#it doesn't sound that insane until you find out just how many OCs I have. I doubt I'll get to them all but I at least want to do the faves | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

twoidiotwriters1 · 1 year ago

Text

Daughter of Olympus (Leo Valdez xFem!Oc)

A/N: The titles are long af bc I find that very funny -Danny Words: 3,948 Series' Masterlist Previous Chapter / Next Chapter Listen to: 'Runaway' -by Aurora

V. Memory Lane Has Too Many Stops and I Keep Getting Carsick

Ara has barely stopped crying when Leo Valdez shows up flying the bronze dragon. Everyone stands ready, except Ara. She pushes through the crowd, eyes brimming with tears once again.

"People of Earth, I come in peace!" Leo is the most insane-looking boy she's ever seen. He's dirty from head to toe and looks like he spent the whole night awake. "Festus is just saying hello!"

"That thing is dangerous! Kill it now!"

"Stand down!" Jason shouts anxiously, Annabeth and Nyssa stand next to him. "Leo, what have you done?"

"Found a ride!" He says cheerfully. "You said I could go on the quest if I got you a ride. Well, I got you a class-A metallic flying bad boy! Festus can take us anywhere!"

"Festus..?" Ara echoes hoarsely.

"It—has wings," Nyssa stammers.

"Yeah! I found them and reattached them."

"But it never had wings! Where did you find them?"

"In... the woods," he's hiding something, but Ara couldn't care less about it at the moment. "Repaired his circuits, too, mostly, so no more problems with him going haywire."

"Mostly?"

The dragon tilts his head and oil falls on top of Leo. He's completely unbothered by it. "Just a few kinks to work out."

Ara's mind catches up with her body and she runs to Festus in tears. Leo jumps out of the way in alarm, but everyone else is delighted. She looks less menacing this way. "You fixed it! You fixed my dragon!"

Leo frowns. "Say what?"

"But how did you survive?" Nyssa asks in shock. "I mean, the fire breath..."

"I'm quick," he turns to his sister. "And lucky. Now, am I on this quest, or what?"

"You named him Festus?" Jason adds. "You know that in Latin, 'Festus' means 'happy'? You want us to ride off to save the world on Happy the Dragon?"

"It's perfect!" Ara laughs, the first genuine laughter that comes out of her in days, and gods, it feels so good.

"Okay, so she's as crazy as me," Leo doesn't sound troubled by it. Festus purrs at Ara's touch, she's holding onto his snout. "That's a yes! Now, um, I'd really suggest we get going, guys. I already picked up some supplies in the—um, in the woods. And all these people with weapons are making Festus nervous."

"But we haven't planned anything yet. We can't just—"

"Go," Annabeth stares at them with fondness. "You have Ara, you'll be okay. You've only got three days until the solstice now, and you should never keep a nervous dragon waiting. This is certainly a good omen. Go!"

Jason looks at Piper. "You ready, partner?"

"You bet." The girl's beaming at the dragon.

"Everyone, give our General a proper send-off!" Lily speaks next to her, which causes Ara to jump. She hates it when Lily does that.

The campers lift their shields and swords. Lily places a Tyrian purple cloak on Ara's shoulders and hands her a worn T-rex backpack. "Come back alive," she raises her left hand, and a thin scar can be seen on the side of her wrist. "Deal?"

Ara lifts her right wrist and lightly presses it against Lily's. "You got it." She turns to look at the campers. "I'll bring you good news this time, I promise," Ara faces Leo, the insane boy, and her eyes fill with gratitude. "I owe you a big one."

"Cash only, sunshine. Or a kiss, if you're feeling generous," Leo jokes, trying to stop her from looking at him like that.

Ara smiles, which is not the reaction he wanted. He's hoping she'll go back to being grumpy soon, but unfortunately, nothing's going to make her forget his great deed. "I'll think about it."

She climbs on top of the dragon, and Leo does an okay job at keeping it together. Ara feels this is where she's meant to be, this will bring back her brother. She's always had a good instinct when it comes to Percy.

I'm weaving baskets when this weird thought crosses my mind:

Look for Percy!

I saw him fifteen minutes ago, but I tell the naiads and nymphs that are with me: "Go get help." They notice how serious I am—which is unlike me—and follow my plea. I make my way to the forest, something is guiding me.

When Percy fought Ares, I gave him Aphrodite's protection. I told him "Love will keep you safe", and at the time he thought that I was saying it to not be the only one that hadn't given him something, but I knew it would work. I didn't know that it would bind me to him, but I'm not complaining.

When I find him, Percy sounds scared. "You're being used, Luke. You and Ares both. Don't listen to Kronos."

"I've been used? Look at yourself. What has your dad ever done for you? Kronos will rise. You've only delayed his plans. He will cast the Olympians into Tartarus and drive humanity back to their caves. All except the strongest—the ones who serve him."

I throw my basket at the back of Luke's head, trying to give Percy time so he can grab his sword. Luke turns and holds his weapon tighter. He has a new sword. "I've had enough!"

I stumble and cut my palm on a rock, I grab it and hear Percy's panicky voice. "Don't!" I don't know who he's talking to, but neither of us listens. The rock hits Luke's arm and I roll to avoid his blade but it grazes my skin. I grab a fistful of dirt and throw it at his face.

Percy swats whatever creature is on his leg and draws out his sword, Luke notices and decides I'm not worth the trouble, he makes an arch-motion with his weapon and disappears through a portal. I'm scared shitless and I can feel my back pulsing, I wanna run and hide behind someone again.

"I'm sorry!" I cry, even though I'm not the one who almost killed Percy.

He stumbles toward me in some sort of pain, and I'll be damned if I don't help him out of this one. I put his left arm around my shoulders, and he places most of his weight on me, but I carry on.

"Cool, right?" Leo's smell is starting to get a little too hard to ignore, Ara tries to keep his oil-covered self away.

"What if we get spotted?" Piper asks.

"The Mist," Jason responds before Ara can. "It keeps mortals from seeing magic things. If they spot us, they'll probably mistake us for a small plane or something."

"You sure about that?"

"No."

"I am," Ara replies. "Don't worry, Piper, the crazier it gets, the harder it is for mortals to notice. If not, I know how to fix it."

"Is it thanks to the cool thing you are?" Leo asks.

"Yeah, Chiron had to readjust my training, not everyone can control the mist, but Thalia Grace is really good at it and she and Chiron taught me, she's the other child of Zeus."

"We're making good time," Jason comments like he's trying to change the subject. "Probably get there by tonight."

"Where are we heading?" Piper questions.

"To find the god of the North Wind and chase some storm spirits."

"Piece of cake," Ara nods. "I've gone to many quests, follow your instincts and we'll be okay."

"Which reminds me!" Leo adds. "You didn't finish your story! You promised you would explain!"

Ara frowns. "Where was I?"

"That Luke dude went nuts."

She pauses, trying to piece her memories together. "Well, the nymphs took us back to camp..."

Percy's really weak after Luke's attack. Annabeth left half an hour ago, and I'm standing on the porch clinging to my friend's arm. "You're going too, aren't you?"

The basket I was weaving when I found him is at my feet, I made it for Grover. Percy says he might not come back at all. Grover, Annabeth, and Percy are the closest friends I've had and they're leaving. I want Percy to stay.

"I want to be with my mom, Ara."

"I wish I had a family," I make a face.

Percy pats my hand, I would rather have him glaring, but Annabeth says he's got a soft spot for me. "I thought you were excited to work on the forges?"

I sigh, Percy's words are not enough to distract me. "If I had a family, I'd choose them over camp too," I hold his hand and squeeze it. "Have a good year, Nemo."

He shakes my hand. "Have a fun year, Birdy. Maybe you can come and spend Christmas with me and my mom?"

"You're giving me permission to annoy you outside camp?"

Percy grabs his glass of nectar and drinks from it. "Let's see who gets tired first."

Leo isn't as obnoxious as he pretends to be. He tells them about his connection to Hera, and the girl connects the dots. She doesn't want to use her empath touch on him, but she doesn't need to, Leo gets really quiet after telling his story and keeps his eyes ahead, no longer in the mood for jokes.

Ara process all the information she's gathered, to her it's obvious who the big bad is, but she does not dare to say it out loud, it would mean her future as the daughter of Olympus is bound to that stupid prophecy...

"You know something, don't you?" Piper asks as if reading Ara's thoughts.

Leo has fallen asleep in front of them so she speaks quietly, though she doesn't need to, the wind is loud enough to hide her voice. "Nothing that could make things better."

"Okay... I just want to say, you know... thank you," Piper squeezes her shoulder. "You must be dead worried about your brother..."

Ara senses dread in Piper, the girl isn't as calm as she appears to be. "He would've wanted me to come. Others are looking for him, so..." She isn't needed. At least here, she feels important. She's a protector, and she likes that these demigods respect her. "And Lily's looking after camp, so I'm not worried."

"Annabeth's sister?" Piper muses. "Is she another daughter of Olympus?"

"Something better," Ara smiles. "She's my best friend."

Lily Saggio is the newest and weirdest camper in this place. She's got pitch-black hair and big gray eyes. Since I came back from Percy's home, I've seen campers give her weary looks when she walks past, they say she's just like Thalia.

"Hi! I'm Ara!"

The girl regards me with distrust, then she glances at the table I was in. I feel like she ran a background check in less than five seconds. "Lily Saggio."

I'll have to carry the conversation. That's okay. "You're lucky you got here during winter and not summer! Where are you from?"

Lily stares at me pondering whether to talk or ignore me. "You're a year-rounder?"

"Yeah!"

"Why weren't you here last week?" I notice she's trying to hide an accent, but I do my best to act like I don't.

"I was invited to my friend's house. Look, he gave me this!" I show her my backpack, which is a teddy bear. I keep priceless things in it: my snacks and the legos Sally gave me as a Christmas/late birthday present.

"You can leave this place?" Lily's expression shifts.

"Not all the time," I pull Bear and rummage through him. "I promised I wouldn't leave Percy's apartment—and it was Christmas!"

Lily stands up straighter, looking defiant. "I can look after myself, I've fought monsters before," She pulls out a black dagger and shows it to me.

I gasp. "Where did you get that?"

"It showed up on my nightstand after my Nonna..." She pauses and shakes her head. "It's a gift from my patron, so I don't—"

"You don't like it here?" I pull out my box of Legos and Lily's eyes brighten at the sight. "Don't you wanna know who your parent is?"

She frowns. "I know who my dad is."

"Oh! You're an Ares kid? You don't look like Apollo but you'd make an interesting child of Hermes or Dionys—"

"I didn't mean that."

"You know your dad?" I ask, not following the conversation.

"Yes, my mortal parent," she rolls her eyes. "I don't care about the god. They didn't care about me."

To think that way will get her a step closer to joining Luke. I don't want that. "Do I look like I'm Aphrodite's child?"

"What?"

"Do I look it?" I insist.

"You're okay."

This is the first time anyone calls me okay. My brain goes: Well... duh!

"It hardly matters who your godly parent is, you'll grow to love it here," I lock arms with her and place my Legos on her hands. "I'm going to the forges, come and see."

"I don't need a chaperone—"

"You are sooo grumpy," I sigh. "No one would trust me to look after another camper. So!"

Lily waits for me to finish my sentence. "So?"

"They'll leave you alone if I'm with you, I'm not very popular either."

On our way to the forges, I hear a couple of Ares kids shout rude things at Lily, I step in to shut them up and they laugh so hard they forget about her.

"Go away," Lily scowls at me.

I pout a little. "I just wanted to help."

"I don't need you."

"I didn't do that thinking you—"

"I don't care," she clenches her fists. "Never do that again."

When they reach Boreas's palace, two of his children stop them. Zethes stares at the purple cloak covering her shoulders and his smile evaporates. "Ara Jackson."

She gives a start. "Hi. You know my name?"

"You killed Cacus!"

"Who?" Leo asks with amusement.

"It wasn't only me," Ara dismisses the comment. "Can we go in, then?"

Zethes doesn't look pleased. "You'll kill us if we don't let you?"

Ara shrugs. "Sure."

Leo leans closer as they fly down. "So if I get into a nasty fight, could you just smite my opponent? It'd be super helpful if I knew that beforehand..."

"Shut up," Ara scowls, but she's hiding a smile.

When they land, the Boreads get a little nervous about having Festus there. "No, no, no," Zethes points at it. "The dragon must be deactivated. We can't have fire in here. The heat ruins my hair."

Ara steps forward. "Stay away from the dragon, then."

"'S'okay, boy," Leo eases the automaton, giving her a reassuring nod. "The dragon's a little touchy about the whole deactivation concept. But I've got a better solution."

"Destroy?" Cal suggested.

"No, man. You gotta stop with the destroy talk. Just wait."

"Leo," Piper intervenes, "what are you—"

"Watch and learn, beauty queen. When I was repairing Festus last night, I found all kinds of buttons. Some, you do not want to know what they do. But others... Ah, here we go."

