Vampires have been murdering helpless humans for millennia. That resulted for someone named Diego Asdalis to create a vampire hunting association to protect the people. For hundreds of years the two sides have fought. Yet fifty-years ago, after too much bloodshed, the new leader of Vampire Hunters Corporation and an elder from a vampire clan who looks after all the clans in town made a treaty.”

Every words, you tattooed to your brain. As Lucas explained, you could not help but become fascinated by the informations. It seems like you haven’t gathered much about vampires even after all those years of study.

“It doesn’t mean the vampires and the hunters suddenly agreed for a friendly relationship. We weren’t chummy to each other. The treaty holds one rule only, if the vampire kills a human, the hunter would have all the rights to kill that vampire,” Lucas continued.

You supposed that’s exactly why Lucas hadn’t tried to kill Jaehyun the first time he saw him. And vice versa. There is a treaty that somehow separates their hatred for each other.

And that means VHC isn’t the society you would dare mess up with. If that treaty was factual, then the vampire hunters in town has all the strength and weapons to kill a vampire. That kind of audacity and stoutness was commendable.

“That’s the loophole.”

Three pairs of eyes stared at Jaehyun when he suddenly spoke.

“What about those who were turned into a vampire? What rule protects them?”

Sympathy isn’t something Jaehyun would accept with open arms. Despite that, you could not help but feel sympathetic towards him. His question was meet for the current conversation and to his situation as well. Who, and what protects those who has been turned without their consent?

“If the human presented himself willingly to the vampire, then that is out of our protection. We protect humans, but not against their choices,” Lucas explained. When Jaehyun did not speak, he shot up a brow. “Why? Were you turned against your will, vampire?”

Jaehyun’s eyes were lifeless as he stared at Lucas. “No.”

No? He told you a different tale last night. Alena turned him. The look of his face wasn’t fitting for someone who had willingly asked a vampire to make him one of them. You kept your mouth shut nonetheless. It is not your story to tell.

“Then you’re out of our shields,” Lucas faintly shrugged.

“You wouldn’t be able to do anything, anyways.” Then Jaehyun stood up and walked straight to where the liquor was located.

“What did you say?” Lucas, himself, bolted upright. Ready to pounce on Jaehyun at any given moment. But for the second time, Madame held her hand and ordered him to sit down. Which he gladly obliged without a word.

“Y/N, I’ll give you until tomorrow to decide.” Madame smiled at you. It was warm. For the first time since you arrived, the pressure on your shoulders vanished.

Until tomorrow. What would tomorrow unfold, then?

—

“You gotta pay for me,” Jaehyun announced as you both wait for a bus to pass by. You rolled your eyes and pretended you didn’t hear him.

As you looked at your feet, you could feel Jaehyun observing you. Waiting for you to answer. After leaving the premise of Madame Juana’s mansion, you feel more discomfited. You thought the discussion would go smoothly. But now you feel weak— left with the agitation of being utterly mortal more than ever.  

“Cat got your tongue?” Then he peered at your face, a stunning yet annoying smirk plastered on his face.

“I don’t talk to strangers,” you muttered. His enraged declaration about your status to each other’s life last night was still clear in your mind.

Jaehyun faked a hurt expression. “That’s awful.”

“You’re awful, Jaehyun.” Then you stared at the road instead, praying that a bus would be merciful enough to stop by so you could get away with him already and pretend that the both of you do not live in the same house.

You instantly felt conscious when he didn’t speak. He’s awful for saying you weren’t friends. But you are awful for saying that he is awful. That does not sound right. After heaving a deep sigh, you decided to finally look at him.

“I’m sorry.”

You said at the same time. Jaehyun laughed, while you turned away from him.

Then he cleared his throat, “Look, I’m not gonna apologize for saying we weren’t friends—” He held up both his hands when you sharply glared at him. “— because we really aren’t,” he added with a mischievous smile. When you didn’t reply, he pressed on. “C’mon, Y/N. We could work on that.”

“What do you mean?” You tried your best to sound disinterested as possible.

“We could be friends.”

For a moment, you were speechless. Is being friends with Jaehyun really important to you that it has straight away made your heart flutter as the offer slid out of his mouth? It’s ridiculous, but his statement made you smile.

“That sounds… great.”

“I’m not saying instantly—”

“I know that, Jaehyun.” You rolled your eyes to what seem like a first time of cutting him off. “Baby steps.” You pronounced before stretching out your hand to him.

Jaehyun stared at your hand for a moment, before he stretched out his and grabbed yours. His hand was cold, as expected of his nature. But his smile was warm when he said, “Baby steps.”

The ride back home was silent. In a comforting way. You really didn’t need to talk to Jaehyun, nor did you feel compelled to.

The both of you walked the streets. Familiar yellow lights from the streetlights dominated the whole path. The smell of rainwater on the ground still fresh in your nose.

“Are you sure about this, Y/N?” Jaehyun blurted out all of a sudden.

Your grip on your bag as well as to your plates tightened. He needed not mention what did he actually mean for you to understand. As you stared ahead of you, your mouth twisted and you let your mind search for something to answer him.

“I don’t know.” Yes, it was ignominious to admit your heart. But as of now, you really do not know. Madame Juana’s offers feels overwhelming, like she wanted you to say yes to everything she’s laying out for you. However, you know that this is your best shot at finding justice for your parents.

“You don’t have to—” Jaehyun’s words were cut off, his steps drawing into a halt.

You narrowed your brows at him, but he was looking straight at the figure beneath the streetlight. Your eyes followed his line of sight. Only stopping when you noticed a tall figure standing under the streetlight. You have not the slightest inkling of who might be him, but his aura alone sent a shiver down your spine.

“Run, Y/N. But do not run home. Run elsewhere. Far from here. Drop your bags, drop your plates. I will give them back to you once I’m finished,” Jaehyun ratted, eyes never leaving the man from the distance.

There wasn’t a need to tell you that the man was someone dangerous. The deviltry in him was stinking. It was death.

Jaehyun wanted you to run, but your feet felt leaden. They seem to froze onto the asphalt.

“Jaehyun, who is he?”

He didn’t answer, but his eyes were on you now. Every breath was agonizing as you feel the man’s presence, ready to attack if you do little as to move an inch.

“Run, Y/N.” Jaehyun’s irises had changed their color. From dark-brown eyes to red. His canines are elongating. Black veins from his temple protruding.

You took a step back, startled and frightened by his appearance. Finally, you felt your feet moved. So without a second thought, you dig in your shoes against the asphalt, your bag and your plates falling.

And run you did.

As you sprinted far away from Jaehyun, a demoniac snarl echoed from behind you. Goosebumps covered your whole body, shivers ran down your spine. The sound wasn’t human at all.

You continued to run, but the highway seemed so far away. When you feel as if your knees would collapse, you drew in a halt. You pressed your palms on both your knees, steadying your breath and the wild beating of your heart.

You do not dare glance behind you, for the fear of finding out what’s happening to Jaehyun. You’ve ran as far as you could, but the street leads to one path only and you don’t feel as if you’ve ran far enough to be safe.

“Shit!” You hissed, as you stumbled and fell on your knees, nearly kissing the ground. Just when you really need to get away, this is what happens to you. Nevertheless, you quickly stood and ignored the throbbing pain on your knees.

“Y/N!”

Jaehyun.

“Run!”

Do not glance behind you. But you did. Then you saw the man sprinting towards you, his eyes red like Jaehyun’s, fangs elongated and ready to bite you. You forced your feet to run again, but the vampire has caught your hair, gripping it tightly as to remove your scalp.

“Let go of me!” You shouted, grunted.

Pain lances through your hair as he continued to grip on your strands, but it was short-lived as Jaehyun dashed towards you. In a blink of an eye, the two vampires were rolling on the ground, with you kissing the earth at last by the impact of the vampire’s pull on your hair.

The impact has blurred your vision, spots of reds dominating your sight. Something metallic coated your teeth. Blood. Suddenly, the vampire ceased to move, his face turning to your direction, nose sniffing the air.

Jaehyun stared at your direction, too. His eyes were clear as he looked at you. You gulped and stood on your feet despite the pulsating pain in your head. But you fell once again as the other vampire pounced on you.

His eyes were wild, frantic even. His teeth razor sharp. If your heart could explode, it probably would. You gathered all your willpower to thrash, to wiggle out of his body pressing you down on the ground. You will never die like this.

But then saliva started to pool at the corners of his mouth. Without a second thought, he plunged into you. You shut your eyes, trying to make your way out of his grasp.

“You fucking—!” Your words were halted as you heard a gurgling sound. Warm liquid dripped on your face, on your body. The smell of blood coated your nostrils. Then a body fell on top of you.

You wanted to shout. To push the body away. But as you saw Jaehyun standing, a heart on his palms, your strength was taken out of your body.

His eyes were emotionless as he looked at you. But he pushed the body off yours with his foot. You scrambled away from the dead vampire, clutching your chest as if you could hold your heart and stop it from beating wildly.

“Jaehyun…” you breathed at last. The heart was still dripping blood from his hand. Flecks of blood covered his face, his shirt bloody too.

“Go home,” was all he uttered before grabbing the man by the back of his collar and dashing away into the night.

Leaving you bloody, scared, and unmoving.

—

Pools of blood immediately wash the tiled floors red as Jaehyun dropped the body of the vampire. The woman in front of him only regarded the body with her dark and curious eyes. Her long and silver hair catches the moonlight as she stood up from the made dais at the far center of her mansion’s hall.

“Long time no see, my love.” Her lips stretched out into a luscious smile, crimson lips glinting.

“Fuck you,” Jaehyun uttered with enough hatred to make the woman wince, yet he knew that she’s devoid of any emotion for that.

She stood up from her throne, barefoot trudging the cold floors towards Jaehyun. “Is that how you greet your fiancée?” She asked with doleful eyes, before caressing Jaehyun’s bloody cheek. He felt her fingers ran down the side of his face to his jaw in a very, very languid manner.

If he could strangle her right here, right now, he would. But Alena is a powerful vampire. Despite Jaehyun’s own peculiarities and power, he does not meet the level of ability the leader of the Detritius clan possesses. It would be suicide if he dared wrap his hands around her neck.

Alena sucked the same finger, making sure Jaehyun would be able to see every move, would be able to hear every slurp.

Then the woman’s nose scrunched up, “Not as tasty as yours.”

Jaehyun’s jaw twitched, the same hatred he’s been having for ten years towards the woman in front of him bubbled up in his throat, forcing him to retch.

“Stop fucking around, Alena.”

“Fucking around?” Her voice was laced with a sweet venom, “How could I? If my fiancé does not want to marry me, anymore?”

He held her wrist, his grip tight. “I don’t love you.”

“Stupid!”

