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mind-of-a-hardstan · 4 years

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The Clock Strikes Twelve (Pt. 1)

Pairing: King!Namjoon x Detective!Reader, minor Seokjin x Jeongguk

Genre: fantasy au, royalty au, detective au, demon au, magic au

Rating: M

Warnings: Descriptions of injury, demons, language, a bit of gore, smut in next chapter

Summary: When you and your partner are summoned to the Northern Kingdom, you don’t expect a case intriguing as you find. The king’s brothers face daily injuries and tiptoe the line of death, and the king would do anything to save them. Notorious for your success rate, you and Yoongi must find out what happens to the princes after midnight.

It goes less smoothly than you would want.

Also on AO3

Word count: 11.9K

A/N: This is part of the “Twisted Fairytales: Members in Distress” project by @ksmutclub. It’s based on “The Shoes that were danced to pieces” by Brothers Grimm. It’s the longest bitch I’ve ever written, and the second part will be up soon! Let me know what you think!! I worked very hard on this one.

The sun hadn’t yet risen over the horizon when you and your partner had arrived at the palace gates. You were tired and sore and in desperate need of a bath, but the king had been anything but patient to meet you.

He’d greeted you personally at the gates, despite you and Yoongi being travel-weary and dusty. The sky had been slowly turning from grey to gold. The palace had been beautiful in this light – although it was beautiful in any light – and king Namjoon of the Northern Kingdom looked every bit as regal, beautiful and powerful as he had been described.

“Detectives,” he had a smooth voice, the type of voice that both calms and commands, “welcome to the North.”

The first time you’d met the king’s dark gaze didn’t feel like something you could forget.

His office was filled with this golden light now. It cast a strange glow over the heavy books filling the bookcases, the ebony furniture scattered around the room. A ray of sunlight caught the king’s eye. He looked serious, ready for business despite the early hour. But most of all, he looked tired.

His office smelled like paper and ink the first step you took into it. By the second step, you noticed the smell of leather, then the smell of dust, and then then the smell of autumn leaves.

There was another scent hanging in the air. It was something you couldn’t quite place, but it calmed your spirit immediately. You were almost inclined to follow it, to search for it, but your partner brought your attention back to the here and now.

“Your majesty,” Yoongi started when the king sat down on the ornate high-backed chair behind the enormous desk in the middle of the room. “Would you please explain the situation to us?”

The king looked at your partner with a raised brow. He sighed and rubbed over his neck. “As I’ve stated in my letter –”

“We don’t personally read the letters, your majesty,” you cut him off, realising how rude it might seem only after having done it. “We’re sent on the cases blindly.”

King Namjoon turned his questioning gaze to you, head cocked. “Why?” The question wasn’t unkind, but demanding. The man’s very being demanded respect, and it seemed like he knew it.

“We like to speak to people personally,” you replied professionally, “That way we have a better idea of what’s going on, if they’re lying.”

“Alright,” the king nodded. “I’ll relay the situation again. Two weeks ago, three of my brothers woke the whole palace with blood curdling screams an hour before dawn. When we got to them, they looked bad; they had wounds and they couldn’t speak. The injuries are… strange. My physicians have never seen anything like it. It’s happened every day since. Always exactly an hour before dawn, to the second.

They look worse every day. These… injuries take their toll and it seems like they don’t sleep at all, they’re constantly exhausted, they don’t eat, they barely drink. We don’t know what’s causing it and I don’t know how to help my brothers.”

King Namjoon was trying to relay the situation with professionalism; a straight face and a steady voice, but his words betrayed him. He was struggling.

The case itself was… intriguing. You felt sorry for the princes, but you couldn’t help giving in to the thrill of a good case. You glanced at your partner, who seemed equally as intrigued. Perhaps even delighted.

One thing did catch your attention though. You opened your mouth to speak –

“Your majesty,” Yoongi beat you to it, “how many bothers do you have?”

You smiled inwardly, silently appreciating how you and your partner ticked the same.

The king hesitated before answering, and you expected him to lie. “Four,” he said. Truthful, to your surprise.

“I only recall three princes and a king?” your statement was uttered more as a question than anything else. King Namjoon fixed his eyes on you. You couldn’t read them.

By now the sun was fully over the line of the horizon. The light that filtered through the spotless window was now longer golden, but normal daylight. If the window was open, you might have heard a bird singing.

“I have four brothers, only three of them are recognised as princes, Hoseok, Jimin and Jeongguk,” the king explained, ”The fourth is my brother, but he is not a prince. He is an illegitimate child whom my mother kept a secret from the world. He was raised with us though, and he is still treated as royalty on these grounds.”

“I see,” Yoongi said and you could hear the cogs rattling in his head. “Your majesty, do you know what happens to the princes at night?”

The king fixed Yoongi with an irritated stare. “If I had, I wouldn’t have summoned you.”

“Why haven’t you posted a guard to watch them?” Yoongi challenged, not having it.

“Of course I have,” the king snapped. It was the most blatant display of emotion you’ve seen from him so far. “I’m not entirely useless, detective. Everyone inside the palace falls asleep by the time the clock strikes twelve. The whole palace shuts down.” Magic. This case was getting more intriguing by the second. You eyed your partner again, and he had a similar excited glint in his eye.

The king’s face, however, was dark with worry and a strange sort of fury.

“That’s… quite dangerous. Does it apply to the whole city or merely the palace?”

“Just the palace,” King Namjoon said, eyes back on you, “I’ve posted guards to keep watch outside of the palace walls, just in case. The moment they step foot onto the grounds, though, they just drop like they were shot, according to reports. They wake up in the morning unharmed and confused.”

“Your majesty, has the same happened this morning?”

The king looked back at you and this time his eyes were tired again. He absentmindedly rubbed over his throat. “Yes,” he said, “every day without fail.”

“May we see the princes? I would like to inspect their injuries.”

“Of course.” King Namjoon stood up and walked to the door, opening it for you. When you passed him, that scent passed your nose again and you could finally place it.

It was the king himself, and he smelled like open grassland right after a thunderstorm.

===

King Namjoon led you through the labyrinthine halls of the palace to a huge room with large windows letting in the morning light. The view was gorgeous, a beautiful scene of the palace garden and the river running its course behind the palace. You would have been inclined to approach the windows and admire the scenery, if your focus wasn’t one something else.

The room was stocked with beautiful cherry wood furniture and three big four-poster beds. On each bed lay a prince, each under a fluffy blanket and tucked in so carefully, hooked onto fluids. They all looked like they were on the brink of death.

Ghosts, shells… and nothing more.

All of them lay with their eyes open, barely blinking and staring into nothingness. If it hadn’t been for their shallow breathing, you might have thought they were dead.

A man sat on one of the beds, the one on the far side of the room. He was beautiful – truly beautiful – but his eyes were teary and he was stroking over one of the prince’s hair. He didn’t acknowledge you and Yoongi at all.

“My gods,” Yoongi whispered next to you, and you had to agree.

“They get worse every day. Jimin’s the worst off, we don’t know why.” Namjoon whispered, as if he didn’t dare to actually speak the words. He looked at the bed the stood roughly in the middle. Such sorrow in the King’s eyes. “His infections – well. It’s better when you see for yourselves.”

“What are you giving them?” Yoongi asked, pointing to the drips hanging next to their beds.

“Vitamins, electrolytes, a few painkillers. They don’t eat or drink, we had to come up with something.” Yoongi just hummed in response.

You looked at your partner. There was steel in his eyes, so little emotion. Just a front, you knew Yoongi too well. The victims and the crime scenes always stirred something in his soft heart. Yoongi locked eyes with you and understood your silent request. You’d tackle Jimin together, but first the other two.

The man in the room ran his knuckles over the prince’s cheek one last time before moving toward the door – toward you. He bowed to the king, who smiled at him, and then the man dipped his head in your direction, desperation in his eyes.

He didn’t say a word, but he didn’t need to. Please, that look said, save my love. And then he was gone.

“May I?” you gestured to a bed that the man didn’t sit on, like a coward.

“Of course. That would be prince Hoseok, the eldest of us all.”

You moved into prince Hoseok’s line of sight and smiled when those tired eyes followed your movements. The prince could still observe at least. Could he speak?

“Hello, your Highness” you said softly, not wanting to startle the man. “My name is Y/n and I’m a detective. I’m here to help you. Can you speak?”

You heard Yoongi’s soft voice murmur on the other side of the room. He was speaking to the last prince, where the man had sat. You ignored him for now, focusing on where you were.

The prince blinked and swallowed, movements slow. He tried to smile, but his mouth just twitched awkwardly as if the muscles were too tired to function. He took a deep breath and then; “Yes,” he finally croaked out, voice breathy and broken, “but it’s – tiring.”

“That’s okay, don’t tire yourself out more. May I examine you, your Highness?” you asked, glancing at the king too. King Namjoon stood by the door, watching and listening, but giving you the space to work. He gave a slight nod and you turned your gaze back to prince Hoseok.

“Only if you… call me Hoseok,” he answered, words so slow. There was a ghost of a smile on his lips while he watched you. You couldn’t decide if he was being friendly or if he was being a flirt. Perhaps both.

You smiled back, deciding that you liked him. “Alright, Hoseok. I’m going to take the blanket off of you and poke around for a bit. Let me know as soon as something hurts, alright?” A slight nod, and then he closed his eyes, letting you do with him as you pleased.

You spared another glance at Yoongi, who was sat down next to the young prince, holding his hand as he spoke. Slow words, you could tell. But you couldn’t hear what he was saying; he was speaking too soft and the room was too big. Yoongi was listening though, so gentle.

You put down your satchel and gently removed the blanket from Hoseok’s body. Even though his hollowed cheeks were indication enough, you couldn’t help but be surprised at how thin he really was. He was nothing more than a bag of bones. His skin was pale, but there were harsh purplish red marks around his wrists.

Yoongi gasped loudly from across the room, but you didn’t react. You had your own prince to worry about now, you’d ask Yoongi about his soon enough.

You poked and prodded Hoseok for a bit more, but you found nothing else out of the ordinary. Just those ugly bruises on his wrists.

Until you got to his feet.

Every drop of air left your lungs when you uncovered the prince’s feet, along with a small little sound of surprise, horror, disgust.

“Heaven, save us.”

The soles of Hoseok’s feet were covered in angry blisters and nasty looking boils, everything red due to inflammation. There were ugly blue and purple bruises all over his feet and ankles. What stood out most, however, was that the liquid dripping out of the boils were an ugly, dark purple. It smelled like rotten meat.

You said a small prayer to the moon, and then went on in silence.

You produced a tiny little phial from your satchel and gently scraped a bit of the liquid into it. Hoseok let out a tiny moan of pain, and you murmured an apology. You and Yoongi would examine it in silence later, because this shit sure as hell wasn’t normal.

“Hoseok,” you said softly, “what happened to your feet?”

Hoseok opened his mouth, but shut it just as quickly, as if some invisible force physically shut him up. The prince swallowed, and then simply shook head. His eyes were big and filled with pure, unbridled fear.

“It’s okay,” you gently lay your knuckles on his cheek, “take a deep breath for me. You don’t have to say anything you don’t want to.”

Hoseok breathed deep before talking again, “I can’t.” You simply smiled at him, and then shuffled through your satchel. “Detective,” Hoseok mumbled after a few seconds, voice strained and scared.

“Yes?” you looked at him and gently lay a comforting hand in his.

“I want to… but…” another deep, tired breath, “we’re not… allowed.”

You smiled at him and nodded in understanding. “It’s okay. We’ll get to the bottom of this, yeah?”

Not allowed. You swallowed and pulled out another small phial from your satchel, this time filled with a shimmering white dust. You didn’t need to cast a detection spell, the use of magic was obvious. You just needed to be sure what kind of magic was used.

You sprinkled the dust over Hoseok’s head, expecting it to turn grey, expecting dark magic. You watched with a clenched jaw as it turned black instead.

Demonic power.

A demon was among these humans, however it got out. A lion among sheep.

“Don’t worry, Hoseok. We’ll figure it out,” you whispered again and lay a comforting hand on his hair. “Rest for a bit.” You covered Hoseok with the blanket and moved back to Yoongi, who seemed to be done with Jeongguk too.

The king motioned to step closer, to talk, but you help up a hand to stop him. You needed to speak to your partner first. He frowned, hand at his throat, but he stayed put.

“Heaven’s fucking mother, the godsforsaken feet?!” Yoongi whisper yelled. You nodded solemnly. “It looked like they walked over acid,” he went on, rubbing a hand over his face.

“’Godsforsaken might be right…” You bit your lip, “I checked the magic, Yoongi. The dust turned black.”

“Black,” Yoongi stated with a blank look. You nodded. “Fuck, are you telling me there’s a demon running around?”

“It seems like it,” you said, “the prince also said that he wasn’t allowed to say anything, I think this is more than just some sort of curse.”

“Yeah, no shit. The kid over there was crying when he tried to talk, but it was like his mouth was glued shut and fuck all came out. All I got out of him was something about punishment. He looked so tired, Y/n…”

“I know, I don’t think they’ll last much longer, with whatever’s going on. Did you take a sample of the purple stuff?”

“Yeah, I’ll set up the lab later today. Did yours have the fucked up wrists too?” You nodded again. “Fuck. It looks like they were tied up or something. I took a sample of the dead skin there, too. Maybe we could figure out what they were tied up with.”

“Good.” You gestured to the last bed, “Shall we?” Yoongi nodded.

Jimin did end up looking worse. He barely reacted to either of you. Along with the marks on his wrists, there was an angry looking purple ring around his neck, dotted with nasty blisters and missing skin. It looked like a bad burn. The soles of his feet barely had normal skin left, just purple pus leaking out.

“Heaven’s fucking mother,” Yoongi cursed when he tried to take a sample and Jimin nearly screamed. His mouth was open, eyes closed, and no sound came out. “This poor fucking soul, gods.”

You tested the magic again with the white powder. It had the same outcome as last time: the powder turned black.

You were about to move when Jimin grabbed your wrist with a weak hold. He tried to look at you, but his eyes wouldn’t focus and kept closing. You kneeled next to him, taking his hand in yours.

“I’m here,” you said softly, trying to soothe the broken kid. “I’m here, what do you need?”

“Tae…” the prince tried before his energy caved. He closed his eyes and a dry sob wracked his tired body. He kept his eyes closed but opened his mouth again, speaking in a wheeze. “Help… tae… huu –”

Tae. It was a name – partially at least. Was it a person or a creature? Were they the cause of this? Did they need help, or did Jimin need their help? You caught Yoongi’s eye, he heard it too. You filed the clue away for later.

When you were finally done, satchels packed up and prince neatly covered, you approached the impatient looking king. He was fiddling with his collar by now.

“Excuse the wait, your Majesty. You probably have a busy schedule,” you said with an apologetic smile.

“No need to apologise detective, I’ve cleared my morning for you.”

“How kind of you, your Majesty,” Yoongi said, sounding half sarcastic and half surprised. A ghost of a smile appeared on the king’s lips, like he wanted to supress it, but only half succeeded.

“Now, what can you tell me?”

“We’ve only just collected evidence ourselves,” you said, “We need to examine it before we can tell you anything for sure.” The king nodded, but his jaw was clenched. He seemed so desperate, so tired of not knowing, being helpless.

He looked like he was sleeping as much as his brothers, even though you knew that was untrue.

Before you could stop yourself, you laid a hand on the king’s shoulder. For a single moment you didn’t speak to Namjoon, King of the Northern Kingdom. For a moment, he wasn’t a simple client. You looked into those sharp and terrified eyes and you spoke to the man beneath.

“We’ll figure it out. We’ll save them.”

“I’d do anything…” The king closed his eyes for a second, a moment of vulnerability, before locking eyes with you again. This time they were serious again, focused and professional. “If you have any news,” he said on his way out of the room, “notify the closest servant immediately.”

===

You got to work as soon as the servants led you to your shared chamber. The room itself was beautiful and exactly how you requested; two big desks relatively close to each other, big walking space, two beds, en suite bathroom and big windows. The view was beautiful too, overlooking the yellowing garden and the city beyond.

You didn’t take the time to admire the scenery, though. Yoongi claimed one desk to himself, getting started on setting up his lab. You threw your suitcase next to the other, piling books, paper and pens onto it.

With the clinking of Yoongi’s equipment as background noise, you listed everything that you gathered so far, and started doing research, taking notes along the way.

You’d worked with demons before. They were night creatures, and they preferred the exact times that the king had mentioned. They couldn’t do anything on their own, they needed to possess a body and for that, they needed to be summoned.

Certain people, perfect blood, protection runes, summoning circles, magic, demon trials –

You were in the middle of tracing an intricate rune when Yoongi spoke up from the silence, “Y/n, come over here for a second.”

He was sat on a three legged stool, looking for all the world like a chemist. They’d be close in assuming that, but Yoongi would beat someone with a book if he heard them.

“That’s Master fucking Potioneer to you, asshole!” was a common line of his. “I didn’t study this shit for ten years for you to be ignorant.”

He had the phials containing the purple puss laying on the table, scribbles on a writing block, various strange things scattered about. You pretended not to notice the fairy dust. Those poor things…

“What?” you asked, leaning over the desk.

“Okay so we can both agree that this purple shit is something neither of us has seen before, right?” Yoongi started, pointing to the phials.

“Yeah,” you agreed, motioning for him to go on.

“See, there’s a reason for that,” Yoongi explained, completely in work mode, “I dissected the puss, and the usual stuff was in there. Yaknow, like normal pus, but then I got to the bottom of why it’s purple. It’s about their souls. You know what pus is, right? Dead white blood cells that rush to a wounded area, and then it also sort of drains it?” You nodded. “This is like that, except that the reason it’s purple is because there are flecks of their souls in there, trying to mend the damage and dying by it.”

“Hold on,” you interjected, holding up a hand, “they hurt their feet and now their souls are trying to heal it? Why?”

“It’s the other way around. I think their souls were hurt and it projected onto their bodies. It gets worse.” Yoongi held up another phial with white flecks in it. “I took samples of the skin on their wrists and Jimin’s neck to see what they were tied with. What I thought were bruises turns out to be burns. It’s purplish for the same reason as the feet. They’re tied up with hot metal, something like handcuffs – perhaps chains. But… it’s definitely not their physical bodies.”

“Not their – so their souls. Their souls were chained up.”

“Not ‘were,’ they still are. I have a suspicion that that’s why they can’t talk. Someone has control over their souls.”

You took a microscope slide from off the table and looked at the tiny amount of blue flecks on it. It was a strange thought that you were holding tiny pieces of dead soul in your hand.

“So their souls are being held captive in hell, I assume, since demons don’t typically have access to other realms. They’re not allowed to say anything about it or they’re gonna be punished, according to the youngest. We’ve discovered that demonic powers have been used, so it’s safe to assume that they were kidnapped,” you summed up. Yoongi nodded. Well, fuck. This case was getting more interesting by the second. More dangerous too. This had to be one powerful demon, ripping their souls from their bodies like that.

“That about sums it up,” Yoongi said.

“According to the books,” you started relaying what you’ve learned, “demons can’t do any harm in the human realm on their own. Possession is some complicated procedure, and not everyone’s compatible. The demon has to be summoned first, but apparently they can still possess even years after they’re summoned. Until then they just… roam.”

“Yes, I remember,” Yoongi interjected, waving his hand, “the Western Witches summoning demons left, right and centre, some demons escaped, the witches were burned, all that jazz.”

“Right, so there’s no way to know if the demon is new or old. It doesn’t matter, anyway. A normal demon could possess anyone willing or scared enough to let them in, like the one we had to deal with last year, but I think it’s safe to assume that this one is a bit more powerful, which means they need a stronger host. These demons also have… a taste. A standard, if you will.”

You threw a book at Yoongi, and he caught it flawlessly.

“That book lists the specifications. I thought the demon was some kind of upper-class demon, like our version of a rich lord, or something. It did damage, but I didn’t realise how extraordinary the damage was. Hurting a human’s body sure takes something, but hurting a human’s soul like that… it takes a lot of power.” Yoongi nodded along with you while flipping through the book. “I think it’s safe to assume that it’s royalty.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi nodded again, still reading, “probably. So it’s only compatible with a human who also has royal blood. Bonus points if they had magical blood too.” He looked up, thinking. “Maybe an Eastern or Western royal witch?”

“Maybe. It’ll definitely make a good host. Another book said that royal demons also prefer tainted hosts.” Yoongi closed the book and looked back up with a frown. You elaborated. “I mean like, disgraced royals, bastard children, trauma victims. People who have some sort of… I don’t know, black dot on them, if that makes sense.”

“Yeah, yeah it does,” Yoongi nodded.

“I’m currently looking up different spells and runes. We’re gonna need to pull out all the stops with this one, I think. I found a few banishing runes, but I’m going to need a bit more time.”

“I don’t think banishing the demon is going to be the problem. If we figure out who it is, an exorcism is the least of our problems, we’ve done it before. But if those kids are in hell, how do we get them back?” Yoongi said in thought. You nodded with him.

“I thought the same. I’m researching that too, but I can’t find any cases like this.”

The room went silent for a moment. You breathed it in, held it in your lungs. You needed a moment. You were speaking about this like you would speak about a missing jewel, but the picture of Jimin’s bony hand grabbing yours, the man looking at you with desperation, the fear in Hoseok’s eyes, the wail in Jeongguk’s voice –

“We need to talk to the king,” Yoongi said, pulling you out of your head. Judging by the knowing look in his eyes, it was intentional. “We need to find out who or what ‘Tae’ is, too. Perhaps the king could tell us.”

“Yeah.” You shook your head and stood up. Yoongi followed suit.

===

A servant, clearly under strict orders, took you to the king immediately. The sun was slowly setting over the horizon, causing the golden glow from this morning to appear again, only more beautiful.

King Namjoon was in his office, where you had had your first conversation with him, hours ago. This time, however, he was not alone. There were two men inside, speaking with him. You recognised one of them, the one standing. He had been in the room with the youngest prince this morning, crying by his bed.

“Ah, detectives,” the king said. He had a welcoming smiled on his face, surprisingly warm. Was a king not supposed to be cold? To inspire fear? That was what you had been taught, wasn’t it? “You have news, I assume?”

The two other men eyed you and your partner with interest. Yoongi shuffled in slight discomfort under the scrutiny. He never liked nosy royals.

“Your majesty,” you said and dipped your head, “Excuse the disturbance, you seem to be in a meeting?”

“Please, don’t apologise. This is Seokjin, my most trusted advisor and friend,” he said, and gestured to the man you met earlier today. You offered him a smile, and he returned it with his whole heart, too honest for an aristocrat. You liked him. “And this is Taehyung, my brother. You may call me Namjoon among this crowd. We were discussing the death of my cousin, the letter had arrived today.”

Taehyung. Bells bells bells. Taehyung – Tae –

Tae, help, Tae, help, Tae, help –

“Tae…” Yoongi said out loud after a moment, like he wanted to test the word on his tongue. You eyed him, thoughts running just like his seemed to.

So Jimin was talking about his brother. Did he want you to help Taehyung, or did he want Taehyung to help him? Was Taehyung the cause of this? Did Jimin beg for help against Taehyung?