Leo sneaks his hand inside Festus's left paw and Ara hears a click, the dragon folds until it's a block of bronze. "Um... yeah. Hold on. I think—aha!" A handle pops up along with four wheels at the bottom. "Ta-da! The world's heaviest carry-on bag!"

"Cool!" Ara gets closer to examine it. Every time Leo gets that reaction out of her, he looks ready to throw himself off a rooftop.

"That's impossible," Jason exclaims. "Something that big couldn't—"

"Stop!" Zethes and his brother suddenly point their swords at Leo.

"Hey!" Ara makes her own weapon appear. "What's your problem?"

Leo raises his hands. "Okay... what'd I do? Stay calm, guys. If it bothers you that much, I don't have to take the dragon as carry-on—"

"Who are you? A child of the South Wind, spying on us?"

"What? No! Son of Hephaestus. Friendly blacksmith, no harm to anyone!"

"Smell fire," Cal gets closer. "Fire is bad."

"Oh. Yeah, well... my clothes are kind of singed, and I've been working with oil, and—"

"No!" Zethes tries to touch Leo but Ara keeps him away with her sword. "We can smell fire, demigod. We assumed it was from the creaky dragon, but now the dragon is a suitcase. And I still smell fire... on you."

Ara glances at Leo. He is hiding something. "Hey... look... I don't know—Guys, a little help?"

"Look, there's been a mistake. Leo isn't a fire guy. Tell them, Leo. Tell them you're not a fire guy," Jason says, which is not great.

"Um..." Leo's indecision makes Ara uneasy.

"Piper," she could do this, but it's better for her sister to get comfortable with her powers. "Talk some sense into these boys, please?"

The girl understands right away. "Zethes? We're all friends here. Put down your swords and let's talk."

"The girl is pretty," he hums, "and of course she cannot help being attracted to my amazingness; but sadly, I cannot romance her at this time."

"Destroy him now?"

"Sadly, I think—"

"No," Jason insists. "Leo's just a son of Hephaestus. He's no threat. Piper here is a daughter of Aphrodite. I'm the son of Zeus. We're on a peaceful..."

"What did you say?" Zethes snaps. "You are the son of Zeus?"

"Um... yeah," he pauses. "That's a good thing, right? My name is Jason."

"Can't be Jason," Cal says stupidly. "Doesn't look the same."

"No, he is not our Jason. Our Jason was more stylish. Not as much as me—but stylish. Besides, our Jason died millennia ago."

"Wait," the boy continues. "Your Jason... you mean the original Jason? The Golden Fleece guy?"

"Of course! We were his crewmates aboard his ship, the Argo, in the old times, when we were mortal demigods. Then we accepted immortality to serve our father, so I could look this good for all time, and my silly brother could enjoy pizza and hockey."

So many demigods gave up their mortality, and most of them had done it for such stupid reasons! Ara can't believe Percy's the exception to the rule, she's seen him push a pull door way too many times.

"Hockey!" Cal says happily.

"But Jason—our Jason—he died a mortal death. You can't be him."

"I'm not."

"So, destroy?"

"No," Zethes pouts. "If he is a son of Zeus, he could be the one we've been watching for. He's with Jackson, after all."

"Watching for?" Leo repeats. "You mean like in a good way: you'll shower him with fabulous prizes? Or watching for like in a bad way: he's in trouble?"

"That depends on my father's will," a girl's voice announces.

A brief flash of light comes out of Leo as soon as he sees the girl, but it's so short-lived Ara doesn't even distinguish its color. She scowls at him. Really? Right now? But she doesn't say anything out loud, she's the only one who can see those things anyway.

The goddess is asking Jason to join her father, apparently, he's got some judgment to make, but Leo is not allowed to come. Jason and Piper don't want to leave him, and Ara doesn't want to either, she doesn't trust Leo will stay put.

He smiles and obediently sits on top of Festus. "It's fine, guys. No sense causing trouble if we don't have to. You go ahead."

Again, Ara's intrigued. Half the time he's hyper and impatient and now he's just... half a smile that does not reach his eyes. She's never met anyone like him, someone made out of halves.

"Listen to your friend," the young goddess tells them. "Leo Valdez will be perfectly safe. I wish I could say the same for you. Now come, King Boreas is waiting."

Ara wants to sit and have a full-fledged conversation with Leo about his feelings and how he perceives the world, but she's lost practice. Before it was easy to pay attention to others, but Ara's obligations positioned her above many things, including day-to-day interaction with campers.

Lily's impression of me changes after Capture the Flag."This is your first time playing so don't worry, they won't notice you," I undo the clasp of her armor vest before she can stop me and fix it for her.

"What do you mean?" She frowns.

"You're new, they won't ask you to do anything."

She's deeply upset about this. "They should take advantage of all their assets!"

"We're not tools," I tilt my head with amusement. Lily's lived on the streets for far too long. "If you're so sure you can handle it, though... there's something I've always wanted to try."

She wavers. "What is it?"

"I think I can reach the flag faster than our leader. No one ever pays attention to me and it'd be really funny if we get there first instead of our Captain. What do you say?"

Lily makes a face. "That's not a plan."

"Are you a chicken, Saggio?" I don't know why I tease her, but she looks funny when she's angry.

"No!"

"A drachma says I can get to the flag before you can!" I sprint out of sight.

I hear her trying to catch up and that makes me giggle. I move as quickly as possible, but then, just when I'm reaching the limits, Lily comes out of nowhere and tackles me to the ground. We're both lifted in the air and end up hanging upside down from a tree.

"Why did you do that?" I complain. "We could've won!"

"I wasn't letting you get there first, you turned it into a competition!" She says. "What is this?"

"Rope. Beckendorf did it, so we're stuck here until someone finds us. Or so he says..."

"What do you mean?"

"These are designed for heavier demigods," I look up—down, actually—and follow the rope to see where it ends."I'll take your knife, the rope's tied in my direction."

"Turn us around!"

"Are any of your arms free?"

She groans, trying to release herself. "It's my knife!"

"You're bossy," I sigh. "Sit tight while I free us, boss."

I squirm for five whole minutes, but the rope's only getting tighter. Lily tries to stop me, but I'm not giving up. Finally, after a long struggle... Lily's dagger falls out of her belt.

She lets her head hang in defeat. "I'll scream."

"No!"

"Why not?" She presses. "There's nothing we can do!"

I was telling the truth when I said this was something I'd been planning to do for quite a while, but this is not how I wanted it to go. "We can't be seen like this, your rep will be ruined!"

Two arrows fly through the gap between us, one of them scratches us but we're released in less than a second. Lily lands sideways and I land on my back.

"Well, well..." a small boy walks up to us smirking. "Out of all the campers, I never thought they'd send you."

I smile sweetly. "Hey, bud, if you can find it in your heart to let us go..."

He seizes two new arrows from his quiver and points them at us. "Get up."

Lily sits up, immensely disappointed... so I start talking.

"Michael," I charmspeak him. "Hand me your bow." His shoulders relax and the arrows fall at his feet, then he gives me his bow.

"Che cosa..!" Lily whispers in shock.

"The quiver too," Michael hands it to me. I look at it, then at him. "Forget this happened and go to sleep." He drops to the ground, snoring loudly. "So..." I hand Lily the bow. "He caught me, you knocked him out and took his weapons before he could take me. Fair play."

The more agitated she gets, the more it stands out that accent she has. "Have you always been able to do that?"

"You were going to lose, and now you're going back with a prisoner. They'll give you a bigger role next time thanks to that."

"But I didn't do this!"

"So what?" I shrug. "Next time you'll do something better, that'll be enough to compensate for the lie. There is no honor in going down by charmspeak, Lily. You're tough and Michael's got a bad temper, it'll make both of you look good."

"But I'm..." I can't tell if she's angry or flustered. "I was stubborn, I don't deserve a win."

"I was pushing your buttons," I admit. "Please, Michael will prefer this over the truth."

Lily's not convinced. "And you?"

"Teach me to be quiet and we'll be even," I pick up her dagger.

"I wouldn't want you as my enemy," she seizes her weapon and places it on her belt. The gash Michael made on our wrists is bleeding, hers is on the left wrist and mine's on the right. "It's a deal."

Next Chapter ->

Taglist.

@siriuslysirius1107 @ask-giggles1303 @ash-the-hoarder @im-planning-something-look @bandshirts-andbooks @coolninjapaper @thewaterlily @whenisthefall @1randomcomic @you-bloody-shank @sunflowergraves @owlalex44 @taylordaughter @typicalsolangelolover @writingmia @espressopatronum454 @slytherinnqueen

#twoidiots writing #pjo fanfic #pjo hoo toa #pjo fandom #percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #leo valdez x oc #leo valdez fanfic #doo #heroes of olympus

20 notes · View notes

henry1986 · 1 year ago

Text

Guiding (Gale x Tav)

This is my first ever Tumblr post after years of lurking. I wanted to format it differently, but it's been so long so I've written anything that I can't get back into my ao3 account, so here we are. (BleuHenri on there, btw. Wrote a kickass Labyrinth fanfic some years ago now).

This may be the only thing I write or share, but something in me has been longing to share fic again after so long. Had a shitty relationship that crushed my spirit so I stopped doing anything that brought me joy...you know how it be. Now I'm super happy and adjusted to life and letting my old self come back.

The TLDR: Random oneshot about Gale and my named Tav (Fits) from Baldur's Gate because this game is insanely amazing and I fucking love Gale and I love my little oc Fits (urchin tiefling druid who named himself 'Fits' with an s because he just wants to belong).

Summary: Fits doesn't do well with the unknown. So being blinded by a spell in the middle of a battle is not his ideal situation. Cue panic attack, and cue the voice of a certain adorable wizard he's been flirting with for weeks now. Gale to the rescue!

Story Below:

It’s all fun and games until someone loses an eye. Dry and rot, what he wouldn’t give to be a child once more, laughing off his mother’s cautions with the arrogance of youth. His current situation is neither fun nor remotely game-like, so it seems unfair that he still has to suffer the drawbacks. Today one of Fits’ few childhood memories has come back to bite him in the tail.

He’s probably going to murder Volo if they make it out of this mess.

But who is more the fool, he wonders briefly, the one with the ice pick or the one offering himself up like needlepoint? Either way he knows it’s not fair to blame the bard. Mistakes have been made, his party has been ambushed by bandits, and now he can’t see a godsdamned thing, false eye or no. Where just minutes ago his sharp tiefling vision would catch movement in any shadow, now he sees nothing but black. And what’s worse, his companions seem not to have noticed. Well, that’s his fault for breaking formation and getting separated. Stupid, stubborn rock that he is. And now that stubbornness has cost him his sight – possibly even his life.

The sounds of the battle thrash his ears, now sensitive in compensation. Somewhere to the left Karlach’s grunts mix with the dull thud of hammer on shield. The bandits shriek and curse and scream and…gargle? Perhaps that one has just met Astarion’s fangs. It would serve them right for thinking to rob a half-starved group of exhausted travellers. The thought of Gale’s stew simmering back at camp has been on everyone’s minds during the long trek back. To be delayed further has no doubt pissed them off to no end.

“Desperados and cutthroats I don’t mind, but why did we have to find the only bandits clever enough to find a mage to fight for them?” Karlach had lamented as their attackers had unleashed their secret weapon. Gale had snorted, deriding the man in torn robes as nothing more than a charlatan with a few spell scrolls on hand.

The origin of the magic is a moot point – it hasn’t made Fits any less blind. And now he’s wondering if he should call for help, or if that will alert nearby enemies, and just what is he supposed to do? His mouth is dry as a creek bed in summer. His tail flicks an anxious metronome. The not knowing has always been his undoing. Fits is no stranger to pain and loss, same as many others. If there’s a burden that needs shouldering, he’ll take the weight with few complaints. But the not knowing…the archer he’d seen earlier might still be perched atop that rocky outcrop, not yet aware of his advantage on the blinded druid. Or he might already know, and there are precious few seconds left to find shelter. He might be knocking a fresh arrow right now, as Fits stumbles backwards over a rock and hits the ground. He might be lining him up in his sights as Fits grasps desperately around for anything to use as a shield, for a tree to hide behind, for his dropped staff or –

He’s a child again, youthful arrogance snuffed to embers, no longer lucky enough to have parents to caution him. The streets are filthy and bustling, danger lurking in the shadows. He’s small, so small in this big city with no idea of where to go or around which corner the next beating will take place –

Sounds blur into a single crushing weight, ringing in his ears. His breathing is fast as a swallow bursting from its nest, like a thousand swallows in a thousand nests trying to fly free all at the same time. Usually so dextrous, his stiff hands curl in on themselves like gnarled trees aged by time. Hopelessly he drags one numb hand across his face, risking damage to his good eye by rubbing at it so viciously, desperate to make it see, please just see…

Someone’s gentle hand stills his movements.

“Come on now, no need for that. Just breathe,” someone says, prying fingers away from his face. And then three words to change everything: “I’ve got you.”