Jaehyun’s cheek seared from the slap. He shut his eyes, gathering all his patience. He’s been through with the same scenario for a lot of times that it did not surprise him to see Alena’s outrage anymore. If he could bear scars, or any mark from his wounds, it would definitely stand as a proof that he’s gone through worst in the hands of the vampire.

“You are a fool, Jaehyun!” She bared her fangs, her dark eyes turning red. However, in the blink of an eye, her outrage slipped to a pleading expression. Her eyes shone, “I’m sorry, my love. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.” And then she was grasping Jaehyun’s cheeks, his body, fisting her palms on his shirt.

“Stop.” He pushed her away, “Stop, Alena. We’re done.”

Jaehyun did not waste any second to turn his back on her and walk away. But before he could open the door, Alena’s voice boomed in the hall.

“Y/N.” Alena laughed her infamous poison laugh, “Be careful, Jaehyun. I know where she lives. Treaty be damned, I won’t even blink once I haul out her heart with my own hands.”

Jaehyun felt as if he was punched right in the guts as he heard the threat. There was no doubt in it, Alena could kill you. Anytime. Anywhere. Even under your roof. A foreign wrath enveloped him, so intense that for a moment, he wanted to kill Alena. Once and for all and get everything over with.

“Do not touch her,” he warned, back still facing Alena.

“Don’t force me.”

In times like this, Jaehyun appreciates his vampire abilities. For like an arrow from a bow, his hands were already wrapped around Alena’s neck. He gritted his teeth, baring his fangs, “I will kill you myself.”

Alena laughed, pushing Jaehyun away with her finger, a movement to show her supremacy. “I know you.” She whispered against Jaehyun’s mouth. “You can’t.” Then she flicked her tongue out to his lower lip. “So do your job, Jaehyun. If you want her unharmed.”

Jaehyun shut his eyes. Your smiling face, with your hands stretched out to him flashed in his mind. Baby steps, you said. He wanted to cherish those smiles, he wanted to protect you. And that’s exactly what he would do once he’s finished dealing with Alena tonight.

A venomous chortle escaped from Alena’s mouth as Jaehyun sank on his knees, craning his neck to one side to give enough access to the woman. The same pain washed through him as Alena’s fangs embedded on his flesh.

After what felt like forever, Alena pulled away, wiping her mouth clean with the back of her hand. Then she kissed Jaehyun with a ferocity of a hungry animal. Her robes slid down the tiled floors. She does not even care about the carnage of the dead vampire lying on her floors as she slid all her undergarments off her body— displaying her naked frame before Jaehyun once again.

“Now, my love, shall we start?”

[komahinasecretexchange]

Title: One in a Million

Author: @hadrian-pendragons

For: @fieldofsunflowers8

Pairings/Characters: KomaHina, background SDR2 cast

Rating/Warnings: T+, mentions of dissociation, self-harm, amputation, self-worth issues

Prompt: post SDR2 hurt/comfort, relationship angst

Author’s notes: I really enjoy exploring Komaeda’s mindset and Hinata’s stubbornness. I tried to mix some of your likes together, and I hope you enjoy!

Hajime stepped into Nagito’s cottage. Exhaustion pulled at his limbs, the kind of tiredness that only came with knowing several hyperactive former-terrorists in an enclosed setting. He’d been working all day, preparing to wake up the remainder of their group—some had been easier to wake up than others, and not everyone was being released from the pods at once. He didn’t think any of them could deal with multiple alarmed, traumatized, possibly insane classmates at once. So, one at a time it was.

He paused beside the lump on the bed, where Nagito was hiding underneath a mass of blankets, quiet and still and quite possibly dead, if not for the breathing Kamukura’s observation skills picked up for him.

Not a pattern that accompanied sleep… but not one that acknowledged his presence either.

A month ago, Nagito had woken up. He’d emerged from the pod with a fractured smile, looked at his arm—no, her arm, and it terrified and nauseated him to see his classmates wake up only to find a part of themselves missing and replaced by her, as if she held some twisted claim on their very being—and asked if someone could break it for him.

None of them went that far, and thankfully neither did Nagito, but the arm itself barely functioned. It didn’t move properly, didn’t react like Nagito wanted, though it was again only Hajime’s red eye that picked up on the odd tells that portrayed Nagito’s frustration. The next person they woke was Mikan, and despite the way she flipped between episodes of silent dissociation and a fake, bubbly smile, she put herself to work managing their…ailments. Mikan was the ultimate nurse, but she might as well have been their doctor, with how much she pushed herself to learn and create for their sakes.

She, with Hajime and Kamukura’s help, had managed to remove the arm. Souda had taken one look at them and gone missing, though Sonia said he was locked up in one of the mechanic labs on the other islands. Hajime had just wondered when Souda had learned how to boat.

It had been several weeks since. Nagito was still arm-less and hiding in his dark cottage, head buried under the blanket except for a tuft of his wild, white hair. Hajime sighed and pulled up the desk chair. He sat backwards, crossed his arms over the back, and leveled the lump under the blanket with a mismatched stare.

“Mikan wants you back at the clinic for a check-in and more therapy.”

No answer. He’d come to expect this. Mikan had been coming here herself to make sure he was healing properly and that the wound would be fit enough for a prosthetic… whenever they got to that point. Hajime thought it would take a while.

“Sonia says Souda’s working on something that might help.”

She hadn’t told them any details, probably because Souda hadn’t told her any—which he found bizarre. He accepted it, nonetheless. Ever since waking up, they’d all been different. Less innocent. Dulled, like mud in water. He wished, sometimes, he was the kind of person that could clear that water with but a few words and his will. But life was harsher than that.

“You should come eat with us today.”

Nagito had been quieter. A lot less hard to read, when his expressions were paper-thin and entirely too broken underneath, even if he still held onto the part of him that was perfectly-fine-if-totally-insane. Nagito also insisted that he stay away from everyone else. He didn’t say why, but Hajime remembered the comments in the simulation. He remembered exactly what Nagito thought of himself.

He remembered the despair disease. Nagito’s feverish demands for him to leave. Hajime still kicked himself for not realizing exactly what he’d meant.

He remembered Nagito’s body, and the trial that followed, and the overwhelming despair toward how someone could do that to themselves.

“Nagito—”

“I can’t do that, Hinata-kun.”

It was a soft, breathy, lighthearted tone. Nagito was the only one that still used last names among them. Hajime hated it.

“Can’t eat? Or can’t look at me?”

“Hmm… I think you might be too much for my eyes.”

Translation: I’m not worth enough to even allow myself to look at you.

Hajime clenched his hands around his elbows and bit his tongue to stop the biting reply that immediately wanted to slip off of his tongue.

“You’re wrong about that.”

“Am I?”

“You’re not alone here, Nagito.”

Silence once more. Hajime had enough. He stood from the chair and returned it to its place, then sat on the edge of the bed. He placed his hand on Nagito’s head and threaded his fingers through the soft, tangled hair he could get to. He tried to be careful, but Nagito still tensed at the touch.

“Stop that.”

“You’re being really stupid, you know that?”

“Why stay, then? Surely, you have someone you’d rather give your attention to.”

“What makes you think you know what goes on in my head?”

“Stop it.”

“You really think I don’t want to be here?”

“Shut up.”

Hajime grit his teeth, “Nagito, you know why I’m here.”

He jerked his hand away the moment Nagito shifted. The white-haired man sat up quickly, harshly, unworried about the bandages covering one side of his body, and reached out. Hajime didn’t fight it when Nagito grabbed him by the shirt with his single hand and almost, almost glared at him.

“Why?” He asked, voice shaky and alarmed and afraid. Hajime hated how much hurt he saw in Nagito’s eyes.

Nagito didn’t look away, though, and that meant a lot to Hajime. Both because he could barely look at his own reflection, at his two-colored eyes, without feeling nauseous, and because it meant Nagito was actually listening.

“I don’t give a damn about hope or despair, Nagito.” Hajime said, low and steady, letting the words he’s really wanted to say sink in. “None of that means anything to me. I care about people. I care about you. And I’m not going anywhere just because you think I should.”

Nagito’s face blanks. It’s almost similar to that unreadable expression. But there’s a glow in his eyes.

“How can you say that?”

Translation: You’re wrong about me. About us.

“Nagito,” Hajime reached up and placed his hands over Nagito’s. It was trembling and cold. Nagito was always cold. “We’ve all been through hell. We’ve all come back. We’re not going anywhere. I’m not going anywhere.” He tugged on Nagito’s hand, and Nagito let go without a fight. “You’re not an exception to that, ever. Not while I’m around.”

Nagito closed his eyes and tilted forward. Hajime wrapped an arm around his side and let that mess of hair flop over his shoulder, Nagito burying his face into Hajime’s shirt.

“I can’t believe that.”

“I’ll just have to prove it to you, then.”

“You won’t be able to.”

“I’m not convinced.”

“Hajime.”

Hajime closed his mouth with a click.

Nagito took a shuddering breath.

“I can’t do this,” he says. “I don’t know how. I don’t know how to stop. I don’t know how to not expect everyone to die. Everything to end. I don’t even know how long I have left.” He laughed. It was more of a wheeze. “I don’t know how to believe you.”

Hinata buried his face into Nagito’s hair. He closed his eyes and sighed. He was getting used to being tired. “I’ll just have to show you, then. We can do it together. You can learn.”

Nagito doesn’t speak again. Hinata just keeps him close, arms wrapped around his waist, trying to give him as much of his body heat as possible, because he really hated how cold Nagito always felt.

Nagito doesn’t agree, but he doesn’t kick him out or start cursing at him, either.

It’s a step. There were a million more to go, but Hinata was willing to crawl beside him if it meant Nagito could eventually stand with him.

[drabbledragon]

Linktober: ReDead

This one definitely falls more onto the creepy side of all my fics, so proceed with caution and make sure to read the warnings.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26749021/chapters/66053455 Summary: The Links go searching for a missing Sheikah, but they should really be more cautious about what lies in the dark.

Warnings: Mentions of blood and violence, but if you are squeamish about either topic, I highly suggest you skip this chapter

Day 8: ReDead

“This is the place.”

The Links slowly came to a stop at Time’s words, and curiously looked towards the large tomb looming over them. It was one of many in the large graveyard, and it was nothing compared to the Royal Family’s Tomb that resided just a little ways away, but it still held a general air of creepiness and dread, and its qualities only seemed to be amplified by the waning moon hanging above Kakariko Village Graveyard. 

“Why would a little girl want to run in here? This place is creepy as hell.” Legend commented from the side, but his tone seemed to be leaning more towards concern rather than his usual pragmatic self.

“People do things for inexplicable reasons.” Was all the Hero of Time said before taking a step forward and pulling on the tomb’s doors. 