“Only my closest call me that,” Taehyung said with a kind smile. He had a charm about him, childish but captivating. You couldn’t imagine him being the cause of this.

“Yes,” Yoongi finally spoke up with a low voice, “We know.” Taehyung looked at Yoongi strangely, but before he could say anything, you cut him off.

“I’m sorry for your loss, your majesty,” you said, offering the king a gentle smile. He waved his hand.

“Thank you, but I hardly knew him. It’s not a personal loss, as sad as that sounds.” You nodded in understanding, because you did understand. Politics weren’t exactly warm, and family gatherings weren’t exactly for fun.

Seokjin stepped forward before the conversation could continue. “It’s nice to finally meet you,” the man said, “I hope you’ll forgive my rudeness this morning, but Eastern courtesy forbids me from making new acquaintances where the sick must heal.”

“Of course, I understand,” you replied with a smile of your own. You never understood the Eastern uses, but you knew them all by heart anyway. Yoongi was still staring at Taehyung. He was trying to spot something, trying to explain something to himself, and Taehyung just looked on in confusion.

“Are you close with the young prince?” you asked Seokjin, redirecting your attention back to him. You knew the answer, but you wanted to hear from him. Seokjin’s smile, however, changed to something bitter and sad. A sign of something out of place, something broken and aching inside him.

“Yes,” he said and then there was a beat of silence. “I, uh, our wedding was supposed to be a few days ago.” A joyless laugh bubbled up his throat. “I guess you can say he slept through the ceremony.”

“I’m so sorry,” you said. You had nothing to offer him but a hand on his shoulder and half a promise, so you gave him just that. “I promise, my lord, I will do my best to get your prince back to you.”

“Both of us,” Yoongi chimed in gently. You glanced at him. He seemed to be done with sizing the non-prince up.

“You may call me Seokjin,” he directed the statement at both of you, “I never liked these fancy titles.” You smiled and nodded, and so did Yoongi. Yoongi even whipped out his wide, gummy smile. He liked Seokjin too.

You approached Taehyung, who had watched in silence, but before you could say anything, he spoke up, “If you call me ‘lord’ after you called me ‘Tae,’ I’ll tell them to chop off your head.”

It was such a playful tone that caught you so off guard that you giggled. You caught yourself and bowed your head. “Taehyung,” you said, “I’m Y/n.”

“Yes, I know. My brother has been raving about your arrival all week. It got worse after today, though.” Taehyung had a mischievous glint in his eye, and he laughed when a pencil hit his cheek. The king was pointing a threatening finger at him, eyes narrowed. You had to smile at the careless display of playfulness, of affection.

“That’s very good to know,” you mused, “I heard about you from your brother, Prince Jimin. I was rather curious about you.”

Taehyung’s face went from friendly and charming to serious and wide-eyed. “Jimin? What did he say?”

“I’m not sure yet,” you cocked your head, “I’ll tell you as soon as I am.” Taehyung frowned at this, but didn’t question you.

You expected Yoongi to introduce himself too, but he didn’t. He stayed near the door and kept his mouth shut. You nearly rolled your eyes, but left him be.

“Detectives,” the king said after a moment of silence, rubbing at his neck with a hopeful look in his eye, “You have news?”

“It’s… rather sensitive,” you said and looked at the two men in the room. Seokjin sat back down and turned to you. Taehyung looked uncomfortable and unhappy.

“That’s alright, I trust them and so can you,” the king said with a smile. You nodded, not wanting to meddle. “Lay it on me, detectives.”

===

Dust and sweat from your travels still stuck to your skin uncomfortably, and you were in desperate need of a bath. By the time the servant showed you the towels, different soaps and how to adjust the temperature, the sun was gone.

The bathing room was huge. The tub was built into the floor, already filled with steaming water. The room itself was dark, made of bare stone and decorated with reds and oranges. Candlelight made the shadows in the room come alive. Steam curled to the ceiling, dancing with the fire in an almost hypnotising way.

It was the perfect place to think.

You melted when you stepped into the water. The temperature was perfect, the water smelled so good, the room was so quiet. You lay back, submerging your ears and closing your eyes.

You were in the king’s office when the servants had brought dinner. The food would have been amazing if it weren’t for the fact that you were too focussed on the discussion to even taste it.

King Namjoon had handled the information better than another person might have handled it. He’d dropped his head in his hands when Yoongi told him that his brothers’ souls were trapped in hell, and he stayed like that for a full minute, but he had no anger outburst, no denial, no screaming.

Seokjin had turned white as a sheet, but he didn’t move. His face had went slack, and it was like all feeling had seeped out of his body. You could tell, because you knew what that was like. Taehyung, on the other hand, had cried. He’d hid his face behind his hands and just cried. It was Yoongi who laid an arm around his shoulder.

“I need time,” the king had said, “to think. I’ll meet you tomorrow morning. We’ll figure out what to do then, but for now I need a moment.”

You took a moment, too. A moment to breathe, to think without having to come up with a solution, to just let your mind process. You focused on washing yourself, focused on your own body, before laying back and shutting down.

You breathed deep, letting the scents in the room calm you. Thoughts flitted through your head in no order and with no rhyme or reason.

Help my brothers – souls were hurt – tae – I can’t – possession of a human body – royal blood – kidnapped – married – neck – purple – help – chained up – open grassland – home – scratch – last stroke of midnight –

Last stroke of midnight.

You were gone when the clock chimed twelve.

===

Waking up in this castle was the most unpleasant thing you’ve experienced in your life. At first you hadn’t realised what it was that woke you in the first place. The sun wasn’t up yet, but the birds were awake, singing their hearts out. It took you a second to process that it wasn’t the birds that woke you.

It was screaming.

It wasn’t coming from a specific place, though. It was like it was coming from inside of your head, even though it was unmistakeably the voices of the princes.

The second thing you couldn’t understand was why you were so cold. Your teeth started chattering the moment you registered, but you’d been shivering before you even woke up. There was a rather logical explanation for that as well: you were floating in freezing water. You’d passed out in the bathtub.

And well. There had been better mornings in your life.

By the time your feet were warm enough in your boots to walk to the source of the noise, Yoongi was already in front of the door and talking to Seokjin. Neither of them looked any better than you did – dark rings under their eyes, puffy cheeks, both holding coffee. Yoongi was also holding a suitcase with his travel-laboratory.

Seokjin looked haunted, though. Not just tired, but haunted. You couldn’t imagine what it must have been like to wake up to your lover’s screams every day.

He wore it surprisingly well, given the circumstances.

“Morning, sleeping beauty,” Yoongi said with a snicker. “You look like a sewer rat, princess.” You scowled at him, consciously touching your still damp hair.

“Fuck off,” you snarled, “you look like you’ve been eaten by sewer rats, so shut up.”

“Did you…” Seokjin stopped himself to reconsider his wording. “Why are you wet?”

“I fell asleep in the bathtub,” you said with a smile as sweet as arsenic and Yoongi cackled like the little bitch witch he was.

“Oh,” Seokjin said, surprised and barely supressing his own laugh, “did Namjoon not warn you about the… uh, the curfew?”

“He did, now can we please move on to more important things than my choice of bed?” Yoongi just snorted in agreement.

The princes looked worse than they had the previous day. Hoseok was squirming and crying and sobbing with a broken voice. His wrists were bleeding, and you immediately called for Yoongi, who knew more about the wounds. You refused to fuck this up yourself.

“Can’t,” he just growled out, frantically fussing with Jimin’s feet. He was still screaming, but his voice had given out. You’d dared to look, and you were glad you had a strong stomach.

You dealt with Hoseok’s wrists yourself as best as you knew how. You applied the balsam that Yoongi had handed you for his feet. You talked to him a bit, not needing him to answer, but just to let him know you were there.

There wasn’t much more that you could do right now, and it unsettled you.

Seokjin was taking care of Jeongguk on his request. Yoongi had just given him the balsam too and told him what to do. The youngest seemed to be the best off, though. He was crying and hurt, but his wrists weren’t bleeding and his feet looked better than the others.

“We – we dance…” Hoseok suddenly breathed out, breath heavy. You looked down in surprise, not expecting him to speak. He breathed deep and then pushed the next part out, “They make us… dan – nce.”

“Gods…” you whispered, and squeezed his hand in comfort.

When two physicians came in, you were already done and the princes were sleeping. Hoseok was clutching your hand desperately, so you let him hold on while you were reading and Yoongi was still fussing. He had taken down the IVs and dissected them, grumbling all the way. When he saw them, standing at the door with confused faces, Yoongi nearly threw a vase at them. He would have, if you hadn’t grabbed it with a “down boy!”

“I should curse you both. I should fucking murder you both.” He was seething. “The next time either of you put opium in an IV, I swear to every God that I will hunt you down and wrap your colon around your neck.”

They froze, eyes wide at the tiny man with wild eyes and needles in his hands.

“Just go.” It was Seokjin this time. He was still on Jeongguk’s bed, running his hands through his hair while the young prince slept. The men bowed without a word and then left, nearly tripping over their own feet. Silence followed. You stared after the men with amused eyes and shook your head, but went back to your research.

“I’m gonna need to figure out another concoction to give them,” Yoongi mumbled, lost in thought.

“Seokjin?” you said after another moment of Yoongi’s grumbling.

“Hmm?”

“Did anything weird happen to Jeongguk before this?” Hoseok was clutching your hand again, fingers flexing every now and then. You ran your other hand through his hair, too, trying to soothe what you could.

“Nothing that made me think that this would happen,” Seokjin said, looking at Jeongguk like he was fragile. Like he loved him, like he was hurting. “He started having nightmares, started having this rash on his wrists. We thought it was stress, you know? What with the wedding and all. Then he stopped sleeping altogether, said the nightmares were too bad. He was paranoid, wouldn’t let me touch him. His wrists stopped itching and started hurting, and the next thing I knew, he screamed his throat sore the next morning. All three brothers at the same time.”

“I’m so sorry,” you said, “This must have hit hard.” Seokjin smiled bitterly, eyes just a bit teary.

“Yeah,” he said, voice thick, “Tae didn’t stop crying for a whole hour after you left. I didn’t see Namjoon afterward, either.”

“And you?”

“I refused.” There was this look in his eye; stubborn and angry. He gripped the prince’s hair a little possessively. “I cried enough when I wasn’t allowed to have him. I gave up everything – my family and my titles, even my dignity – to be with Jeongguk. I won’t cry again until I lose him, and he’s still very fucking much here.”

You wanted so say more, but you were interrupted with loud, steady footsteps and the smell of an open grassland wrapped around you like a blanket. You ignored the thought that it smelled like home.

“Detectives,” the king greeted upon entering the room. You noticed only then that the sun was rising over the horizon and that the king was bathed in gold. He had a questioning look in his eye, and a halfway amused smile on his face. “Does someone in here know why I found one of my best physicians crying in the hallway?”

Seokjin honest to god snickered and you had to suppress a smirk of your own.

“Yeah,” Yoongi said distractedly, still busy with his concoction. “Dickheads get thrown out. Wonder what happened to the other one.”

The king’s face morphed into a completely amused smile. “The other one is the reason why I’m here, the little tattletale.”

Despite yourself, you giggled, and it earned you a playful smile from the king. Seokjin looked him in the eye and pouted. “Are you going to scold us, oh high majesty king Namjoonie?”

King Namjoon snorted, collapsed onto a chair and rubbed his neck again. You were beginning to think that it was a nervous tick of his. “Please consider refraining from making my staff cry,” he joked, voice monotone and almost robot-like. You couldn’t help but be surprised at the easy-going display. “How are they?”

“Worse than yesterday,” Yoongi said, “but they’re surprisingly fucking persistent in surviving.”

“They’re taking good care of them,” Seokjin said with a sincere voice.

“Do you have a plan, detectives?” the king asked tentatively. “I think we need to discuss the course of action. This is nothing to be taken lightly.”

The sun was moving slowly over the horizon, bathing the whole room in golden light now. Yoongi put down what he was busy with, a bright red potion now, and turned to the king.

“For now, I’m making a potion to replace the IV that your incompetent doctors hooked them up to. It’ll give them more strength and help ease their pain. It’ll keep them alive until we save them.”

“I’m researching runes for that to happen, your majesty–”

“I thought we were past that,” the king interrupted. You blinked in confusion and disbelief.

“Excuse me?”

“I told you to call me Namjoon, when no one’s around, I don’t mind.” The king had a kind smile on his face, dimples on full display and the sight made you stop for just a moment, just a split second, to admire it, before your brain started up again.

“Right. Well, I’m going to need to construct a rune of my own to bring your brothers back. This isn’t the first time something like this has happened, but I can only find books on what the symptoms were. I don’t think a witch was ever present to help the victims. At least, it hasn’t been recorded,” you frowned at the books scattered next to Hoseok’s bed. It may have been recorded, but the Westerners destroyed all their witch’s journals during the trials. “Yoongi already made a potion that will force the demon out, and I have rune to banish it after, but we’re going to need to find the demon first. Or, the person it possessed.”

“Alright, and how do we find them?”

“We know that they roam the halls of the castle after midnight. They’d be the only one awake,” Yoongi answered, having moved away from his lab with the potion in hand, now a soft pink.

“Sure, but how do you plan to spot them if no one can stay awake?” Seokjin asked.

“We don’t plan to spot them,” you said with a smile, “We plan to catch them. Yoongi and will set up traps all over the palace in the hopes that it’ll hold the demon until morning.”

Namjoon shook his head solemnly. “We’ve tried traps, and we found them all piled on my throne, in pieces.”

“You haven’t tried runes and poisons. It’s worth a try, don’t you think?” you said, hands toying with the book still in your lap.

Yoongi was busy hooking the princes up to the new fluids. Hoseok swallowed and grimaced in discomfort when the needle pierced his skin. His eyes were open, he’d been listening the entire time. He looked at you, then to the other side of the room, then back to you. He seemed panicked.

“What do you need?” you asked. Hoseok just shook his head violently and then closed his eyes tightly.

“Can’t.”

You accepted it and let him hold your hand in an iron grip again. It was frustrating to have three people with the answers in their eyes, and they weren’t allowed to say a thing.

“The hardest part is going to be bringing your brothers back,” you said, “It’s easy to banish a soul. It’s hard as fuck to bring it back. Banishing the demon won’t bring them back, it’ll just prevent the whole ordeal from happening again.”

Namjoon looked at Hoseok with pursed lips and a clenched jaw. “Yeah.”

“Namjoon,” Yoongi said, “who was Taehyung’s mother?”

“The daughter of some lord with whom my father did business in the West,” Namjoon explained, “She was thrown out when she got pregnant, so my father took her home with him. My mother was less than impressed. The woman died during birth.”

“A royal bastard with Western blood,” Yoongi said and looked at you.

“It fits,” you agreed. He was the perfect recipe for disaster.

“I’ll ignore the slur,” Namjoon grit out, “but do tell me why my brother is suddenly a suspect.”

“Demons have standards, and Taehyung fits them perfectly,” Yoongi simply said, “There’s a good chance he’s the possessed one.”

“Taehyung is just as happy and easy-going as he always was, given the circumstances. I’d know if my brother was possessed,” Namjoon said, a bit sourly. You shook your head, and he fixed you with a challenging stare. “Do you disagree, detective?”

“Yes,” you said, “Demons hide during the day, you wouldn’t notice anything wrong with your brother before midnight.”

The king stood up, clearly done with the conversation. With neutral eyes, he said, “If you need anything, I’ll be in my office. I have a meeting soon.”

===

You hadn’t stayed next to Hoseok long after the king had left. You’d spent hours setting up as many traps as you could with Yoongi. It was a shot in the dark, and Yoongi was still working on a potion that would keep you awake.

You’d spotted Taehyung too, but he was in a rush and just sent you a quick wave and a bright, toothy smile. You somehow couldn’t imagine a demon being inside the boy, but demons hid during the day, and there wouldn’t be a trace of it. Which meant that Taehyung was still a viable suspect.

The rest of the day was spent working on a rune to bring the princes back. You’d decided to try a summoning circle of sorts, but personalised to each prince to avoid summoning demons instead of princes. Perhaps if you enriched it with something they loved, something they were passionate about.

Namjoon would know.

Yoongi barely reacted when you left the room, wrapped up in his own research. You only realised that it was dark after you left your room. Torches were lit along the palace walls, flames dancing with the wind coming through the open windows. A guard pointed you in the direction of the king, and you quickly followed the long corridors, not wanting to waste time.

If it was already dark then midnight wasn’t far off.

The door you stopped at was big and heavy and… beautiful. There were flowers carved on the dark wood, and vines woven into themselves in a very familiar pattern.

You knocked.

“Who is it?” came Namjoon’s voice.

“Detective Y/n!” The door swung open and your breath caught in your throat.

You told yourself that it had nothing to do with the fact that Namjoon was shirtless, because he was. He was shirtless and the first thing you saw when that door opened was his broad chest, that golden skin, that gorgeous –

But no, that’s not why your breath caught in your throat. Even if you noticed the red ring around his neck seconds after your knees went weak.

“Oh, gods,” you breathed.

“It’s rude to stare, detective,” Namjoon said, clearly a bit smug. You would have laughed. You would have laughed and then came up with something to throw him off guard, like maybe I just don’t like depriving myself of beautiful things.

Instead, your blood started to boil under your skin. Because the reason for your staring wasn’t his physique, instead it was the reddish-purple ring winding around his neck, and you didn’t know what to do with the fear that crept into your bones.

“You idiot,” you growled, and the king’s smirk fell off his face. You pushed him into the room and slammed the door shut behind you.

“Fuck – what?” Namjoon stumbled, nearly fell on his ass, but caught himself.

“You absolute fucking idiot,” you pointed your finger at his neck, “Do you know what that is?! Of course you do, because we told you everything about it yesterday, so tell me, king, why you didn’t fucking tell me.”

Namjoon’s face went serious in a way that was almost severe. “You forget your place, detective, I don’t have to tell you anything.”

“Don’t hit me with that bullshit,” you snarled, “You told me to drop honorifics, so I dropped honorifics. Now tell me about that wound or you can save your own goddamn brothers and yourself.”

The king raised his eyebrows and stayed quiet for a second. You stared him down, and after a second a ghost of a smile appeared on his face.

“I could go to war with the East for that tone, you know?” Namjoon said, voice now back to normal. He sat down on of the plush chairs scattered about the outrageously big room.

“Our company’s from the West.”

“Yes, but you aren’t, are you, Y/n?”

Your blood went cold. “Say what you want to say, king.”

“I’m not threatening you, I’m poking fun. But I know you’re the Eastern King’s niece. And with his son dead, you’re the next in line, aren’t you?” He leaned back on his palms, fully exposing his front and the stretch of that chest –

“I suggest you keep that information to yourself,” you said lowly, “because I know everything about this castle and runes are easy to rig.”

The king’s smile widened, he was enjoying this. “I told you, I wasn’t threatening you, so I beg the same courtesy. I just felt like I should be honest about the knowledge I possess.”

“Yes, yes, fine,” you waved your hand in an irritated way, “Can we get to the part you weren’t honest about?” You gestured to the inflamed skin around the base of his neck again.

Namjoon took a deep breath and you didn’t look at his chest. “I passed out at my desk the first night of the curfew. I woke up with the ring around my neck. It hasn’t changed since, doesn’t get worse or anything.”

“Where are you normally after twelve?”

“In here. I would have been in here the first night too, if I’d known. I make sure I’m in my room before twelve. I don’t want the wrong people to find me in the wrong places.

“Do you want to know the only goddamn reason you’re not writhing in agony the way your brothers are right now?” you said darkly. The king raised his eyebrow in question. “It’s two things. You know that door you hide behind? It’s got a protection rune on it, a pretty fucking good one too. But do you know how easy it is to break that rune? A sturdy knife should do the trick.”

You stepped closer, so that Namjoon had to crane his neck to be able to look at you. “Go on,” he said, and you hated that his voice got lower, hated that you noticed.

“The second is luck. Because your dumbass is lucky that I figured it out before the demon did.”

You turned away from the king and scanned the room for a piece of paper and a pencil. The room really was ridiculously big. A bed in the corner, a sofa with chairs, a large desk with a stool, side boards and wardrobes scattered about.

You bounded to the desk, and grabbed the pencil laying ready. You used the first piece of paper you could find and scrawled a rune, accurate to the last degree on pure muscle memory. You crumpled it up and held it out to a confused looking Namjoon.

“Make yourself at home?” the king said with an unsure smile. You rolled your eyes.

“Swallow.”

“What?”

“Take this piece of paper and swallow it. It’s ten minutes of unconditional protection. I’m going to leave this room, I’m going to gather my things, and then I’m going to come back, and I’m going to examine you so that I know what the fuck is going on.”

The king nodded and did as you told him.

You grumbled all the way to your room. Yoongi was at his desk, where you left him, and watched with a frown when you packed your things with a scowl.

“Who pissed in your teacup?” Yoongi asked.

“The king has a red ring around his neck,” you said, “So now I’m going over there to try and examine it. And protect him.”

“Should I come?”

“Tomorrow, I think. There’s not much time left. I know what to look out for.”

Yoongi nodded and let you go.

===

Having Namjoon lay shirtless and at your mercy was an experience. When you scraped a piece of dry skin off of the red area, he made a groan of discomfort that your dumb brain immediately associated with something else.

You were a professional, though, and you acted like it.

“Gods, you’re lucky,” you whispered when you packed up your tools. Namjoon sat up and ran a hand through his hair. He looked at you, fully focused. “Your soul is still with you, unlike your brothers. They chained you, though. One false move from you, one yank from them at the right time, and your soul’s ripped from your body.”

“I’m sorry,” Namjoon whispered.

“What for?” you sighed.

“Being dishonest. I didn’t want you to divide your attention between me and my brothers. I just wanted them safe.” Namjoon leaned his head against his headboard and stared out the window. You wished he’d lock eyes with you so you could see what he was thinking.

“It’s selfish,” you said, nearly scolded, “It’s selfish because the demons want you. It’s all about you. This kingdom is fucked without you, so you have to survive in order for your people to be okay. Putting your brothers before yourself is selfish.” Namjoon closed his eyes and pursed his lips.

“I know.”

“I get it, though,” you said, voice softer than you intended, more sincere, “I would have probably done the same.” There was a silence for a moment. Namjoon looked at you with a glint in his eye that you couldn’t quite place. “I can’t leave your side for a while now,” you eventually said, “I have a rune that can’t be broken as long as I’m close to you. It’ll keep your soul intact and your body healthy, as long as you stay by my side.”

Namjoon just nodded. You eyed the clock; twenty minutes. There was still time.

You grabbed a paintbrush and charcoal paint from your satchel and drew the same rune you had Namjoon swallow on his wrist, with only a few alterations.

“Smells good,” Namjoon said, voice low. You nodded.

“It’s the rosemary.”

Next, you lit a red candle. Namjoon examined it with curiosity. “It’s pretty,” he said and you smiled. You held out your hand and he gave you his own, palm up.

“This’ll sting.” You dripped the wax onto Namjoon’s skin, whispering the spell and consciously pouring magic into the drops. Namjoon hissed, but you were content. It was sealed in for now.

You finished the spell by drawing the same symbol on your own leg, only mirrored. Namjoon watched with interest, but stayed quiet.