The voice is fixed with the luxury of knowing – of always knowing – and tempered by reassurance. It’s so familiar his heart leaps into his throat. Relief douses his panic so violently it’s difficult not to collapse with the intensity of it. The city streets and their thugs are cast out of mind, thrown back to the recesses of memory to haunt another day. “Gale. I...my – eyes.” The words won’t come. They’re still struggling against the tide of his laboured breathing. Through the numbness in his hands he feels the barest hint of warmth; Gale’s fingers do not stray from his, lending him strength.

“Ah, so your hearing is still keen as ever, good to know. Though how you can hear anything over the utter racket Karlach is making, I don’t know. Honestly, get between a barbarian and her next meal and may the gods protect you…”

Fits doesn’t hear the rest of the wizard’s rambling. I’ve got you. Has anyone ever said that to him in his life? Surely his parents must have at some point. There must have been a moment where he existed not as an urchin to be kicked but as a child that belonged to someone. If ever that time was, he doesn’t recall it. I’ve got you. It’s difficult with legs that feel like dead weight but he manages to climb to his feet and throw his arms around Gale. Grace is not his strong point in this moment. Gale catches him with a gently breathed ‘ooph’ as Fits bumps into different bits of him all at once.

Everything is intensified in his blindness: the pressure of Gale’s hands slipping around his waist to keep them upright, the pulsing scent of their mingled sweat and the tang of blood that speaks of fresh injury. “You’re hurt.” His fingers stumble along Gale’s arm and find a tear in the fabric. The skin beneath is slick with blood, coating his gently probing fingers.

“How in the hells did you know that? You’re blinder than the proverbial bat.” Gale sounds as if he’s trying very hard to sound amused. Fits hasn’t missed the sharp breaths that begin and end his question, a parenthesis of doubt.

“Your blood…smells strange. Different.” He inhales both to calm himself and to further investigate Gale’s scent. Fascinating.

“Ah. That would be the orb’s influence. Let me assure you, in normal circumstances my blood is indistinguishable from any others’. I’m sorry if the odour offends your sensitive nose.”

“I said it was different, not bad.” The sounds of the fight flicker and die for the briefest moment as they stand together. Gale’s hands flutter around his back before settling on a place below his shoulder blades. His fingertips meet at the spine and stay there with gentle pressure. So decisive. He wonders if the man has ever been unsure of anything in his life. What that must feel like… “I didn’t think anyone saw me go down,” Fits murmurs against the starched collar of Gale’s robes. The smell of him is grounding, chasing away his panic. “I cursed my own stupidity for straying so far off.”

“Yes – well. I admit I did question the intelligence of your decision to pursue that ‘mage’ –” he spits the word out with scorn – “On your own. And good thing I kept an eye out for you, too. I saw the spell hit you and I thought...” His voice lilts with care, stepping over the words as though they themselves are creatures to be soothed. “I know you don’t do well with the unknown. I didn’t think you’d much care for blindness.”

Fits’ anxiety has become no secret to the wizard in the last few weeks. He’s never been more grateful to have such a confidant. Especially when a hail of somethings whizz right by, spraying around them like deadly rain, and he feels the warmth of Gale’s magic envelop them both in a shield. It’s like stepping into honeyed sunlight from a cool spring shadow. His skin prickles. He can feel it even after they’ve stepped apart. Gale’s magic always feels so different to his own.

“Will you two stop flirting for one gods-damned minute and do something useful?!”

Fits winces at Astarion’s tone. Usually, the elf takes great delight in watching the two of them dance awkwardly around each other. Apparently his patience only stretches so far on long days. Fits shakes the moment off, refusing to imagine a lovely blush on Gale’s cheeks when he hears the man cough pointedly. It’s difficult to focus with nothing to visually keep his attention, but he figures they should probably start helping.

“I don’t suppose you could be my seeing-eye wizard until this spell wears off?” he asks lightly, amazed at the recovery of his confidence.

“It would be my absolute pleasure,” Gale replies.

Fits can hear the curved edges of his smile. When they clasp hands, it feels as if for the first time – every ridge and dip of Gale’s palm is treasured new information. He catalogues the placement of each ring on the man’s fingers, evaluates the silver clang of them against his own single allowance of metal: his mother’s ring. Their hands sway as Gale swoops down momentarily with a soft grunt – his knees often protest such actions – and then he returns the precious weight of Fits’ staff to his free hand. With that the last of his anxiety pools to dull thunder in the back of his head, and they get to work.

When the last bandit collapses to the ground a short time later, Karlach’s triumphant call for dinner is echoed back by all. They trudge back to camp, tired but enthusiastic. Astarion asks if there’s any of that half-decent wine still left. Usually this leads to a quick but snarky conversation between him and Gale. ‘If you took any interest in maintaining the camp supplies, you’d know the answer to that.’ ‘But you do such a fine job of it darling, I’d simply mess it up if I tried to help.’ ‘That sounds awfully familiar to your arguments against chopping firewood and washing dishes.’ ‘But true nonetheless.’ They say no such things tonight. Gale’s thumb brushes Fits’ and he tells Astarion in a distracted voice that yes there might be some left, certainly, he’d have a look.

They find a comfortable alignment on the path back, Fits trusting the wizard to guide him. Each time the party changes direction or pauses to scout, Gale murmurs a soft instruction. It’s an experience that would have been terrifying for him at most other times in his life. He’s never completely given himself over to the care of someone else, let alone someone he’s known so short a time. But Gale is different. They’ve been friends from the moment Fits pulled him out of that portal. And now…well, Gale warns him about rocks in the path and at one point helps him climb a fallen log. The sensation of straddling the tree with Gale’s voice so close in his ear – “That’s it, up you go, just like that –” does things to his insides that are better left for late night contemplation.

Eventually his vision returns, the comforting greens of nature a welcome sight, Lae’zel’s torchlight too bright for his sensitive eye - the one that hasn't been gouged out by an ice pick. Yet for all his relief he somehow feels a pang of loss, like the unravelling of a well-kept secret between two people. So as his eyes readjust Fits says nothing, enjoying the feel of Gale’s fingers jostling his in their loose grip, walking along in silence. If Gale notices at some point the druid’s steps become more confident, his pace not at all like that of a man still blinded…well. He doesn’t say anything, and they don’t stop holding hands the whole way back to camp.

#bg3 oc #baldurs gate 3 #gale baldurs gate 3 #my tav #tav bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav #gale dekarios

12 notes · View notes

sopebubbles · 2 years ago

Text

Chapter Nine

Summary: How many men will it take to save you? To be honest, you’ve gotten pretty used to saving yourself. Even though you’re far from a delicate thing, Los Angeles is a dangerous place you can’t seem to escape no matter how hard you try. The top 7 members of Bangtan should never have crossed your path, but they soon find they’d do just about anything to help you escape your past and make it safe for you to stay. But will you?

Genre: mafia au, poly ot7, angst, some smut, honestly a lot more fluff than i expected, POC reader/oc A/n: Thank you for your patience everyone! You're the best, most amazing angel baby sugar plum honey bunches of oatest with the mostest 🥺💕

Warnings: language, torture, scars from torture/branding, dissociation, nonconsensual kissing

Word count: 8.7K

<-previous | master list | next->

When your mind awoke, you could already guess where you were before your heavy-lidded eyes could even try to open. The telltale tug on your wrists and shoulders told you that you were strung up from the ceiling in Joaquin's house. At least you were resting on your knees, your upper body being held up by the ropes attached to your wrists instead of your entire body weight hanging—not that this was particularly comfortable either. Your legs screamed in pain, but you did not.

Slowly, you forced your eyes open, blinking in and out of darkness. You almost admired the way Moreno was insane enough to torture people in a room with glass walls, so assured of his invulnerability. At least you had a view of the ocean and the full moon that glinted off the rolling waves.

Your limbs still felt heavy and your mind cloudy like it did at the bar before you passed out. You tried to turn your body to look around, but you couldn't sense anyone else in the room with you. You wanted to stand up to relieve your upper body, but you just couldn't do it. After a few minutes of struggling to fully gain consciousness, of fighting to make your body do anything, your eyes closed again.

When you woke up again, it was because your hands were being yanked upwards, closer to the ceiling, pulling you to your feet until you were just on your tiptoes. It was still dark outside, but there were definitely people in the room with you now. You groaned.

"I'm sorry we had to bring you here like this, princesa. But you have not been obedient and now I have to punish you."

You groaned again at the sound of Joaquin's voice. It was the most unpleasant sound you could have woken up to, and why was he speaking in English? You twisted yourself around in your toes to look at him where he stood across the room leaned over his desk, a blade and a phone on the surface in front of him.

"I was wondering why you weren't taking my calls, but now I see you got a new phone. The latest model. Very nice. Is that all it takes to make you betray me? A few expensive gadgets?" Joaquin picked up the knife on his desk and walked around to where you were dangling.

"I didn't!" You croaked out.

He pressed the cold metal of the blade to your lips. "Shh, princesa." You whimpered, but kept your mouth shut. "You're supposed to be helping me, in order to gain your freedom, remember? Or is it that you don't want your freedom anymore, and you've finally accepted that you're mine." He slid the flat side of the blade down your chin.

"I'm trying, Joaquin," you gasped.

"What information do you have for me?"

"Nothing yet. I have to gain their trust before they'll give me-"

"Trust?" He interrupted. "Doesn't your lover trust you? Mm maybe not, since he gave you that ugly black eye. He must have been very upset with you for leaving. I can understand."

"Joaquin, please, it's only been a few days. I'll get you what you need. But if you keep taking me they'll only get suspicious." It was hard to reason with him as he continued to skim your skin with cool steel. "Do they already know that you're mine?" Joaquin asked before he pulled up your shirt. "Did he see my marks on your skin? Is that why he hit you?"

You winced as he ran his rough hands over his handy work.

"I think you need a reminder of who exactly you belong to, Yn. So you'll know, even if you leave, that you'll always be mine."

"No, don't. Please," you cried as you felt the sharp edge of his knife break the skin over your ribs, under your left breast. "I'm sorry," you sobbed. "I'll try harder. You don't have to-" you yelled as he made another cut.

"You don't have to try anymore, princesa. I've decided that what's best for you is to stay here. It's just so much simpler." He wiped the blade on his pants and stopped to look at your face. "I thought this would be a fun game to play. But I've been missing you ever since you were here the other day, and I've decided I would rather have you back than a whole empire." He grabbed your jaw roughly. "You're meant to be with me, Y/n. It was always meant to be."

"No," you breathed as he kissed you.

The door to the office opened and one of his henchmen stuck his head in. "Jefe," he said simply, getting Joaquin's attention. "There's a call from Tijuana."

"Tell them I'm busy."

"They said it was urgent."

Joaquin cursed under his breath, looking harshly into your eyes for a moment. He walked over to his desk and set his knife down.

"Lower her down. I don't want to exhaust her. I'm nowhere near done with her," Joaquin instructed before he left the room. As soon as the door was closed the man brought you down to the ground low enough for you to sit on your haunches, and then he left too. You took a moment to catch your breath before you pulled yourself up to kneel, getting the rope to slack enough to untie yourself. Your ability to undo knots was one of your most useful skills, and one people never seemed to catch onto. It took a few minutes to work the ropes enough to get one hand free, but that was all you needed. Once you were free you pulled down your shirt, ignoring the sting as the fabric touched the raw edges of your wounds, and rushed over to the desk to retrieve your phone. You had only six percent battery left and you needed to make it count. After this you weren't sure how far back your trust with Bangtan would be set and you needed them more than ever. As quietly as you could, you pulled open the drawers of Joaquin's desk and looked for anything that might be useful. You found a folder labeled Triads and laid it out on the desk. You didn't have the time to analyze the information for what it was or even if it would be useful. The fact that you got it would have to be enough to win you points with Namjoon and Seokjin. Your battery drained to five percent and the phone informed you that you didn't have enough power to take pictures. Cursing, you turned off the device and slid it into your back pocket before closing the file and putting it back where you found it.

You found your jacket you'd worn last night abandoned on the floor just as you heard voices return in the hallway, so you hurried to the door that led from the office to the terrace and wrenched it open. You could hear alarmed shouts from inside the house as you sprinted across the length of the house toward the ramp that led down to the beach, but you didn't look back. You just ran as fast as you could move your legs. It became harder as you reached the sand, but you pushed in, coarse grains scratching between your toes. Your legs burned. A bullet hit the sand a yard behind you, but you didn't quit running until you were at least a mile down the beach from his house.

Your lungs burned and even though your mind told you to keep going, they couldn't. You collapsed on the shore, just a few yards from where the waves bathed the sand, and tried to catch your breath. You laid there for a few minutes before you forced yourself to your feet. You checked your phone, but it was dead and useless now, so you stored it away and began walking down the beach. The sky was beginning to lighten up in the east, and you weren't sure how long you'd have to walk before you found a way to get back to Beverly Hills.