“Well, jeeze, Old Man; if you’re just gonna be cryptic about it, don’t bother answering.”

The nine of them ventured down the stone stairs in tense silence, with the clack of their boots being the only sound within the narrow space. There was no light, as expected, so a few of them were able to pull out their lanterns and illuminate the path for those who couldn’t; but no matter how much the glow of warm light filled their surroundings, they just couldn’t seem to get rid of the oppressing chill that filled the empty air.

They all startled at the sound of a high - pitched screech, but before any of the heroes could so much as draw their respective weapons, Time had already taken care of the threat, releasing the arrow from his Hero’s Bow in one smooth motion towards the source of the sound. He didn’t even flinch when a Keese fell in front of his feet.

He drew in a sharp breath. “ Not good.”

Turning on his heels, he regarded each of the heroes with a serious look. “ This tomb is infested with monsters, and judging by how long the girl’s been in here, I fear that she’s in grave danger, if not already dead. We’ll need to split up into pairs to find her, with one group of three; the more area we cover, the sooner we’ll be able to find her.”

An excited Hyrule looped an arm around Wild’s and eagerly proclaimed, “ Ooo I choose Wild! He’s my travelling buddy!”

“And I wanna be in a group of three with Sky and Four!” Wind chimed in next, with both his partners smiling at his enthusiasm.

“I’m going with the Old Man,” Twilight stepped forward and slid his gaze knowingly to Time. “ We’re both good at filling in each other’s weak spots.”

Legend casted a reluctant glance towards the remaining hero and rolled his eyes. “ Ugh, no one else wants to partner up with Cityboy? I’ll give you 50 Rupees if you do.”

“Excuse me, I am worth way more than 50 Rupees!” Warriors squawked from right beside him.

“I’m giving them a discount because of how annoying you are.”

“Enough.” Time’s voice had boomed over all of them, and all their banter immediately came to a stop. “ We’re all on a time - sensitive mission, so I don’t need any of you acting up because you’re too childish to work together. You’re Chosen Heroes, so start acting like it.”

Then with a calming breath, he motioned to the various corridors down the room and continued, “ We’ll split ourselves among the rooms here: there’s not many, but they do branch out for quite a bit. Be on the lookout for a seven year - old Sheikah girl with white hair and red eyes, and if you see any monsters, don’t hesitate to kill them.”

The nine of them were used to killing monsters of all kinds, so the other heroes didn’t understand why a cold chill seemed to run up their spines at their leader’s words.

Wild rose a hand high into the air and spoke when Time looked to him. “ What do we do for a signal? Like how do we let the others know if we found the girl or if we’re in a lot of trouble?”

A good question, the Hero of Time thought, and then after a moment of consideration, he finally answered back, “ A whistle: one long one for if you found her and three short ones for if you’re in danger.”

With a collective nod, the groups went their separate ways, each of their steps careful and calculated as they disappeared through old and crumbling arches.

The Hero of Time and Hero of Twilight gradually made their way down the stone corridor they had chosen: a narrow one that was situated towards the back of the main room. It was cold and dark in the small passageway, and the ranchhand tried his best not to be bothered by it, but he just couldn’t help the goosebumps that prickled all over his skin. 

“Transform.”

Time’s command had caught him off guard for a second, but he quickly shook his head and assumed his Twili form. Hands and feet became paws and a thick coat of fur encased his body like a blanket, seeming to block out the stagnant cold that came through invisible vents. He lifted his muzzle into the air and perked at the scents that wafted around like the auroras in the Northern Lights.

Twilight had once explained it to his protege as following a beacon of light that couldn’t be seen. The flicker of light might be in a sea of other lights that tried to drown out its color, but with enough focus and dedication, the Ordonian could zero in on his target and keenly follow it without being overwhelmed.

A small huff of breath escaped his mouth as he lowered his head. There was Time’s scent right next him, smelling distinctly of forests and pines, and then Twilight’s own scent of pumpkins and hay, Wild’s, Hyrule’s, Legend’s, Warriors’s, Sky’s, Four’s, and Wind’s scents lingering back towards the corridor, and then an unfamiliar scent that smelled like …

With a sharp bark, he called for Time to follow him further down the corridor, all the while pursuing the scent like a lifeline. It was sharp and distinct, smelling like home - cooked meals and a rainy day's mud; if there was a universal scent for a seven year - old child, that would be the one.

As he bounded from stone to stone, he idly wondered what was going on with his mentor: it wasn’t unusual for Time to be strict and demanding at times but the way he carried himself when he spoke to the group … it just wasn’t like him. In more serious situations, he wasn’t as stern to the other heroes as he is now, and if they were lucky, he would even jab at a few of them,  commenting on how scared they looked when they faced worse; but now he was more rigid and harsh towards them, not allowing any of them to go against his word.

Maybe it had something to do with being in a tomb? Or with them having to find a small child? From the brief snippets Malon had told him about Time’s childhood, Twilight knew it wasn’t good: he had lost dear friends, had to give up a peaceful life, and had been forced to sleep for seven years in order to be worthy of the Master Sword. It had been a rough adventure, but the eldest hero persevered regardless, and maybe that’s why all of them looked up to Time so much.

Twilight trotted to a stop once he reached a large room, and quickly transformed back into a Hylian.

“She’s here,” He claimed, but his brows quickly furrowed. “ but she’s … all over the place; her scent’s in every bit of this room, and there’s no definite direction I can say.”

All he received back was a grunt and a low, “ Split up and find her.”

Just before Time was about to head over to one end of the room, he paused and looked to his protege when the latter was offering him a lantern.

“It’ll help you look,” Twilight smiled, and when the elder hero offered him a questioning gaze, he shrugged and added in, “ I’ll just use my Twili form to find her.”

With a nod of thanks, the two went off in opposite directions.

The room was worse, in Twilight’s opinion: it was colder, mustier, and just seemed to hold this general air of foreboding. The limited stone tiles he could see with his wolf senses were all covered in mold and weeds, where the latter was slowly dying from the lack of sunlight in the tomb. It may have just been Twilight’s overactive imagination, but he could have sworn that he heard a few moans in different areas of the room, and his ears flicked eagerly towards each call. The sounds were inhuman, that was for sure, and he wouldn’t expect little Keese to make a noise like that, so that meant it was either the little girl they were looking for or … something else entirely.

He paused when he caught sight of a figure huddled in the corner, and nearly yipped out when he smelled the Sheikah’s scent practically surrounding their form. He eagerly transformed back into a Hylian and crouched down, intent on gaining the little girl’s trust before alerting his mentor of his discovery. 

In a delicate, soothing voice, he quietly called out, “ Hey, I’m a hero here to save you. You can call me ‘Twilight’.”

He waited patiently for an answer, but when the girl didn’t even so much as look at him, he decided to take a tentative step forward and call out again, “ Your mom and dad are worried about you, and they want you to come back home. Do you think you can follow me so I can show you the way out?”

Again, no answer, but that didn’t bother the Ordonian in the slightest: he was used to dealing with frightened children all the time, and he would wait hours if he had to if it meant Colin would peacefully fall asleep after a nightmare or if Beth would stop crying and tell him what was wrong. 

He was quiet, breathing steady breaths as his eyes stayed trained on the child, hands clasped together as his arms rested easily on crouched knees; and all at once, all hell broke loose.

The girl - no, the creature - suddenly turned around and regarded him with piercing red eyes, ones that made him inexplicably freeze him to his spot. He inwardly panicked as he tried to move his arms or legs or tilt his head but he couldn’t, and the only thing he even had slight control of was his hysterical breaths. The creature then reached for him with long spindly arms and knocked him back, straddling the hero as it let out a low - pitched groan.

The next thing he felt was long bony fingers raking into his chest and digging harshly into his skin. He was acutely aware of every single claw that dragged purposefully across his ribcage and the longer the process continued, the more he could feel pain burning through his body and blood bubbling to the top. He wanted to shove that thing off him, give into his Twili self and sink his fangs into that creature’s neck but he couldn’t do any of that; his body remained still and paralyzed, eyes glued to the spot where he had first locked eyes with the creature.

He was starting to become dizzy now, the ceiling above him swirling in a mix of the blacks and grays he could pick out, and he could feel his stomach roil with unease. His skin prickled at the sudden drop in temperature he felt but the slow, oozing liquid that trickled down his chest and throat seemed to provide him with a little warmth. He was shivering, he was sure of it, but the all - consuming emptiness that was slowly filling his head was starting to disconnect his thoughts in favor of soothing him in a sudden calm.

He’d felt this way before, hadn’t he? It was back on his adventure when he defeated … uh … Rusl, right? Wait, no, that was his mentor - or he thought it was his mentor. He couldn’t put a name to a face right now, or rather he couldn’t really remember anything about anyone right now. All he could think about was a dull pain echoing throughout his body, one that he couldn’t even explain the source of.

He was tired, and the uncontrollable drooping of his eyelids only confirmed his feelings. He thought he was on a mission right now, but he couldn’t recall for who, with who, or the entire purpose of the thing. A quick nap would fix him right up, so he gave into the darkness closing in on him, and let his body go lax.

The next he was aware of was a cold bottle pressed to his lips and a hushed voice soothing him.

“C’mon, Pup, have a sip.” It coaxed, and when he couldn’t do what the voice was asking, it added in a more strict tone, “ Listen, it’s going down your throat one way or another.”

And so he took a tentative sip, and recoiled when the liquid caused a fiery pain to burn down his throat. He immediately tried to turn his head away from the source but a rough hand caught his chin and forced his lips open where the cool liquid was promptly dumped into. The burning agony coursed up and down his throat unheedingly, and if he could compare this with the heat of the Goron Mines, the thing he was forced to drink was definitely hotter. He laid there for a few moments, gasping for air and writhing in agony, while a soft voice from beside him kept apologizing and mentioning that he would die if he didn’t drink it.

The pain disappeared after a few excruciating moments, and in its place came a blossom of warmth in his chest and throat. It was a welcomed feeling, and its very presence was enough to lull him to sleep, but a sharp pinch on his cheek sent him reeling back to reality.

“Not yet. The traveller’s coming and I want him to get a good look at you before you drift off.”

The traveller … that’s what they called Hyrule, right? Why would he need Hyrule of all people now?

Mustering all the energy he could, he finally pried his eyes. 

It was strange that he wasn’t waking up to morning light; it was instead to a dark spacious room, with the only source of lighting being the flickering lantern by his head. There was barely anything else he could see, and if it was, then he could only see the vague outlines of it. His gaze then settled onto his mentor sitting beside him, face pale and features taut as he watched his protege. When their eyes met, he gave a tired smile.

“You scared me back there. I should’ve known not to leave you alone.”

Alone? Why would it matter if he was alone? But when Twilight tried to ask that very question, a blazing pain shot up his throat and caused coughs to rack through his body.