“If you want to be comfortable,” Namjoon said when you were done, “I suggest you tuck yourself in. You have two minutes.”

“In your bed?” you asked in disbelief.

“We don’t have time to ready the couch, and the bed’s big enough.” Namjoon rolled over, facing you, and slapped his pillow, getting comfortable.

You kicked off your boots and hesitantly got into the other side. You turned your back to the king. There wasn’t much time to overthink it, anyway.

===

The next morning was a lot more pleasant than the previous one. You were warm and comfortable and very much not ready to wake up. The smell of rain and grass enveloped your dreamy being. You pressed your face into the pillow, wiggled back into the source of heat and tried to cancel out the ringing.

Not ringing. Your eyes shot open. Not ringing, but screaming.

The wall of warmth behind you groaned in displeasure and you nearly yelped with how fast you stumbled out of bed.

“Wha–?” Namjoon mumbled, eyes wide in attempt to see what’s going on. He looked so cute with his puffy cheeks and sleepy eyes that you damn near cooed at him, and you hated that with every fibre of your being.

“Can you not keep your hands to yourself?” you hissed, trying to push down the feeling to squish.

Namjoon looked around, really blinking the sleep out of his eyes, and a lazy smile spread on his face. He didn’t look cute anymore. He looked smug. And so sexy. And you hated that thought even more.

“You were on my side of the bed, princess,” he said and his morning voice made you want to throw yourself out of the window. He was right though. You’d migrated to him some time during your four hours of sleep. You were glad it was too dark for him to see you blush.

“Whatever, get up, I have princes to attend to.” You threw a pillow at him and he caught it, and fell back into bed.

“Then go, I get a few more minutes.”

“No, you don’t,” you said and threw him with another pillow. The king scowled at you. “I have to attend to the princes, and you have to stay close to me if you want to keep your soul.”

Namjoon sighed and stared at the ceiling for a moment, despair in his eyes, before he sighed again, this time in surrender. “Alright.” He got up and tiptoed to his wardrobe. “You can use the washroom first, if you want.” Namjoon gestured to a door you hadn’t noticed at first. You thanked him, and then went to see if you could salvage your appearance.

===

Yoongi was waiting for you in front of the closed door of the princes’ room. You walked quickly, trying to keep pace with Namjoon and his long legs. Yoongi cocked his head when he caught sight of you, amusement spreading in his eyes.

“Good morning,” Yoongi said.

“Oh, it was,” Namjoon purred and whipped your head around so fast you wouldn’t have been surprised if you heard your neck snap. You sent him a look that would have made a lesser man cower. Namjoon just smiled.

“Having your soul separated from your body is a terrible way to go, your majesty, but there are worse ways,” you gritted out. Yoongi snickered behind you. “We have work to do.”

The princes were in much the same condition as they were the day before. Hoseok smiled at you this morning, though. A tired, half smile, but you could only imagine how bright it could be. You treated his wounds the same as the previous day, and you were delighted to see that, even though there were new blisters, the old ones looked good. The balsam worked.

You treated Jeongguk too. Seokjin was nowhere to be found and Yoongi was struggling with Jimin, who looked very bad. Jeongguk was a lot more awake than the others had been. He spoke a bit too, asked your name and told you his favourite colour. You talked back, just to comfort him, to ground him.

“Jimin fights,” Jeongguk said after a long while of silence while you worked. You focused your attention back on him. The prince had spoken in a rush, like he wanted to get it out as fast as possible.

“Is that why he always looks so bad?” you asked. Jeongguk swallowed, but managed to nod. “Jeongguk, do you know who the demon is?”

The prince nodded again, and then immediately started crying. You tried to talk to him, to get a name out of him, but he became hysterical and then Namjoon took over, knowing how to comfort his brother. “I love him,” Jeongguk yelled, looking you straight in the eye.

You moved back, letting Namjoon take over. It bothered you, though, Jeongguk’s words. It felt like you missed something but you couldn’t place it.

Yoongi switched the drips and then approached you.

“Spill,” he demanded. You shook your head and pulled him away, out of the king’s earshot, and told him everything, starting with your encounter with Jeongguk and ending with your encounter with Namjoon.

“Mother, he’s lucky, holy fuck.”

“I told him that, but we don’t want to push it. Have you checked any traps?” you asked, wanting to change the topic.

“No, just the one on the way here and it was empty. C’mon then, we have work to do.”

“Namjoon,” you approached the king, now running his hands through Jeongguk’s hair, now sleeping. Namjoon looked up and you almost did a double take at his teary eyes. He was crying. The king was crying. You laid a hand on his shoulder and gave him a soft smile. “We have a demon to catch. He’ll be okay.”

Namjoon nodded, wiped his eyes, and followed you out.

You couldn’t push down the giddy feeling of going on a treasure hunt, no matter how many times you told yourself that it was a morbid thought.

===

The traps were empty, but you weren’t surprised. It was a game of luck and patience, like a man trying to catch a fish. You needed to wait.

At noon, Namjoon had a meeting with a few aristocrats that he couldn’t postpone or cancel, so you found yourself in a meeting room with your books scattered around you, not paying attention to any of the people in the room.

You caught a few nasty looks from a few of the old men, a few of them looked at you like prey, like they could eat you. It irritated you to no end.

“Your majesty,” a young man said, eyeing you like he wanted to use you and interrupting Namjoon mid-sentence. The king clenched his jaw, but looked at the man patiently, urging him to speak. “I don’t understand what this... girl is doing here, we’re discussing a sensitive things.”

“This has nothing to do with the topic at hand,” Namjoon stated, clearly irritated. “Her presence is not your concern, she is here for my protection.”

“Well,” the man said, “I believe we should vote on whether or not she gets to stay. Your majesty did say that all of our opinions matter and we should vote on all decisions, and I don’t think that someone from the West should listen in on something this sensitive. And you have guards to protect you.”

Two other men nodded their head and looked at the king expectantly, like they were challenging him. Namjoon smiled. It wasn’t a smile you knew. It was a threat more than anything else.

“Lord Lin,” he started, voice soft and pace slow, “if I let this council vote on all decisions, you would never be able to leave this boardroom. Instead, I let you go home to eat yourself to death. While you spend your nights with some poor woman who wishes she could make her living some other way, I stay in this room making decisions that I don’t want to waste either of our time on.” Namjoon’s smile was gone now. He seemed vicious. The man’s eye twitched, but he looked down anyway. “The decisions I let you vote on are the ones I think are appropriate, and even then your vote isn’t much more than a suggestion. Do you know why, Lord Lin?”

The man looked up and shook his head. There were a few people around the table who looked offended and angry, but the majority of the room hid their smiles behind their hands.

“It’s because I am king, and you are not,” Namjoon said, head high. “So I suggest you don’t interrupt me again.”

The meeting went on after that, except that the young lord kept his poisonous gaze on you.

The rest of the day was less eventful. You dragged Namjoon to your and Yoongi’s room to work on your runes with Yoongi in your vicinity. The king went through documents of his own and eventually Taehyung knocked, asking to join because he felt scared.

You were surprised at the honesty, but you let him inside anyway, thinking that it couldn’t do much harm while the demon was dormant. He curled up on Yoongi’s bed with a book and didn’t say much else.

While Yoongi worked on his staying awake potion, you got further with your runes. Namjoon did give you things the princes loved. Dancing shoes, a ratty, used up paintbrush and a small, metal notebook with refillable pages.

Each of you were too caught up in your own things to really talk to the other.

You were nearly done, having had a major breakthrough in your research, when Namjoon interrupted you. You looked up, surprised at the existence of another human being besides yourself. You blinked yourself back into reality and found Namjoon holding out a hand toward you.

“Come,” he said, “you haven’t eaten all day and it’s dinner time.”

Against your better judgement, you packed everything you needed, including a toothbrush and your sleeping clothes, and followed the king to his room, wishing Yoongi and Taehyung a good night on your way out.

Taehyung responded with a smile, Yoongi didn’t hear you.

The food was amazing, brought to the king’s room by the servants, and you nearly made a noise when you bit into the tiramisu. You didn’t talk much during dinner, but neither did Namjoon. He seemed distracted.

“You’re not very nice to your lords,” you eventually teased after you licked your spoon clean. An embarrassed smile spread on his face.

“I’m not usually an asshole,” he defended, “I treat them pretty good, I think. That’s the most feedback I’ve gotten, at least. But Lin… god I can’t stand him. I miss his mother. She was an awesome woman, would have probably made a better monarch than I did. She died, though, and now I’m stuck with her spoiled little son.”

“He does seem spoiled,” you said absentmindedly.

“You know,” Namjoon said with a soft voice, more serious, “I’m really scared of losing them. It’s lonely without my brothers. Especially when Tae’s been so out of it lately. I miss having honest people around me. I miss talking.”

“You have me.” The words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop it, and you nearly slapped yourself. You were nothing to the king. Not family, not a friend, not a lover. “I mean, until you get them back you can talk to me.” God, that sounded worse.

Namjoon smiled regardless. A genuine, grateful, albeit a little sad smile. “Yeah. I have you.”

You went back to work after eating, and Namjoon indulged in a novel. And then… a final line and you had a design in front of you that you couldn’t find a flaw with.

“I did it,” you said, more to yourself than anything else. Namjoon shot up and stood next to you in no time.

“You did?” he asked, sounding elated. You nodded frantically.

“Yeah, I think so. I can’t find a flaw. What time is it?” You frantically looked for the clock. Half past eleven. It could be enough time, but if something went wrong, you’d be stuck on demon grounds.

“Don’t risk it,” Namjoon said, reading your mind. “We have plenty of time tomorrow, and we’re no use to my brothers dead. Besides, you can have Yoongi look it over, just… just for another pair of eyes.”

“Yeah,” you said. He was right, of course.

“Let’s sleep,” the king suggested and it felt so intimate that you almost did a double take. “We could use an extra hour.”

You used the washroom to change into your sleepwear and nearly collapsed when you came back. Namjoon was shirtless again, wearing loose pants, ready for bed and it almost made you drool.

You hesitated for a moment, debating whether or not to ask for the sofa. But the king didn’t seem bothered and the bed was so much more comfortable and it really had nothing to do with Namjoon being shirtless again and it hand nothing to do with the fact that you wanted to wake up wrapped around him again and –

You got into bed and turned your back to the king.

“Thank you, Y/n,” Namjoon said, voice low, “For everything.”

“I meant it when I said it,” you whispered, nearly hoping he didn’t hear you, “you have me.”

The room went silent for a hot minute and you started to drift away. Somewhere between awake and asleep, you felt Namjoon move closer, just enough to feel the dip in the bed, to feel the residue of his warmth.

If you were more awake, you would have moved away, but it would have been the logical thing to do, and not that what you’d want. So you did what you wanted, and moved close enough that your back touched his chest.

Silence. And then.

“Good night, princess.”

#notyourdamsels #ksmutclub #bangtanhq #magicshopnet #btswriterscollective #thekimlinenet #bangtanarmynet #smutcentralnet #namjoon #rm #namjoon fanfic #rm fanfic #namjoon fanfiction #rm fanfiction #bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bangtan #bangtan boys

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the-delta-42 · 4 years

Text

Ghosts

Based on This, This, and This by @nerdasaurus1200

Ghosts

There was fire everywhere. Ladybug shielded her eyes as another small explosion occurred. Chat hauled Viperion to his feet, Ryuko using water dragon to douse the flames, while Rena and Carapace guided the trapped civilians towards Ladybug.

“The lower floors are completely burnt.” Said Rena, as she guided a mother and her child away from the flames, “It’s a miracle the building is still standing.”

Chat, Viperion and Ryuko rejoined the group.

“We can’t go any higher,” Said Ryuko, panting in exertion, “The fire’s in the stair wells.”

Ladybug threw up a shield protecting the group.

“Everyone, huddle together.” Ordered Ladybug, a small crystal forming in her hand.

Ladybug focused on the shield, before throwing the crystal toward the group, forming a portal the showed the ground level outside the building.

“Everyone through, now!” Said Ladybug, prompting everyone to step through.

Soon, only Ladybug and her team remained, Ladybug heard her shield crack, as well as the warning beep from her earrings, Tikki’s way of telling her that the shield was weakening. Ladybug quickly reenforced her shield, before looking at her team, “Go, I’ll be right behind you.”

“No, we’re not leaving you!” Protested Chat, as the ceiling and floor creaked.

Ladybug felt tears form in her eyes, choking back a sob, she waved her hand and making the portal move across the floor, forcing her team through the portal. As soon as her team was out of danger, Ladybug silently dropped her transformation and clutching the earrings in her prosthetic hand, shielding them from the heat.

Marinette took a deep breath, as the floor beneath her gave out.

“MARINETTE!” Screamed Chat, as the building collapsed. His transformation dropping as he ran towards the flames. Luka quickly tackled Adrien, preventing him from running into the flames.

“Adrien!” Yelled Luka, while Kagami watched in horrified silence as the building collapsed in on itself.

None of the heroes cared that their identities were revealed on live television, Marinette’s had been when she lost her arm, but the team felt they’d lost something, no someone, more valuable.

Adrien grunted at Kagami tore the curtains open.

"We're sick and tired of your self-pity party." Said Kagami, settling a cold glare on Adrien, "You need to get up and get out of the house."

"What's the point?" muttered Adrien, "She's gone, not coming back."

"You weren't the only one affected by Marinette's death." snapped Kagami, “I loved her just as fiercely as you did. Need I remind you what she was to me? She wouldn’t want this; all of us mourning for her and wallowing in grief. She’d want us to keep protecting Paris and celebrate her. And that’s exactly what me and the others have been doing, along with taking care of YOUR children while you sit here on your ass cooped up; becoming more and more like your father.”

Adrien shot up out of the bed in a rage.

“I’m nothing like him!” He yelled.

“Oh, really? Have you spoken to our children at all since Marinette’s death?” Kagami snapped, her chest heaving.

Adrien collapsed against the wall, “I couldn’t protect her.”

Kagami frowned and looked at Adrien, “What?”

“I made a promise to always protect her,” Said Adrien, his voice cracking, “and I failed. If I failed to protect her, how am I supposed to protect our kids?”

Kagami joined Adrien on the floor, wiping her eyes, “I have the same issue, I know Luka is holding himself responsible for not having a save point active.”

“He couldn’t’ve done anything.” Said Adrien, oblivious to Emma sitting by his bedroom door, listening in on the conversation.

Emma looked down at the earring in her hand, the jewels having been returned after they were found with her mothers remains. Emma closed her hand, got to her feet, and walked to her room, where she put the earrings on.

Chat Noir stood on the Eiffel tower, flanked by Ryuko and Viperion, as he watched a young girl with the Ladybug miraculous swing throughout the city, the girl quickly joined them, panting slightly.

“So, how’d I do?” Asked Coccinelle, her blond hair and bright blue eyes looking up at the elder heroes, hope clearly shining in her eyes.

“I think she should stay.” Said Ryuko, making Chat look at her.

Chat glared at Ryuko, clearly disagreeing with the idea.

"Really?" groused Chat, folding his arms.

"With Marinette dead, we needed a new Ladybug wielder." Reasoned Ryuko, "You weren't going to do anything about it."

"She's twelve." Continued Chat, starting to count his point on his finger.

"I'm fifteen." Said the Coccinelle, watching the adults talk, “Sixteen next week.”

"That's not any better." said Chat, sternly.

“Marinette was 13 when she started.” Ryuko pointed out, “It’s time for us to move on. Paris needs Ladybug.”

Chat silently relented, but not approving the decision.

Chat dragged Coccinelle away from the battle and dumped her on a roof.

“Stay here,” Snapped Chat, before turning back to the battle, “at least now you won’t get in the way. Useless brat.”

Chat muttered the last two words under his breath, but Coccinelle still heard him. Chat vaulted off the roof, leaving Coccinelle having a panic attack.

The earrings glowed slightly, before Coccinelle found herself in her mother’s work room. There was a squeaking sound as her mother wheeled around the room in her wheelchair. Emma remembered the chair, her mother had broken her leg a couple of years ago and had to use the chair to move around, since she complained crutched impeded her work.

“Mum?” Whispered Coccinelle, her transformation dropping.

Marinette jumped and placed a hand over her heart, “Emma!” Marinette scolded playfully, “Don’t sneak up on me like that, I could’ve yoyoed you.”

Emma felt a smile breakout on her face, while tears started to stream from her eyes. Emma got half-way to her mother, before everything crashed down on her again.

“I can't do this!" Cried Emma, the sixteen-year-old collapsing to her knees, "I'm a failure."

Marinette sighed and guided her wheelchair over to her daughter.

"Emma, look at me," Said Marinette, "I know what it's like, being Ladybug. I was younger than you are now, when I was given my first command and you know what happened?"

"What?" sniffled Emma.

"I failed," Said Marinette, "I failed so many times and even now I lie awake, knowing history has its eyes on me. On all of us."

“B-But...you were Ladybug. You never failed.” Emma pointed out.

“Even the greatest heroes fail and lose their way Emma.” Marinette informed, “What matters is that we get back up again.”

Emma gave Marinette a watery smile, before she found herself back on the roof. The teenager looked at herself, before wiping her eyes and nose on her sleeve and getting to her feet.

“Tikki,” Said Emma, her voice hard and her face set, “Spots On.”

Chat dodged another blow from the Akuma, silently cursing how he handed the situation with Coccinelle, the girl almost getting herself killed. She was Emma’s age, and he didn’t want to track down the girl’s parents to tell them he’d failed in protecting their daughter.

Chat was so distracted, he didn’t notice the Akuma drawing her fist back until it was almost too later. Chat braced himself for the blow. But the blow never came, the Akuma’s wrist was caught in a yoyo, with Coccinelle hold the wire taught and looking down at Chat and the Akuma.

“Quick, break her object!” Yelled Coccinelle, struggling against the Akuma’s strength.

Chat quickly grabbed the belt buckle and cataclysmed it. A purple butterfly flew out and Coccinelle quickly grabbed in such a fashion thar remined him of Marinette. Chat’s mind screeched to a halt, before narrowing his eyes as Coccinelle release the cure, fixing all the damage done during the attack.

Chat quickly regained his senses and grabbed her upper arm.

“We need to talk,” Said Chat, guiding her away from the press, “Emma.”

Coccinelle froze, before looking up at her father.

“Hehe,” Emma giggled nervously, “hi dad?”

Chat groaned, before vaulting them both to the roof, away from prying eyes.

“What were you thinking?” Demanded Chat, looking down at Coccinelle, “You could’ve been killed!”

“I-I know, but Mama said it before, you need the Ladybug Miraculous to fix the damage done in the attacks.” Said Emma, nervously holding onto her other arm by the elbow.

Adrien ran a hand over his face and groaned, before looking down at Emma, “We’ll discuss this further when we get home… but, I don’t see why you can’t continue, just, just promise me you’ll be careful.”

Emma grinned, “I will, Dad.”

Chat pulled Coccinelle into a hug, before looking down at her, “I’ll race you back home.”

Chat was gone before Coccinelle could react, “Dad! That’s cheating!”

Marinette gazed fondly at Adrien as he slept, her hand brushing over his dark brown hair.

“I see he’s developed his father’s hair.” Said Her Adrien, blond haired and green eyed.

“But, he has his mother’s eyes.” Said Marinette, fondly.

Both looked to the door when it suddenly opened, Emma and Marcus slowly trudged into the room, each carrying a Toddler.

“Why can’t Marinette and Kagami be like Adrien?” Moaned Marcus, as he and Emma put the toddlers they were carrying into their beds.

“And what, make life oh so easier?” Snarked Emma, before she let out a chuckle, “I have the sinking feeling that Plagg’s behind this.”

“Plagg is a good Kwami,” Defended Marcus, folding his arms, “Sure, he hasn’t bonded with me like he did your Dad, but he wouldn’t interfere with parents raising their children.”

“He did with me.” Muttered Emma, before taking Marcus’s hand and leading him out of the room, giving him a coy look, “Although, I do believe we agreed on four children?”

Marcus grinned, before scooping Emma off her feet as soon as they were out of the children’s room. Adrien and Marinette looked down at their grandchildren.

“You know, I’ll always regret never meeting them properly.” Said Marinette, before she turned to face Adrien, “We should get going, Alya said she’s going to make something.”

“She does know that we don’t need to eat anything, right?” asked Adrien, as he and Marinette vanished into the moonlight.

After the two were gone, Plagg and Tikki emerged from their hiding places.

“See you round, kid.” Said Plagg, a sad smile on his small face.

Tikki didn’t say anything, too happy that at least one of her bugs has gotten their happy ending.

#miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #luka couffaine #kagami tsurugi #alya cesaire #nino lahiffe #emma agreste #plagg #Tikki #delta writes #rewrite history #character death #warning: character death #MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH #TW: character death

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silverlightqueen · 4 years

Text

Mischief Managed: Slytherin Dungeons

Across the United Kingdom, millions of children attend school every day, studying Maths, English and Science, but deep in the Scottish Highlands, a lucky thousand schoolkids get to study Potions, Charms and Defence Against the Dark Arts. Whilst the rest of us learn names like Shakespeare, Avogadro and Fibonacci, they learn names like Goshawk, Bagshot and Scamander. Whilst we learn how to do algebra, how to analyse poems and how photosynthesis works, they learn how correctly use a Conjuring Spell, how to brew a Draught of Living Death and how to fly a Nimbus 2000. And naturally, school children will always find a way to misbehave, to get up to no good, to make mischief, but when you add spells, potions and magic into the mix? Let’s just say… they get up to more than just mischief. Welcome to Hogwarts.

hogwarts!au, Min Yoongi x reader - fluff, comedy

Rating: PG (profanity)

Word Count: 1.9k+

a/n: please check the masterlist before you read!! here is the third instalment of my hogwarts drabble series called Mischief Managed! I really hope y’all enjoy this, lmk what you think, I thrive off praise lmao x

silverlightqueen masterlist

Quietus (Quietening Charm)

Type: Charm

Pronunciation: KWIY-uh-tus

Description: Makes a target sound quieter. It is the countercharm to the Amplifying Charm, Sonorus

Etymology: Latin quietus, "calm" or "quiet"

Nox (Wand-Extinguishing Charm)

Type: Charm

Pronunciation: NOCKSS

Description: Extinguishes wandlight. It the countercharm for the Wand-Lighting Charm, Lumos

Etymology: Latin nox, meaning "night"

‘Merlin’s beard,’ I mutter when there’s a loud rumble of thunder, the coffee table before me shaking, and I shiver, bringing my knees up to my chest. I know it’s irrational, but storms are terrifying to me – I always fear they’re going to blow the roof right off, and take me along with it. Being down in the Slytherin dungeons isn’t as bad as, say, Gryffindor tower (losers) because at least we’re underground, and less exposed to the storm. But being in the dungeons, we’re closer to the Black Lake, and the Black Lake during a storm is even scarier than the storm itself.

The rest of the school tends to call it the Great Lake, but we Slytherins know that ‘Great’ is not enough to describe the lake, nor its inhabitants. One of the walls of the common room is made of an enchanted and reinforced glass, letting us see right into the lake, and all that live down there. It’s not a rare occurrence to see Grindylows or Selkies swimming past – some of them even stop to have a look in every now and then, and they’ve unsuccessfully tried break through the glass more than a few times. We even had the Giant Squid latch itself to the window for nearly a week. I saw Professor Snape down in the dungeons more than I ever had before during those few days, attempting to get the squid off – he even tried banging on the glass a few times when he didn’t think anyone was there.