All seven men were back at Namjoon's mansion, but as a side effect of being drugged, the only one sleeping was Hoseok. The others were sitting with Namjoon, trying to get Jimin to find a way to get them past the gate of Joaquin's community without busting straight through it, which for Taehyung seemed like a reasonable option. Someone's phone rang and they scrambled to find their devices. When your name flashed on his phone, Namjoon answered it frantically.

"Val?" He called out nervously before putting it on speaker. But there was no reply. "Val where are you?"

When a voice finally came through from the other end, it was Joaquin's, chastising you for not obeying his orders. Namjoon called to you again, but it was clear that although they could hear your whines and pleas, neither of you could hear him. All the men listened closely as Joaquin continued his menacing speech to you. They didn't know exactly what was causing your whimpers, but Namjoon, Taehyung and Yoongi all sat with clenched fists while he talked to you. Jungkook paced in the background. Only Seokjin and Jimin listened with any kind of calm.

Namjoon's heart sank when he heard you deny having information to share, and fell further when you mentioned a lack of trust. You did have information you could share. Maybe not much, but you could have told him something, anything you knew to make the man stop what he was doing to you. But you didn't. And what was worse, you worried that getting captured would make Namjoon take back the trust he'd already given you.

Beside him, Seokjin rubbed his thumb and forefinger in small circles—a passive habit he had when he was listening and thinking. He stared blankly at the phone your voice was coming from. Truthfully, Seokjin hadn't fully formed his opinion of you. He certainly didn't trust you. And the information coming through from Malibu wasn't helping at all. Yes, you had told them exactly what deal you had made with Moreno as soon as you got to the mansion less than a week ago, but it didn't make your intentions any clearer. As far as he was concerned you were still a liability.

While Moreno's words may have muddied the waters for Seokjin, they brought astounding clarity to Taehyung, who sat to his right. He flinched when Joaquin suggested that he was the cause of your black eye, but whatever your reason was, he didn't blame you for not correcting the assumption. Taehyung would never hit you, not before he knew who you really were and not now. But as he listened, he could hear just how much like your captor he sounded. He heard his words 'you belong to me' with so much more malice than he ever intended, but that didn't matter because he could understand how they must have sounded to you. And not just the other day but for weeks. The marks on your skin you never wanted to talk about were the physical manifestation of such wicked thoughts, and he finally understood.

Truly, the words of your torturer passed right through Yoongi's ears. Whether or not your intention was to destroy Bangtan was the least of his concerns. The only thing he heard were your whimpers and pleas for mercy that went unheeded. When you cried out from the pain of the blade, Yoongi shot to the edge of his seat, as if he wanted to reach out for you through the phone. From then on he was consumed by a singular desire to bring you back and patch you up; to make all the hurting stop, for good.

Jungkook was equally unconcerned by the words he heard. He didn't care at all what plots Moreno had against his family. He only cared that he already considered you part of it and that you were being hurt. As he paced, his only thoughts were how to kill the man who caused you pain. He could think of a dozen ways and he'd talk with Hoseok later about more detailed plans. When Moreno's conversation with you was interrupted and the line went dead with three dull beeps, Jungkook stopped the track he was wearing into the tile and stood behind Namjoon, hands rubbing at his lover's shoulders.

"What do we do, hyung?"

Before Namjoon could answer, Jimin was already out of his chair and headed across the house to his basement lair filled with blinking computers and large monitors. He didn't know why he waited so long to act. He didn't need to listen to that whole call to know what he needed to do. Although Jimin had technically known you as long as Taehyung had, he didn't feel a particular attachment to you. Taehyung had kept you mostly to himself and Jimin honestly wasn't jealous. The time he had spent around you, he was much more focused on your friend. And even though he had no animosity toward you, Jimin was annoyed at the way you had treated Taehyung the last few days, so he'd been avoiding you. None of that mattered now though. He could read the room, and he knew how attached the others felt to you, so he knew he had to find you, and quickly. He only berated himself for waiting so damn long to do it.

Namjoon took a deep breath as he watched Jimin's figure retreat from the room and placed a hand over Jungkook's.

"We should do nothing," Seokjin answered before Namjoon could formulate a response. Four pairs of eyes ranging from shocked to irate turned to look at him.

"We can't do nothing, hyung," Jungkook nearly whined.

"Look, I know you've all grown attached to her, but you need to think clearly. You heard them. She's been trying to gain our trust to get information she can give to Moreno. We can't trust her. She's not one of ours, and we have no responsibility to do anything about this at all. She's with her family, where she belongs," he concluded coldly.

Seokjin had been raised by the top of the top in Bangtan's international syndicate, headquartered in Seoul. His loyalty to the organization came before (almost) anything else. And although bringing in outsiders wasn't impossible, it wasn't something he felt open to with you. Jungkook, Hoseok and Jimin were different. He knew where they came from and he could rely on their loyalty. You were still a mystery to him and your intentions too clouded.

Namjoon's hand clenched around the arm of the leather chair he sat on. "No." Seokjin raised an eyebrow at the leader. "La Familia is not her family. We can't let her stay with anyone who treats her like that. He's torturing her and she won't even give him the little information she has. We have to find a way to get her out of there."

The others made sounds of agreement as they looked back at Seokjin. Normally, the eldest's opinion carried a lot of weight, as much as Namjoon's when the leader was undecided, but in this instance he could see he was outnumbered. It wouldn't do him any good to try to stop them. He could only wonder what Hoseok would say, but that man was in Yoongi's clinic, sleeping off the effects of the drug he had been given, so he stood alone.

Namjoon's phone chimed with a text message, and all the men except the oldest leaned in to find out what was going on.

"Jimin wants us in the basement," Namjoon informed them as he stood up and all the others followed him.

There were no lights on in Jimin's room, but it wasn't necessary with how large and bright his screens were. Each panel displayed different information. One showed a satellite view of a large beach front property. Another, the security camera view of a gated community. Others were running codes. On one screen was a mugshot and rap sheet of Joaquin Moreno, and beside it on another screen a picture of you, but one where you were clearly much younger. The five men gathered around while Jimin moved between windows with his mouse.

"I was able to pinpoint the phone's current location to this house in Malibu. This is Moreno's compound. It's protected by the gate at the entrance as well as several cameras and armed guards. It has private beach access, but it would be a really terrible idea to go that way, since they'd see you coming from a mile away. I just connected to the front gate though, and I can open it with a click." Jimin demonstrated and they all watched the gate on the screen open to no one.

"Can you get blueprints of the property?" Namjoon asked as he watched the satellite image of the complex, which couldn't be live because it was broad daylight.

Jimin turned to another screen and began to search while the others diverted their attention to various other screens. Jungkook read the information on display about Moreno, while Yoongi, Taehyung and Seokjin all had their eyes fixed on the older picture of you. It appeared to be a school picture, you were smiling awkwardly, and you couldn't have been older than fourteen.

"What have you been able to find about Y/N Y/L/N?" Seokjin asked suddenly.

Jimin shook his head, fingers never pausing. "Not much, honestly. Born April 19th, 2000, in Veracruz, Mexico. Mother, Juana Amaral, died September 12, 2004. I found some report cards. Not a great student. A missing persons report was filed in June 2015 for her and her father, but it doesn't look like it was ever investigated."

"The Cartel probably buried it," Namjoon mutters.

Jimin shrugs. "Most likely. There's nothing about her in the United States under her birth name or the alias she's been using. Moreno must have kept her under lock and key."

"She did say she didn't finish high school," Yoongi remembered.

"That would make sense."

"I got the plans," Jimin interjected, drawing Namjoon's attention away from your face. "Looks like there are entrances here, here and here. But they're all protected by a security system."

"Can you get past it?"

"I can try. But it's going to take me a little while."

"Send those plans to my phone. Taehyung, Jungkook, let's make a plan for how we're gonna get her out of there. Yoongi, get ready for us to bring her home."

Yoongi nodded and they all turned to leave, but found Hoseok standing in the doorway. "I'd like to go get her."

"Hobi, you're still not well," Seokjin said softly, affection coloring his voice.

"I will be fine. This is my fault. I need to bring her back." Hoseok looked determinedly at his leader, who looked at Yoongi.

"Let's go back up to the clinic and I'll get you on some fluids to speed up the process."

"Wait," Namjoon stopped them before they could leave. "We're going to bring Val back," he promised, looking around at his members. "And when we do, there are two new rules of Bangtan. Anyone who forces her into something she doesn't want will answer to me. And Joaquin Moreno will die before he ever touches her again."

All his men nodded and began to disperse to prepare. "Figure out how to get us in there Jimin, we'll work out the rest."

After getting Hoseok back on the bed and hooked up to an IV to clear his system and replenish his body, Yoongi moved silently around the room, setting out supplies to heal your unknown wounds. He laid out a needle and thread, a mountain of bandages. Even without seeing his face, Hoseok could tell how worried the doctor was. He could see it in the way his head bent low and his shoulders sat high and tense. His hands shook as he looked at other instruments he had on hand. He didn't want to think about what injuries you might sustain before they were able to get to you.

"I'm sorry, hyung," Hoseok said softly, causing both Seokjin and Yoongi to turn to him.

Yoongi's face softened just a little at the younger man and he shook his head. "Stop blaming yourself, Hobi. It could've happened to anyone."

"But she's in danger because of me."

"No, she's in danger because Moreno is a lunatic," Yoongi corrected.

Hoseok felt sick. "The things he did to her, hyung. He's ruined her. She told me about her scars-"

"We heard," Seokjin told him, threading his fingers into the slender man's hair. Hoseok's brow furrowed, making Jin sigh. "Moreno called us on Y/n's phone so we could listen to him torture her. He mentioned the scars."

"She prefers Val," Yoongi reminded him, looking away before he could see Jin's eyeroll. Hoseok stood up and tried to remove his IV, but Yoongi stopped him.

"I didn't think you cared so much, Hoseok," Jin said with raised brows.

"We talked last night, while we drank," the younger man shrugged.

"And you believe everything she told you?"

He nodded. "She's so damaged, hyung. Just like me when you found me. You can't fake something like that."

"I'll put her back together," Yoongi mumbled under his breath.

Hoseok looked sadly at the doctor. "She's going to need a lot of care before she'll believe she deserves it."

"One thing at a time. Get her back. I'll patch her up. Then we can do the rest," Yoongi muttered, looking at his tools. Hoseok merely nodded.

Seokjin's expression softened as he looked at his lover. They'd been together over a decade now, and he often forgot just how broken Hoseok had been in those early days, just how much he'd needed Jin and Bangtan. He was a different man now, one that the older male valued highly, both personally and for the organization. Hoseok was his advisor and confidant, and if he had decided to trust you—even if he wanted you—Seokjin would have no choice but to get on board. He placed a firm hand on his shoulder and a kiss on his forehead.

"I guess I'll have to help her, too."

Hoseok smiled up at him and leaned into his side. "Thank you, hyung."

The sun had fully risen above the horizon by the time Jimin told Namjoon, Taehyung and Jungkook that everything was set for the break in. But Hoseok insisted that he was fine and wouldn't be stopped from going on the mission, so Jungkook stayed behind instead.

They'd noticed that the signal on your phone had gone missing, though Jimin assured them it probably just meant your battery was dead. They had no way of knowing that you had already freed yourself. They couldn't know as they were speeding down the highway that you were passing them by in the opposite direction.

You'd nearly passed out again by the time you reached a populated city center. You thought maybe you were hallucinating the taxi due to your exhaustion, but you managed to convince the driver to take you back to Beverly Hills. He was reluctant, given the state of you, but you promised him a big tip if he did. You had to fight to stay awake as he drove so that you could give him directions since you didn't know the address. When he finally pulled into the circular driveway, you practically fell out of the car.

"Hey lady, you owe me fifty-three dollars!" The man yelled at you as you stumbled to the door.

"Just hold on a goddamn minute, hijo de puta," you mumbled under your breath as he idled behind you. You rang the doorbell an obnoxious number of times, but at least you got results. You nearly fell inside when Yoongi yanked the door open.

"Val!" He reached out to hold you up.

"Oppa. Can you?" You gestured back toward the taxi driver as you gripped your side.

Yoongi looked panicked at your obvious pain, but if he wanted to take care of you he'd have to get rid of this guy first. "Jungkook, get her to my clinic, now," Yoongi instructed the larger man behind him as he walked out, patting his pockets for his wallet.

Jungkook caught you just before you dropped, holding you bridal style in both of his strong arms. "Hey there, princess," he smiled down at you.

"Don't call me princess," you groaned as he carried you into the house.

Yoongi dug out a one hundred dollar bill and handed it to the cabbie without blinking. "Keep the change."

The man looked at the large bill in his hand as Yoongi walked away. "Um, I think your friend bled on my seat back there."

Yoongi nearly growled as he turned back to the man. He crumpled a fifty dollar bill and tossed it inside the open window. "Get lost."

The man gave a satisfied smile and rolled up his window before driving away. By the time Yoongi got back inside and closed the door, Seokjin was standing in the foyer with a phone to his ear.