“Easy, easy.” The Hero of Time placated. “ That thing ripped through a good portion of your throat and chest, so don’t expect to be talking any time soon.”

Ah, he supposed that would explain the phantom pains echoing through his entire being. When he eventually recovered, he instead settled on fixing his mentor with a steady gaze, hoping the other would get the message.

He watched as Time settled back with a sigh and let his shoulders drop. In a matter - of - fact tone, he explained, “ You were attacked by a ReDead. I don’t know the events leading up to it, but I remember hearing the clang of your sword and shield on the ground and then a low moan. I feared the worst, and I was upset to find that I was right. I killed that thing in an instant and bandaged whatever I could, hoping that the bloodloss didn’t progress too far. I managed to get you to drink a few potions, and it looks like you came to at the last bottle I had.” He gently motioned to the various empty bottles strewn about, and Twilight could determine that there were at least four of them. “ It was a bit touch - and - go there for a second, but I knew you would be alright once you started breathing again.” He closed his eyes and shook his head as he muttered out, “ Honestly, the amount of times we look death in the face is ridiculous.”

The Ordonian would’ve laughed if he could. There was that cynical and exasperated Time they all knew and loved.

But the old man’s gaze hardened, and he fixed a disapproving eye on his protege. “ You should know better than to approach a ReDead like that. They’re simple enemies that can be avoided as long as you don’t make too much noise.”

He was taken aback by the confused stare he received.

“You don’t … know what a ReDead is.”

It was more of a statement rather than a question, but Twilight nodded nonetheless. 

With a tired sigh, the Hero of Time began, “ ReDeads are zombie - like creatures that roam dark dungeons, preferably those underground. They’re mindless, but the moment they hear a sound, they’re quick to paralyze you with their gaze. They’ll jump onto your back once you’re petrified, but depending on the direction you’re facing, they might attack you from a different angle. You obviously can’t attack them when you’re paralyzed, so the moment you feel yourself regaining control of your body, you need to shake them off and avoid their eyes at all costs; then is the best moment to strike.” 

Twilight noticed the way his mentor prattled on, and a small part of him wondered how he remembered such a vivid description of an enemy. Was it because he read a manuscript somewhere detailing the enemy? Or was it that he had a mentor of his own to tell him the ins and outs of the creature? He would have to ask once they’re out of this tomb.

“Also, I thought I should let you know about this.” The elder hero grabbed a piece of pink fabric from somewhere beside him and showed it to his protege. “ It was something the ReDead was holding, and it’s also part of the dress the mother had last seen the girl wearing. If my assumption is correct, I believe she passed by here, got caught by the ReDead, and was able to escape - how, I’m not sure. Regardless, I believe that this is the reason you were even near that thing.”

The Ordonian stiffly nodded, staring at the piece of faded pink cloth. That must have been what he was smelling earlier, and his willingness to just blindly follow the scent without any hint of precaution had led him into a dangerous situation with an enemy he had never seen before. 

He shivered. He could still feel the bony fingers raking up and down his chest, and the fear enveloping his mind before it all came to a soothing calm: his body’s last - ditch effort at trying to soothe his frightened mind before an agonizing death. He was minutes if not seconds away from meeting a cruel end, and he was just lucky enough that his mentor had heard all the commotion and came when he did. He could have died back there, and the gravity of the past was starting to sink in.

He just really hoped that one of the others had found that missing Sheikah girl.

<Previous Next>

[devil-in-the-d3tails]

It’s the End of the World As We Know It - Chapter 5

summary: During the international quarantine in your first-ever pandemic, the people around you slowly begin to disappear. As the world grows quieter and quieter, you find yourself all alone-- no power, no friends, and only one goal: to find whoever of your friends might be left and reunite with them.You're naive to think anything can be that simple. As you're faced with ever-increasing loneliness, you run into some boys who apparently went to the same high school as you. Will you join forces with them to figure out your strange circumstances together, or will you brave loneliness in a world that is slowly crumbling apart?

Link on AO3!

words: 5,453

rating: M - Mature

genre: angst/humor, romance, adventure, apocalypse AU, reader-insert

warnings: sort of depressing content, a smidge of violence, cursing, drug use, alcohol consumption

a/n: thank you for reading! <3

- It’s Loud in Here -

When the three of you make it back and hide your car in the same place as before, the gym is empty, except for an excited Indie, who comes bounding up to greet you, Bokuto, and Kuroo with kisses and a wagging tail. You’re a little alarmed at the lack of Kenma and Oikawa, but Kuroo and Bokuto aren’t too worried.

“Kenma’s probably wandering around the school, he does that sometimes. And Oikawa… eh, I dunno, he probably bothered Iwaizumi enough to hitch along with him and Akaashi.” Kuroo explains, and flops down on his bed. “We can move all your stuff in here after a quick nap.” He declares, and you’re in agreement with him-- you desperately need to shower, so you retrieve your toiletries from the car, and head off to the girls’ locker room.

Unfortunately, the water doesn’t get warm at all, but you can’t find it within yourself to care at the moment. You watch as the water cascades down your sore body-- you’ve been manhandled way too much today, and you can already feel the bruises forming around your ribs where that creepy red-head grabbed you. Squirting shampoo into your hair, you furiously scrub at your scalp in an attempt to clean yourself of all the shit you just went through this morning.

The image of your dad’s car won’t leave your mind-- it’s like you see it right in front of you every time you blink, a constant image in the back of your mind that you know you won’t be able to shake. How could someone just disappear like that? And why was it only the adults? Callie had said that her sister disappeared, but her sister was at least thirty…

Your head hurts, but you can’t stop thinking about it. Is there a way to reverse whatever happened? Is there an age limit as far as who disappears? Is it aliens?

You laugh a little to yourself at that thought. While you run the conditioner through your hair, you brush it out, too, and you sigh in absolute happiness as you wash your body with your usual soap from home. It’s pretty nice taking a shower in these dreary locker rooms, since nobody else is here to bother you.

Having washed hair and a washed body truly makes you feel like a new person, and you sigh happily after drying off and slipping on fresh, warm clothes. You even pull on your fuzzy socks, and as you pad back into the gym, you’re met with Kuroo and Bokuto, passed out on their respective beds, and you chuckle to yourself, opting to take a nap on Akaashi’s bed for the time being.

You’re not sure what time it is when you wake up, but Kenma has since returned, as you’re woken up by the sound of pages turning. You sit up, rubbing at your eyes, to find Kenma sitting on his bed, munching on some chips while he reads the book in his lap. He looks up at you, blinks in greeting, and goes back to reading.

“Um… hey,” You say awkwardly, as Bokuto and Kuroo are still very much asleep. Kenma looks up at you again, and you feel sort of scrutinized under his intense, calculating gaze.

“Hey,” He responds, and again, goes back to reading.

You frown-- you don’t want to bother him, so you decide to get the rest of your shit from your car. Bokuto and Kuroo have done enough heavy lifting for today, you decide, as you exit the gym to retrieve your groceries, bed, and all the other supplies you packed.

Kenma’s gaze follows you occasionally on your multiple trips to and from the gym. You pretend not to notice, because you have no idea if you should talk to him or just ignore him-- he seems to only really like Kuroo, and “like” is a strong word for him.

You huff as you stand in front of your open trunk, your mattress resting on top of two of the folded down backseats. Hands on your hips, you narrow your eyes as you work out the logistics of hauling this thing inside-- it’s just a twin bed, really not that heavy, and the gym is literally like five feet away. But with a sigh, you look down at your feet, battered shoes covered in mud and grass-- it hasn’t completely stopped raining all day, though it’s only drizzling right now. You know that if you try to drag your mattress inside by yourself, you won’t be able to hold it completely off the ground, so one side will get all muddy and gross.

You bite the inside of your cheek-- it’s probably better to wait for Kuroo and Bokuto to wake up. They’ll be glad to do manual labor for you, and you’ll be glad to let them show off or whatever. It’s a win-win!

You reach up to close the trunk when Kenma’s voice pipes up behind you.

“Need help?”

You turn in surprise, eyes wide. Did he just talk to you? And, offer you help?

Kenma leans against the open gym door, arms crossed, same expression as always. “You’re letting in all the cold air from outside.”

Oh. He just wanted you to hurry up, not actually help you because he was feeling nice. You laugh a little to yourself, and nod at him with a smile.

“Yeah, that’d be great, actually.”

The two of you haul your bed inside with little trouble-- Kenma’s actually stronger than he looks! When it flops to the floor between Kuroo’s and Akaashi’s beds, the dark-haired boy finally stirs awake. His head was sandwiched between two pillows, you realize, and snort out a laugh.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty.” You tease, and Kuroo just grumbles in response, still not completely awake as he squints up at you and Kenma.

“You moved your bed in here?” Kuroo mumbles, rubbing at his eyes.

You nod, and gesture to Kenma. “Yeah, Kenma helped me.”

“Really?” Kuroo huffs out a laugh. “Dang Kenma, are you actually warming up to someone?”

“She was letting cold air in ‘cause she was taking so long.” Kenma rolls his eyes, and flops back on his own bed to continue to read.

“Thank you, Kenma,” You say sweetly, and lay on your bed with a happy sigh, wrapping yourself up in the blankets you brought from home.

“Man, I miss waffles.” You complain aloud, seemingly out of nowhere. Your thought process to lead you to that statement was: raining -> warm, lazy mornings -> mornings = breakfast -> breakfast = waffles, but waffles = not here anymore because toasters don’t work anymore. Maybe you could roast one over a fire? But all the frozen ones are probably weird now because they’ve been thawing out for days on end.

Kuroo laughs beside you. “Like, Eggos?”

“Yeah,” You sigh wistfully.

“I miss Crunchwrap Supremes.” Kuroo says, and it’s your turn to laugh.

“I miss Baja Blast.” You agree with a sigh.

Kuroo groans, and you meet his gaze with a grin. “Man, don’t torture me like that.”

“Maybe we can raid a Taco Bell? Baja Blast doesn’t expire, right?” You say, and Kuroo nods thoughtfully as he tucks his hands behind his head.

“If we’re gonna preserve one thing from the remnants of society, it better be fuckn’ Baja Blast.” Kuroo says, and you crack up at that.

“Yeah, fuck the pyramids or whatever--” You say,

“Dude, fuck the pyramids!” Kuroo interjects, and you laugh even more.

“-- fuck the pyramids, for real!” You smack your first into your palm. “All my homies hate the pyramids.”

“Society has advanced past the need for pyramids.” Kenma says from his place on his bed. You and Kuroo’s eyes light up, and you both sit up to hook Kenma with gleeful expressions, elated that he’s joining in on the fun. Kenma looks up from his book, and smiles a little as you and Kuroo laugh along with the joke.