But now? There are no creatures in view – they’re likely hiding at the bottom of the lake, out of harm’s way. Instead, the lake crashes against the glass in strong and brutal waves, the loud sloshing of the water and its collisions with the window echoing around the common room. There is no sign of the moon or stars tonight, the only light coming from the bright bolts of lightning that strike the water. The clouds are heavy and thick, and the sky is completely dark, the water raging on beneath it, rising in great angry mountains and crashing together unforgivingly. Watching the lake, I hug myself tighter as though if I let go, I’ll be dragged out amongst the waves, beneath the storm.

There’s a bright flash of lighting, quickly followed by a loud clap of thunder, the sound resonating within me, and I jump at the noise, unable to stop the gasp that slips out from between my lips. ‘Quietus,’ I hear a groggy voice let out behind me, and I jump again, turning to see Yoongi stood at the bottom of the staircase that leads up to the boys’ dorms, wand in hand. After his spell, the sound of the storm and the lake is considerably quieter, and I feel my fear dissipating, my body losing some of its tension as I loosen my grip on my legs.

‘y/n. What are you doing up?’ he yawns, bare feet padding against the cold floor as he heads over to me, arms stretched out above his head. ‘I… I’m a little scared of storms,’ I admit as he drops his wand onto the coffee table and sits down beside me, slouching back against the sofa with a chuckle. ‘I never knew that. That’s cute,’ he says with a grin, and I roll my eyes, completely distracted from the (much quieter) storm now. ‘Why are you up?’ I ask, and he glances at me amusedly before rolling his neck. The aura of sleep still surrounds him, his black locks messy and soft, his eyes blinking and unfocused, his skin radiating warmth that I can feel even from a few inches away. ‘The thunder was loud, so I thought I’d just come and do a quietening charm, and then I ran into you,’ he grins, voice husky and deep, and I nod, a little embarrassed I didn’t think of performing a quietening charm – I guess my fear made me lose my ability to think rationally.

‘If you’re scared of the storm, why would you come sit in the room where it’s loudest? And where you can actually see it?’ he asks amusedly, and I feel even more embarrassed now. ‘Sitting in my room and listening to it is scarier to me because I can’t see it. I can’t prepare myself for thunder because I can’t see the lightning, and I can’t prepare myself for the waves hitting the wall because I can’t see it coming. When I’m here, it’s like I can… brace myself?’ I say, trying to explain as best as I can, and Yoongi nods, his understanding behaviour making me feel… like I’m not stupid for being scared of storms.

‘Have you had any sleep?’ he asks as he rubs his eyes, and I shake my head. At the mention of sleep, I can feel the tiredness wash over me, and I try my best to stifle a yawn, Yoongi side-eyeing me. ‘Go to bed,’ he says, and I let out a gentle laugh, shaking my head. ‘I can’t – I won’t be able to sleep knowing what’s going on out there,’ I say, motioning to the window, and Yoongi raises an eyebrow. ‘We have Potions with Snape in around… five hours, and the storm doesn’t look like it’ll end any time soon. You really wanna tackle Potions with no sleep?’ he asks, and the prospect makes me want to cry, but I shrug. ‘I’ll be fine. I actually enjoy Potions, and I’m Snape’s favourite anyway – he won’t say anything if I have a little nap,’ I joke, and he lets out a deep chuckle.

‘Well, at least get a bit more comfy then. You’re putting me on edge sitting like that,’ he says, and I laugh as I take my arms from around my legs, relaxing my posture to sit back against the sofa with my legs curled up beside me. Yoongi adjusts his position a little too, getting more comfortable, and I turn to look at him confusedly. ‘Aren’t you gonna go back to bed?’ I ask, and he shakes his head, crossing his arms over his chest as he rests his head back on the sofa, grinning. ‘What kind of best friend would I be if I left you down here alone with the big bad storm?’ he teases, and I roll my eyes, holding my middle finger up at him as my heart warms.

‘Aren’t you cold in those skimpy pyjamas?’ he asks, motioning to my t-shirt, shorts and fluffy socks (in Slytherin colours, of course), my legs and arms completely exposed. The fire is raging strong in the fireplace, but it doesn’t radiate enough heat to keep me fully warm, and I nod, Yoongi rolling his eyes as he reaches for his wand. ‘Accio blanket,’ he murmurs, dropping his wand back onto the table again, just as a blanket (presumably from Yoongi’s room) flies through the doorway and lands on my lap. ‘Thanks,’ I say as I pull it around myself, and it’s still warm from when Yoongi must have had it in bed a few minutes ago.

‘You should’ve got one for yourself too. Aren’t you cold?’ I ask, looking him up and down. He’s dressed in a pair of loose pyjama bottoms and a thin t-shirt in Slytherin colours, arms and feet bare. ‘Move over this way, we can share,’ he says, and I shuffle closer towards him, moving the blanket so that it covers both of us. Yoongi reaches for his wand, whispering ‘Nox’, and the light above us dims completely, leaving us in the warm glow cast by the fire. We sit in a comfortable silence, both of us yawning, our bodies losing all tension as we lean on the sofa and each other, eyes drooping with tiredness.

But the position I’m sat in is uncomfortable – I struggle to fall asleep in my own bed at the best of times, so sat upright against a sofa designed for good back support (I don’t really know why – we’re at secondary school, not a care home) with my feet tucked beneath me, I’m definitely not going to fall asleep any time soon. ‘For the love of Merlin, can you stop fucking fidgeting?’ Yoongi murmurs, eyes closed, and I let out a soft laugh. ‘I’m uncomfortable,’ I reply, and he lets out a sigh. ‘For fuck’s sake, you’re such a pain in the arse, you know?’ he breathes out as he adjusts his position, bringing his legs up and lying down, his head resting on the arm of the sofa. I’m a little confused as to how this is helping me, and he lets out another sigh. ‘Lie down, stupid,’ he murmurs, and I let out a little ‘oh’ of realisation, slowly moving to lie down in the gap between Yoongi’s body and the back of the sofa.

Our legs are outstretched together and my head rests just beside his shoulder, my arms curled up at my chest, and I can feel myself beginning to drop off again, sat in this comfortable position. But after a few minutes, my arms become stiff, and I don’t want to move them and bother Yoongi again, especially considering he could be asleep in his comfy bed right now, with his own personal space. ‘y/n, you can move if you need to. I’m not going to murder you,’ he whispers amusedly, and I feel embarrassed again at him being able to sense my thoughts. ‘It’s my arms, but I haven’t got anywhere to put them,’ I whisper back, and he lets out another sigh. ‘I swear to God. It’s always something with you,’ he mutters half-heartedly, and I can’t help but laugh. He grabs one of my arms and pulls it across his own body, my limb now fully stretched out, and I feel much more comfortable already, moving my other arm behind me. ‘Thanks, Yoongi,’ I whisper after a few moments, already dozing off, and through my slumber, I hear his deep soothing voice murmur back, ‘You’re welcome, y/n.’

I awake after a couple hours of restful sleep, blinking in the light from the already lightening sky, and see that the storm has already calmed – it’s still raining, but the lake isn’t raging anymore, and I can’t hear any thunder either. I check my watch quickly, the time reading 5.28, which gives me two hours before I have to get up. I drop my arm back across Yoongi’s torso, closing my eyes again, before I realise that my head is on his chest, and my leg is also outstretched across his, as well as his arm being curved around me. And it’s nice – Yoongi would rather fight a troll than let me hug him, so I’m enjoying this rare moment of physical intimacy with him. I look up at his face, his features softened by slumber and his lips parted with a slight pout, and my heart warms at how cute he is. I get comfortable again, letting myself drift back to sleep with a smile on my face and my head on his chest.

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chipper9906 · 4 years

Text

The Best Laid Plans - Chapter 9: Where It Began

LINK TO CHAPTER 1

Pairings: Kylo Ren/Rey, Ben Solo/Rey

Rating: General Audiences

Word Count: 7,480

Status: Multi Chapter Fic - In Progress

Chapter Preview:

Rey nodded, letting her eyes flutter shut and taking a deep breath in to prepare herself. She exhaled slowly, feeling everything that surrounded her. The searing wind of Jakku batting against the baked metal of her AT-AT, the sound of hairless rats scurrying in underground tunnels miles and miles away, the bustling activity of the rare settlements scattered around the desert. The energy of it all existed around her, within her, was her.

And there was Kylo. Somehow nothing like her, and yet entwined with her. He was like a pulsating, glowing beacon within her vision, a mass of brilliant white with veins of jet black sneaking through, clinging to him like vines, digging in hard and refusing to relinquish their grip. It was reaching out to her, twirling around her, letting itself brush along her but never quite being able to hold on. Looking at him now, she knew him like she knew herself. There was nothing he could hide from her, and the fact that he was so willingly baring himself to her like this was a show of trust she couldn’t even begin to grasp.

Link To Fic

Click Below To Keep Reading

Chapter 9: Where It Began

Rey has encountered many experiences in her short life. Some experiences that have been experienced by many others, some only a rare few get the privilege to be a part of. Sure, there are countless other scavengers out there - not just on Jakku - who performed the same tasks every day as she did. And she’s sure there are plenty of others that have been abandoned by their parents and left to fight for their own survival. Not quite as many people have had a resistance droid carrying a map to the Luke Skywalker roll into their lives. And not everyone has been led to an ex-stormtrooper, who would then help them to escape from a pursuing group of stormtroopers onboard the most famous ship in the Galaxy (that, admittedly, she had once mistaken for garbage.) Not so many people have had the privilege to study under Luke Skywalker, to hold and wield a saber – not just any saber, but the saber that had once belonged to Anakin Skywalker, and then passed onto his son, Luke Skywalker.

She’s lived through every one of them, and she’s here now to tell the tale, isn’t she? Well, the point she was trying to make is that those experiences help her to be prepared. Ready to tackle anything that comes away.

Except, she had never planned for Kylo Ren, heavily inebriated on brandy that she had coaxed him into drinking, to say what he had just said to her. Above all else, she hadn’t been expecting to find herself wanting him to act on his words. He hadn’t moved – not yet. His lips were tantalizingly close to her own, so close that she only needed to tilt her head up a few millimeters and he would get to find out the answer to his question. His hazy brown eyes repeatedly flickered down to her waiting lips, struggling to focus on her eyes when they flicked back up.

It feels more like instinct than her own willpower that she finds herself leaning into him. His lips barely brush against hers, another wave of brandy scented breath filling her senses when it hits her. She stops, how exactly she isn’t too sure. She has a hand on his chest, gently nudging him back as she pulls her face away from his, shaking her head as she does so. She can just about see the cloudy confusion behind the drunken haze in his eyes – worst of all, she can see the clear sheen of hurt as she pushes him away.

“We shouldn’t…” Rey tells him quietly, dropping her hand away from the warmth of his body. “You don’t want this. Not really. You’ve had too much to drink, you… you’re not acting like, well, you. It would be wrong of me – of us – when we’re like this, I… You would regret it so much once you sober up.”

Kylo blinks slowly at her in his confusion, taking the time to process the words in his intoxicated mind. “What?”

Rey sighed heavily, scooting further back on her bed until her back hit the wall. The pain swelling in Kylo’s chest grew heavier the further she pushed herself away from him. “This is for the best. Trust me. You’d hate me otherwise.”

“I’d never-,” Kylo begun, but stopped when Rey shook her head at him.

“You can’t promise that. Not with us.” Rey stated firmly. “And this isn’t a decision you can make in your current state. Chances are you won’t even remember this tomorrow…”

“Okay.” Was all Kylo could say in response to that because it seemed like this was an argument he just couldn’t win. Rejection was never fun, but he wasn’t going to push Rey. Not with this. No matter how much the ache in his chest worsened with her rejection.

“I’m sorry…” Rey had practically folded in on herself, tucking her knees to her chest and peering over at Kylo worriedly. “We just can’t do this. Not while you’re drunk.”

“No, no, don’t be sorry. It’s fine, I’m fine, I just-,” Kylo stumbled to his feet, nearly knocking over a misshapen light fixture next to him as he stood. “I, uh… I think I should go. To my ship, I’ll just…”

This was exactly what Rey was worried was going to happen. Something that fractured the fragile relationship blooming between them that would only serve to push them apart instead of bringing them closer together. She had thought maybe she could have prevented it, but it appears she’s only done the opposite. She wants to tell him no, that he doesn’t have to leave, he’s always welcome in her home - but Kylo is staggering out of the door to her home before the words can even have a chance to form in her head, and she’s left with her mouth open and a hand outstretched towards his retreating form.

Rey let her head fall into her palms with a groan. She dug her fingers into the corners of her eyes, willing for the waves of dizziness to pass quickly. She can barely think when her head is swimming like this. Rey lets herself slide down the wall until she hits the somewhat scratchy but relatively soft blankets of her bed, wincing at the bulky object lodging itself into her side. She bends her arm awkwardly to reach at her back, yanking out the bottle she had discarded to the bed during their conversation. She gives a small grunt as she reaches to place the mostly empty bottle on what can barely count as a bedside table before collapsing back into the bed and rubbing a hand over the pressure she can feel building in her skull. This was the non-fun part of drinking, she supposed. Nausea and regrets.

Lots and lots of regrets…

* * *

Rey had never been in such pain in her life.

If this is the price she has to pay to get drunk, she’s never getting drunk again. That’s something that’s probably said by every sentient creature that’s ever drank before, but she stands by her words.

There must be a microscopic creature swinging a hammer around with reckless abandon inside her skull, because that’s the only scenario that fits the agonizing pain going on inside her head. The interior of her home had never seemed so bright, the thin streams of sunlight piercing through holes in her rusting ceiling blinding her even through closed eyelids, adding to the sharp pain that was set behind her eyes. Her mouth was dry – unbearably dry, like someone had replaced it with a piece of sandpaper. Good thing she still has some water left in the reserve…. This is too much suffering for the supposed fun of last night.

Ah. Last night… Oh, she remembers that. She would probably have had to drink to the point of alcohol poisoning to have forgotten that. Perhaps Kylo has forgotten it? She isn’t sure if she wants for him to have forgotten… On one hand, it would make this whole mess easier. He’d probably be a bit confused about the whole situation, though. In fact, she isn’t entirely sure where he went. She had just about picked out the words ‘my ship’ in his jumbled mess of words as he hurriedly left last night, but that could easily mean he got on his ship and took off. Which, if he did, she’s going to have to scold him harshly for the next time the Force connects them because you absolutely should not under any circumstances pilot a complicated spare faring piece of machinery whilst drunk.

Rey forces her eyes open, immediately wincing at the light that assaulted her senses. She pushed herself out of bed, peering at the world through squinted eyes whilst groaning quietly at the ache that ran through her muscles. She only stumbled a few times on her way to the water reserve, quickly pouring herself a canteen of thankfully somewhat cooled water.

It was the most refreshing drink her life, the cool liquid seemingly lessening the ache in her head with every swallow. She felt more alive now, at least. And not like she was right on deaths doorstep. She gave a weak glare in the offending bottle’s direction, wishing to never see or taste that bitter amber liquid ever again. She passes by it, ambling over to her workshop bench and then she stops there, staring down at its surface as she places the canteen of water down.

Her saber stares back at her, its sleek dark metal standing out atop the polished silver metal of her worktop. She can still barely believe it, even now. She was sure Kylo and herself would have got to practice sparring with it today, but that seems unlikely now. She doesn’t know when she’ll get to see him again… She sighs softly, scooping up the saber from the workbench. Rey rolls it around across her palm for a moment, testing the weight and overall feel of it. That’s when she catches sight of a shadow at the doorway from the corner of her eye that hadn’t been there before.

Her finger was moments away from spinning the ignition wheel to her saber, nearly dropping it at the sight of Kylo Ren stood at her doorway. She could see his chest heaving under his many layers of clothing, breathing heavily as if he had ran the whole way here; which seemed likely, seeing the sheen of sweat plastered to his forehead.

He didn’t look panicked, though. At least, she couldn’t sense that from him. So, it was unlikely he was running from something, or that they were in any immediate danger.

“Ben?” Rey asked, turning briefly to place her saber back on the workbench before turning back to him. “I thought you had left?”

Kylo had managed to get his breathing somewhat back under control. His fingers fidgeted by his side, swallowing harshly before he spoke.

“I’m not drunk anymore.”

‘What is he talking about?’ Is the brief thought that passes through Rey’s mind. It’s brief due to the fact that her mind goes into overload as Kylo Ren storms towards her, encases the sides of her face in his giant hands, and crashes his lips into hers.

She let out a surprised squeak against his lips as Kylo pushes her back, feeling the hard edge of the workbench digging into her lower back as she collides with it. This was new, something she definitely hasn’t experienced before, but it doesn’t matter in the slightest. It seemed deep-seated in her mind, something primitive that took over her body. She drops her saber on the workbench behind her, reaching up Kylo’s back and tangling her fingers in his black locks. She leans into him, her other hand trailing up his front and resting on the solid muscle of his chest, feeling the heat that bled through his shirt.

Kylo’s hands had slipped down, one arm curled around her hips and the other resting between her shoulder blades, a constant pressure that tugged her towards him. Rey parted her lips, breaking away from him to take a breath before Kylo quickly surged forward and reclaimed them with his own. A small whine slips out of her, barely audible after being swallowed by Kylo’s lips. She feels the gentle scrape of his teeth dragging down her bottom lip, accompanied by a shiver sliding down her spine. Her fingers involuntarily clench and tug at his hair, eliciting an unexpecting throaty growl from Kylo that nearly had her legs give out from underneath her.

It wasn’t until Kylo had pulled away from her that she felt like her mind had come back together and her body was back in her control. Her lips felt swollen and warm, and probably looked about the same as Kylo’s did: cherry red and plump with a sheen of moisture. The drunken haze was undeniably gone from his eyes, but had been replaced by a much different one; dark pupils expanded until his iris was no more than a thin rich brown circle that surrounded the inky blackness, darting across her face as he waits for her reaction.

“Wha… What just happened?”

Maybe not the most intelligent words to have come out of her mouth, and probably in the worst of situations, but there they were.

“I kissed you.” Kylo spoke slowly, almost framing the straightforward statement as a question. He looked genuinely concerned for her mental wellbeing, so that was nice at least.

“…Why?”

His concerned look only deepened. “Because I wanted to? And maybe it’s foolish of me to assume, but I presumed you kissed me back because you wanted to?”

She did. Oh no, she did, didn’t she? It hadn’t even crossed her mind whether she wanted to, let alone if she even should.

“I… Yeah, I guess I did.”

She could see the relief clear as day on his face at her words, felt the tension of his muscles drain away beneath her fingertips that were still resting along the back of his neck.

“Good, because then I can do this again.” Kylo had leaned forward again before she could even blink, their lips slotting together perfectly like they were built to be. Rey had to fight against every fiber of her being not to just melt right back into him, into the deliriously addicting silky heat of his mouth, because it would only lead to trouble if all Kylo needed to do to shut down her mental capabilities was kiss her.

“Wait-,” She barely managed to get out in the brief second their lips parted, nearly forgetting what the rest of her sentence was supposed to be when Kylo runs his tongue across her bottom lip. “Ben, wait.”

Kylo does pull away at that, looking about as unhappy about having to stop as she was, even though she was the one who stopped it. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, I just… Is this the best idea? Not even taking into account what I want, or what you want, but thinking about how messy this could get.”

“Messy?” Kylo repeated her words in a question. “Why would it get messy?”

“Maybe because I’m a Jedi in training, and you’re the supreme leader of The First Order? The time we’ve spent together so far, it’s… well, I suppose it’s what’s led to this moment, hasn’t it? But it can’t last forever. I’m going to have to return to my duties someday, as will you. This war will continue, Ben. And we both pledge our allegiances to different sides. Battles will be fought. We’ll have to join those battles. How will we both be able to step onto the battlefield, both as enemies and as… as…”

“Lovers?”

That word didn’t sound adapt enough, but it managed to get a fierce red blush to creep up her neck and spread across her face, so she supposed it was good enough. “Yes. This is going to complicate things, in ways that will impact more lives than just our own.”

“We’ll find a way.” Kylo said firmly, raising his hands to wrap them around her arms and give them a light squeeze. “This is my specialty - working with I’ve got to make the plan work.”

“The plan?”

“This one, right here.” Kylo replied. “I’m not willing to walk away from this, Rey. All my life, I’ve done what others have wanted me to do. For once, I’m deciding what I want. And you’re it, Rey. Question is – do you want the same?”

“Ben…” Rey whispered his name under her breath. “It’s more complicated than that. Even with where we are now. If I was forced to fight you in battle… but… but I couldn’t just abandon the resistance either.”

“I know. Trust me, I know. What happened the other day with my troopers, that isn’t something I can repeat. It’s an unnecessary loss to the First Order-,”

“And a loss of life.” Rey stressed. Kylo so desperately wanted to point out that he knew that, that he couldn’t stop thinking about that, but he just… couldn’t. Couldn’t let himself admit that to her. “And isn’t that proving my point? What are we going to do if we get caught again? Either by your people, or by mine? It doesn’t matter how careful we are, you can never completely rule out that happening.” Rey continued.

“No, we can’t.” Kylo agreed. “But why would they have anything to suspect, if all they see is you and I in the midst of battle?”

Rey frowned up at him. Didn’t he hear a word she had said earlier? “Ben, I already said, I can’t fight you-,”

“And I can’t fight you.” Kylo quickly continued. “People can be easily fooled, though. I’m quite talented in manipulating people, and you might not want to admit it, but so are you. A few flashy tricks with the help of a Force, a blur of color from our sabers… They’ll be none the wiser.”

“You want us to… fake fight?”

“It’s the only solution.” Kylo stressed. “We can both continue our lives as we were but keep alive this new fire that seems to have sparked between us. I want to see where this takes us, Rey. I want to keep this little piece of happiness to ourselves.”

Rey stared up into those auburn eyes that were locked onto hers with such intensity that he must have committed hers to memory by this point. There was so much desperation hidden within them, all of him laid bare for her to witness, ready to either be elated by her answer, or be completely torn down.

“Okay.” Rey finally answered after a few too many seconds of unbearable silence for Kylo.

“Okay?” Kylo dared to ask.

“Okay.” Rey repeated, a small smile curling at the corner of her lips. “We’ll give the plan a shot. We’ll try and make it work.”

Kylo responded by crushing her into her chest, squeezing one arm around her entire body and delicately holding the back of her head with his other hand. Rey chuckled softly into his shirt, dropping her arms down to reciprocate the gesture and squeeze Kylo tighter. His heart was beating a steady rhythm under her ear, if not a bit faster than usual, and Rey let herself enjoy this brief moment of being held by him without questioning the somewhat flimsy structure to this plan.

They could make it work… right?

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

Rey jumped back from Kylo at the shrilling noise, looking around for the source. Her eyes drifted down to the Holocron attached snugly to her wrist, her heart jumping at the sight of the General’s name along its surface.