"Get your asses back here. Val just walked in the front door," he informed them the moment Namjoon picked up.

"Is she okay?" Hoseok asked.

"Well she didn't look like she'd been for a walk in the park, but she’s still standing," Seokjin watched as Yoongi rushed past him to get to you.

"How does she always manage to save herself before we can even get there?" Taehyung asked in astonishment.

"She did say she's an expert in survival. She's been doing it since long before we came around," Namjoon noted.

"Just get back here, alright?"

"Yeah, we're turning around."

After he set you on the exam table Jungkook stepped away and looked at the blood on his hand from the spot where he held your side. "Val, you're bleeding," he murmured as Yoongi came into the room. There was a part of him that thought everything would be okay as soon as you were back in the mansion, that maybe the whole phone call was a bad dream, but the sticky red stain on his hand made it real.

"I'm fine," you breathed, even as you swayed. Your face was pale, but Yoongi tried to stay calm.

"Where are you bleeding from, sweetheart?" he asked, hands anxious to grab the proper tools.

"It's okay," you insisted hazily.

"You will be, but I need to patch you up," he urged you gently.

"It's her left side, hyung," Jungkook told him as he washed his hands in the sink.

Yoongi went closer to examine your side, but there were no obvious signs in your all black clothing.

"Can you take off your jacket and your shirt, sweetheart?" Yoongi asked softly, but you flinched. "I promise I won't hurt you, and it's nothing I haven't seen before. I need to see your wound."

You squeezed your eyes shut and lifted your hands to remove the jacket, but you didn't have the strength. "Jungkook?"

"Yeah," he responded quickly, eager to help.

"Can you wait outside?"

Jungkook frowned, almost into a pout, but he nodded. "I'll be in the hallway if you need anything." With one lingering glance that you failed to meet, he went out and quietly shut the door.

"Doc?"

"Hm?"

"Can you take it off for me? I can't…"

Yoongi's lips pressed into a hard line and he quickly but carefully removed your jacket from your shoulders. He looked at you cautiously as he tried to think of a delicate way to remove your shirt. "Can you lift your arms?"

You shook your head. "Just cut it off, Doc. Can't wear it again anyway."

Yoongi nodded and grabbed a pair of scissors. He tugged the bottom hem of your shirt away from your body and began to cut upwards until your shirt hung open. The fabric stuck to your side, but he could see the blood now. "This might hurt," he warned you before he peeled it away.

You sucked in a deep breath, but it wasn't for the pain. As soon as Yoongi pulled your shirt away he would see your scars, see what Joaquin had done to you and how broken you were. And he'd be disgusted by you. As he pulled the fabric down your arms to remove it from your body, you shut your eyes tighter, not wanting to see his reaction. If he had reacted at all, you didn't even hear an intake of breath.

"I'm afraid you're going to need stitches, sweetheart. I'll have to clean it first. I think it will be better if you lay down."

His voice was calm and even, as if you were any other patient. It wasn't without great effort on his part, but it was easier on both of you if he acted as though that were true for the time being. He held your shoulders while you leaned back slowly, trying to hide your wince at the pain in your side. You weren't fooling him though. It must have hurt as you relied on your well-defined abdominal muscles to do the work for you. You let out a harsh breath and gasped for more once you were laid on your back. He worked quickly to clean your cuts gently with gauze and alcohol so you wouldn't suffer for too long.

"I'm going to give you something to numb the pain."

"No! Don't knock me out, please," you begged, eyes closed the whole time.

"It's okay, Val, I won't. It's just to numb the area where it hurts," he assured you before he began to dab topical anesthesia over your skin. The numbing took effect quickly and you finally felt like you could breathe properly.

"Luckily for you, stitches are my specialty, so you just stay as still as you can for me, sweetheart." He did his best to smile at you, but you didn't see it. He got to work quickly and you were amazed you barely felt anything at all as he sewed you up. It felt like it took a long time, but after a few minutes you relaxed and just waited for it to be over.

Yoongi did his absolute best to stay focused only on his task, thinking only of the bits of flesh he was piecing together and not the girl he adored who couldn't look at him. It was just two cuts, one about four inches long and another half that length. What made it tricky was where they met at a point. Judging by what he had seen on your back, Joaquin had been going for an 'M', a letter he seemed fond of. Now Yoongi understood what he had meant when he talked about 'reminders' and 'who you belonged to'. He thought he even saw an actual brand on your back just above your left hip. Yoongi was disgusted, but not with you. He felt awful for all the things you had suffered, but he could never hold those things against you or find fault with you for them. It didn't diminish you in his eyes one bit. It only made him want to protect you more, so while he worked he focused on deliberate, even breathing and keeping his face straight just in case you opened your eyes. He thought about trying to speak with you, like he would with the guys when they ended up under his needle, but he didn't think he'd be able to talk and keep it together. He also knew that if you were in the mood to talk you would be the one leading the conversation, trying to act tough and show how brave you were. He knew the kind of vulnerability you were showing by lying like this while he patched you up, and he didn't take that for granted. By the time he told you "all done," you were almost asleep, body and mind too tired to fight it off, but you shook yourself awake, finally opening your eyes as Yoongi put a fresh square of gauze over your wound and taped it down. His hands skimmed the cup of your bra and he felt his cheeks go pink, but neither of you acknowledged it.

"Stay there for a moment, I'll go get you a shirt," he said after helping you sit up. You nodded and waited patiently while he went to his bedroom behind the door at the back of the room.

Before he returned the main door to the clinic burst open, and Hoseok came barging in. You stared at him with wide eyes as he took your head in his hands and his eyes searched your face. He found you distant and vacant, but you were sitting there in front of him and for the moment that was all that mattered. He didn't really think it through when he leaned down to kiss you, but his lips crushed warmly against yours, and you made a surprised squeak.

"Hoseok!" Namjoon barked, and the man stepped away from you as his high cheeks turned bright red. "What did I say earlier about not forcing her to do things against her will?"

"I'm sorry," Hoseok said to you, not Namjoon. "I'm just so happy you're back, and you're okay."

"Okay is a relative term," Yoongi interrupted angrily. "Everyone get out to give my patient some privacy." He held up an oversized black t-shirt in front of you while the others turned away, retreating into the hallway.

"Thanks, Doc," you murmured as he slipped the shirt over your head and it engulfed you.

"I'm gonna beat Hoseok," he muttered.

"Isn't he a killer?" You smiled.

"That doesn't mean I can't beat him."

You touched your hand to his chest, just over his beating heart. "I think you're more of a lover than a fighter, oppa. You should keep it that way." You moved to get off the bed but Yoongi put his hand on your shoulder.

"You should stay here and rest for a while."

You shook your head. "I need to talk to Jimin, and then I want to go to bed."

Yoongi sighed, biting back the idea of sleeping on the bed in here. He knew you'd be more comfortable in your own room; he just wasn't ready to let you go. "Stay here, and I'll get Jimin. I still have a few things for you before you go." So once again you waited as he left the room. You stared blankly at the door and listened as different sets of feet shuffled up and down the hall.

"What do you need, Val?" Jimin asked, coming in quicker than you expected.

You felt around the back pocket of your jeans and pulled out your phone.

"I don't know how long they had it or what they might have done with it," you told him as you held it out for him. Both Jimin and Yoongi stared at the device, mouths open, while you waited for him to take it. "I don't know if they bugged it but it won't bite you."

Jimin huffed a laugh, taking the phone and trying not to think of the last call made on it. "I'll check it out."

"There are some pictures I took on there of some documents. Make sure they get to Namjoon and Seokjin."

Jimin looked surprised. "What are they?"

"I don't know. I didn't have time to look. I just know it has to do with the Triads."

Jimin nodded and rushed off as fast as he'd come. Yoongi filled his place, handing you one of his tiny cups of medicine.

"It's for the pain. The local anesthesia will wear off soon."

You looked at it briefly, about to argue that you didn't need it, but the truth was you didn't want to feel anything else today. You just wanted to be alone and leave your mind for a while. You'd been fighting it since you got in the taxi, trying to hold onto your body until you knew it was safe to let go. You considered asking Yoongi for some of those sleeping pills he'd given you before, but if you slept you couldn't control what you dreamed about, so you decided against it.

"Do you need…anything else?" He asked pointedly. You gazed at him blankly for a moment before you realized what he must mean. You shook your head at him, and he seemed to relax. You took the pills and swallowed them down.

"Can I go now?"

His heart broke at the hollow sound of your voice when you asked. He simply nodded.

You slipped off the exam table and onto shaky legs. As you walked out into the middle of the house, you were sure the members were lurking around, but you couldn't seem to care. All you thought about was getting to a safe space alone.

"You need me to take you up?" Jungkook offered when you got to the staircase.

"'M fine," you mumbled back and started slowly up the stairs. From a shadow where you could not see him, Taehyung frowned, and his heart broke further at the memory of having seen your cold vacant eyes once before.

When you got to your bedroom in Namjoon's mansion, you had no intention of sleeping. You couldn't let yourself, no matter how exhausted you felt, but you wanted to be alone, so you went out to the balcony to sit in. You shouldn't even be here, you told yourself. You didn't belong here. There was only one place you belonged or ever could and you'd just escaped it. Maybe you shouldn't have. Sure, you needed to get those pictures to Namjoon, but you didn't belong here. You shouldn't be here. How many times was Joaquin going to have to remind you of that before you got the message? You pulled your knees up to your chest, curling in on yourself as you let your mind wander away from you until it felt very quiet and you let hours pass you by as you watched the treetops over the neighborhood sway in the breeze.

You were completely dead to all that passed in the house, even when Jimin came knocking at your bedroom door. When you didn't answer he let himself in. He felt even more confused when you weren't in your bed like he expected, so he peeked in the bathroom, but you weren't there either. Finally, he noticed the door to the balcony was cracked open.

"Val?" He questioned as he poked his head outside, but you didn't appear to hear, lost in your own world until he touched your arm lightly.

You jumped a little, your head turning to look at the hand that had disturbed you. You followed it up his arms where his sweatshirt sleeves were pushed up until you met his eyes.

"Have you been crying?" He asked softly.

If you were, you didn't know it. You lifted your hands to your cheeks but they weren't really wet anymore, although there were probably dried tears there.

Jimin cleared his throat when you didn't say anything, then he dug into the front pocket of his sweatshirt and pulled out your phone. "You can have this back. It doesn't look like they did anything to it," he informed you as he handed it over. "I printed off the pictures and gave them to Namjoon, so you can have it back. I charged it up, too."

"Thanks," you murmured, looking at the black screen. "Were the pictures anything useful?"

Jimin nodded almost imperceptibly and hummed. "You should come down, they want to talk to you."

You frowned. You weren't really in the mood to talk to anyone, but you didn't seem to have much of a choice. "Can I have a few minutes?"

Jimin nodded and turned toward the door. "Don't take too long," he smiled before he went inside.

You went to the bathroom and washed your face, brushing your teeth and your hair too, once you realized what a wreck you looked. You wish you'd taken a shower, but you couldn't do that now—you knew you'd just get lost in the water, plus you'd have to change your bandage. It would have to wait. You settled for changing your pants. You left Yoongi's shirt on though. You didn't know what the smell was, but it felt warm and comforting. You stood staring too long at the bags under your eyes and the frown lines around your mouth until you finally forced yourself to go downstairs.

You were heading straight for Namjoon's office when you heard your name called from the dining room—a room you'd never been to before. Many voices filled the room as you came closer. Jungkook and Jimin were still moving around, but everything seemed to settle around the long dinner table just as you stood in the doorway. At either end of the table sat Namjoon and Seokjin, and if you didn't know, you wouldn't be able to tell which was the head. To Namjoon's right, Jungkook was taking his seat. A place was open, presumably for Taehyung, and beside that Yoongi sat on Seokjin's left. To his right was a Hoseok who was looking lighter than you had ever seen before. On his side was Jimin and, between him and Namjoon, another empty space without a place setting.

"Won't you join us, Val?" Namjoon asked, somehow finding the perfect balance between politeness and familiarity. The offer was warm, but not insistent.

"You can sit here, Val," Jungkook smiled, gesturing to the empty chair between him and Yoongi.

Your brow furrowed. "Isn't that Taehyung's seat?"

"No, Taehyung's seat is over here." Jimin draped his arm over the empty chair to his right.

"Taehyung won't be joining us tonight," Namjoon said quietly, trying not to sound serious, but failing.

"Oh," was all you could respond. "I thought we were going to talk about the pictures."

"We will, in a little while. Right now we just want to eat," Namjoon smiled.

Why was he acting like this was normal? You'd never even seen them eat together since you got there, much less been asked to eat with them, other than the night you had pizza with Jungkook, Hoseok and Yoongi. You noticed the latter watching you for the first time.

"You haven't eaten all day," Yoongi commented when he could tell you wanted to refuse.

"I'm not that hungry," you admitted, but you took the seat that was offered anyway.

"Just eat some rice," Yoongi whispered to you.