Your rambunctious laughter wakes up Bokuto, who sits up with a start, even though his eyes are still squinty as he slowly regains consciousness.

“Baja Blast…?” He mumbles, and you and Kuroo can’t help but crack up even more at Bokuto’s delayed response-- even Kenma laughs, and as the rain falls heavier outside, the four of you go around naming all the things you miss from before the world ended. Video games, heaters, washing machines, all kinds of fast food, TV shows you’ll never know the ending to, movies that will never be released-- it’s all a little sad, but it’s fun to reminisce with the three guys as they crack jokes and raid your grocery haul for snacks.

“Awww, man, remember those things at like, huge malls where you could go in and fake sky-dive?” Bokuto says, and you and Kenma exchange a glance of wild confusion.

“No??” You say, and Kuroo and Bokuto exclaim in surprise.

“What?! You never went on one of those things?” Bokuto is astonished, but so are you, because you have no idea what he’s talking about.

“How does that even work?” Kenma wonders, and glares at Kuroo as the latter steals some chips from him with a grin.

“You go into this like, giant cylinder--” Kuroo starts, but Bokuto cuts in as he leaps to his feet.

“Yeah, and there’s this grate floor, and a giant fan underneath you, and you wear like, goggles and shit, and then they turn on the fan and you just get fuckn’ blasted in the air for like five minutes.” Bokuto howls with laughter, “I remember one time, me and Akaashi tried it, and holy shit-- his face--!” Bokuto can’t continue, he’s laughing so hard.

You all three join in, because Bokuto’s joy is contagious, and you can kind of picture the situation-- the prospect of seeing Akaashi as anything but calm and collected is hilarious to you.

The sun begins to set, and you’re roped into a game of toss-the-volleyball with Kuroo and Bokuto, while Kenma watches on in mild amusement.

“Check this out!” Bokuto yells as Kuroo tosses the ball up. The gray-haired boy grins wide, eyes fixated on the ball, and he leaps, only to hit the ball over an imaginary net to send it careening to the polished wood floor with a loud SMACK!

“Woah!” You exclaim, eyes wide as Bokuto’s chest puffs with pride.

“That is called a ‘spike’.” He says, hands on his hips.

You raise your eyebrows, deciding to humor him. “No waaay, tell me more!”

“Okay!” Bokuto excitedly retrieves the ball, and tosses it back to Kuroo. “Send me another one!”

“Man, I’m not a setter.” Kuroo huffs, sending a quick glare to Kenma as he tosses the ball up to Bokuto once again, who leaps up, and powerfully hits the ball so that it flies parallel to where the net would have been, and another loud SMACK! fills the gym.

“Hey, hey, hey!!” Bokuto exclaims proudly as he lands on the floor.

“Dang!” You exclaim, actually very impressed with that move. “How’d you do that?!”

“Ahh, there’s no explaining talent.” Bokuto laughs, “I’m just kiddin’! Basically, I just jump up and hit the ball like, bam! Instead of, wham! You know?” He nods, hands on his hips, and you share a quick glance with Kuroo, who just shakes his head with a smile.

“That’s kickass.” You concede, and Bokuto seems to glow with your praise.

“Hey, maybe we can show you--”

“Yoho~!”

Bokuto is cut off by a cheery Oikawa pushing the gym doors open, a dazzling smile on his handsome face like always. As Oikawa enters, he pulls his hood off of his head-- how is his hair still perfect?!-- and a soaked Akaashi and Iwaizumi follow, carrying about five bags total.

“Welcome back!” You say, inwardly relieved to see their safe return. You didn’t want to admit it earlier, but you were growing more worried with every hour that passed and they didn’t show up.

The three guys set down the bags in the designated “stuff” corner of the gym, and you, Kuroo, and Bokuto walk up to meet them there, with Kenma trailing behind.

“Well, we found some pretty useful shit this time.” Iwaizumi says proudly, and fishes around in one of the bags for a moment before procuring some walkie-talkies.

“Walkie-talkies?” You and Bokuto exclaim at the same time.

“Radios?” Kuroo corrects, and you and Bokuto roll your eyes.

“Yes to both.” Akaashi says as he helps Iwaizumi hand them out.

“This way, we can communicate easier when we go searching in L.A.” Iwaizumi says as he hands you yours.

“Oh? Are you coming with us now?” You say with a grin.

You don’t miss the quick blush that dusts Iwaizumi’s cheeks as he quickly looks away with a frown. “Oikawa begged me to.” He explains.

“Um? No, I convinced you.” Oikawa defends himself.

“Whatever. Point is, after what happened to you, it makes sense that we should all stick together. Splitting up is a bad idea, especially since… y’know, people are still disappearing.” Iwaizumi says, and a solemnity passes over the group.

Oikawa clears his throat. “Here, I got this for you.” He hands you a bag of cotton balls and nail polish remover. Your eyes widen-- you looked everywhere in the grocery store for this stuff, but couldn’t find it a few days ago.

“T-thank you!” You say as you take the items from Oikawa. He gives you a dazzling smile in response, which brings a blush to your cheeks, having all his attention on you.

“Your nails were looking pretty bad this morning, I noticed you picking at them-- so I figured this would help!” He explains, to which Iwaizumi punches him in the arm. “Ow! Hey, I’m just being honest!”

“Gee, thanks.” You deadpan, your appreciation now replaced with irritation. You decide to shrug it off, though-- this shows that his heart was in the right place, at least.

“We haven’t even shown you guys the best thing,” Oikawa recovers pretty quickly, and reaches into his own bag, to reveal a plethora of Four-Lokos and White Claws. “It’s time to get fucked up. It’s the least we deserve.”

“Dude!” Kuroo exclaims, and fishes around in his pocket to pull out his hefty sum of weed, to which Oikawa’s eyes light up. The two boys grin at each other, and shake hands warmly at their shared train of thought.

[-]

The boys lead you to a barren spot behind the gym outside, where a fire pit has been set up. You’re surprised at how quickly Kuroo and Iwaizumi can get a fire started, considering it’s still cold as hell, even though the rain has stopped for now. Pretty soon, they’re warming a kettle of water over the crackling flame, and you and Kenma are sitting side-by-side underneath one of your blankets on the chairs you brought outside, while the rest of the guys huddle around the fire in their own chairs.

Instant ramen is passed out, and soon, your hands are warmed by the boiling water heating up your styrofoam cup of noodles. You blow on it gently, and soon, all of you are wolfing down the most delicious instant noodles you’ve ever eaten in your life.

After dinner, the fire is put out, and you all retreat back inside the gym just as the rain begins to pick up again.

“Aight, I don’t have too much paper, so we’re just gonna pass it around, is that cool?” Kuroo asks as you all settle on the floor, sitting on your respective pillows in a circle. He’s already preparing the joint, packing it so it’s a little thicker than what you’ve seen in the movies. After expertly rolling it up, he licks the edge of the paper, and seals it before lighting it. He takes a drag, and exhales happily as Oikawa, sitting next to him, cracks open a Four Loko. You’ve decided to go with a White Claw for now, since you’re a bit of a lightweight on account of your inexperience.

Kuroo passes the joint to Oikawa first, who passes it to Iwaizumi, then Kenma, then Akaashi, and then you. You frown, and laugh a little as you sheepishly ask, “Um, how do I do it?”

Bokuto laughs beside you, and gently takes it from you. “You just breathe in, hold it for a second, and then breathe out.” He shows you, and coughs a little at first, waving away the smoke. “Here, try!”

You nod with a smile, and do as he says: wrap your lips around the blunt, breathe in, hold it--

You almost cough up a lung on step two. The boys around you laugh, not making fun of you, just amused at your naivete.

“Try again, try again.” Oikawa encourages, and you do, and actually manage to do a successful hit. You’re still coughing a little, your eyes watering, but you’re having fun.

You take a sip, and the blunt is passed around once again.

“So, you got all your stuff back, I see!” Oikawa says as he takes another hit. “What happened there?”

“Shit was insane, dude.” Kuroo shakes his head and runs his hand through his hair.

“Yeah, those assholes that scared her before were hiding out in Asahi’s house!” Bokuto says, “They had guns, man!”

“What?” Iwaizumi exclaims right as he’s about to take a drag.

“Yeah, it was insane!” You chime in after taking a few more sips of your drink. “That red-head grabbed me right as I was about to run back into the car, but then I punched him!” You say proudly, and hold up your bruised knuckles as proof.

“Yeah, and you know what she said when she did it?” Kuroo laughs, “She goes, ‘Fuck outta here!’”

The entire group is impressed and joins in on your laughter, and you just blush with a shrug.

“What can I say? I’m a badass.” You toss your hair over your shoulder.

“Yeah, you are.” Kuroo affirms warmly, and you share a smile with him for a moment before Akaashi hands you the blunt.

“He was a redhead?” Kenma pipes up, and you nod as you exhale. The musky smell of weed is starting to stink up the whole gym, but you don’t really care. You’ve only taken two hits, but you’re already feeling warm and tingly-- your mind is a little fuzzy, and paired with your drink, you’re generally just feeling amazing.

Kenma must’ve said something, because he’s looking at you expectantly.

“Hm? Sorry.” You say and sit up straighter.

“I said, he sounds like a kid from my history class. I think his name’s Tendou?” Kenma repeats, and glances at Kuroo, who just shrugs.

“I don’t know a lot of juniors.” He says, taking another glug of his drink.

Kenma just hums thoughtfully, and takes a hit before passing it back to Kuroo.

“Okay.” Oikawa says with a grin, and turns to hook you with his chocolate brown gaze. “So, how come we’ve never seen you before? You went to Karasuno, right?”

“Yeah,” You laugh sheepishly, and are surprised to find you’ve already finished your drink. “I wasn’t really part of any clubs or anything. I mean, I went to Yearbook Club every once in a while, ‘cause I liked to take pictures.”

“You ever go to any volleyball games?” Oikawa asks.

“No,” You say with a big sigh. “Don’t hate me!”

“Ugh!” Oikawa exclaims in disgust. “That’s it, get her out of here.”

You laugh along with the others, and decide to play along with the bit. “Alright, bet.” You say, and rise to your feet, but immediately stumble back down, right into Bokuto’s surprised lap.

“Woah--hey, hey, hey!” Bokuto exclaims, his voice jumping a few octaves as he flings his arms above him to avoid touching you in any disrespectful way.

You dissolve into a pile of giggles, and reach up to snatch the blunt from Bokuto’s hand, taking another drag before leaning back to look upside down at Kenma, passing it to him, who grins down at you.

“Did your boyfriend disappear, too?” Oikawa asks out of nowhere, and you look over in time to see Iwaizumi smack Oikawa’s arm. “Ow! Come on, we were all curious!”