Kriff, how long had it been since her last check-up with the resistance? If she doesn’t answer this now, they’re going to worry. Questions will be asked. They may even try and track her down. But this isn’t exactly a call she can make with the Supreme Leader of the First Order in view.

“Quick-!” Rey hisses at him, shoving Kylo out of the way, much to his immense confusion. Rey kept shoving him until he reached a particularly shadowy corner of the AT-AT that would hopefully keep him concealed from his mother’s sharp sight. “If she sees you, this plan will have failed before it’s even started!”

“If who sees me?” Kylo tried to ask, but received a sharp hush from Rey in response. He does as he’s asked anyway, pushing himself back into the corner as far as he can go. Rey seemed to have a legitimate reason for her worry, so it seemed like this was going to be a ‘do as you’re told and ask questions later’ kind of scenario. He got the feeling it was going to be like that a lot in their relationship…

Rey practically fell into the wobbly wooden stool by her workbench, the chair nearly toppling over in her haste to get seated. She gave a quick glance to Kylo in the corner to her left side, who could only shrug his shoulders at her in response. This could only end poorly…

Rey swiped across the Holocron to accept the call, swallowing nervously to compose herself as General Organa popped into view. Thankfully, it appeared that the General was in her private room, rather than the officer's room, where sensitive information may have been on display. As far as Leia knows, Rey is still isolated on the hardest to reach place in the Galaxy… she would have no reason to have to hide any information.

“Rey…” The General said her name with such warmth that it was impossible for Rey not to smile, even through the nerves churning up her stomach. “It’s good to see you.”

“Good to see you too, General.” Rey replied, letting her eyes wander over to Kylo. Kylo had turned as stiff as a board, that look of indifference he was so efficient at throwing up back on his face. In a blink, he had turned from a normal, emotional person to Kylo Ren. Seeing him like this, she couldn’t help but worry what information Kylo may try to take from this.

“Something wrong, Rey?” The Generals inquisitive voice brought Rey’s attention back to the Holocron. “You seem distracted.”

“Uh, no, I’m fine. I, um… I thought I heard something moving outside, but it’s nothing.” Rey rushed out her response, coming up with an excuse on the fly. “Everything okay back at base?”

“As well as can be.” Leia answered with a somewhat strained smile. “The First Order’s still hot on our heels. We may have to move our base of operations soon, try and throw them off our trail…”

“Finn mentioned that last time.” Rey noted, giving another quick glance over to Kylo, who was showing no reaction to this conversation. “He also said you had gained some new members? How are they settling in?”

“As well as can be, given the circumstances. They’ve been under the First Order’s thumb for so long, nothing more than average citizens… actively fighting against their oppressors instead of simply opposing them in secret is quite a jump in lifestyles.”

“And what of the stormtroopers you took in? Are they still under watch?”

“Not anymore.” Leia answered, and Rey could actually spot a hope-filled smile on the Generals face. “We sent them out on a covert mission recently. Reconnaissance. The more information we can gather from under the First Order’s nose, the better.”

“You’ve sent them back? Isn’t that a bit risky?”

“It won’t be for long.” The General assured her. “And they have full communication with us at all times. This mission wasn’t ordered, it was offered – volunteers only. Each and every one of them stepped up for it. And since we’ve lost our usual source of information-,”

“Wait, what?” Rey interrupted the General, grabbing the edge of the workbench and pulling herself closer. “Are you talking about the spy?”

The words had slipped out of her mouth before she had even had a chance to think them through properly. How could she have done that? How could she have mentioned of the First Order Spy, the one big advantage the resistance had over the First Order, when the supreme leader was stood in the same room?

“They ceased contact with us last week. They usually check in every few days, supply us with some tidbits of information, but now they’ve gone radio silent.” Leia continued, not picking up on Rey’s internal freak-out.

It wasn’t like Rey could just change the subject, at least not without arising Leia’s suspicions. Besides, it was too late to do much more damage than she already had. Kylo now knew there was a spy amongst his ranks. “Do you think something happened to them? Someone in the First Order that could have found out about them?” Rey asked.

“It’s a possibility… to tell you the truth, we simply don’t know. We’re hoping they’ll get back to us in the coming days, but we can't rely on them and their information for everything. We’ll have to find our own ways, which is what we’re doing.”

“Do we have any idea who the spy is?”

“No.” Leia answered. “From the information they’ve given us, it’s either someone high up in their rankings or someone who has a lot of reach. They never even send us the messages themselves – it’s passed along to a middle man who gets the information to us.”

“Maybe there’s a delay with the middle man?” Rey suggested. “Or maybe they’re struggling to find another middle man to pass the information along?”

“Could be, Rey. We can only wait and see.” There was a momentary gap in their conversation, one where Rey suddenly felt like she was under the General’s scrutinizing gaze. “How are you, Rey?”

“I’m… I’m good.”

“That’s it? Just ‘good?’ It can’t be easy being all alone out there.”

Oh, if only she knew…

“It’s not too bad.” Rey answered with a weak smile. “I mean, of course I’m missing you all terribly… as well as missing getting to watch Finn and Poe bumble awkwardly around each other.”

That managed to get a laugh out of the General. “They are rather oblivious, aren’t they? I can’t help but wonder when those two will figure it all out…”

“I’m sure they will one day. Hopefully when the Galaxy is in a more… stable state.”

“Which it will be.” Leia promised. “But… you’re sure you’re alright, Rey? Nothing you need to talk to me about?”

Rey’s heart jumped in her chest, involuntarily looking back over to Kylo once more. Kylo’s face was set in stone, his vision fixed on the Holocron of his mother with a look that made Rey’s chest constrict with fear.

“Nothing that I can think of, General.” Rey answered, hoping Leia couldn’t sense the slight catch to her voice as she spoke.

“Nothing at all?” The General continued to inquire, much to Rey’s annoyance. “Not even the reason why you’ve decided to leave Ahch-To?”

Dammit. Dammit, Dammit, Dammit. It was stupid to assume the General wouldn’t have found out… probably just one look at her surroundings and she would be able to tell something was different… Kylo had finally reacted to their conversation, his eyes darting over to Rey with his eyebrows raised, mouthing the name ‘Ahch-To’ to himself, like he was devoting the same to memory. She had done exactly what she set out not to do – to give away the location of a precious Jedi island to the one man who sought to wipe out anything related to the Jedi.

And yet, that stubborn piece of hope still remained firmly planted in Rey’s chest that it didn’t matter. Because Kylo was changing, wasn’t he? The sudden shift in their relationship had proven that. He knew doing anything to that island would hurt her, and Kylo would never do that to her… right?

“I was actually kind of hoping to keep it a surprise.” Rey had to think on her feet once more, reaching across the workbench to grab hold of her saber which she had discarded when she was doing something that she can’t think about without her face going red and alerting the General once again. “But I suppose now is as good as ever.”

Rey held up her saber to the Holocron for General Organa to see. The older woman's eyes went wide, alight with excitement as she laid eyes on the new weapon. “That isn’t my brother's saber…”

“No, it’s not. It’s mine. Crafted from my old staff and some spare pieces of scrap – which is why I came back home to Jakku. It’s where I am right now, actually. I’ve been working on it for the past few days – completely forgot to check in with you. Sorry…”

The General smiled at Rey’s sheepish apology. “Try not to let yourself get too distracted in the future.” Leia lightly reprimanded her. “But I suppose this is a worthy project to be distracted by… Where did you learn how to do such a thing?”

“The Texts.” Rey’s mind thankfully came up with an answer that made sense. “Your brother had a few Jedi Texts stored in his home that I was able to salvage.”

“The Jedi Texts?” Leia asked in disbelief. “Luke was forever frustrated by those books… We stopped our training before I could ever get to them – he always put them off, saying I needed more experience first, but truthfully I think he still didn’t have a complete grasp on them.”

“I can see why.” Rey replied with a breathy chuckle. “They’re not the easiest of reads.”

“They’re not written to be. Yet, you seem to be handling them quite well.”

“I wouldn’t quite say that.” Rey corrected. “I’m only getting bits and pieces, but it’s slow progress.”

And that was the truth. She hadn’t made much progress with the texts, but there were still some. Nothing to do with building sabers of course, that was the lie, but she had come across some interesting subject matters that she wanted to delve deeper into. Something she had never heard of being used before…

“If it’s enough to be able to build a saber by yourself, then I would say you’re doing fine with them.” Leia complimented Rey with a proud smile on her face, which made it all the more painful knowing the lie Rey was feeding to her.

“Thank you, General.” Rey said with a weak smile. “I know you’re all concerned about me, but I promise I’m okay out here. Really. And I’ll always be ready to drop anything and come back to base whenever you need me.”

“Ah… well, you’ve just made the reason for my call a lot easier.”

Rey straightened up at this, feeling her heart rate kick up as she racked her brains for what the General may have meant. “What is it? Is something wrong?”

“Not yet.” Leia answered ominously. “That mission I mentioned earlier? With the troopers undercover? We sent out another unit to accompany then, gather information on a First Order held settlement currently under heavy watch. We believe there’s a contact currently trapped there who could provide us with some more ships.”

“For what price?” Rey asked, because no one ever gave anything for free in war.

“We don’t know yet. That’s why we’re going to send out a scouting unit to see if we safely and efficiently liberate the settlement. I need you to-,”

“It’s better to brief me when I get back, General.” Rey quickly interrupted Leia, cringing at the disrespect. It wasn’t like she had an option, though. Kylo would have heard every detail of the plan from where he was stood. “When we’re face to face, not over this.”

“That’s probably for the best.” General Organa agreed, to Rey’s great relief. “I need you back here in about three days, if you can make that.”

“I can make that.” Rey agreed. “But… are you sure you don’t need me back earlier?”

“I believe you might be a bit of a distraction for the resistance upon your return. I need everyone’s complete focus, especially in the next few coming days.”

This did nothing but pique Rey's interest even more, but she would have to wait until she had returned to the resistance to ask, when there isn’t an extra pair of ears listening in on their conversation. Or at least, that’s what she hoped. She can never entirely control when the Force decides to connect Kylo to her…

“Three days it is, then.” Rey settled on.

“Three days.” Leia repeated in a firm voice. “Keep yourself out of trouble until then, okay?”

Rey couldn’t help but let her eyes drift over to Kylo at that. Keep out of trouble, huh? She was already deep in it…

“I think I can do that.”

* * *

The stillness they found themselves in after the call had ended was stale and uncomfortable, to say the least. Rey had assumed the time after a relationship comes to life would be a bit more light-hearted than this, but then again, you don’t usually receive a call from your new partner's mother – who also happens to be the General of the Resistance, which happens to be opposing the army your new boyfriend is the leader of. They never were going to get a normal start, were they?

“Three days…” Kylo mumbled into the dead air, still hidden away in the corner of the room, having not moved a muscle the few minutes it’s been since the call had ended. “Three days. Then you go back.”

“Seems so.” Rey said in somewhat of a daze, staring down at her hands in her lap.

“Seems important.” Kylo added, finally stepping out of the shadows, illuminated by the streams of light making their way through the damaged ceiling. “Important enough to need a Jedi, anyway.”

“You weren’t supposed to hear any of that.” Rey told him with a strained quality to her voice, already wondering how badly she’s screwed up. “I should have known something like this would happen…”

“It wasn’t really something in your control-,”

“Except it was.” Rey interrupted harshly, more frustrated with herself than anything. “I knew I had to call in, and I let it slip from my mind completely. I hate having to lie to Leia… After all she’s done for me…”

“And I’m sure you’ve done a lot for my mother as well.” Kylo pointed out. “Such as being willing to drop everything and return to her without even knowing what you’re walking into.”

“It’s the least I can do for her. And for the Resistance. I said I’d be there whenever they needed me – I don’t intend to break that promise.” Rey insisted. “I imagine you’ll be called back soon too, then.”

“Most likely.” Kylo concurred. “If the Resistance is planning something that requires you, then my officers will probably be calling me back to base for an urgent meeting.”

“You seem very confident in your officer's ability to know the Resistance’s every move.”

“It’s their job.” Kylo pointed out. “If they couldn’t do their job, they would be replaced.”

Rey snorted sarcastically at him. “Yeah, and I imagine being demoted doesn’t just involve being placed in janitorial staff, does it?”

Kylo didn’t answer that. He let his eyes drop down to the floor, then turned his head away from her completely. Rey wasn’t sure what that meant.

“So… I guess the whole ‘fake fighting plan’ is going to come into play sooner than we expected, huh?”

“Seems that way…” Kylo said in a hushed voice, a surprisingly sad twinge to his voice.

“What are you going to do?” Rey asked him. “Head back to… wherever the First Order is right now?”

Kylo looked back at her now, eyebrows furrowing as he regarded her with a bewildered look. “You’re not leaving for three days.”

“…So?”

“So, neither am I.” Kylo stated like there was no other option. “Every time we separate, we won’t know how long it will be until we get to see each other again. Face to face I mean, not just over the Force. Until I absolutely must go, I will make sure to savor this time I have with you. However long that may be.”

Yep. Rey was definitely in trouble…

“Three days, huh?” Rey asked playfully. “I’m not sure I can handle that much time with you without killing you.”

Nothing brought Rey more pleasure than seeing how hard Kylo was struggling to keep his laughter at bay.

“We’ve made it this far, haven’t we? I think you can handle another three days.”

“I guess we’ll see. Three days… What’s your plans?”

“Not sure about a plan, but… I think a trip to Ahch-To would be nice.”

And just like that, their playful banter had turned to the feeling of someone pouring ice-cold water down her back. She had nearly forgotten about him having heard that part of her and Leia’s conversation… Kylo could easily pick up on the sudden shift in her expression, frowning at the worry he could see on her face.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Rey shot down his suggestion, turning away from him and back to the workbench. She picked her saber back up, finding it was easier to stare down at it rather than look into Kylo’s disappointed and pained eyes.

“You really don’t trust me at all, do you?”

Nope, never mind. The hurt in his voice was so much worse.

“This is more than just trust.” Rey argued, placing the saber back down and forcing herself to look at him. “Ahch-To, it’s… it’s the only connection I truly have left to the light, to the Jedi. It’s where my path truly began. I would be betraying Luke by risking its location. Even you knowing the name is more than I should have given…”

“That still doesn’t explain why you don’t want me there.”

“It’s not you specifically, Ben!” Rey snapped in her frustration. “If the First Order found out-,”

“Why would they find out?”

“Because…” Because why would they? Unless, as Kylo said, she didn’t trust him? She supposed that was the question, wasn’t it? Would Kylo find a use for Ahch-To that the First Order could benefit from? Did she somehow assume that Kylo’s presence would be enough to somehow taint the island? That seemed ridiculous, now she thinks about it… But still, it felt… wrong. Ahch-To was the shelter for the light, the one place of respite for the Jedi. There must have been thousands upon thousands of years of history on that island, of the many Jedi that once stepped foot on that island that have been long forgotten to history. It seems much too disrespectful for her to purposefully bring the one man who’s set on ending the Jedi….

“Let me show you something.” Kylo’s gentle voice brought Rey out of her thoughts. He gestured with his head as he stepped away, leading her over to the make-shift couch he had sat upon the night before.

Rey waited for Kylo to sit down before taking her own seat, shifting so she was facing him. Kylo leaned towards her, ducking his head to meet her eyes and make sure her line of sight was focused on him.

“You remember the first time we spoke face to face?” He asked her.

“You mean in the interrogation chair?” Rey asked, and wow, their relationship really did start oddly, didn’t it?

“Yes. You may recall how I tried to search through your mind for the answers I was searching for. And then you threw everything off by searching through my mind.” Kylo said, waiting for Rey’s nod in response before he continued. “I want you to do that to me again, Rey.”

Rey glanced down to see Kylo was offering his hand to her, his black gloves removed to reveal tanned and weathered skin, his palm facing towards her. Timidly, Rey stretched out her own hand, softly placing her hand down into his. Her fingers curled around the back of his hand the same time as his fingers wrapped around hers, swiping a calloused thumb tenderly over her knuckles. The second her skin touched his, everything seemed to melt away. Kylo had her full focus, like all of her senses were tuned into him, and him alone.

“Ask me something, Rey. I’ll give you my answer, and then you search within my mind. Find out If I answered truthfully. For someone of your abilities, it should be no problem.”

“Do you still love your mother?”

“Yes.” Kylo answered immediately, a muscle under his right eye twitching as he answered. Something about the weird, glazed look in Kylo’s eyes made her uneasy as the words poured out of him. “I always saw my inability to cut my ties with my parents to be my biggest failure. Killing my father did nothing to solidify my allegiance to the Dark, it just left me empty and torn in two. I know the path I’m on will only lead to either my death or my mother’s. If it’s the second, I don’t know if I’ll be able to be the one to do it.”

This was… weird. She didn’t need to search within him to see if he was telling the truth. Rather, the truth seemed to be spilling out from him, perhaps even without his consent. It was… it was kind of like Kylo wasn’t really there, pushed to the back of his mind as she pulled whatever she needed out from him.

It was weird, and it was uncomfortable, and she knew deep down that she shouldn’t be doing this. But she couldn’t help but ask him one last question…

“Are you still drawn to the light?”

“Every day.” Kylo answered with just two simple words, but it was all Rey needed to hear. In a snap, the dream-like daze on Kylo’s face was gone. His eyes cleared and focused, jumping back into the pilot's seat – more like forcing himself back into the pilot's seat – the skin around his face tightening as he clenched his jaw. He ripped his hand out of her grasp like she had burnt him, a wary and surprised look coming into place.

“It’s not very fair of you to take advantage of my trust when you’re not willing to give me the tiniest bit of yours.” Kylo muttered darkly, somehow looking at her both in disappointment and in awe of her power.

“I… I don’t know what came over me, I just… I couldn’t stop myself.”

Kylo glanced up at her as he rubbed at his hand, brushing over the patches of skin where Rey had touched him. Strangely, Rey could also feel a hot, tingling sensation like burning ants running under her skin, only on the spots where Kylo had curled his fingers around her hand.

“You got what you wanted though, didn’t you?” Kylo asked, pulling his glove back out from his pocket.

“I… Yes, actually. I think I did.”

Kylo snapped his glove back into place, raising a brow in question as he looked up to Rey, who had swiftly stood from the couch. His eyes followed her as she headed over to her workbench, grabbing her saber from the table and attaching it securely to the holder on her side. She turned back to face Kylo, gesturing her head at him like he had done not too long ago.

“Three days left together… and I’ve already spent longer on my old home than I wanted to. You’re right- I don’t trust Kylo Ren. But I do trust Ben Solo. I trust that man to come to Ahch-To with me, to keep the location of this sacred place hidden from anyone. I want to spend those three days with you, Ben. But it’s not my decision whether you come to Ahch-To with me. It’s yours. So, tell me – am I going back to Ahch-To alone?”

Kylo responded by standing from the couch, reaching her side in only a few steps and kissing her like they had done it a thousand times before. She doesn’t think she’ll ever get used to the swooping sensation in her stomach whenever his lips are on hers, and she hopes she never does. Rey’s in so much trouble… and she can’t find herself to care.

Kylo broke away, running his hands up from her forearms to her shoulders and giving them a tender squeeze. “I told you I’d be there every step of the way, didn’t I?”

Link To Chapter 10

#reylo #reylo fanfic #reylo fanfiction #ben solo/rey #kylo ren/rey

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jarmes · 4 years

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Beating Pokemon Sapphire with (almost) no damaging moves

Last year, I decided to beat Pokemon Leafgreen without using any damaging moves. It was hard, but doable. A few weeks back, I decided to try and find out if you can beat Pokemon Sapphire under the same ruleset. The answer is no. You can’t. It is physically impossible. Let me explain why.

I started the game up, fast-forwarded through the introduction, and chose Mudkip as my starter. Unlike Leafgreen, which features Bulbasaur, one of the best stall Pokemon in Gen 3, all of the starters in Hoenn are terrible for this run, lacking any real way to stall. I went with Mudkip because it’s the most defensive. Tackle is a damaging move, so Mudkip is unable to use anything but Growl. Fortunately, the Poohcheyana is programmed to run away before it beats you.

I named Mudkip GarbageBoyStinkman (technically GBSM because of character limits) and traveled to Route 103 to meet with May. Having no way to deal damage, I ran from all wild Pokemon along the way. Unfortunately, this is the point the run becomes unwinnable.

You cannot beat May without dealing damage. It cannot be done. None of the starters have any moves that can take out opponents through status moves. Now, you may be thinking, what if I caught another Pokemon on the route? Well, you can’t. You can’t buy Pokeballs until after you beat May. And you can’t trade because you only have one Pokemon. We can’t beat May because her Torchic takes us out in a few hits, and we can’t level up before May because all of the wild Pokemon around do the same. So, the run is over. Game over.

Hence the “almost” in the title. Because May is impossible, we’ll try to beat the game without attacking anyone else. It takes four tackles to take out her Torchic. Technically, because criticals do double damage, two criticals could take May out in two hits, setting our minimum attacking moves at two. Getting two crits in a row only happens one percent of the time, but it is possible. I opted for four hits because the battle was already a wash and moved on.

Birch gives us five Pokeballs and we finally have a little breathing room. Our best strategy, for now, is going to be stalling until enemy Pokemon struggle themselves to death. Mudkip lacks the bulk needed to take a few dozen hits and would end up struggling before the opponent, so I need to get some reinforcements. I caught five Zigzagoon: Chocolate, Caramel, Taffy, Lolly, and Liquorice. Full party in hand, I marched to Route 102 and ran into Youngster Calvin, a six-year-old with a single level five Zigzagoon.

Calvin is the hardest trainer that I’ve ever beaten in any challenge run. Calvin is so insanely difficult that he made me question if the run is actually possible.

At level five, Calvin’s Zigzagoon knows three moves: Tackle, Tail Whip, and Growl. Combined, these two moves have 75 PP, meaning I need to stall for 105 turns before the Zigzagoon will struggle. Growl and Tail Whip are fine, but Tackle deals damage, and my team needs to shrug off 35 of them, plus however many struggles it will take for the Zigzagoon to knock itself out.

Even when my team has used Growl six times and Calvin has avoided all uses of Tail Whip, Calvin’s Zigzagoon can take a member of the Candy Squad out in five hits and GBSM out in six. Now, looking at those numbers, it seems that Zigzagoon should just barely be beatable. Unfortunately, it isn’t. Cal’s Zigzagoon is able to take out the first two of its brothers before they minimize its attack and tail Whip lowers the number of hits we can take. Plus, Struggle does just as much damage as Tackle but only does half as much in recoil, meaning that, if my math is right, it’ll take ten struggles for it to die, meaning that even in the absolute best circumstances, we’d need to survive 45 hits when we only have enough HP to take 36.

Now, there are a few random factors that make me think this battle may be technically possible at this point. Zigzagoon chooses its moves at random, meaning that it could in theory save all of its Tail Whips until after wasting its Tackles. And, as previously mentioned, Tackle can miss, which gives us a free hit to survive. But, at the same time, Zigzagoon can get criticals which effectively doom us. After two more tries, I decided that this battle wasn’t winnable, at least not yet.

So, we can’t beat a level five Zigzagoon. But, the question is, can we beat a level two Wurmple? Because if we can beat some wild Pokemon on Route 201, we can get some EXP and become strong enough to beat Youngster Calvin. Unfortunately, my team right now is just barely too weak to survive a single battle.