"You all seem happy. Are you celebrating something?" You asked quietly as the men started picking up food with their chopsticks. Beside your bowl of rice was a set of metal chopsticks that you looked at nervously. You'd used chopsticks before, but never without embarrassing yourself. Thankfully someone had the foresight to give you a fork as well, even though no one else was using one.

"It's a good day for Bangtan, thanks to you, Val," Seokjin smiled at you. It wasn't unusual for him to smile at you, but usually it was a diplomatic one, or perhaps a bit mischievous. This one seemed genuinely happy, and with you, no less.

"What did I do?" You asked, eyes wide as you looked from one end of the table to the other.

Namjoon swallowed and cleared his throat, placing his chopsticks down before he spoke to you. "The pictures you took had information regarding the locations of the Triads' warehouses, some of which we did not know about. We will be putting together a plan of attack once we get some other matters sorted out, but for now this is a big win for us. So, thank you, Val." Namjoon gave you a genuine smile as well.

You pursed your lips as you thought. "There were other papers in that file. I couldn't get pictures of them because my phone died. Maybe I could go back and-"

Namjoon shook his head at you. "You've done more than enough, Val. It was a big risk even for you to do that. You didn't have to, but you did. I'll never ask you to do anything like that for us."

"But I-"

"You're safe now, here with us. I hope you never go back there," Namjoon continued.

Your eyes felt hot, stinging with tears, so you looked down at your food instead. Only now it wasn't just a bowl of plain rice. There was a small piece of what you guessed was fatty meat resting on top.

"It's pork belly," Yoongi smiled, leaning over to you. "It's kind of like bacon, but better."

You looked at it curiously before you speared it with your fork and put it in your mouth. The warm piece of fat practically melted over your taste buds.

"Oh my God," you moaned, catching everyone's eye before they started to laugh.

"Here, try this," Yoongi smiled as he placed a piece of chicken in your bowl. "It's dak galbi."

You tried to repeat his words before you tasted the meat. "That's so good," you moaned after chewing.

"If you're staying, you'll have to learn to use chopsticks," Hoseok teased as Yoongi placed yet more food in your bowl, smiling incandescently at you.

You snorted. "I don't think I'll be staying that long."

"Nonsense," Namjoon interjected between chewing and a drink of water. "You can stay here as long as you want or need."

"Oh, I don't –I mean, you don't have to…" The steady, meaningful look Namjoon gave you silenced you.

"You have nowhere else to go that's safe. You can stay here until that's no longer the case." You swallowed, feeling the heaviness of his words, so he hastened to add, "You're not a prisoner though. If you want to leave, you can. You just don't have to."

The air filling the room started to feel a little awkward as you and Namjoon looked away from each other. Lucky, Jimin stepped in.

"Show her how to do ssam," Jimin said with a full mouth.

Jungkook hummed excitedly as he chewed and then swallowed. "This is ssam," he told you, holding up a perilla leaf and you repeated the word. "This is ssamjang." He spread a red paste in the center of the leaf.

"Ssamjang."

"Mhm. Then you put whatever in it. You want dak galbi?" You nodded excitedly and Jungkook smiled his bunny smile as he placed a large piece of chicken in the center of the leaf. Then you watched as he expertly folded the leaf into a small wrap and held it out for you. You took it gently from his hand and didn't hesitate to shove the whole wrap into your mouth. You hummed appreciatively as you chewed, making everyone laugh again.

"Think you can make your own?" Jungkook asked.

"Yeah. But I don't think I remember all the words," you giggled.

"I'll help you," Yoongi encouraged, over the moon to see you enjoying yourself.

"Thank you, oppa," you smiled back.

Namjoon choked on his water and set the glass down heavily on the table. "Oppa?" He coughed.

"Looks like Val is learning all kinds of words," Jin smirked.

"Before long she'll know so much Korean we won't be able to talk in code around her," Hoseok added.

You blushed and turned to the food in an attempt to ignore their teasing. You felt lighter because everyone at the table was being so nice to you. But you still felt a sadness that wouldn't stop tugging on you, like a child pulling on your shirt, demanding to be acknowledged. Maybe it was just that everything was so new, with no way to trust it. Maybe it was the Taehyung-shaped hole at the dinner table, missing out on the moment of joy because he couldn't stand to be around you. Maybe it was the voice whispering in the back of your head that you didn't belong here, that you belonged to someone else. But you tried to push it back, to listen to Jimin talk about the K-Drama he was currently binging and whatever other mundane things they found to talk about while Yoongi helped you fill yourself on delicious food.

"Are you eating too? Or just giving all your food to me?" You asked him quietly while Jimin and Seokjin debated something you couldn't follow as their Korean leaked into conversation more and more.

"I'm full just watching you eat," he replied with warm eyes and a smile.

"Well, I'm actually full, so you should eat," you encouraged him, returning his warmth.

Taehyung sat in the corner at the end of the bar with a whiskey in his hand. Namjoon always liked there to be someone he could trust, a member of the inner circle, at the club in the evening, and even though he intended to go later, Taehyung had volunteered to go early. He couldn't look at you right now. But that was his fault, not yours.

Ever since he heard the things Joaquin was saying to you when he held you prisoner, Taehyung couldn't stop going over every detail of your relationship. He replayed every word he'd said to you and imagined how you must have felt. When he called you his. When he said you belonged to him. He'd never truly meant it in that way. He meant he wanted you and he didn't want others to have you. But now even those thoughts made him sick with himself. What right did he have to claim any part of you?

And then there were the scars. He had respected your boundaries when it came to them. You would get very upset if he tried to remove your shirt, so he left it…except that last time you were together. He'd never gotten a good look at any of them, though he had felt some. He knew they were all over your back, even if it wasn't a very large canvas. He didn't want to imagine what you must have endured to receive them. Yoongi had been shaken up after you left him, and Jungkook pressed him to talk about your scars, even though Hoseok asked him not to. Yoongi couldn't help it; he couldn't seem to bear it on his own. Cuts made all over your back, big and small, marks of one man's vanity and cruelty that would never leave you. Taehyung didn't want to leave you either, but he didn't deserve you after the way he'd treated you, and how you must have felt. He couldn't blame you for wanting nothing to do with him.

Jimin could tell that—unlike you, hours earlier—Taehyung was burdened by too many thoughts when he reached out to put a hand on the man's shoulder.

"It's not good for your health to think that hard, Taehyungie," Jimin chuckled as he sat on the stool beside him. Taehyung's frown deepened. "She looked alright at dinner."

"Good," Taehyung mumbled back, barely there.

"She asked about you."

Taehyung waved his hand as if to brush the words away. "I don't want to know. I wish she wouldn't think of me at all. Wish she'd never met me."

Jimin sensed perhaps his partner had had enough to drink for the evening. "You still love her, Taehyungie."

He nodded. "She deserves someone who will love her better."

Jimin pondered if he should say the thought in his mind, and as usual, decided he should. "You know, I think Yoongi has fallen for her already, too."

"And Jungkook and Namjoon and I think Hoseok too." Taehyung sighed. "They'd all be better for her than me. She deserves all of them."

"Careful what you say, that may come true."

"She needs to be taken care of, Jimin."

Jimin took a deep breath and ruffled the hair at the back of Taehyung's head. "I'm sure she will be. And I'm sure you can learn to love her better." Taehyung merely shrugged. "If it's any consolation, I don't love her."

Taehyung downed what was left of his drink and then turned to Jimin and gave him a hazy smile. "You might."

Jimin shook his head, pushing Tae's hair back off his forehead and smiling sadly at him. "I think you've had enough for tonight. Let me take you home and take care of you, yeah?"

"Can't go home," Tae slurred.

"Yeah, you can. She already went to bed before we left. And I'll take you down to my room, okay? She won't see you, I promise."

"Good," Tae mumbles as he lets Jimin pull him from his barstool and straps his arm over his shoulder. "She hates me."

"I don't think that's true, baby. I think she's just messed up," Jimin admitted as he led Taehyung away from the bar.

"I miss her," he whispered.

"Don't worry, Tae, baby. You'll find your way back."

<-previous | master list | next->

Permanent taglist: @halesandy @burningupp-replies @lilacdreams-00 @minclangyyy @yonkimint @wholockian1 @cbgdoll @babycoffeefire @theatren3rd @bri-mal @armytwist @hwayne2294 @crish-mac @kazufuyusluv @dis-tru6tion @hey-itsmina @jikooksgirl19 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @agustpark @svgahigh @marvelfamily3000 @borahae-reads @shadowyjellyfishfest @yoongiigolden @staerryminimini

Fighter taglist: @valhallawhispers @ot7nem @welconme-notreally @leowiebi @caffeineandreveries @so-da-1 @exochanyeoltao @antichrist-zaddy @bids97 @pamzn @candied-lavender @jnghs @devilsbooksworld @canarystwin @forvever-ddaeng @ygbubs @rinkud @mixedandfurious @magnificentjudgemoneyhands @knjsbae @xmochiloverx @luciferslvst @juju-227592 @elegantcashplaidbasketball @sweetcheeksdna

My apologies for people I wasn’t able to tag!!

#beastie 🐾#Fighter #bts fanfic #bts series #bts hurt/comfort #bts angst #taehyung angst #namjoon x yn #seokjin x y/n #yoongi x yn #hoseok x y/n #jimin x yn #taehyung x y/n #jungkook x yn #reader is poc

168 notes · View notes

sophi-s · 4 years ago

Text

Cost of Kindness

Chapter II: Fear me not

By: sophi-s

Fandom: Darksiders video games

Words: 6373

Characters: Raphael, Original Character (OC)

Warnings: Blood and injury, suffocating, violence, Raphael is sad :(

Summary:

Nicola is quick to find trust in herself and quick to lose it. She doesn't realise however, that the man she fears sees something in her others cannot. And this something is what made him save her life again.

--------------------------------------------------

Through the few short weeks, the apocalypse has taught the dying Humanity many different things. Resourcefulness, cunning, true strength of unity… and among other things, the cruel life had taught them, was bravery in its purest form. Bravery that isn't simply an absence of fear but the power to overcome it. Stay cool-headed even in the most extreme scenarios, allowing them to face down even the most horrifying demons and either get away mostly unscathed or sometimes even beat them if they were lucky. Without those traits, survival was nigh impossible these days.

This last very important lesson however, Nicola seemed to have quite spectacularly failed to learn. Even as lucky as she was - considering that she lived thus far - she never was the bravest creature in this God-forsaken world. Smart? Sometimes. Ingenious? Sure. But brave? Not really, no. Especially now, as she was staring up at the angel who she decided to trust not even a minute before and who has just ruthlessly murdered a demon with little to no remorse in a very, very sickening way. Her muscles refused to move as though Raphael had already used the spell of paralysis against her as she watched the corners of his mouth, previously quirked upwards in a small smile, slowly descend. His expression in the matter of seconds morphed into confusion when a quiet sob escaped her. This horrifying, agonized screeching was still ringing in Nicola's ears, the demon kept writhing before her eyes and she couldn't help but wonder.. what did it feel like? To have one's life drained like that. Because judging by the sounds the Goreclaw produced, it must've been truly torturous.

"Human…?"

The soft voice of Raphael snapped her out of this strange haze and the sight of his hand extended towards her once again made her heart jump and begin to race. Her mind was telling her that if Raphael wanted to harm her, he would've done it already. Besides, moments before the demon came, he healed the cut on her forehead demanding nothing in return. Only because he could and - for some reason - wanted. But the chilling claws of panic gripping her throat and the fight-or-flight instincts kicking in, screaming inside her head made the voice of reason merely an inaudible whisper drowning in the sea of primal fear of the possible approaching danger. And right now, her body definitely settled on "flight".

"No! "

She yelped and tried to get away but her heels met the corpse behind her and it caused her to trip over the husk of the once frightening demon. With an expression of shock, Raphael retracted his hand as her rear painfully met the tough and damp floor. There was utter horror gleaming in her emerald green eyes, matched by lack of comprehension in his.

"Why are you frightened?"

And he has the audacity to ask why. Nicola thought bitterly as she started to scramble away. At the first glance, Raphael seemed so kind, he was such a gentle soul. Even his face, despite the collapsed cheeks, has the most trustworthy look to it Nicola had ever seen. This kind is the worst. Makes you trust them, lower your guard.. It seems she'd conveniently forgotten about one fact she noticed moments after she found Raphael. He's completely, absolutely and utterly insane. Unpredictable. At first he couldn't even remember his own name or how he got here. Who can guarantee her that he won't have an abrupt change of heart and lash out at her? She wasn't going to take chances. Leaping up to her feet, Nicola blindly runs off into the dark pathway she initially emerged from, her shotgun left forgotten on the floor just as she heard an almost frantic-sounding call echoing from the haphazard hide-out alongside the sound of rustling feathers and cloth.