You just huff out a laugh, and sit up with a bit of trouble, leaving behind a furiously blushing Bokuto.

“I didn’t have a boyfriend. Never really have, ‘cause I don’t count elementary school.” You answer with a shrug, and glance at Kuroo, only to find him staring at you intently. You raise an eyebrow, exuding confidence as you smirk at him. “What?”

Kuroo just blinks, and shrugs as he takes the blunt from Kenma. “Nothin.” He says, and takes a drag, finally breaking eye contact with you.

The blunt is passed around-- you’ve lost count by now-- and Kenma suddenly stands, his eyes shining with excitement.

“I almost forgot-- I found something really cool today in one of the classrooms.” He says, and stumbles over to his bed to reach into his backpack, and pulls out an actual boom box.

“Wooaaahhh!” Kuroo and Bokuto say at the same time as Kenma brings it over.

“There’s even some cassette tapes for it,” Kenma says, and puts the boom box in the middle of the group, then pulls out some cassettes from his jacket pocket to view the options. You lean over to Kenma, across Bokuto’s lap-- which makes him blush again-- and you’re pleasantly surprised by the options.

“Dude, they have Black Sabbath?” You exclaim. “Where did you even find this?”

“Mr. Little’s classroom.” Kenma answers, and grins when he finds a specific tape. “Got it. Check this out.” He inserts the tape, and presses play.

After a second, ‘hot girl bummer’ by blackbear starts playing, much to everyone’s surprise.

“What the-- how did that get on a cassette?” Oikawa exclaims, and Kenma grins.

“I made this tape for Mr. Little earlier this year to prove to him that newer music is pretty good-- but he said he’d only listen to it if it was on a cassette. So, I made a cassette tape with a lot of modern songs on it.” He explains, looking down at the boom box with a smile, like it’s his little baby-- his creation that has managed to survive past the end of the world.

“Kenma!!” You coo, pouting your lip out as you look at him with so much unfiltered adoration. “This is so cool! And this is so exciting! Thank you so much!!” Tears actually well up in your eyes, and Bokuto quickly hurries to wipe them away with his thumb.

“Oh, God!! Oh, no! Why are you crying?!” He exclaims, cradling your face in his hands to bring your gaze up to his.

“I’m just--” You sniffle. “I’m really happy, and like, I’ve just had such a shitty day-- or like, life, lately. And, like--” You sniffle again, and wipe away some snot with your sleeve as you turn to look at the group of cross-faded guys around you, who all look extremely worried at your sudden cry-fest. “It’s just… I care so much about you guys, and we barely know each other! But, like… I don’t know, you guys have just taken care of me, and you’ve been so nice, and I just… I’m just really happy!” You babble, and in an instant, Bokuto wraps you up in a bone-crushing hug.

“We care about you too!” Bokuto affirms, and then suddenly hauls you up to your feet, still hugging you fiercely. He spins you around with a flourish, and you’re extremely disoriented, but happy nonetheless. “Let’s dance!” He says, and grabs your hands, and starts swaying around in a really dumb way.

You laugh, but join in anyways-- and soon, the entire group is dancing like idiots. The entire experience is a bit of a haze, as your head has grown fuzzier, your limbs heavier, and your heart lighter. You feel so at ease with yourself, like you could say or do anything, and you wouldn’t have any regrets. You really should’ve smoked weed a lot earlier in life if it made you feel this good.

The songs that are on Kenma’s playlist are really good, and really fun to dance to-- you think for a moment that this experience is even better than prom, apocalypse included. You don’t quite feel your feet as you stumble and dance around, but pretty soon, you feel a really strong urge to pee. Two-- or was it three?-- White Claws seem to have gone right through you, so you mumble something about needing to use the bathroom and that you’ll be right back to Iwaizumi. Or maybe it was Akaashi.

In no time at all, you’re relieved and washing your hands at the sink. Being in the school bathroom with the lights off is once again a strange experience-- especially since you’re very high and pretty drunk. This moment sort of feels like a liminal space-- a save point in a video game, so that you can collect your fuzzy thoughts, only to watch them float down the drain with the water that’s running over your hands. You’re not sure how long you watch the faucet run, but you’re amazed at what you’re seeing-- indoor plumbing really is the most underrated thing about society.

“Man, fuck the pyramids!” You laugh to yourself as you remember your jokes with Kuroo earlier. Man, he really is cute. All of them are-- you’re really the luckiest girl in the end of the world. You finally turn off the faucet, and float out of the bathroom, out to the dark hallway that leads back to the gym.

You’re surprised to find Kuroo leaning on a wall, hands in his pockets. He looks up when he catches sight of you, and smiles sweetly. He doesn’t grin, or smirk like usual-- he looks like a young boy right now, and you can’t help but smile back.

“Hi,” You say, surprised at your quiet voice and how it seems to cut through the silence of the hallway loudly. The sound of music is still coming from the gym, but this hallway still feels very removed from reality, like a little pocket that only you and Kuroo exist in.

“Hey,” He says, and licks his chapped lips as he looks away, and rubs the back of his neck. “Um, sorry, just wanted to check on you ‘cause you were taking a while.”

“Ohhh,” You say, and smile sheepishly. “I was just… watching the water.”

“Cool.” Kuroo nods, and you both stare at each other for a moment. Kuroo’s eyes are a little glazed, a little red, and you’re sure you look the same. He swallows, and you watch as his Adam’s apple bobs with the motion. “Um, I wanted to apologize.”

“Huh? For what?” You’re surprised, to say the least. He helped you out so much today-- he actually risked his life for you (and your groceries).

“For doubting you.” He says, and shoves his hands in his pockets even further. “Earlier, when I didn’t tell you your groceries were in Asahi’s house. I didn’t tell you ‘cause I didn’t think you could pull off getting them back. And, like… I dunno, that wasn’t cool of me. So, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry. And, that, uh…” He shrugs, and finally glances at you. “I believe in you.”

You’re struck dumb as your mouth drops open in surprise-- you’re not sure what to say. Even if you were sober, this would surprise you. You quickly close your mouth, and realize you need to say something, because you don’t want Kuroo to feel weird, or like you hate him.

But, you can’t think of anything to say at the moment-- so, you follow your feet as you walk up to him, and proceed to wrap your arms around his middle, resting your head against his broad, warm chest.

“Thank you, Kuroo.” You say, and squeeze him a little tighter when his arms wrap around you after a moment. He rests his chin on the crown of your head, and laughs out a sigh of relief. You two stay like that for a while-- you could fall asleep standing up, with how at peace you feel right now. Your high, combined with Kuroo’s warmth, and how safe you feel bundled up in his arms, makes the world melt away. With a happy sigh, you pull away a little bit to look up at him with a dumb, happy smile. He looks down at you, just as dumb, and just as happy. “Hey, I believe in you, too. Even though you piss me off sometimes.”

You feel the rumble of Kuroo’s laugh from his chest, and you lean your cheek into his hand as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I’m always gonna piss you off.” He mumbles, and you roll your eyes with a grin. You watch as he licks his lips again-- it’s a subconscious thing to do, a normal tick that anyone and everyone does, but for some reason, watching Kuroo do it right now, it’s the most captivating thing for you. Your gaze slowly travels from his lips to his bright, hazel eyes, only to find that he’s been gazing at you just as long as you’ve been gazing at him. He takes a deep, shaky breath, and seems to have a stream of conflicting thoughts go through his head, but you’re very sure of yourself as you reach up, and cradle his face between your hands. You gently rub your thumb back and forth over his cheek-- he feels so warm, and it’s only then that you notice that he’s blushing. One of your hands travels further, into his dark hair, which you’re surprised to find, is extremely soft.

You giggle then, which surprises Kuroo, and you bite your lip as you try to hold back your laughter. “Your hair’s always so messy.”

Kuroo huffs out a laugh, and rolls his eyes. “Gimme a break, it’s the end of the world.”

Your smile just grows wider, and you can’t help but stare at him-- something about this moment makes you feel so vulnerable, but so incredibly safe. You wonder if Kuroo feels the same-- and he’d never tell you, but he does (just because it’s you).

Kuroo gently reaches up to grab your wrist, and pull it from his hair. Your hand drifts from his grasp, to trail your fingers along the lines of his palm-- you watch your fingers gently ghost over his skin, and he watches, too, completely engrossed in your movements. Somehow, his fingers ghost over your own, and travel to your bruised knuckles. His fingers ghost over the blue and purple skin, a frown pulling the corners of his mouth down as his eyebrows knit together the longer he stares at your bruised hand. You lazily intertwine your fingers with his, and look back up at him as he looks back to you. You’re both holding your breaths-- for the first time, Kuroo looks nervous. Is it nervousness? Anticipation? His eyes flit to your lips when your tongue darts out to lick them, and then back to your eyes.

You’re both leaning in to each other, subconsciously or intentionally, you’re not sure which-- but you know that you’re super okay with it. Your eyelids flutter when you feel Kuroo’s breath fan over your lips, and you feel Kuroo’s grip tighten around your waist, which sends sparks of excitement coursing through your body, and you feel electric and buzzed, and you flutter your eyes closed as the two of you move closer. Your nose brushes his, and he inhales sharply at the contact, and you feel his thumb rub up and down against your back, and he presses you against him, closer, closer, and your heart is thundering in your ears and all throughout your body, and--

Just like that, it’s all gone. Kuroo takes a step back, blushing furiously just like you, and you’re surprised and really cold from his absence.

“U-uhm…” He runs a hand through his hair, and clears his throat as he looks away. “Sorry. Uh-- yeah. Sorry.” He mumbles, and quickly turns away to walk to the opposite end of the hallway to disappear into the boys’ bathroom.

You’re left standing there, lips parted, heart hammering, the cold slowly seeping back into your bones, and as Everybody Talks by Neon Trees starts to play in the gym, you slowly begin to feel the sharp sting of rejection.

[so-i-dont-forget-again]

So I Don’t Forget Again: A Breath of The Wild fanfiction

Entry 43: ???

 The moment it started getting brighter I woke the others and we headed out. Before leaving though I had the Prince take a look at the map I had on the Sheikah slate so he could get an idea of where we are headed. Though I don’t have a complete map he got a much better idea of where we were heading.

He commented on how I was holding my arm and asked if I was doing alright. I admitted about what had happened to my arm before and that I think because of that my arm hurts so much more than it should now. He really wanted to take a closer look at it but considering the fact that at the time we were racing through a thunderstorm I decided that it’d be best left for later.

Crossing the bridge was extremely difficult. It was practically submerged in raging waves which I was surprised hadn’t already destroyed the bridge. Using the Ice power of the Sheikah slate I was able to create small safeish places for us to hide. Friend really didn’t want to cross the bridge, and I don’t blame her, but her reluctance did make getting her to cross more dangerous. I tried to keep her calm as the Prince used the bridal to pull her in the right direction. After we finally got across the Prince kept praising Friend which I think helped her calm down somewhat.