Fortunately, I bought a couple of potions. If I use a potion right before the Wurmple can take out Mudkip, I can just barely survive. Now, I only had a few potions, but I wasn’t too worried. After each battle, Zigzagoon has a 10% chance to give a random item after battle, including Super Potions, Rare Candies, and things like Nuggets and Full Restores that I can sell for money. With five Zigzagoon, I had a ~40% chance of getting an item after each battle I won.

But, luck wasn’t on my side. By the time Mudkip reached level eight, I was completely out of items. And Mudkip still wasn’t tough enough to survive a battle without a potion. Game over.

So I completely restarted. This time, I was smarter with my Pokeballs. Instead of throwing them willy nilly and having to buy ten more after running out, I saved and reset until I caught five Zigzagoon using the five balls Birch gave me. I also avoided Calvin until I was ready for him, because losing to him wasted money. The extra money this run gave me was enough to start my grind with ten potions instead of three. Also, I made sure that all of the Zigzagoon I caught were level three this time, hoping that the one extra HP would help. I made a save state and started grinding.

I also switched to hunting Poochyena instead of hunting Wurmple. They deal the same damage at level two and don’t know string shot, which made things go quicker. After my first Poochyena defeat, one of the Zigzagoon picked up a Full Restore, which I was able to sell for five extra potions.

Finally, after hours of grinding, Mudkip hit level ten and was able to survive a battle without a potion. I was ready. I marched up to Calvin and stalled. The battle came down to the wire, with Mudkip being the only team member standing when Calvin started struggling.

And then I ran out of Growls. I could not switch out, I could not attack. I was at full health from the last potion, so I could not use another. Calvin was struggling and I was without any means to beat him. Fortunately, one of the Zigzagoon picked up a Revive while I was grinding and I was able to use it to revive a Zigzagoon and switch to it. Still, I came dangerously close to losing.

After Calvin was defeated, I knew the run was possible. There were half a dozen trainers between me and Petalburg Woods, but fortunately, all of them could be avoided. Petalburg Woods contains two things that were useful for me: Cascoon and Silcoon, who only know Harden and can be trained on easily, and Shroomish, the first member of my actual team.

I caught the Shroomish with an Ultra Ball one of the Zigs picked up and named it Plus Ultra. Shroomish didn’t have any status moves yet, but it did have the ability Effect Spore, which could in theory be used to poison opponents. Effect Spore was too unreliable to rely on, though. I trained Shroomish up to level ten, where she learned Leech Seed. Finally, I had a consistent, controllable means to deal damage. Leech Seed drains one-eighth of the target’s health each turn, giving me a way to slowly whittle down opponents. It doesn’t work on grass types, and it’s slow, but it works well enough for now.

I stormed my way through the early game, beating Roxanne without issue. In Dewford Cave I got the TM for Flash and taught it to Shroomish. Flash is actually a decent stall move; the lowered accuracy does wonders to help Plus Ultra survive while waiting for Leech Seed to kill. I also grabbed the Everstone and gave it to Shroomish to keep her from evolving. Brawly was tough. His Pokemon hit hard, especially after a few Bulk Ups. I managed to get lucky and beat him on my second attempt. All of what I’ve said so far happened in a single six-hour play session, by the way. After beating Brawly, I saved the game and went to bed.

I booted up the game the next day and, for some odd reason I was back in Odale town. That’s weird. Also, I didn’t have any badges. And I didn’t have Shroomish. And all of my Pokemon were as weak as they were before the grind. That’s really weird.

I’m sure I saved after Brawly, but for some reason, it didn’t go through. I reverted to my last save before that. So, naturally, I did the only sane thing: redid everything until I got back to Brawly. It was...fun.

I went through Slateport without much issue; I ran out of Leech Seed PP against a Marill in the Seashore House and had to struggle it out, but that only took an eternity. North of Slateport I caught a new team member: Tex Mex the Gulpin. Gulpin had a decent bulk and comes with Poison Gas and Yawn, giving me a second way to take out opponents and a way to deal with Grass types.

I ran into a trainer with a Roselia on Route 110 and was reminded that Grass/Poison Pokemon are nightmares. Fortunately, I was able to walk around her. I mean, in theory, I could either take a Roselia out with a Zubat that knows Supersonic, by struggling it out, or getting it to kill itself by using Mega Drain on Gulpin because of her Liquid Ooze ability, but none of those plans are worth the effort.

May was, like before, annoying. I took out her Wailmer and Numel easily enough, but her Grovile took out Gulpin with Quick Attack. Fortunately, it poisoned itself thanks to Effect Spore. I made my way to Mauville, grabbed the Mach Bike, and made my way to the Day Care. I abused the Day Care to get both of my main team members up to Level 28. Gulpin evolved into Swalot and gained the new, fantastic moveset of Toxic/Poison Powder/Encore/Amnesia.

Leech Seed and Poison Powder both kill in eight turns. Toxic kills in five, making it our new method of taking things out. Also, I kept Poison Powder because it has a lot of PP making it a good move to waste time with.

I also evolved Mudkip, hoping the new Ground typing would help me beat Wattson. I ended up not needing it, because Shroomish and Swalot took him out with ease. I kept moving through the game until I reached a roadblock on Route 112. An unavoidable trainer with a Roselia. Fortunately, I had a plan.

In the Fiery Path, you can find wild Slugma. Slugma has the ability Flame Body, which has the ability to burn your opponent if they hit you with a contact move. The roadblock Roselia knows Poison Sting, which is a physical move. So I caught a Slugma and named it Sheers. Unfortunately, it has Magma Armor instead of Flame Body. So I caught a second one and named it Sheerz. It also had Magma Armor. The third Slugma, Shers, did have Flame Body. I took it to the Roselia, let it get pounded by Poison Sting, and...it fainted. Turns out Poison Sting doesn’t do contact.

So anyway I released the three Slugma and struggled out the Roselia. On Route 113 I caught a new team member: Punji the Skarmory. Skarmory is a famously bulky Pokemon, with great defensive stats, fantastic typing, and access to the interesting combination of Spikes and Whirlwind. Unfortunately, it doesn’t learn Spikes until level 42. And I caught it at level 16. So, he’s going to be wearing the EXP share and working as a tank for a while.

I stormed through the game until reaching Lavaridge. Lavaridge features cheap herbal medicine, which I used constantly throughout this run. Flannery’s fire Pokemon were a nightmare for Shroomish and Skarmory, but Swalot saved the day, using Amnesia to boost her Special Defence and tank Torkoal’s Overheat. After Flannery, I ran to the desert and grabbed the Sandstorm TM, which I taught to Skarmory to give him a way to deal damage. Sandstorm kills in sixteen turns, which isn’t great, but it does give us a way to take out Roselia. I also caught a Baltoy. I named it Tick because the first two I tried to catch Self Destructed. Baltoy doesn’t learn any status moves until 31, so I taught it Flash and kept it on the bench for a while.

Norman was tough. Poisoning his Pokemon allows them to decimate me with Facade, so I was forced to rely on Leech Seed for damage. Even then, he was able to use Focus Punch flinching, making the battle brutal. Fortunately, Truancy gave me time to heal my team and Norman eventually went down.

I ignored Wattson’s pleas for help and made my way to Fortree City. Along the way, I picked up an Absol I named Obama. His only good move at that point was Taunt, meaning that I had another near useless Pokemon to babysit. Wiona was tough, but Skarmory’s bulk and Swalot’s toxic helped me survive. I had my new Absol Taunt her Altaria to keep her from spamming Dragon Dance. Her Skarmory ended up being the most frustrating one to take out, because it kept killing Shroomish before I could get a Leech Seed off.

After Wiona, Baltoy learned Sandstorm and I taught it Reflect and Light Screen via TM, giving it a use. I caught a Duskull and named her M87. She started with Confuse Ray and Disable, making her a good Pokemon to shut down opponents while waiting for Toxic to kill them. Tate and Liza hit hard, but they only had two Pokemon, both of which Swalot was able to Toxic before going down. At the end of the battle, only Duskull and Baltoy were still standing, but the twins were down. I saved the game and ended another lengthy play session.

And I ended up back at Norman. It was at that point that I learned a fun quirk of my emulator. If you make a Save State, then play for a few hours, then make a battery save, it deletes the battery save and instead opens the save state next time. This also explains the weird issue with me ending up back at Odale Town.

This time, I didn’t have the patience to go through the game fighting trainers. Instead, I snuck past trainers until I caught Absol and Duskull again then abused the Daycare to get all of them up to level 42. This left the team without EVs, but I considered it a good sacrifice for not having to sit through dozens of slow battles.

After my Day Care abuse, I had a few new toys to play with. Duskull evolved into Dusclops, learning Will-O-Wisp and Curse along the way. Baltoy learned Cosmic Power and evolved into Claydol. Finally, Skarmory learned Spikes which, when combined with the Roar TM, gave him a reliable damage method. I also taught Obama Protect from a TM. I stomped the rematches against Wiona and the twins and made my way to the undersea cave.

The Undersea Cave was annoying, both because I had to leave Claydol and Absol behind for HM requirements and because the grunts kept using Taunt. Archie revived Kyogre and I went to Sootopolis to defeat it. Kyogre, the monstrous God of the sea, went down in four turns thanks to Dusclops’s Curse.

Wallace’s Milotic’s spamming of Recover was annoying, but I taunted it and stalled it out. With my eight gym badges, I was able to take on Victory Road. But I wasn’t ready, not quite. The late game battles had been getting harder and harder, so I decided to do a bit of prep work. I fought one hundred different Marill to give my team some HP EVs. I was going to do the same with Cascoon/Silcoon, but decided that I value my own time too much. I grabbed the Focus Band from Meteor Falls. I also made my way through the Ruined Ship because I remembered that the Leftovers were located in a trash can; they aren’t, they’re on the boat that you unlock by beating the Elite Four. Finally, I went back and fought some of the trainers I skipped so I could get money for healing items. My prep work done, I marched through Victory Road.

The trainers were tough, but beatable. I did have to keep leaving to heal my team at the Pokecenter, which was annoying. Waiting at the end of Victory Road was Wally. He sent out his Roselia, that devil, and I took it out with Dusclops’s Curse. I did some quick grinding before the Elite Four and Absol learned the move I caught it for: Perish Song. Perish Song essentially allows me to automatically win if I can get an opponent down to a single Pokemon. Going into the Elite Four, this was my team:

Plus Ultra (Shroomish)

Leech Seed/Flash/Stun Spore/Toxic

Tex Mex (Swalot)

Toxic/Amnesia/Protect/Attract

Punji (Skarmory)

Spikes/Sandstorm/Roar/Sand-Attack

Tick (Claydol)

Sandstorm/Cosmic Power/Reflect/Light Screen

M87 (Dusclops)

Will-O-Wisp/Confuse Ray/Disable/Curse

Obama (Absol)

Perish Song/Double Team/Taunt/Protect

I started out my battle with Sidney with some Spike/Roar comboing from Skarmory. After Skarmory went down, I switched to Swalot and took out a few Pokemon with Toxic. His last Pokemon, his Absol, went down to my Absol’s new Perish Song.

Phoebe’s team of Ghosts abused status moves, forcing me to keep switching out Pokemon. None of the team was knocked out, but the whole team had to step in to get rid of Phoebe.

Glacia was a challenge. Her super effective Ice Beams and Shadow Balls cut through my team. Worse, she managed to freeze Swalot twice. Her Walrein hit like a truck and would have taken out the entire team without Perish Song. At the end of the battle, all I had left was a red health Absol.

My plan for Drake was to have Swalot use Toxic then switch to Claydol. Unfortunately, I was out of Toxic when the battle started. Shroomish managed to take out Shieldon, but was one-shotted by Drake’s Flygon. I sent out Dusclops to use Will-O-Wisp, which missed three times in a row. Dusclops went down to a super effective Crunch, but I revived it and took out both Flygon and the Salamence with Curses and heal item spam. Altaria went down to a Perish Song, opening up the Champion battle, but I knew I was far from ready.

I used my Rare Candies I’d collected over the run, thanks to my Zigzagoon, to get a few last minute levels in. Shroomish finally learned Spore. I took off the Everstone and my boy finally evolved into Breloom. Would it have been easier to just forget about Spore and evolve at 23, as opposed to carrying around a near useless Shroomish for half the run? Yeah, probably. But whatever, I wanted the cool 100% sleep chance.

So, how did my fight with Steven go? Well, I recorded it and uploaded it here.

By the ingame timer, this run took 72 hours. But, I used superspeed. In reality, it only took 17 hours, mostly done during college lectures. I enjoyed this run, it was a fun challenge. I’ve already started on another run, this time in a much more difficult Pokemon game, so look forward to that. Thanks for reading.

#pokemon #challenge run #pokemon challenge #pokemon sapphire

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echoes-of-the-clockwork · 4 years

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Book Three: Pestilence (Ignis x Reader) Chapter Nineteen

The next morning, Ignis was the first awake as per usual. He wandered down to the lobby and joined (Y/n), enjoying a cup of her homemade coffee before heading back to the room and waking the others. Gladio and Prompto were easy to wake while Noctis proved to be more of a challenge.

Eventually, the four were ready and rendezvoused with Pestilence before leaving the Leville. They traversed the waterways of Altissia in a gondola as they discussed their plan.

"During the rite, we must see to it the empire does not harass Leviathan," Ignis stated.

"Gonna be tough to pull off, before the king receives her power," Gladio commented.

"And with four of us on evacuation detail," Prompto sighed.

"Indeed. The best we can realistically do is to help the Hydraean help herself," the bespectacled boy replied.

Gladio arched a brow in curiosity. "What kind of help you talkin' about?"

"Just like Titan, the empire will seek to immobilize Leviathan."

"Ah, with the harpoon things?" The marksman inquired.

"If we can dislodge them from the goddess, she will have a fighting chance," the tactician claimed.

"Death, Famine, and War will be assisting us," (Y/n) stated. "They'll be helping citizens and protecting the Tidemother from the empire."

"At least it won't be just the five of us..." Noctis sighed in relief.

"Sounds good in theory, but don't push it. It's pointless unless you can get that blessing," the shield said.

"Stay flexible, stay alert," the advisor warned the raven-haired boy.

Noctis nodded. "Alright, will do."

After disembarking the gondola, the group went their separate ways as citizens of Altissia shuffled through the streets toward Yureil Plaza to listen to Lady Lunafreya's address. As they passed many pedestrians, Pestilence could sense her sisters' presences and searched the crowd. She located them a few yards away as they went in opposite directions.

While Gladio, Prompto, and Ignis contacted Noctis, (Y/n) weaves through the crowd and toward a radio a group of people were gathered around. She tuned in and realized the Oracle had begun delivering her speech. The Horseman listened to Lady Lunafreya, hanging onto each word.

Once the speech was over and she heard cheering, her attention was drawn to the sky when the sound of buzzing engines reached her ears. Her eyes narrowed when she spotted myriads of imperial airships soaring in the sky above. They were still a good distance away from the altar, but she could already hear the panicking of the citizens around her.

Out of the blue, (Y/n) sensed a powerful surge of energy. She heard a cry in the distance, recognizing it as Leviathan's. She could feel the ground shaking, puzzled as to what the Tidemother was doing to create such powerful tremors.

Splitting up from Gladio, Prompto, and Ignis, (Y/n) quickly escorted people to the docks where the boats were being loaded. The fright of the empire looming in the sky and Leviathan's presence made it easy to evacuate people. No one argued as the Horseman commanded them where to go. They ran to the docks, passing the girl without question. When she discovered a few older people struggling to make it to the docks, she called upon Erra and demanded the horse to help. The steed bobbed his head up and down in understanding as an elderly couple mounted his back before storming off in the direction of the docks.

Once the area was cleared of civilians, (Y/n) ran through the now abandoned streets of Altissia in search of the others. She wondered how Noctis was doing as she ran as fast as she could, no longer being able to sense Leviathan's presence. As she was running, she sensed another powerful presence. She was puzzled at the mana signature as another tremor shook the ground. She kept herself from falling by leaning against a building. Once the ground ceased shaking, she moved forward and found herself standing at the entrance of a bridge. While contemplating whether to cross or head in another direction, she heard her name being called and looked at a figure crossing the bridge. It was Ignis.

The Horseman met him halfway. Prompto and Gladio were close behind as they lost their balance for a split second as another tremor threatened to knock them off their feet. The advisor pressed his finger against his earpiece and tried to contact Noctis once the tremor ceased. "Noct, do you read me?"

"Do you know if he's okay?" Prompto asked, worried about his best friend.

"The trial should be over by now, right?" Gladio inquired.

Ignis spun on his heels to face his companions. "I can't tell a bloody thing from here. Let's make for the altar." (Y/n) suddenly felt a familiar bloodthirsty presence and gasped. With both hands, she shoved Ignis out of the way and cried out as the draugr used its body to bulldoze through the stone and pierce her flesh with its rusted blade before pulverizing through the other side of the bridge. An eerie, maniacal chuckle came from the monster as she heard Gladio, Prompto, and Ignis shout her name. She glanced back up at the bridge, noticing the portion that was taken out of it before her body plunged into the water.

Underneath the water, Pestilence yanked the blade out of her abdomen before teleporting to a random point in the city. She coughed up some water as her wound healed before looking around and spotting the bridge the others were on. Before she could call out to them, she looked up to the sky and saw an imperial ship lose control and plummet toward the bridge. She watched in horror as the aircraft smashed into the bridge and shattered it into pieces. She desperately wanted to know if the others were safe, but she wasn't able to think before the draugr reappeared. She glared at the monster as water dripped from its decaying flesh. "You've terrible timing."

Summoning her staff, Pestilence tapped it against the ground. "You're not going to make this easy." Black tendrils erupted from her back as the draugr swung its blade at her. The tendrils easily blocked each and every swing the monster delivered while two snake-like appendages turned into blades and slashed at it. The undead warrior dodged the shadow blades, backing away from the Horseman.

When (Y/n) believes she had the upper hand, the draugr grinned as two more arms sprouted from its torso. Her eyes widen in horror. "Th-That's not possible...!"

The monster lowered its sword as its other three hands yanked weapons imbedded in its flesh before closing the distance between it and Pestilence. The tendrils had difficultly blocking all four blades. Seeing how outmatched she was, the Horseman knew she had to rethink her strategy.

The moment the draugr left itself open, (Y/n) manipulated the tendrils and used them to bound the monster. She twisted one appendage tightly around its bottom left arm and managed to snap it off. The tendrils tossed the arm aside before it slowly melted into a puddle of black muck.

The draugr broke free, swinging its three remaining swords wildly. The Horseman backed away, the tendrils vanishing as she used another shadow spell to create wings. She took the the sky, knowing the assailant would follow her. She didn't make it far before the monster leapt after her and tackled her body. She cried out in pain as she and the draugr smashed into one of the crumbling buildings. Her sable wings vanished as her back slammed into the ground, creating a crater in the pavement. She cracked open her eyes and stared up into its foggy ones.

Before (Y/n) could trade her staff for her chakrams, the draugr pierced one blade through her chest and the other two through her wrists. A bloodcurdling scream escaped the girl as the blades plunged into her body, successfully pinning her body to the ground. Her scream echoed throughout the destroyed city as she was forced into a world of excruciating pain.

The monster chuckled darkly, satisfied by its performance. It leapt away from the Horseman, admiring its work before vanishing.

(Y/n) felt blood oozing from her chest and wrists. While her throat became raw from screaming, the tears of agony never ceased. She stared up at the sky, feeling completely helpless. Her body was immobilized and she couldn't summon her staff or chakrams.

After seconds turned into minutes, the Horsemen stared up at the sky with dull eyes. She helplessly watched as imperial ships flew above and headed for the altar. When she felt her heart rate decreasing from the amount of blood she was losing, she closed her eyes and welcomed death with open arms. It wouldn't be her first time dying and she knew she would regain consciousness in a few hours. She just prayed to the Astrals someone would find her and remove the blades so her body could heal properly. If she remained as she was, she would only be able to focus on resurrecting once the blades were removed from her body.

As (Y/n)'s consciousness began to fade, she heard a familiar voice call out to her and the sound of shoes scuffling across the pavement. Feeling a familiar warmth when someone touched her cheek, her eyes fluttered open. "I-Ignis..." She shakily spoke the advisor's name.

Without saying anything, Ignis used his strength to remove the swords from her chest and wrists. He tossed the weapons aside as he kneeled beside her. When he noticed the wounds weren't healing as fast as they usually wound, he placed one of his gloved hands against her cheek and wiped away the tears. "(Y/n)," he called out to her.

"M-My wounds..." The Horseman managed to say. "They're not...mending properly..."

"Is there anything I can do to help the process?" He inquired.

She slowly shook her head. "No... Potions don't work...on me..." She inhaled a shaky breath. "Th-The draugr... It's more powerful than before. Something's...changed..."

"No more speaking," Ignis commanded. He glanced at her wounds and noticed their delayed healing. "For now, we must make haste to the altar."

(Y/n) whimpered as he hauled her to her feet. "N-No, Ignis. I'll only...slow you down..." She leaned against him when he wrapped an arm around her waist. "Leave me..."

"Nonsense," he spat, carefully grabbing her arm and hooking it around his neck. He was careful and wrapped his hand around the area above where her injury was on her left wrist. "I refuse to leave you behind."

"Why...do you have to be...so obstinate?" Pestilence murmured feebly. "I will only...get in your way..."

"No more prattling," Ignis argued, tightening his arm around her waist. He dragged her weakened body toward the east bridge. Seeing it was destroyed, he stood at the edge and glanced across. He saw a perfect spot to use his hookshot and made sure his right arm was wound tightly around (Y/n)'s waist. "I know you are in a delicate state, but I must ask you hold on tight."

"What're you...planning, Ignis?" She questioned through labored breaths.

"To cross this bridge."

The tactician fires his hookshot and within seconds, he and the Horseman reached the other side of the bridge and entered the Tigiano District. As Ignis was about to head further into the district, he saw imperial ships hovering nearby and two figures walking toward one of the aircrafts. He quickly hid himself and (Y/n) behind one of the bridge's intact pillars. He listened closely as Ravus and Caligo conversed.

"Have you located the Ring yet, Commander? And what of Lunafreya?" Ravus inquired.

"Both, High Commander, but our forces are unable to extract either at present," Caligo responded. "We've no way of approaching the altar so long as the Archaean stands in our way."

Ravus scowled as his eyes landed on the Astral in the distance. "Even the gods are on his side..." He turned his gaze away from Titan and peered over his shoulder at Caligo. "Neither the King nor the Oracle will escape with their lives if this fighting continues. Order a full retreat. I'm going in alone."

The brigadier general gaped in shock. "B-But, Sir-!"

"I assume you are already familiar with how I got this arm?" The high commander questioned, interrupting the older man.

Caligo held back his retort and replied, "Yes, Sir."

"Then you must also know the Ring is worthless without one who can wield it."

"Very well, Sir." He bowed his head as Ravus sauntered off. Once the high commander was out of sight, he muttered, "How dare he address me with such impudence. Has he forgotten his place entirely? Or is he too concerned about his sister to care?" He lifted his head and boarded the airship behind him. With the brigadier general safely inside the aircraft, the hatch sealed and it took off toward the altar.