" NICOLAAA! "

To her, this shout may have as well been a roar of a Fallen that not so long ago nearly succeeded in ending her life. A golden hue on the walls glistening with wetness trembled and started to move. No one had to say that out loud for her to realise that the angel was actually chasing after her. And to think that merely seconds ago Raphael was struggling with standing up properly… The pain of her overworked legs was gone, forgotten. They carried Nicola like a completely different entity, moving on their own, tireless and strong with only one purpose. Get away. Survive. Escape.

How Nicola managed to get to the point where she started her sightseeing tour of the sewers without any source of light and without tripping over all those bodies she found before was a mystery even to her. Even the slickness of the ladder didn't phase her as she pushed the lid off and quite literally pounced out of the hole in the sidewalk like a puma. She only hoped she'd managed to lose her pursuit in the winding corridors. Placing the lid back where it belonged, Nicola immediately booked it for the nearest alley just to be sure.

Once she was more or less hidden, she leaned against a crumbling wall, breathed out silently and covered her mouth to muffle the uncontrollable sobs. She thought that for once she found something that wasn't about to end her where she stood but it seems that the Universe has taken it as a matter of some twisted honor to slaughter every single member of the human race. This is just unfair. Sure, there was a lot of people who deserved to be smited into oblivion by the God himself for what they'd done but if the apocalypse was supposed to be some kind of punishment, then for fuck's sake why does the entire race has to suffer for it?! How is this even fair ?!

It's not. That's how.

Nicola looked up at the night sky glittering with numerous stars, winking at her like thousands of watching eyes as tears spilled down her cheeks, leaving clean trails in the dust and grime. Eventually, her heartbeat started slowing down, her breath evening out and the adrenaline gradually receding from her system. Now she had a moment to clear her head and think. She had no doubts she can be forgiven for running away. Every person in their right mind would do the same in her situation. Nicola refused to die like this.. But on the other hand… This panic in Raphael's voice, the almost childishly innocent smile as he closed the cut on her skin and the gentleness to his every move as he tried to heal a defenseless kitten… God, this is so… so… Nicola couldn't even find the right word. Despite what the angel did to that Goreclaw, no one said he meant to hurt her too. He may be crazy but that doesn't mean he's a psychotic murderer. This was a demon and angels rightfully hate demons! In his mind there was most likely nothing wrong with that. Besides, she gave Raphael no reason to think of her as a target. All of the sudden, Nicola felt unbelievably foolish for running off like that. Raphael saved her life after all. And she acted nothing if not horribly ungrateful. Should I go back? She'll have to anyway. In a hurry, she left her weapon back down there and Haven was short on those… Dang it…

She sighed. It honestly made her feel like a moron. Damned survival instincts… Sure, they were keeping her alive all the time but sometimes they were just so incredibly annoying. Why would they make her run away from someone who protected her even though he had no reason to do so and nothing to gain from it? From the first angel who seemed to care what fate befalls her? Goodness me, this is so stupid… Nicola shook her head and was about to walk back to the entrance to the sewer when she noticed something in an adjacent alley. Seeing a pair of hungry yellow lights slowly moving closer to her, just above the ground made her heart drop. Her sight has long got used to darkness and so it took her only a fraction of a second to notice curved, black horns above them, long and spindly arms on either side of a slender body ending in a long, scaly lube. A snake-like tail…

With a pounding heart, Raphael quickly moved through the sewer that has long ago turned into his hide-out. Tracking down the strange little human who unexpectedly visited him in his "lair" was harder than it seemed. She was way faster than he would have given her credit for. By all means, in her short legs she shouldn't be that quick. Fear does strange things to people.. But why was she afraid? This short meeting was inarguably the most wonderful thing that happened to him ever since he left the White City. He couldn't quite remember how long ago it was but definitely too long for his taste. All he recalled was the horrible, sharp bite every time he repeated the ritual to finish his greatest creation, followed by a short-lived feeling of elation soon to be replaced by deathly cold within the centre of his being. Each time getting worse and worse until he couldn't stand it anymore. Quickly descending into madness caused by never-ending pain and the chill of his damaged soul, the invisible wound in his chest as cold as a forgotten grave, he knew he can't keep doing this. And so, after having lost his purpose, there was no reason for him to stay anymore. He refused to disappoint his brethren.

You've fulfilled your task. They don't need you anymore.

Raphael halted for a moment, blinking to try and chase away the taunting whisper in the back of his head. It is not true.

"You're wrong. They do. More than ever…"

In the premature Endwar, Heaven's Legions probably wished he was with them. But that doesn't change a thing. He's not going back. Not after he failed to save Ithuriel as an unexplainable surge of panic paralyzed both his hands and his magic. It still sometimes haunts his damaged memories… The young warrior slowly languished from a poisoned wound, grew weaker and weaker with every moment and the archangel couldn't move, couldn't even speak to call for help. Just.. stood there and watched unable to act. Until… A painful twinge through his chest made him wince. No. He can never allow something like this to happen again. He cannot fail them.. He refused to let anyone down like that. Ever.

Frankly speaking, Raphael started to wonder when he'd taken to talking to himself. Solitude clearly wasn't serving him… It's been so long since he had anyone to speak to and even longer since his mind felt this clear. This woman, Nicola, told him she is a human. Considering what has happened to the Third Kingdom, Raphael found it hard to believe. But the spark of life in her soul… it really did feel human. She wasn't a fiend from the Black Depths, nor was she of his own kin. Earth was where she belonged. But there was something in her… something so oddly familiar.. soothing. A flame like those burning in hearts of Heaven's people, just somehow fainter. Only a small fraction of it. Maybe her soul belonged to an angel before it was purged by the Well? Who knows?

But that aside, she was still human. And so, it might as well make her the last survivor of her race and the first creature to show him a lick of sympathy ever since he chose the path of a hermit. The Balance was in danger and this human was imperative for its preservation. For the first time in decades, Raphael felt needed. He had a purpose again. No one was forcing him to do this but the words in a caring tone leaving Nicola's mouth and clear concern for his well being even though she barely knew him for a couple of minutes were something he has been so… so dreadfully missing. As confused as he was by her attitude, he couldn't deny that it was… nice. How long has it been since someone expressed clear worry for him? Too long… The archangel wished this odd mortal near even if for just a short moment because strangely enough, her kindness directed specifically to him somehow eased the never-ending suffering and helped him focus his thoughts that kept running rampant without control whenever he couldn't busy himself with something other than the hole in his chest. And now they were focused on one goal. Find the human.

Raphael waved his bandaged hand through the air before him to invoke a spell and frowned when he detected the familiar presence he was searching for somewhere over his head. She must've left for the city above him. Right where she's out in the open for demons to pick out. Why did she run?

She knows what you are. And she is just a human. Of course she would run like a coward.

No. Raphael brushed this poisonous voice off. Believing in a single word it says will mean his failure. If he does, he will be doomed. Forever lost in the depths of insanity. No matter.. Channeling his magic, Raphael warped and reappeared amidst the sorrowful ruins of the city once inhabited by hundreds of humans. A wave of fresh air hit him in the face and for a moment made his head feel like it was spinning. His eyes opened wide when he took a huge gulp of oxygen. He never realised how sweet it can taste. After such a long time in the damp darkness… The stars peered down at him from the moonless sky, shining like shattered diamonds woven into black velvet. Enchanting and stunningly beautiful. If it wasn't so dangerous out here, Raphael would've surely been more eager to leave the dark pit he was stuck in to marvel at the Earth's still present beauty but such as it was… The moment he let his eyes wander across the vast expanse of the Earthen sky, his feathers bristled at the sound of a shrill cry of fear that tore the silence asunder. A cry of a female voice. Familiar voice. It could only mean one thing. His heart skipped.

Rushing towards the source of the scream, Raphael soon discovered the reason right behind a corner. The same human that indulged him in a much needed interaction, that calmed his restless spirit, was now struggling against the tightening coils of a serpentine body of a demon sorcerer which apparently has picked her as its midnight snack. Already feeling a mist of rage fall over his mind, Raphael shook his head to shrug it off for a little longer. Keeping his head as cool as he could, he performed a gesture with his hands as a string of words in his mother tongue slipped past his lips and his vision zeroed on the Shadowcaster.

Nicola was absolutely sure these were her final moments on this horrible, horrible world when the Shadowcaster jumped at her from a nook and wrapped its tail around her to try and strangle the life out of her like a gigantic, twisted constrictor snake, and watch her perish in suffering. What an awful way to die. Seeing the wicked grin of this malformed face as the last thing before her consciousness leaves her for good. Nicola hoped that if she had to die, then at least she would be sent off by a friendly face… But it seems that God denied her even this last, small comfort.. She fought ferociously against the crushing pressure that was successfully preventing her from catching another breath but to no avail. Her lungs felt as though they had been set on fire and her desperate wriggling only made the demon laugh excitedly as it whispered something she couldn't understand. She didn't have to though. Something told her it was nothing nice.. Dark spots started to gather in the corners of her vision and slowly encase her mind in darkness and she has already come to terms with the fact that this time she isn't getting out of this one alive when… the hold the Shadowcaster had on her loosened.

Taking a wheezing breath, Nicola fell over, still trapped in the coils of the scaly body. What? Once her vision cleared out a little, she saw her attacker lying stiff like a statue with its nasty eyes, previously burning with malice, now opened wide in shock and a web of golden lights crawling across its skin spoke for itself. Before any coherent thought could form in her head she was suddenly yanked free from the demon's grasp by an invisible force. A small cry escaped her when she felt a sharp sting on her thigh where the monster held her with its claws and soon she was gently deposited on the ground. Looking up into a pair of big, white eyes blinking down at her upside down from underneath a green, ragged hood.

"Raph-... phael…?"

She gasped to let her crushed lungs expand properly, though she needed no answer. It was him. He did follow her. And he saved her bacon. Again. Nicola truly wanted to laugh. If there were any doubts still left in her mind that Raphael is a friend before, they disappeared at this very moment. You bloody idiot, you ran from a dude who was trying to protect you and almost got yourself killed in the process. Nicola scolded herself inwardly as she struggled to breathe properly. No running again. Although she was most glad to see Raphael, she immediately noticed something was wrong. He was looking at her but without this soft smile. His eyebrows were knitted together in an expression of worry and… guilt? Why the…? And that's when she noticed that his eyes were flicking between her face and the spot on her leg which was quickly starting to grow warm and wet. Craning her neck to see, Nicola nearly choked once she caught the sight of three deep gashes torn into her flesh. And they were spurting about a lot of blood… Like.. a lot.

"You're bleeding… Hurt…"

His hesitant words only confirmed that it wasn't a hallucination caused by oxygen deprivation. Nicola bit her lip and tried to find that healing shard in her pocket but between being nearly choked to death, her empty stomach, sharp pain and seeing that amount of blood leaving her injured appendage she felt too dizzy to keep her head up and laid back down on the ground with a miserable mewl.

"In the eyes of our blessed Father, your days are numbered, foul beast.."

She heard Raphael hiss through his teeth once he looked up towards the place where the Shadowcaster was surely still face planting under the influence of the spell and his troubled frown turned into a scowl. There was this weird sound once more. Oh my God, he's doing it again… Nicola gulped, already preparing for the round two. Even though she was certain now that she had nothing to fear from him, it still doesn't mean she liked what she saw back then when the Goreclaw jumped her. She was already hearing the screeches of the demon even before they could come to be but this time no such thing happened. Something was different. The light that coalesced around Raphael's hand was not green but golden as the magic vibrated through the air once again. Everything lasted but a second. And instead of a series of pained shrieks, Nicola heard a single, sickening crunch. And then silence. Nothing more. Whatever happened, it was quick and mostly quiet. Probably because they were outside and more demons undoubtedly prowled nearby, and Raphael was definitely smart enough to realise that. Thank goodness… Nicola breathed before she saw the shimmering stars swimming before her eyes quickly starting to disappear along with her hearing. Soon, she slipped her eyelids closed in spite of the pain in her leg and found herself sliding into the dark. Hold on. Just a little longer.. Just… a little…

… longer…

If anything could be said about Shadowcasters, was that their skeletons, as flexible as they are, characterize with astonishing brittleness. One flick of Raphael's wrist was more than enough to snap its neck and give it a far quicker and more merciful death than it deserved. He couldn't allow himself for another drain as it would bring half of the Horde bearing down on both him and the wounded human at his feet. Besides, he didn't feel in need of its energy. The human…

Looking down at her, Raphael felt his heart cease for a second. She was lying there on her back, pale and motionless, her intricate green eyes shut. Alive, the blaze in her soul flickering, but clearly unconscious. Blood was still oozing from the wound he himself had made because of the spontaneous decision to wrench her free from the fiend's hold. He wasn't careful enough and failed to notice that the demon dug its talons into her skin. The archangel had seen a fair share of pain. He used to be the head healer back in the White City after all. The number of warriors he'd pulled out of the cold clutches of death was impossible to count. But somehow this was different. The poor woman was defenseless, weak and delicate. She couldn't even fight the demon that tackled her.