It took much longer to get across than I had thought it would. I knew that it wouldn’t be bright enough to see anything for too much longer, so we had to find shelter. Friend and Bossa Nova were both very spooked, so we weren’t able to get too far. Things only got worse when a tree collapsed right next to us. Friend ran away, and I chased after her as quickly as I could. As I chased after her, I fell into this mud sludgy stuff. The more I moved the more I sank into it. I kept whistling and not long after Friend showed up. I grabbed her bridal and she tried pulling me out, but it wasn’t working. That’s when I heard him calling out to me. I tried yelling, but he couldn’t hear, I then whistled which got his attention. He almost fell in but thankfully bumped into Friend instead. After he immediately came to my aid. At first, he tried only pulling me by my left arm but that wasn’t working so he had to take both. When I finally got out my right arm felt like it was being torn apart. As concerned as the Prince was, he too knew that right now our top priority was to find shelter. We could hardly see. We heard a loud squeaking noise. The Prince recognized it as his friend, so we followed it to find Bossa Nova hiding in a massive skull that was partly buried underground.

The place makes for good temporary shelter. I stayed right next to Friend. She was a lot calmer in the skull than outside.

My arm hurts so much, almost feels as if it’s on fire again. The Prince asked to see it. He held my arm very gently, and the cooling touch of his smooth scaly skin felt relieving. That moment with him felt so comforting, familiar even. So familiar. Like this happened before. I was going to ask him if we’ve met before, but I heard him mumble something like “if only I had healing powers too.” I asked if he was referring to mine. He started blushing realizing he had said that out loud. He was referring to his sister. When she was alive, she had the power to heal others. He became a bit quiet when the subject of his late sister came up, but he immediately bounced back. He reassured me that with two warriors as great as ourselves at each other’s side there’s no doubt that we’ll make it to the Domain, and there I would most assuredly get healed.

The Prince started talking about our friends. I think he realized I need distraction from my arm. If I don’t distract myself I’ll just focus on the pain. He said that if Bossa Nova ran off like Friend had, he’d do the exact same thing I did. Bossa Nova is the closest person to him just as Friend is to me. We told each other how we met our companions. Prince Sidon was patrolling through the domain when he heard some odd noises. He ended up finding some hunters. It was the rainy season, so no one was allowed in the particular area they were in because of how dangerous it was. He was going to let them off with a warning till he realized they were also trying to damn up the river. No one is allowed to damn up any body of water in the Zora’s Domain unless you are a Zora with a permit. That’s common knowledge so these guys were breaking the law knowingly and had to be arrested. They turned out to be poachers with several animals already captured. The Prince set all the caged animals free. One in particular was the noisy one whom he heard. The creature kept chewing on the metal bars and bucked the walls of its tiny cage. When he released it, he wanted to get a better look since he’d never seen a creature like it before. He held open his hands, and the tiny creature immediately climbed on. The creature was very sniffie and explorie so the Prince had a difficult time keeping the creature from falling. From that point on that baby Capyara never left his side, and still hasn’t to this day.

When first meeting I can imagine the baby Bossa Nova climb onto the Prince’s open palms, and the Prince then holds Bossa Nova up to eye level, and after a moment having the biggest smile.

The Prince tried to keep chatting, but he eventually fell asleep. I’m not sure if I can, but I’ll try to get some sleep.

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[cowboisadness]

Hang ‘Em High {Arthur Morgan X FemOC} Chapter 5

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x FemOC Summery: Belle Hawthorne is high society looking to escape her mean husband. A robbery by the Van Der Linde gang could be her chance. Can she escape his cluches and possibly discover what love should feel like?

. . . . . 

Chaper 5

The two weeks that passed were a struggle, the pain was easing now but i couldn't ease my mind no matter how i tried. Sitting out on the edge of the overlook would help slightly, looking out at the vastness of the wild lands, being the same height as the birds. But my mind always returned to him, to Frank. Surely after two weeks I would have heard something or read something in the papers that Hosea or Arthur would return with each morning. Arthur had said maybe he won't look for me, maybe he's not as possessive when it came to me...his wife. I doubted his words but hoped they could be true.

Getting closer to the others here helped as a distraction and Miss Grimshaw made sure my time here wasn't wasted, having me wash clothing or stitch ripped garments when I was feeling more useful. The girls were very kind, the only one I didn't speak too much being Mrs Sadie Adler. She had been through so much and was still adjusting but she seemed like a strong woman, all of the women do in fact. Abigail had to juggle a young boy and a man that didn't seem to want to be a father. Mary-Beth let me borrow some of her books, to be honest, they are awful romances but entertaining enough not to put down. Karen would share her drink with me while we sat round the fire, Javier singing into the night.

This morning, Hosea asked me to join him in a game of dominos. Despite never playing the game before he was happy enough to teach me.  He was wise and seemed to be the only one of the guys that was more logical when it came to jobs that needed to be done and how they should be done.

“You sure you've never played before. It's a simple game but you got the hang of it quickly.” he said as he placed his tile down. “Used to play poker, blackjack and chess with my father. Frank never let me gamble, saying gambling is a man's sport that's too complex for a woman to understand.”

He scoffed at that and shook his head “Seems like a quality man, shame robbing him wasn't successful.”

I giggled, continuing our game in silence until Arthur approached, mentioning how he was going to Valentine to meet up with Javier, Charles and Bill. Hosea told him to keep out of trouble as Arthur turned to leave. 

I decided to cut the game short, telling him I needed to ask a favour before Arthur left. I made my way over to where he was saddling his horse, a beautiful Mahogany Bay Tennessee Walker named Barley. “Hey Arthur, could I ask a favor? If you're not busy.”

“Sure.” “I have a couple of things I'd like to sell, would you be willing to take me to a fence? He pondered for a moment, weighing out the pros and cons as he pulled out his cigarettes from his satchel and lighting one.

“Promise you won't fall off my horse again?” He grinned slightly, meeting my gaze. 

“I'll try my best.” I couldn't help but to giggle at his taunt, looking down the ground as i flushed with embarrassment. 

He nodded and blew out a puff of smoke as I turned to get what I needed. The first night I arrived my dress was ruined, now being used for rags and patches but my necklace and earrings were still intact and could sell for a good price. I put them into my new satchel, given to me by Charles as he had no use for it anymore. Him and Arthur brought back a few good pelts and meat a few days ago. I really need to gain the courage to ask if I can join in their next hunt. I hadn't hunted in years, that being another thing my father taught me. 

The ride to Emerald Ranch didn't take long, Arthur kept the ride slow thinking I might fall again, possibly seeing me as this delicate being that would shatter if we got anywhere near the speed of a gallop. The man at the fence, Seamus his name was, was more generous than I was expecting. $75 for the necklace and earring set. I didn't really care about how much I would get, I wanted to get rid. Frank bought them after all. I unconsciously fiddled with my hands as he counted the money, my fingers brushed over the ring on my left hand. Looking down at it, the three small diamonds glinting in the midday sun, thoughts of my wedding day flooding into my mind. White silk that pooled at my feet, a train following behind. The intricate floral embroidery that hugged around the bodice. It being so tight it lifted my chest till I felt like my breasts were directly under my chin. I felt like a princess marrying her prince. Life is nothing like Mary-Beths books. My Prince being the villain in my life. As i snapped back into reality i pulled off the ring without a second thought, handing it over to Seamus.

“How much for this too?.” I could see Arthur now staring at me out of the corner of my eye, he knew I was trying to rid myself of any memory of that man. Seamus took the ring, holding it close to his face as he examined it “Now this is nice. Not too old and made by one of the biggest diamond companies in New York by the looks of it.” He looked to me for confirmation. I nodded, mentioning that it was made only 8 months ago and one of a kind.

I came away with $175 in total, offering to give Arthur some as a thanks, he refused so I made a mental note to sneak it in his saddlebag when he wasn't looking.

He offered to take me back to camp before he headed to Valentine but i wanted to spend some of my new fortune, plus it was nice to be out of camp after two weeks of being in too much pain or scared to venture outside of it’s perimeter. Once in the muddy cattle town of Valentine, Arthur hitched his horse outside of the Saloon where he was meeting the others. He dismounted and held out his arms to help me down. I reached out to his shoulders and he took that as permission to hold me by the waist, making sure he was gentle on my left side. I was told my ribs would take a month or more to heal depending on how bad. Breathing was back to normal but the dull ache and sharp shooting pains still persisted. He headed towards the Saloon telling me to meet him back here when I was done. I'd never been to Valentine before, i haven't been to many places the last 7 months unless it was with with Frank at business parties or joining other business partners for a fancy dinner. I scanned my eyes around the various buildings and my eyes landed on my target, the Gunsmith. 

I don't need anything pricey or flash, just something capable of protection if the need arose. I was living with outlaws now, people who live a life of crime to survive and who knows what my life will be like when I leave. Maybe i’ll make my way to New York to find my brother, he might know where mother and father are now. I miss them all dearly.

A cattleman revolver seemed like the best option as I looked through the catalog, cheap and it would do the job. It had been a long time since I handled a gun. I still remember how displeased my mother was of my father teaching me how to get comfortable with one. I really should have asked for more lessons. I thanked the store owner for his help and his generosity in giving me a gun belt seeing as it was my first gun to own. Sloshing my way through the mud to the saloon, adjusting the belt till it was comfortable hanging off my hip I could hear a commotion behind the doors. Before I had the chance to ascend the stairs and push open the doors a loud smashing happened to my left, causing me to jump backwards as a body was propelled out of the window. Not some random someone, Arthur. Before I could react the saloon doors swung open, knocking me off balance as a huge burly man made his way out and towards Arthur, now on his feet ready to continue the fight. 

They laid into each other, fists flying in the air towards each other's face. I stood in shock, not knowing what to do until the large man had Arthur pinned to the floor, punching him relentlessly as he tried to block each blow to his face and gut.

An audience had circled them, grateful for the entertainment by the sounds of it. I couldn't just stand back, my feet unconsciously moving me towards the fight to somehow intervene but before I made it off the stairs a hand pulled my arm, pulling me back towards them gently. “Don't even try Palomita.” Javier said as he released my arm and then sat on the stairs to watch the show. 

“Aren't you going to help him?” My voice was louder than i expected, showing the anger i didn't know i felt about this current situation.

He just shook his head and giggled “He's a big boy, he can hold his own.” 