Once Caligo was gone, Ignis gently lowered (Y/n) to the ground and leaned her back against the pillar. He kneeled down in front of her, noticing her eyes were closed and her chest was rising and falling rapidly. He examined the ripped open flesh on her wrists and chest and saw how her wrists were almost healed. Unfortunately, the wound in her chest was still bleeding and the skin was having difficulty mending. He combed aside a snowy strand and placed it behind her ear before leaning forward and pressing his forehead against hers. "I will come back for you." With those final words, Ignis left the Horseman and headed deeper into the Tigiano District.

<---------<<<<<

By the time (Y/n) regained consciousness, her wrists and chest were healed. Blood drenched her clothes, but she wasn't bothered by it as she pushed herself off the ground. She was unsteady on her feet from the blood loss as she summoned her staff, using it as a cane to support her weight and help her walk. She searched the Tigiano District for Ignis, using her connection to the summoning orb to locate him. Locating the artifact, she trudged through the destroyed district before arriving in the Deutato Residential District.

No enemies were in sight as she pushed forward and ignored the small tinges of pain in her chest from where the draugr stabbed her. She continued following the orb until she felt it come to a sudden halt. From where she stood, she spotted the docks and a group of people waiting to be rescued alongside the commander.

Scanning the docks, she saw one boat and one person on it. Recognizing the spiky locks and the tall, slender form from behind, Pestilence pushed herself to move forward and headed to the docks. She tried to run, but her body was still weak and trying to replenish the blood she lost. Biting her bottom lip, she fought through the weakness and pain to reach the docks.

Arriving at the docks, (Y/n) called out to Ignis but it was too late. He started the boat and took off, leaving her behind.

#ffxv x reader #ffxv #final fantasy xv x reader #final fantasy xv #ignis x reader #ignis scientia #prompto argentum #gladiolus amicitia #Noctis Lucis Caelum

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courtorderedcake · 4 years

Text

Hallow : ch xvii - CSSNS 2019

“The Goblin King was prepared to host the Darkness, stealing Fae women away to their corrupted lands underneath the ground as concubines. The Darkness chose another in his stead, but not before this selected vessel enacted a devastating attack in its vengeance, revealing its hatred & rage. The battle was a lesson the old kings had forgotten; never underestimate an opponent.

Many more lives were lost as they razed over any who dared defy The Goblin King’s will. Only the pure love of our rulers united in matrimony, breaking the Vorpal Dagger, sealed the darkness and the Goblin menace away. The light flourished under their fair rule, and the queen bore a child as pure as moon beams, swan feathers, and starlight. They lived happily ever after, and shall be written in history as Heroes for All Time.”

This is the history Princess Emma memorizes from the day she is born, paraded about and presented only with the highest protection. The palace is a cage she wishes to escape, desperately. Not careful what wishes she made, Emma discovers history is written by the victors - The Dark One has an entirely different version of the events that took place.

Read on AO3 here.

Rated E for explicit themes, Mature situations, and Fae fuckery.

Written for @cssns

Ch 16 / 28 - In which the Dark One returns in full force.

The princess woke in his arms as the Darkness rumbled its nefarious promises from before, unaware of his protected feelings of relief and happiness. She lived, she was whole, they had won, and she had forgotten that he had loved her with every bit of himself, his true self, before it could be corroded away.

Then she spoke, her voice dry and hoarse from disuse, and she had said that she must remember him. Remember him as the Dark One.

Oh, isn't that interesting? Maybe you crushing her heart - killing her, remember? You killed her, by grinding it to powder in your palm - is worth remembering after all. Isaac did say that she would only forget the dreams… He said nothing about the nightmares.

Killian pulled away, looking at her with confusion in a bid to hide the paralyzing fear that he felt. He managed a noise, but she moaned, only repeating the location. He opened his mouth to ask, but she began to cough, and he realized how long it had been since she had drank anything. Pulling one of the tea cups from a shrine, he collected water from a bamboo fountain in the cathedral. She gulped it down greedily, asking for more, but he slowed her.

"Too much too fast and you'll be sick." He took the cup, her glared look almost making him smile with fondness. Swallowing back everything again, he let the Darkness begin tearing apart his feelings, feeding them to the fire.

Wait - oh, vessel, you grow more infantile by the day - you still care about her?

When I am done, she will never be able to speak your name again without fear. I won't ever stop reminding her that you are mine.

"I don't… Killian," She coughed again, and he helped her tip the cup past her lips once more. There was a distinct feeling that she was much lighter, a fragility that had not been there before on top of her ritual induced atrophy. "What happened? All I can remember is to get to Agrabah; we have to get to wherever that is. I'm supposed to remember… You, and something else… What exactly took place?"

She didn't remember. He breathed in, surprised at how sad it made him. That sadness was instantly replaced with anger as he let her go, feeling the pitch black fire in him roar into a blaze.

When I am done, there will be no doubt about who we are.

"You didn't bloody well listen to me, again, and ended up being thrown headfirst into more matters of life and death level chaos. If you are trying to get killed, at least give me the shard around your stupid neck so I don't have to sit by and wonder if you are throwing your chance at saving your kingdom away." He scowled, emphasizing his words with a low growl. "And with it my freedom."

"I - I'm sorry, I thought -"

"Stop thinking then, and just take a minute to wait! You then could have the opportunity to observe that your decisions are going to kill people!" he yelled, and she jumped.

"But - The barrier -"

"Oh, aye, the barrier - you did break that at least, coming within a hair's width from the grave for it," he replied sarcastically.

Emma shook her head. "No, it's still up. I know I destroyed it, but it isn't down. I can feel it. Something is keeping it intact -"

The cathedral shook, small pieces of the structure raining down on them. Emma stood on shaky legs, hobbling to the door.

The barrier burned overhead, like it was dipped in magma, holding in place even while its cracks shined bright against the night sky. Outside, they could now hear the screaming of the islanders and the sounds of terror as they ran from something, Killian’s eyes adjusting to see Cruella with her… Pet.

The huge black creature squatted on its haunches, frog-like legs proceeding many long limbs that reached for anyone and anything it could shovel into its maw. Cruella stood behind it, her necklace glowing a bright scarlet even through the thick clouds of green smoke that seemed to engulf her. Her laugh was a giddy cackle, Lilly's parents and Mushu running to meet them at the cathedral.

Cruella screamed, her hair wild and nails long in the strange orange light of flame. "You fools, you absolute imbeciles! How dare you think I would let any of you go when I could simply drain you all!?"

Lilly's head was bleeding, a hastily applied bandage put across her forehead, but she ran straight away to Emma and hugged her tight enough to where Emma was set into another coughing fit. It turned into a mixture of laughs as they pulled apart, Emma standing shakily as Lilly talked rapidly.

"Cruella has gone absolutely batshit and that thing with the husk mask ate all the actual husks, making itself bigger and growing hair. Now it's eating Kitsune and Dragon alike as if they are candy!" She frantically spoke, Mushu coming up behind her, wearing an angry scowl that matched her parent's faces.

"We have to kill her and it -" Zorro pointed out the set of main doors, directly at Cruella. Another beam tumbled, and he moved out of the way as the front wall came down.

Cruella turned, her eyes going even wider with insane glee. "My darling huskums, my beautiful creature, turn and look at these morsels -"

The creature did turn as the cathedral crumbled further, Killian dodging the debris as Emma struggled while she was pulled away by Lilly. The group peered out, watching Cruella lead it towards them as the creature looked on, its arm reaching out towards them. Cruella clapped her hands in glee, the creature’s hand passing over her before coming down in a hard smack, as it drew her into its mouth.

"No!" she screeched. "I created you! I am your mistress, your owner, you are my sss -"

Her cries died as she slid down its throat, and it turned back to knock aside another building, picking through rubble to gulp down any hiding islanders. They watched in disgust as it slurped down faces they recognized, before it turned away to knock down another structure and they turned to duck further in the shadows.

"Alright," Mal said, slowly. "Just the husk creature then."

While the cathedral's main room was destroyed, the hallway off of it where it separated into a small entrance wing remained safely upright, and they moved forward. The King opened a small hidden compartment in a standing pillar, distributing swords to everyone; everyone but Emma, who was struggling just to hold herself up by using the wall.

"I'll fight without, I'll be okay," she rasped out, closing her eyes for a moment and leaning back.

Lilly pulled on Killian’s arm. "Is she alright? What's going on with -"

The Dragon King interrupted the whispered concern.

"We'll flank it and take it out by slashing the belly and under the arms. Bleed it out as if it were any other animal, and adjust from there. Stay tight in formation, two by two, on its -"

"Don't hurt it!" Phillip roared, tackling King Zorro. The Dragon King was unprepared for the blow, but was up in a moment with his sword drawn. Queen Maleficent followed suit, both of their steel glinting in the burning air.

Phillip stood in front of the cathedral door, his arms outstretched. "You can't hurt it, that's Aurora in there -"

Killian snorted in time with the Dragon King's own scoff.

"I promise you, Kitsune Prince, Aurora is not the one controlling that thing," Maleficent said, grimacing. She took a step forward, blade raised to Phillip's chin.

Phillip refused to flinch, squaring his shoulders. "I think I can talk to it, calm it. If I can just reach her -"

"It ate the husks, Phillip. They walked right into its mouth!" Lilly reasoned. "That's not - I mean, Phillip, come on!"

Phillip remained immovable. "That was just her body, which is empty. Aurora's soul is in there, I can feel it."

"Or, you go out there and it eats you too, mate." Killian flicked his eyes towards the Kitsune. "Like it ate Chihiro, Haku, the Dragon sisters from the kitchen -"

Lilly laughed slightly despite herself, and Phillip glared. He looked directly at the Dragon King who looked pensive.

"At least let me try," Phillip asked, pleading.

The Dragon King gave a firm nod. "Go then. Should you fail, we will continue."

Phillip nodded, turning and running out of the cathedral. Emma wobbled slightly, but followed carefully behind, stopping in the cathedral's awning area, watching as the rest huddled to see behind her.

Phillip waved at it, both arms flailing as it drew near at a slow pace, its hands full of writhing people as it threw them down into its gullet as if eating grapes. It finished what was in its dark palms, and slowly turned towards Phillip, its body rippling.

"Aurora! I know you can hear me!" he shouted, and the creature tried to paw at him with its many hands. Phillip dodged them gracefully, moving back out of its reach. To Killian’s surprise, horror, and dark amusement, the Kitsune began to sing.

The creature responded instantaneously, its hands and arms all absorbing into its body but for the front two, its mouth closing, and its masked head lowering to stretch towards Phillip while resting on its haunches.

"See? It's me Ror," Phillip spoke to it, reaching his hand forward. His voice was a strong tenor, smooth and soothing, as the monster reached its hands toward him. "I know you, the gleam in your eyes is so familiar a gleam…"

Opening its palms in front of where Phillip stood, it rested them there as Phillip continued, growing bolder. He stepped onto them, and was carefully lifted upwards as if to be studied closer.

"And if I know you, and I know that I do," he continued singing, "You'll love me at once, the way you did once,"

"He actually fucking did it," Killian whispered, Emma swaying slightly to the soft tune. She leaned against the column, holding a hand against her chest, coughing slightly. He fought the urge to steady her.

Lilly and her family looked as completely taken aback as Killian felt.

The Dragon princess shrugged. "I guess Aurora is in there, who would have guessed."

Phillip continued to sing, the creature observing as the island burned around them, and its denizens ran for shelter. "I know you, I've walked with you -"

With both hands, it shoved Phillip into its mouth so quickly Killian could hear the end note trail off into a yelp as the man slid down its throat.

"Ah." Killian winced. "There it is."

Turning back to peruse for more victims, the King signaled the original plan was set to go.

"Emma," Lilly began, worried. "Are you sure you can -"

Emma waved her hand dismissively. "It's fine. I have my magic, and besides, I think I am due for a stretch anyways."

Lilly looked unconvinced, and Killian felt the same behind his uncaring facade. Emma looked at him, and he looked elsewhere, Lilly glancing between them with a growing scowl.

"We'll go ahead," Lilly announced, pushing in front of her Mother, Father, and Mushu. "We know the ground here, and should we need to, we can blow fire or smoke to get away, or even change. If the assault works, come into the weak areas with magic and you," she nodded at Killian, "Focus on its regions where it may be weak but it is more dangerous, like the neck. If we aren't successful, we'll blast it with fire and see how that goes."

Maleficent looked surprised, but then shook it off, while Zorro seemed pleased. Mushu only looked proud, and Killian felt a pit grow in his stomach. He had looked at Emma like that once.

And never again, unless we are proud of how much we've broken her, or how much suffering she endured before finally succumbing. You will never know her without terror: hers or yours.

"That's an excellent strategy, let's go," Mushu said, pulling Lilly's hand into his, much to her surprise. She blushed, but her ferocity didn't wane. "Princess, Dark One, we will see you soon on the field. Luck will be with all of us, Fiore and Ifrit bless us."

The four gave whoops as they ran out to the field, Emma and Killian staying ducked in the entrance where the creature could not see.

Swords drawn, they moved quickly and with a precision that was dance like, swords casting sparks on the thing’s hard belly and limbs. Only Maleficent and Zorro struck true, Zorro under an armpit then dragged up into the flesh beside, brownish sludge pouring out of the hole that acted as if it was fabric. The arm swiftly pulled into its body, swallowed back like it had been suctioned back inside, the black tears of it dripping to the ground in strips. Another arm appeared elsewhere as its innards continued to trickle slowly out of the wound.

Maleficent had luck ripping her sword through just under the neck of the creature, throwing her sword hard enough to puncture its chest as it tried to smash its hands and face in a timed fashion where it could shovel her into its mouth. It shrieked at the wound, but plucked the sword out easily as she barely got away. They tried flames on its lower side, but it simply bubbled like tar, seeming to harden any lacerations they might have created. The four were forced to turn, whipping into the sky where the creature stretched unnaturally in its attempts to grab them.

The thing shielded itself with one hand as the Dragons rained down fire, another of its hands shooting out to grab Mushu, slurping him down with a slick, wet, noise. They flew around again, this time fire almost catching Kitsune alight in the creature’s hold as it ate them with a smashed hand to its face. Landing, they ran for cover as they changed forms in defeat.

The creature searched for them, but was either unable to or uninterested in finding them while other morsels ran about, Emma and Killian’s hiding spot ripped away as it searched. The thing grinned widely at them, and Killian pushed Emma away as one of its many hands hit the ground where they had been. To her credit, while the princess was exhausted and still confused, she did not hesitate to try and find another hiding place, heading for a small cluster of pine trees. The only problem was that while it had not fixated on any certain target before, it had certainly locked its sights on Emma.

Ripping the trees from the ground with their roots still dripping clumped dirt, Emma slid down the newly created embankment and continued to run. Killian ran at its black mass, drawing his sword, trying to cut any of its limbs or body. While somehow gelatinous, the thing's body was also hard and elastic, not yielding to his sword in the least. A great hand pushed at him half heartedly as it turned, still focused on Emma as she ran.

"Swan!" he yelled with vehemence as she dodged another of its clumsy attempts to pluck at her. What the hell was she doing? It wasn't as if the thing was magic proof, her best skill as it were. "What are you -"

There was panic written on her face, a dead giveaway that something was wrong. Her hands crackled slightly with static the color of sunbeams, but the only effect was her falling forward slightly to her knees, looking at him with wide eyes while taking huge lungfuls of air.

"Emma?" Lilly called, running toward where the princess sat, Emma just barely rolling out of the way as the husk beast chopped where she was with the side of another of its great hands.

"My magic -" Emma choked out, knees wavering as she dodged again. "I can't - My magic isn't working!"

Lilly screamed at her, both of them lost under the bellowing roars that came from the monster's hungry mouth.

Her attempts to escape its grip grew sloppier as she began to tire, and it only grew more infuriated. A backhanded swing caught her in the thighs, sending her spinning in the air towards Killian, before landing hard to roll on the ground. He drew back his sword and drove it into the meat of the thing as hard as he could, just under the armpit of one of its limbs. It shrieked, a hand stopping from rising to squish where Emma lay prone and unmoving. He sprinted towards her, pulling her up in time to be pressed down against her tightly, one of the black palms pushing him to blanket her body to the point he feared he might crush her. As it lifted, claw-like fingers digging under her, the grip loosened.

Killian attempted to struggle, to pull them both free, but its tongue wrapped around them as Lilly screamed and he wrapped his arms around Emma protectively.

Sliding down its throat, pressure increased around them as moans and vibration seemed to come from every direction at once. A viscous liquid flooded over them, muffling noises to an indeterminate buzz, but allowing slow breathing. Emma stirred slightly in his arms and all fear fled him except her waking up only to die like this, to wake up scared and have no hope of rescue from the belly of the beast they rested in, to waste away slowly as Killian could only look on. He would go mad. The Darkness had other concerns.

What would happen to him, the undying, in this manner of decay? Would he simply rot partially forever until whatever cataclysm took place that was more powerful than the Darkness? Would it be like a whale, some unlucky soul slaying the beast only to find him inside after spilling its entrails?

It's your fault; all of this is your fault. As far back as the war and as close as you letting her think she had any chance of helping these Elemental beasts. Ironic, but then again, tragic.

A low gleam came from somewhere nearby, slightly above and a little more than a head's length in front of him. A steady pulse of light was trying to glow, growing brighter with every attempt.

There was a lurch and a sound that rattled his teeth as they were pushed forward, upwards, then out into the air until his back hit the ground. Emma rested on top of him, still but coughing slightly in her unconscious state, fingers curled into his soaked shirt. When he moved as others fell around him, she nuzzled in closer, murmuring softly.

Kitsune and Dragons alike fell as the creature seemed to fall apart while vomiting as it unraveled. A light continued to glow from within it, and as it became smaller, it released bright bursts of color that swirled outwards like that of the Northern Aurora. The ribbons of multicolored brightness pulled the creature apart even faster, until there was nothing left of the beast. Where it had been, islanders began to moan and move, all whole and covered in the thick ooze. As Killian held Emma to him, he watched Phillip stumble to his feet as one of the first to stand.

"What a small intestines," he grumbled, flicking away the slime from his clothes and hands.

Nearby, a black figure lurched upward, its mask jostling to the side.

"Philly? Philly is that you?" a woman called, her voice beautiful, lilting melodically. "I've been looking for you for so long!"

Her mask fell aside, and her eyes sparkled brightly. They were an otherworldly blue, almost violet.

"Ror? Oh Gods, Aurora?" Phillip approached her cautiously as she slipped to her feet, catching her when she almost fell forward. "Is it you? Ifrit praised, I cannot be dreaming…. Please, I -"

She threw her arms around him, and he stumbled, other voices around then erupting in surprise in turn.

A woman with red curls ran to a man who's graying hair and mustache were an unkempt mess, both of them practically howling with happiness.

"Lady, I thought I'd never see you again. I followed after you the next year -"

The red haired woman's curls bounced as she shook her head, smacking him lightly. "Louie you tramp! Are you daft? Why would you ever do that!"

Another couple openly sobbed while holding each other, unable to say much more than their names again and again.

"Roger and Anita. Lilly told me about them. They chose to go together, or not at all," Emma said quietly, startling him. She moved in his hold to let herself down, and he felt the loss of her warmth as if he had crawled into a dark cave.

Lilly and Emma met together in the midst of everything, hugging each other tightly. Emma picked up the now dimming source of light in her palm, a smooth stone, and looked at Lilly affectionately.

"You used it all to save everyone. I knew that I could trust you." Emma smiled, and Lilly cupped her cheek as they put their foreheads together.

"I had to. The magic we would use to exist wouldn't matter if there is no one here to exist." Lilly grinned. A glittering snow began to fall underneath the lingering light show in the sky, covering the landscape in mother of pearl iridescence. The barrier had finally fallen, bursting into the shimmering particles of magic. The princesses broke apart with shock as Lilly began to laugh, catching the powder in her hands.

Killian walked towards where the Dragon King and Queen were standing, looking at an ancient woman, her bald head and milky white eyes not betraying who she had been.

Cruella.

Her body was skeletal, a dark burn where her necklace had been. Her nails that remained were long and still red, but that was the only thing left of her former glory. She mumbled incoherently, laughing softly occasionally at her babbles.

Killian smirked, looking down at her bald head collecting the falling barrier remnants.

"Looks like in the end, Cruella became a husk of sorts. How fittingly ironic." Isaac spoke from behind them, the King, Queen, and Killian turning to look at him. Killian glared, his anger growing into rage.

"I'll care for her. It's the least I can do after all this," he sighed, and Killian launched himself forward, punching the man hard in the jaw.

"Killian!" Emma shrieked from nearby, as Lilly laughed. Mushu and Zorro held Killian back as he lunged after the man.

"I deserve that," Isaac slurred. "But you could have been happy, or could have taken her trinket and had happiness that way. I offered options in the worst-case scenarios, and for that you should show some grati -"

Killian felt the Darkness surge from his anger, ripping out of the Dragon's hold. He punched Isaac hard again, sending the man toppling backward.

"I owe you nothing, and if I didn't want off this accursed rock, I'd tear you into pieces," Killian snarled. A hand touched his arm and he whirled, Emma staring up at him with startled eyes.

"Killian, what is going on?" she asked, worry written across her face. "What happened? What is he talking about?"

"I -" Killian ran his tongue over his teeth. "It's nothing. Go find out where the bloody hell Agrabah is, and how long the journey will be. I'm taking a walk."

He turned on his heel and left Emma confused, not turning even when she called after him.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

By the time he had returned, showered, and changed into a different outfit not covered in what could be assumed was husk vomit, a celebration was taking place. Kitsune and Dragons lit fireworks and a band played merrily as barrels of ale were cracked open.

Mushu and Lilly danced together, laughing joyously, as Queen Maleficent slurred out the names of the returning husks.

"We welcome back Aurora along with Nana, Roger, Anita, Max, Lady, Louis, and Todd who returned from huskdom. We cannot say how good it is to have them back!" Cheers erupted, the crowd going mad. The returning husks gave bows, lifted in the air briefly by magic. "And we owe it all to the Princess of the United Realms, Emma N'lan, and her partner, Killian Jones of the Blackwater. They repay her family's part in the curse originally laid on this island, and have paid that debt in full."

Emma was seated at a table, not dancing, still looking tired. She gave a wave before draining a goblet. Her eyes caught his, but he turned away, slinking into the shadows before anyone could see he had joined the festivities.

Heading back to pack their things and prepare the ship, he was surprised by Lilly calling after him.

"What do you need, Dragon Princess?" he drawled out, and she snorted.

"What I need is for you to come and enjoy the party so Emma doesn't have to sit there and endure it alone." She placed a hand on her hip, looking at him as if he was stupid. "What happened to 'We make a hell of a team'?"

She imitated his voice in a gruff and overly accented manner as she repeated what Emma had said of them.

"None of that," he gritted out, "None of it happened. Don't mention it to me again." He nodded at her sharply, and moved to leave. When he had gotten a few brisk paces away, he heard her shout from behind him.

"For what it's worth, you both seemed happy. Emma even said that she would - "

"For what it's worth, Lilly," he spat, rounding on her. "None of this would have happened if you, your people, Cruella, and Isaac did not try this scheme. You almost…" The words caught in his throat. Swallowing hard, he continued. "You're lucky that the princess lacks any self preservation."