Azrael was right. Humans are very, very fragile.. Compared to other races, they were frighteningly easy to crush. Anything could kill them. From eating something wrong, through illnesses, to even falling into the water. Truth be told, Nicola was the first human Raphael had met in person and he didn't want her to be his last. Just stay calm. Don't panic… Not now… Kneeling down next to her, so small in comparison to him, Raphael gingerly peeled the torn trouser leg off the wound and placed his quivering hand over it, concealing the whole thing with his palm. His magic began to flow into the human once again to seal the torn flesh but there was very little time he had.

He barely managed to lessen the bleeding when a sound of a distant roar and a crash of a car being tossed aside, reached his ears. His head snapped up as his eyes darted around, searching for the owner of this cry. He would recognise it even in his sleep, even if the last scraps of his sanity left him. A Trauma was somewhere nearby. No doubt heading in this direction, attracted by the commotion and possibly the smell of blood as well. And a Trauma he couldn't afford to fight right now. Those things are hearty enough to break through his magic and get to him before he is able to put them down. Scooping up Nicola into his arms, Raphael wrapped his dusted wings around both her and himself and with a single arcane word they both vanished, leaving only a trace of quickly dissipating golden glow in their wake.

How long had she been out, Nicola couldn't tell. All she knew that she felt as though someone ran into her with a car. Her breaths were shallow and her heart was beating way too fast for comfort. Groaning quietly, she laid her arm over her face before opening her eyes. To see a dark, damp ceiling gently illuminated by a warm light. Where the Hell-...? The last second before the blackout came back to her like a punch to the gut. The Shadowcaster. Raphael.. With a startled gasp, she shot up, looking about, promptly regretting her decision when the world started to spin again. And to her utter astonishment, she was once again in the small section of the sewers where she met Raphael, settled on some ratty blankets and covered with another one that fell from her chest the moment she stirred.

"Keep still.."

She heard and nearly jumped when she felt a hand fall onto her shoulder and gently coax her into lying down again. And honestly, with how nauseous and weak she felt, Nicola wasn't about to resist and let herself be lowered to the ground. Unsurprisingly now, she saw the familiar scrawny angel sitting cross-legged next to her and staring intensely at her with those big, disturbingly hollow eyes. He brought her back into his hidey-hole? It looks like it.. Why exactly however, Nicola couldn't tell. And there wasn't much she could read from those eyes. A couple of seconds passed. A minute. Two. Five. And he still kept staring. The awkward silence continued until Nicola decided to break it by clearing her throat.

"Uh… what's up, buddy?"

If she wasn't feeling like shit, Nicola would've burst out laughing when she saw Raphael look up at the ceiling confused but she really didn't have strength to explain that this was just an expression. Chucking to herself quietly, she rubbed her eyes with pads of her fingers to clear her blurry sight a little when again her stomach loudly demanded nutrition. And the poor angel who was still looking at the ceiling quite literally jumped away and glared at her abdomen distrustfully when it "growled at him". Seems like angels know as little about humans as humans about them…

"What… was that.?"

Carefully pulling herself up to a sitting position, miserably failing to stop a fit of giggles - even though it pulled her sore muscles over her ribs - Nicola waved her hand dismissively. Any fear she once felt in the presence of Raphael was gone now. Not only did he rescue her twice but the way he was getting confused or spooked by literally anything Nicola did - purposefully or not - was just somewhat endearing.

"I'm just hungry.. I haven't eaten for a whole day.."

"Oh… hungry… hmmmm… Yes.."

Raphael murmured, seemingly a little embarrassed by the whole situation and twisted his body around to reach for something. Furrowing her eyebrows, Nicola tried to shift to see what exactly he was doing back there but she didn't see a lot. At least not until he turned to face her again and very slowly - like he was afraid he would frighten her again - extended his hand to her. And in his palm sat a paper bag where undoubtedly Nicola's sandwich was. Hesitantly, she reached for the packet that rustled encouragingly and a faint, pleasant smell of cheese, ham and pickled cucumbers emerged from within. A nice change from the stench around. It wasn't much but made her mouth water nonetheless.

"Thanks.. though I'd be glad if you didn't go through my things. Okay?"

"Okay…"

He replied with a nod and sat down again, watching Nicola devour - not eat - devour half of her sandwich in a few bites. Goodness, she was so hungry she could eat a horse.. However, halfway through something beside Raphael's thigh caught her attention. There, next to his knee sat a small cat. The same back and white kitten the angel was taking care of before. Looking at her with those blasted big, green eyes with pupils expanded almost to the point where its irises weren't visible and hungrily licking the sides of its mouth. At first she tried to ignore it. But the cursed look cats, especially the little ones, can give! The longer it stared at her, the more sure she was that she doesn't have the appetite anymore.. Goddamnit. Pulling a slice of ham out of her sandwich - the only part that would be of interest to it - Nicola clicked her tongue and offered the food to the kitten.

"Here, little buddy.. Come here."

I'm too soft for my own good. One day, some cat will be the death of her… Carefully and slowly, the kitten approached her, sniffing the piece of meat before snatching it out of her hand and retreating into the safe place behind Raphael to consume the gift. Cats can smell good people from a mile. Looks like she was wrong to ever doubt Raphael had anything but good intentions. Smiling slightly, the angel reached out to the cat and brushed his knuckles against the black fur around a new scar on its back. The loud and comforting purr interrupted only by an occasional swallow rung out and made even Nicola smile as she finished her own food. Even with how meager her snack was, hopefully it was going to last her at least until she finds her way back to Haven. One day of poor eating wasn't going to kill her after all.

When she was done, she peeled back the blanket to examine her injured leg. Nicola pulled a face at the three - even if mostly closed - claw marks on her thigh and the bloodied trouser leg. It didn't look that bad anymore but she could imagine that it would definitely slow her down. The slightest move was causing her mild discomfort. Running and walking anywhere is definitely off the table for now. Still, Nicola much preferred the dull ache that was now in place of excruciating throbbing.

There was no doubt in her mind that this is all once again thanks to the kind, even if a bit unhinged, angel who was now sitting beside her with a quietly purring kitten nested on his lap as he kept stroking its head and back and murmuring something to himself in a strange, melodic language Nicola couldn't understand but found beautiful and enchanting nonetheless. She watched Raphael for a few moments, listening to his deep, soothing voice that made her feel a bit sleepy. After the apocalypse Nicola rarely slept well because of nightmares. And it showed. But before she inevitably dozed off, she felt she had to say something.

"So uh…"

She started, successfully getting his attention, judging by how his eyes shifted to look at her.

"Um… Thanks. For… for everything I guess.."

For a whole minute Raphael didn't answer, simply watched her with his head tilted to the right, a silent question in his eyes. Nicola scratched the back of her neck awkwardly and decided to clarify.

"You know.. for saving my butt two times now, treating me.. And sorry I ran away. I was scared, you got pretty spooky with that Goreclaw back then…"

"Oh…"

He replied with raised eyebrows.

"Forgive me then… I did not mean to frighten you…"

"Oh, no no no, you don't have to be sorry, it's okay! I'm not scared anymore.."

Nicola assured him quickly. Making him feel bad for it wasn't her intention at all.

"Seriously though. Thank you.."

She repeated with a grimace when she tried to shift to a more comfortable position but the ache in her leg made it significantly more difficult. With an empathetic look to his face, Raphael steadied her by returning his hand to her shoulder and moving the other - already radiant with his Heavenly magic - to her wound. The prickly sensation came back, bringing relief in pain as he sighed tiredly.

"This is.. my duty…"

As surprising as it was, Nicola couldn't deny that Raphael seemed to have changed in some way since she found him absolutely deranged. Now he seemed a little more… collected. Focused. Calmer. But simultaneously even sadder and very jumpy. Still, he remained as mysterious as he did before. But maybe if he retains this composure, Nicola could pry something from him about his background. Why is he here alone? What happened to him? How did he get here? There were way too many questions to ask at once but she had to start with something.

"Your duty? You're some sort of a… uh, what shoudma' call it? Doctor, medic, something like that?"

Despite the question being seemingly innocent and harmless, Raphael reacted by turning his eyes down to look at his hands as he flexed his fingers a couple times with a barely noticeable wince twisting his lips. His answer was so quiet that Nicola barely caught it.

"... was… I left.."

"Huh? Wh- why?"

At that, Raphael looked up at her, again with this tortured gleam in his eyes that made her heart squeeze painfully and shyly pointed at Nicola's side.

"It hurts.."

He chimed as she stared at her own hip in confusion. Again, the angel was making no sense. Her side didn't hurt for one, and two, it can't have been the reason why he left… whatever he left to abandon his previous life. A little startled that maybe he knew something she didn't, Nicola probed the place he pointed out but all she could feel was the healing shard in her… in her pocket… All of the sudden she recalled what Raphael told her before.

Hesitantly, she dug the glowing crystal out of her vest and lifted it for Raphael to see better and asked a wordless question which he answered almost immediately.

"The shards… they hurt me.."

This was probably the lowest Nicola's eyebrows have ever descended, making the look of confusion on her face even more blatant. I thought they were supposed to be healing shards? Why would something made to heal one person hurt another?

"How?"

With an expression of anguish, Raphael placed his hand over his chest and took a small gasp of air as if to make his point.

"I created them.. and some of them hurt…"

The revelation made Nicola's jaw fall slack. She'd been suspecting this before when Raphael referred to the crystal as "his" shard but hearing the confirmation almost had her gag. How many times a healing shard has saved either her or someone else from the Tree, she couldn't count on both of her hands. After Ulthane snatched her from the Fallen's talons it took the large one to heal her and make sure she survives afterwards and still it shattered after it served its purpose. At this very moment, no one could ever convince her that the sad, mad angel before her is evil in any way. With a huff of disbelief she shook her head, shifting her gaze between Raphael and the shard.

"Wait, hold up, you made those?! Oh.. my God, I could kiss you, my dude."

A very undignified snort almost escaped Nicola when she saw the face Raphael made. Something between astonishment, horror and curiosity. She remained oblivious to how improper it sounded in his ears. He cocked his head again. Goddamnit. Every time he does that, Nicola just… can't. It constantly reminds her of a puppy looking at some bizarre wonder of nature.

"But.. why would you want to do this..?"

"It's an expression. In other words, I wanted to say I can't thank you enough. How did someone like you ever end up in… like- like this?"

Nicola said "like this" in the last moment before she could say "in such a shitty situation" because she realised just in time how inappropriately awful this sounds, considering they're in the damned sewers. I'll have to learn to stop accidentally making jokes.. For some reason Jones absolutely adored her for it, unlike most of her friends who kept either groaning or facepalming every time and begging her to stop before they kicked a bucket from the sheer badness of her jests. The kitten in Raphael's lap meowed in annoyance when it lost the touch of the angel, coaxing him to keep smoothing out its fur still stained with dried blood. He did, and Nicola didn't miss that he was deliberately avoiding her gaze.

"Long story.. very long.."

"That's alright, we have time!"

The words left her mouth before she could stop them. Her curiosity was just too strong. Besides, Nicola wasn't going anywhere anytime soon with how her leg was fairing (just thinking about how worried Ulthane and the rest have to be made her a little sick) and she honestly doubted Raphael is going anywhere either. But the way it came out made her sound like she was prying to get to something the angel clearly wished to keep to himself. Whether because it was something to be ashamed of or something very unpleasant to speak of. In honesty, Nicola was sure he would scowl at her for this but he simply looked away with a grim look on his face. And it was even worse because it made her feel awful.

"Oh… sorry, if you don't wanna talk about it then it's alright! You don't have to tell me."

"Another time.. rest now."

He hummed and extended one finger towards Nicola's forehead. Before she had time to ask him what he was doing, he lightly poked her right between her eyebrows and all of the sudden she felt unbelievably drowsy. She blinked a couple of times but everything was starting to double before her eyes which were closing all by themselves. With a wide yawn Nicola soon fell into the embrace of magical slumber Raphael called upon her.

He caught her before she could fall down and lowered her onto the blankets to let her sleep in peace. The poor human needed her rest to make up for the amount of blood she lost merely an hour before. Sitting back, Raphael settled for keeping a silent vigil over her until magic wore off. What am I going to do with you? He wondered. For some reason he felt so inexplicably drawn to her and couldn't help it. Something about her was just easing in the pain and warming up the empty void in his tormented soul, even if only a little. The small animal he rescued before rubbed its fuzzy head against his hand and started to knead the fabric of his trousers with its laughably tiny claws that compared to demons' talons were nothing. Still, it stung a tiny little bit. Despite this, Raphael let it curl up in his lap again and fall asleep as well while he watched the human woman and the strange spark dancing within her like a candlelight.

--------------------------------------------------

Chapter II is done! Getting angsty. And say hi to Raphael's kitty. Isn't it cute? :3

Also, here's part 1 if you haven't seen it yet.

#darksiders #darksiders 2 #darksiders 3 #fan art #my art #my fic #fan fiction #raphael #darksiders raphael #darksiders oc #nicola #kitten <3 #Cost of Kindness #CoK #I'm still thinking of a name #for the cat I mean

21 notes · View notes