Letting out a huff, I turned to see that Arthur had now gained the high ground, punching the man in the face over and over as Charles and Bill shouted words of encouragement from beside me. Through the crowd of shouting onlookers a man comes through yelling them to stop. Intervening and stopping the possible last fatal blows. “Stop! Stop! Please!” he shouts, now facing Arthur “You won the fight already, surely that's enough?” he continues to beg, Arthur releases his grip on the bloodied man into the mud. “What business is it of yours?”

“No business, but please i beg you” the man continues to beg but Arthur just pushes him out of his way, making his way through the crowd as they now disperse. The fun now over. I hastily make my way over to him, passing the man still in the mud without even a glance, my eyes not able to avert from Arthurs sorry state, covered in mud and in obvious pain as he sits on a chair outside another store. At first I didn't know what to say to him. Is this normal for them? I shouldn't be making a fuss if it is. “Are you okay?” is all i can say, silently cursing at myself at my stupid question. He looks up to me as I kneel in front of him, he can sense my concern, snickering slightly as his hand reaches up to his jaw, trying to rub away the ache. “I’m fine. Don't be worryin’ bout me.” You can't help it for some strange reason, still wanting to help him.

“Let's get you cleaned up, the hotel has a bath.” I nod in the direction of the hotel across from us, hoping he will take up the offer. But before we can make our way an unfamiliar British voice calls over to us.

“Making new friends again i see Arthur”

We turn to the voice, a smartly dressed man making his way over to us along with Dutch.

“Look who we found sniffing about.”

“Josiah Trelawney...” Arthur calls to him as he takes a welcoming bow “...I thought you'd gone to New York.”

“And miss all this glamour? You must be joking.” They all laugh “How are you?” 

“Well. Quite well indeed…” His attention turns from Arthur to me as we make our way towards them. “...I’m sorry, we haven't been introduced. Josiah Trelawney.” He extends his gloved hand to me. 

“Bella Hawthorn. Nice to meet you.” i shake his hand and smiling politely.

“My, my. You still enjoy the company of high society women i see Arthur.” He smirks, not taking his eyes off me as he lets go of my hand. 

“Nothing like that Josiah.” I blush slightly at his comment but I excuse myself to leave the men to their conversation, motioning over to the hotel and hoping they didn't notice the sudden pink in my cheeks.

-----

The water was heated perfectly as Arhtur makes his way into the room, slight moans escaping his lips, placing what looks like clean clothes he must have had stored on his horse on a chair.

He shrugs off his sodden jacket, dropping it to the floor and he works on the buttons of his blue shirt and pulling the suspenders down his arms. I’m frozen, unsure of what to do before realising i should leave him to it. He moans in pain again as he attempts to pull his shirt off his arms, the fresh aches and pains making it a struggle.

Once again, without thinking, I make my way over to him to help, this time no one to stop me but myself. With his back turned to me, he jolts slightly at my touch as I gently guided both of his arms out of his shirt, it now joining his jacket on the floor. He turns to me, not meeting my eyes as he murmurs his thanks, his hands then turning to his gun belt to remove it. 

The silence between us is deafening and awkward, he's the one to break it. “I see you got yourself a gun.” 

“Thought i'd treat myself.'' I smile and finally turn to the door, pulling at the handle.

“I'll wait for you outside.” It was barely above a whisper but I didn't turn back for confirmation that he heard me. Instead I shut the door behind me gently, leaning against it and releasing a breath I didn't know I was holding in. 

[gaarasgoddess]

Welcome to Suna - part 2

Welcome to Suna. Where the lights never die and the fun never stops. Sakura and Ino lie to their parents to spend a wild weekend in a forbidden city. Will they regret it? Or will they both find something worth coming for?

Main pairing is GaaraxSakura and side InoxKankuro.

[Listening to 1989 album by Taylor Swift.] 

Chapter summary: GaaSaku get raunchy.

.x.

"Come here often?”

Was he kidding? That was the lamest pick up line and she was too drunk to find it as creepy as she should. Or maybe not drunk enough.

Sakura looked over toward Ino again then sighed and moved to sit next to the stranger. She took those crash course Aikido lessons back in school like the rest of her class. If this guy tried something she’d be ready.

He peered closer at her. “You okay?”

She shifted closer realising she was treating him like a leper and nodded. His hand that was closest to her on the booth seat brushed against her leg and she glared. He laughed softly and sat forward in the booth. He didn’t have a drink but she could smell it on his breath as he moved closer to her. He didn’t bumble in his movements but he was not coordinated having to shift against her a few times.

“I’m Sakura,” she said when he didn’t seem interested in exchanging pleasantries.

He blinked heavily. “Gaara.”

“Gaara.” It sounded nice rolling off her tongue.

He smiled, his arm on the back of the seat behind her. “Sakura.”

She blushed and held her drink to her tighter. Her name in his deep voice sent shivers down her spine. Sakura didn’t know if it was his good looks or the after effects of her drink. This was what she was in Suna for but she needed to get a handle on her nerves and inexperience.

Gaara started stroking her bare leg and she made extra effort in keeping her knees together. “You from these parts?”

“No. You?”

“Yes.” He gripped her knee gently. “I can take you on a tour if you’d like.”

This was brazen and sent alarm bells ringing but what they were ringing for, she wasn’t sure. He was touching her but made no lewd comments and didn’t try to get his hand under her dress. He had noticed her cleavage and his eyes kept drifting down to her breasts of course. She didn’t want her first time to be with a guy who had had too much to drink but Sakura thought this could be a warm up. To get her used to being touched and see how far she was comfortable in going.

She didn’t have to go all the way. Just have fun. Tonight - and this guy - were just a warm up.

The Ino devil on her shoulder was telling her to go for it. She needed to let loose and give guys a chance to like her, Ino would say. The Naruto angel on her shoulder was saying be careful. All guys are dicks he always told her; that’s why they have them. She wasn’t sure which was the better advice.

Sakura glanced at Ino again, watching her laugh at something one of the guys had said, her hand trailing up his arm.

“Your friend is having fun,” Gaara noted. “You can too.” He took her hand when she turned back to him, lacing his fingers through hers. “I promise we’ll stay in brightly lit places. We can even go to the festival.”

His words were soft and sweet but that stare was intense and his voice was deep and slurred. There was something about him that threw her off in both a good way and an unsure way. He was powerful. He was confident. And she really didn’t know what to do with the way his eyes perused her body.

But she’d come here to have fun and didn’t want to be a stick in the mud.

Sakura nodded and placed her glass on the table wishing she had a replacement. Noting this, Gaara called over a waitress. When she got a new cocktail, he pulled her gently to her feet.

“Lets tell your friend we’re leaving and I’ll show you the best place for the fireworks.”

Smiling, Sakura followed his lead.

“Gaara!” One of the men Ino was flirting with waved at them as they approached. “You have a new friend!”

“Sakura.” Ino motioned to Gaara. “You having fun?”

Hesitating only for a second, Sakura nodded. “I’m going on a tour.”

She downed the drink in her hand quickly and the boys surrounding Ino cheered her. She felt her face warm and turned to Gaara who was looking at her in amusement. “Let’s go.”

Sakura didn’t know where this sudden burst of confidence was coming from but she was tugging the redhead out of the night club before he could respond. But he didn’t try to stop her. This was his idea after all.

“Do you even know where you’re going?” Gaara asked, as they stepped directly in the path of a small procession. He slung an arm around her waist and pulled her back onto the sidewalk.

Sakura looked around and pointed to an elevated position in the distance. “Fireworks, right?”

Gaara nodded. “I’ll lead, but first.” He led her to a stall on the side of the road and bought them both a mixed drink, handing hers over. “Cheers.”

“Cheers.” Sakura tossed her head back and smiled sheepishly when he grinned at her.

“Another?”

“Yes.”

And then another. Sakura started swaying and laughed at the fact that the Ino devil and Naruto angel were suddenly quiet. She was nuts. Gaara was handing her another drink when she calmed down.

Another drink.

“Are you trying to get me drunk?” She asked.

“Trying? No.”

Sakura swatted his chest and giggled, not listening to how silly she sounded. He stumbled slightly as he pulled her toward him. She blushed.

“Let’s go find the fireworks,” he whispered in her ear before letting her go.

“Tease.”

Gaara chuckled and took her hand leading her through the party goers. Where they were headed she couldn’t tell; the lights and noise were obscuring her sense of direction. An alarm bell rang in her head but she didn’t have the cognition to pay attention to it.

Strange men in the middle of a noisy, drunk festival were not the kind of men she could take home to meet her parents. But that was the point, right? She wanted to be here. She wanted him to take advantage of her.

Sakura frowned, then pushed it aside. He was drunk too, so whatever.

They found the hill overlooking the main fireworks show but it was crowded. Gaara didn’t seem to care, tugging her toward an empty bench nearby, eagerly. They sat down but he didn’t let go of her. She looked around worried that if he did something, hundreds of people would see. Most people were either watching the fireworks or making out, and the bench kept her and Gaara hidden. Mostly.

She sighed and turned back to watch. Rockets soared into the night sky and she smiled, marveling the colours and noise. She didn’t pay attention to Gaara’s wandering hand other than to shift to accommodate him. As a display of light and colour exploded above their heads his hand slipped under her dress. As the sound rang over the area, his fingers thrust into her and she struggled not to close her eyes.

He timed the rubbing of her nub with a few particularly loud and explosive aerial repeaters, leaning in to kiss her gently when she finally tore her eyes from the display.

Gaara’s other arm was wrapped around her shoulder, gripping her tightly.

It was her first kiss. And fuck she liked it. His tongue ran over her lips before delving into her mouth and making her moan uncontrollably. Her hips jerked and his magic fingers moved faster and faster. She cried into his mouth when she came.

Sakura whined when he pulled his hand out, then watched wide eyed when he started licking his fingers. Even drunk she was embarrassed. When he leant in to kiss her again she pulled away not wanting to taste that.

“Your loss,” he said and she blushed.

Sakura moved to slide off the bench, and stumbled; he grabbed her to steady her. With determination she knelt down and didn’t see the amused smile on his face as she started rubbing his upper leg. Gaara let go of her and watched as she pursed her lips trying to decide what to do. She was more drunk than him.

Her hand brushed the front of his pants and he groaned. The sound made her head snap up and she blushed even deeper. He helped her undo his pants, pulling his dick out. It wasn’t bad, she thought. And looked kind of ... nice. Looking around to double check no-one could see, she lowered her head and kissed the end of it.

Gaara groaned again, his hand gripping her hair. He moved her as she started to take him into her mouth and stared up at the explosion in the sky as she brought him to release. She didn’t stop to realise he could tell she’d never done this before, just sucking and stroking him. It was instinct.

Then when she was done, Sakura felt extraordinarily proud of herself.

She looked up at him as he continued to stroke her hair, his eyes twinkling with both mischief and respect. Sakura wiped her mouth.

“Come here often?”

It was Gaara’s turn to laugh.

.