She'll do herself in soon enough, or I'll see to it, and take that necklace since you are so incompetent -

"I'm lucky she sees the good in everyone who deserves it, you mean?" Lilly shot back, her chin high. "You could tell her, just let her know that you both cared about each other. That alone might surprise you."

You care about one thing only. The shard, the Dagger piece, the necklace around that silly princess’s neck. We’ll get it, get it, get it and we won't kill her, but we'll play with her and make her wait in the dark. I'll let you see her and hear her screaming as she grows more and more fearful of you by the day. Oh, yes, we will bide time until the blade can be stolen. Then we will kill everyone, but save her for last -

"No. No one tells her anything. I've made my decision regarding Emma, I'm… I'm backing off. The Dark One has never been able to care about anyone. To think otherwise is a fool's errand."

And you're the fool who runs them, listening to his weak ideas. I am your master and you have been oh so willful.

I can't wait to punish you, I think I'll start with her wrists. They're so delicate, easy to break.

"But -"

"Lilly. Enough," he growled, his eyes shut tight. The Darkness babbled on with its non stop comments, the noise not a bother to Killian anymore. The thing that bothered him was the heaviness in his rib cage, the feeling of longing the Darkness either chose to ignore on purpose, or couldn't see.

"Fine." Lilly huffed, but thrust a piece of paper into his hands. "Take this at least. It wasn't as good as yours, but I did the best I could." He held the piece of parchment in his fingers, not willing to unwrap it.

She whirled around and stomped away, finally leaving him alone; just himself and his ever present parasite. He turned over the words he'd been stuck on that had caused him a visceral, sharp ache. They should not have hurt so much, nothing should if he wanted the Darkness to mind itself. Opening the paper, he let out a hiss of air. The charcoal drawing was not as good as his had been in the Dreamscape, but it still captured Emma's face hitting the sun as she wore a daisy crown. Her eyes were soft, looking at him with affection, her smile so happy. He traced the curve of her jaw, slightly smudging the black line.

Alone again, alone forever, but can you imagine how alone you will be when we succeed? I might let you keep a play toy, would you like that? Then you could make sure she never dies, just stays your pet, watching while you destroy everything.

Running over them repeatedly to induce numbness, he broke himself against them again and again, like a wave against rock.

Emma could have died.

She could have died.

What if she died?

The shard would be gone, you simpering half-wit. Stop pretending and actually trying to believe that your fantasy mattered. You were there for less than a week's time and at most ten days; she would never care for you, and we don't care about anyone but ourselves. I'll make sure she lives just long enough to get the shard. To stop your whining, I may just kill her to spare me from more when you beg me not to mark up her skin.

"I felt like I did care, I felt -"

You were under Kitsune influence. You felt nothing but a dream, and to think otherwise is a fool's errand. You're the fool, always the fool. She doesn't care about you any longer and you never cared about her. If either of you somehow do, I'll make sure to take action and correct that.

A memory swam before his eyes, pushed there by the Darkness in a swiftly brutal punishment. Emma's face as his fingers closed around her fluttering heart, the warmth evaporating in his hand as she crumpled to the ground. Her eyes gazing at him with shock, and hurt, and an intensity that made him think she might have felt -

Remember what happens?

The crush and pop bringing him pleasure that flooded his veins, feeding the black hole within him. The revulsion of feeling anything akin to delight as the life in her eyes faded. Crumpling the drawing, he shoved it roughly into his pocket.

Remember how good it felt?

Killian could not escape the cackle that rose in him, the Dark One's maniacal giggles escaping his own lips.

There you are. Remember that she was wrong. You can't defeat me, you can't control me. I am you, and you are only an extension of me.

He did not think of the party or return to the cave, spending the evening awake and somewhere far apart from any other soul, as he'd done before Emma had become a part of his routine.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Emma sat at the ornate table, Phillip and Aurora sitting to her left around the circle, while Maleficent, Zorro, Lilly and Isaac sat to her right next to an empty chair.

"Should we wait a few more minutes for him?" Maleficent asked, looking at Emma.

Emma shook her head, looking anywhere but the empty chair. Lilly's gaze rested there for a moment before she rolled her eyes.

"Good riddance. If we have a meeting on brooding, we can consult that -"

"Daughter," Maleficent hissed. "Enough."

Emma swallowed hard, trying to settle her reeling mind. It had been almost a whole day, and Emma hadn't seen Killian once. Lilly was in an instant sour temper every time Emma asked if anyone had seen him, and had nothing but negative things to say without saying much at all. Something had happened while she had faced the challenges; she had freed a beast, ended the barrier, released the husks all under the enchanted slumber. The whispers in the village, Lilly's cautious skirting around the topic, and Killian’s outright disappearance made it abundantly clear whatever the blurry outlines of Emma's recollection were, they were important. If she could only remember.

"I first want to apologize for everything that has taken place here, and our roles in it," Maleficent stated, eyes downcast. "We are ashamed of what we did, the extent we were blinded by Cruella, and our hatred led us to make judgements of you, endangering you because of our feud. If I should meet Regina or Queen Snow, I will apologize until the end of my days. They raised a fine young woman to wear the crown."

Emma nodded, the pang of longing in her heart at her mother's mention somehow feeling fresher than before. "Thank you. Have you thought about who will represent you now that Cruella is…?"

"Yes. We have made a decision, Princess, and we feel you and your -" The Dragon King hesitated, eyes shooting to look at the empty chair, before clearing his throat. "We feel you should be privy to it now instead of later. We have elected Aurora and Phillip to what was Isaac and Cruella's status. Isaac maintains strategic planning knowledge that we cannot go without, but he will only be a voice on this council, or a tie breaker."

Emma sat up straighter, smiling slightly. "That's fantastic news!"

Lilly returned her smile, and nodded. "I thought you might approve. I haven't yet asked about Agrabah, but I also figured this council meeting would be a good place to ask -"

Isaac interrupted by laughing loudly, as the Dragon King and Queen went rigid. Confusion swept over Emma at their reaction, Lilly, Phillip, and Aurora mirroring her surprise.

"Yes…" Emma said slowly, watching carefully even as Isaac continued his laughter. "I do need to know about this Agrabah -"

Isaac's laughter became louder and more raucous as he started slapping the arm of his chair.

"Oh, oh this is - This is rich! I can't -" Isaac wheezed.

"Out! Everyone out except the princess." Standing with a roar, Zorro motioned to the doors.

Isaac's laugh carried through the halls as the others filed out, Emma's eyes following them as the doors closed. She fidgeted with her dress, the loose and gauzy cotton styles the Dragons favored soft between her fingers. Absently, she wondered what Killian was wearing.

His shirt is soft, thin cotton, light in the warm air. Between her fingers it feels like it has more substance, but there is a bias there. It may feel like more because it pulls him closer to her, his lips harder pressed against her own, chest so close she can feel the breaths he is not taking to instead take her own away.

"I don't want to lose you," she tells the memory, trying to grip it as tight as she can. It crumbles, no softness or give in her hold.

With the room empty except for the Dragon King and Queen, silence fell heavier than ever.

"So…" Emma began, breaking the stillness. Maleficent jumped, as if burned.

"Did - Er - Your parents didn't tell - Snow Margueryte Whitehart did not tell you of Agrabah?" Maleficent asked, her and Zorro exchanging glances. She laughed, in disbelief. "Of all the strangeness in this world and the realms. For me to be the one to deliver more of your Mother's failures."

"I don't understand -" Emma began, but Maleficent cut her off with a snort.

"Of course you don't understand. Your parents truly let you fall down here blind. Even your guide could not help you with this, as he would have never unleashed the Goblin's rage there." Maleficent sighed, heavily.

"What do you know of your mother's family, princessa?" Zorro asked, his dark eyes fixed on her own.

Emma swallowed hard, her throat still tight. "I don't know much. I only recently learned that she was placed as queen, and only because everyone thought she would die."

Maleficent made a weighing motion with her hands, wincing slightly. "Not… Not exactly. Her father was an amazing inventor, and scientist. As was her mother. The two created the separate realms, using Hol control of time and space, the ancient Elemental magics, and other magic techniques unknown to us. It became clear that after a certain number of these realms were made, some were more stable than others."

Zorro rubbed at his eyes in a wince, as Maleficent began to pace. "Some were given away for the 'greater good', which bought your grandparents and mother their title. What use is a title if you are a poor house with no respect? Your grandfather secretly sold off tiny bubbles of realms that could go unsuspected. One of these is Agrabah."

"Of course, there is the matter of who they turned away in turn," Zorro said, quietly, opening his eyes and steepling his fingers. "And they turned away a request from the Goblins for a pocket realm, because of their agreement with the King of the time. Your father's father, and your grandfather."

Maleficent returned to her seat, looking at Emma with a small bit of what Emma thought might be genuine sympathy.

Emma cocked her head, leaning over the table to lay her face in her hands and steady the sudden shakes that overtook her.

"Why - But what could the Goblins have been up to then? Surely it was nefarious and my grandparents refused on that principle -"

The Dragon King and Queen exchanged unsettled glances, something flickering between them that cast a shadow across their faces.

"That's not important, but what Agrabah became is." Maleficent said, smiling. "It's a black market magic and arcane goods port. You can get in and out with simple magic keys, but the Sultan added another barrier of protection. He wove Djinn magic into the realm’s portal. No threats can get into Agrabah, as anyone who has ill intentions cannot make it through."

"That's - that's incredible!" Emma sputtered. "How did they -"

"Djinn magic is more ancient than our own, and incomparably more powerful than a Kitsune's or Hol. They are the children of the Old Gods, bound with chains of servitude by the hands of their parentage. They could rip apart the cosmos with a blink, but few remain. They grant three wishes to their masters and are then forced to turn to stardust, learning everything and having the greatest magics as part of them, until such time as they can return or are freed to choose their own existence." Maleficent leaned against her husband, smiling gently. "Very few, if any, have actually been freed. The Sultan married his Djinn after he freed her."

"That's… that's absolutely unbelievable. I thought Djinn were at the very least extinct, if not made up entirely," Emma said with wide eyes. "How will I get in?"

"That is what we must discuss," Zorro said, standing. He poured more wine into his goblet, offering some to Emma which she refused.

"Princessa…" Maleficent began, dragging out the word.

"We offer you our key to go to Agrabah and the location," Zorro said calmly, walking to the window so he stood with his back to her.

"Yes, I accept, we -"

"On the grounds that we do not accept terms of allyship, or offer our aid to you in any manner that belies permanence, or expectation of our presence in battle," Zorro finished, swirling his wine.

Emma blinked, unsure of what she had actually heard.

"I am truly sorry we cannot come to your aid at this juncture," Maleficent said calmly, giving Emma's hand a squeeze. Emma ripped it away, glaring. "We are just too weak, and too vulnerable. We've voted not to reveal ourselves until we have rebuilt and have weighed our place in the scheme of this war.

"I saved you!" Emma hissed out, rubbing her tightening chest. "I freed you! You owe me a debt of enormous magnitude!"

"We owe you a great deal for saving us, this is true," Zorro said, walking back to the table to stand behind Maleficent. "But we must place the continued longevity of our species under the lens of time - the Goblins are a fierce foe. We must place our bets where there is the least risk."

"It is not to say we will not come should you need our aid, but that it is understandable that our situation is precarious and volatile. Should you call, we will try." Maleficent nodded with a smile.

Emma wished Killian was there, her mouth dry and tears threatening to spill over her burning eyes. She swallowed hard.

"I suppose there is no debating with you on this, or changing your current decision," Emma rasped out as her throat closed.

"No," Maleficent said sadly. "No there is not."

"I accept your terms," Emma whispered, standing and leaving without any other words.

As soon as the doors closed, Lilly was there with a mask of fury.

"I promise Emma, I will show up if you fight. My parents may not be willing to declare it, but I declare myself -"

"Lilly, I just…" Emma let out a sigh, before coughing. "I'm really tired. I just can't think straight right now. I can't -" Lilly looked concerned, helping Emma as she began to cough harder, her body shaking. Phillip and Aurora were suddenly there too, as Emma felt herself struggling. "I'm alright, I'm fine. I just didn't sleep well, please -"

"Princess, we the Kitsune will be there, by Fiore," Aurora soothed, Phillip nodding.

Lilly cut in, her voice raised as Emma tried to push her way through to the waiting sunlight of the terrace. "And by Ifrit's horn, I swear Mushu and I -"

"Stop, just, stop -" Emma rasped, bursting out into the sunshine with a stumble, directly into Killian.

He grunted, looking down at her. He seemed as exhausted as she felt, his jaw tensed and his annoyance clear. Pushing herself up as he looked at her with growing irritation, Emma wondered briefly why everyone seemed to be angry with her.

"You taste like the sweetest of wines." His voice reverberated through the skin below her temple, before his lips met hers again.

They broke apart, and he stared at her with warmth, her heart beating faster.

It became increasingly harder to breathe, and she wobbled, unable to fully stand. When she reached for him, he took a step back, his nose wrinkling in a way that made the burn in her chest taper into an ache.

"I'm preparing the ship, did you get the coordinates for this Alibaba?" Killian spat at her, and Emma flinched slightly as she stood. His eyes widened, her fear seemingly upsetting him further, before turning to slits of ice.

"I - Agrabah - Yes, not yet but I -"

"Then GET them, instead of stumbling into the only one of us doing actual work!" His face contorted into an expression of hatred as he yelled, Emma trying not to flinch away again. His hands balled into fists, a snarl on his lips. "It's literally you and I on that mish-mash excuse of a vessel, but yes, attend another meeting, Princess. I'm happy to do all the work, sailing and God knows whatever else crops up -"

"Hey!" Lilly made her way over to them, rubbing Emma's back gently. "Let me go with you then. I'll help." Lilly looked at Emma, who in turn glanced at Killian, smiling at him softly. His expression and vehement glare at Lilly wiped her smile away, her hands beginning to shake as she frowned.

"Why would I ever let you of all creatures on this rock, in any realm, on my vessel?" he growled. Lilly took a step back, confused. His voice grew louder, and angrier. "You are a spoiled, brash, easily manipulated, inexperienced, and underwhelming brat with no loyalty to anything but your own scaly hide. You can fly now because the Princess freed you; do that instead - And if you feel inclined, take my advice to better the world by soaring straight into a volcano."

"Killian!" Emma admonished, looked at him with a mix of shock, anger, and wide eyed upset.

"I -" he began, looking as if he was going to round on her too, before dropping his shoulders, and spitting on the ground. "Sorry. This - I'm in a bad temper. I just want to get there, and finish out my services with you. Thank the Gods that this Agra-blah is supposedly only a handful of days away," he said pointedly to her, and Emma saw his jaw muscles twitching.

"Oh," she breathed out. Her chest hurt, and she rubbed against the skin there as her throat constricted painfully. "I didn't… You don't have to feel obligated to serve me as if you were my knight, or… Listen, let's talk about this later. I don't think that decision should be made like this."

"I made you a promise to finish this out," he said simply, turning away from them to look at the ship. "I think it's best that I let you seek better companions and counsel once we get there."

"I guess it's also better that Lilly not come then," Emma whispered, her voice going hoarse, breathing harder. She turned to Lilly, who was glaring at Killian with darkened eyes. "I'm sorry, I didn't -"

"No, Emma. It's okay. It's not your fault or burden to bear other's weaknesses," Lilly spat, and Killian spun around, looking feral.

"Whoa!" Emma stepped between them, confused. Her voice was strained, but she coughed, clearing her throat. "Did something happen? What is going on with you two, come on -"

"Nothing!" both of them snarled, Killian ripping away from her to stalk back toward the island. Lilly grunted as he passed in acknowledgement and disdain.

"I feel like I am missing something big," Emma said after a moment of watching him go. "I know you all keep saying that no one remembers what happened in the rites, but I can't help but feel -"

Lilly let out a dark laugh, without any mirth. "Trust me. It's better you stop asking, and accept that it's all forgotten. Especially now."

Emma's chest burned, the cold autumn chill in her lungs almost overwhelming as she coughed, the prevailing feeling that she had lost something important and precious beyond measure.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Killian could not hear himself think, the raucous and jarring noise of the Darkness growing worse as he tried to keep himself together. It had tripled its efforts as soon as he had agreed that it was right; he should stay away from the princess, with the added measure of his removal entirely once she settled into Agrabah.

THE SHARD, WE NEED THE SHARD YOU USELESS -

"I don't need anything from her, remember?" he seethed, and let the barbs of it lash through him. "Your bloody words, not mine."

The Darkness howled, doubling its effort to break him. Lilly bore the brunt of his pain with her ridiculous request, his rage sputtering out when Emma looked at him like she had when they had fallen into this world, so long ago. Her questioning and tremulous look disarmed him, the cool air growing colder as any softness he had once worked for died in her emerald eyes.

He felt sick, and maybe he was. He did not need to sleep, to eat, to have moments of silence or sanity. He did not require them to survive in the hellish state of inward decay the Darkness called this immortality, and did not need companionship outside of its preferred hateful cohabitation. The moments of having quiet, of waking to listen only to whispers instead of shrieks as Emma's breathing marked the passage of time had been a reprieve of clarity that now crippled him in their preciousness. Holding feelings like this from the Darkness as it tore him apart, he wished that he could die.

The call of his name relit the hatred for his predicament, which grew exponentially when he saw who dared to utter it.

"Killian, I need a moment. We seek passage to Agrabah, because -"

"I just told the Dragon Princess in no uncertain terms to fuck off, and you, you both, of all the parties on this wretched pile of sand believe I should play ferry?" He grinned with malice, and Chihiro straightened with a gulp, Haku behind her showing no change as his steely olive eyes saw more than Killian could protect from.

"We don't ask for you or ourselves, Dark One," Haku stated with annoyance. His gaze shifted, and Killian turned to follow it, finding it resting on Emma. She was sitting, rubbing her solar plexus, and clearing her raspy throat on the end of the docks with her feet dipped in the water. "The princess is displaying the early stages of an illness born of poisoning within the dream state - a poisoned heart, specifically."

Killian laughed, the look of surprise on Chihiro's face making the situation even more amusing.

"You mean to tell me that you now care about the well-being of the woman you sent to death?" He felt his grin widen into something crooked, the Darkness in his veins crackling with power.

"You don't understand, please -" Chihiro bowed her head slightly, begging him to listen, even as Haku stood absolutely unchanged in his demeanor. Everything in Killian screamed for him to be broken, for Killian to deal a blow that caused visible damage to the Dragon.

"We are not without care for the hands that freed us," Haku intoned. "The princess, she is important to you. We offer this in reconciliation for what came to pass."

Carding a hand over his face and through his hair, Killian laughed incredulously.

Chihiro wrung her hands, her lip between her teeth, eyes cast down. "I know it won't undo our wrongs, but if Emma is ill, if the symptoms she is having are linked to what we believe them to be, she will need special care that only a healer from this island can provide. You will be too far away by the time it progresses -"

"The part where we are gone, and far away from all of you accursed creatures is the only thing in that statement I give a sodding fuck about. Who knows how you will poison us should we fall for your airs again," Killian hissed, and Haku rolled his eyes.

"Please, my lord, I am begging you for your lady's and my future Queen's wellbeing," Chihiro bowed lower, prostrating herself. "Did something dark touch her while she dreamt?"

Killian felt every part of him constrict, his lungs unable to find air.

"Killian!" Emma choked out, her heart warm in his palm, the way it fluttered and beat out of control as his fingers bent against his will. Her wheeze at his sudden tightening grip broke him -

You can always be broken again and again, and then again, vessel.

"How would I know if the princess was under threat in your rituals? I know Cruella was lurking, amongst several dozen hungry spirits seeking to hurt her - but yes," he growled menacingly, eyes flashing, "I suppose any manner of things could have had a dark touch on the princess."

"Please, I know you were there with her in her dreams. The Spirits of those who could not return have told us of the strength in your many lives together. We know you had feelings for each other, and we respect your decision to not follow that path -"

Killian bristled, his jaw tight as he ground his teeth. They all knew. He had to get away from this island before Emma found out the truth.

"But, if something dark hit her heart, it's like the story of the ancient princesses of Arendelle. Where the Queen of Ice accidentally froze her eldest daughter's mind, giving her greater mastery of the freezing element. She froze the mind of each of her children, and they their own, all but her seventh daughter, Ilsa. Ilsa fell in love with a Merman of the Southern Isles. A. At the time, it was forbidden to marry outside of a tribe, let alone race. Ilsa refused to take her ice magic, and ran away against her mother's wishes…"

Killian barked out another laugh, rolling his eyes. "Does your fairy-tale have a point?"

"The Ice Queen touched Ilsa's heart, gripped it actually, plucking it from her chest. She performed the ice ritual, but while holding her daughter's heart, a small bit of ice fell on it," Chihiro said, sadly. "The mind can be changed, and convinced that it is alright." She looked at Killian as if she could see through him to the part that felt only the deepest melancholy hearing her tale, her gaze piercing. "The heart knows when something is wrong."

Killian felt a chill run up his spine. Not able to stop himself, he asked the question he needed to know the answer to. "What happened to her?"

"When a heart is touched by strong magic on any plane, fueled by stronger emotions, it can fall prey to that magic strangling it." He knew the answer, even as she continued with clear sorrow. "The princess froze to death. They believed True Love’s Kiss would heal her, but upon her dismissal of his affection, the Merman swam as deep into the sea as he could, never to be seen again. She melted eventually, some say, to join him."

"I believe it could be another type of poisoned heart," Haku began, but Killian was reeling. He cut Haku off, furious at everything on the island, at what this could mean, and for believing any of these serpent's treacherous lies. Emma was fine.

"Enough."

Remember the Dark One, she said. Maybe the silly little princess remembers you quite literally breaking her heart? Is that enough for you?

"Let us at least give you both some herbal remedies, and medicine. Please, for Emma's sake -" Chihiro begged, looking absolutely terrified.

"For Emma’s sake?" Killian felt as if anger was ripping him apart, something that wasn't dark at all tearing at him to listen while the Darkness collided with it in turn, screaming at him to make them pay. "Enough! You took all her magic, risked her death, risked her sanity, and dare to say her sake? She's weak because of you. Directly because of you! Enough! I have heard enough of your lies, don't even bother. Bugger off."

"If they hit a blow to her heart, she'll die!" Chihiro sobbed. "Do you want that guilt? That you knew she was dying but like a coward, watched her waste away? Don't you care at all?"

They are blaming you for that silly girl's cough, but surely your closeness and false feelings for the princess didn't cause her injury! Imagine her dying because of you here in the real world. What a pity, truly. Another name on that long list of yours…

Liam flashed before his eyes as the Darkness pushed, numbing every sensation except his anger.

"I find that I actually don't, any longer." Killian shrugged, the crooked smile back as he adjusted to the chaos in his mind. "Fuck off, both of you, and don't come near me again."

Chihiro pulled at his cloak and he wrenched away, continuing onto the ship. There the Darkness talked in barbs or crawled under his flesh, the lack of rest pressing into him like sharpened points against his temples. The mundane task of readying the ship as Emma gathered the coordinates provided little comfort, but made the time pass.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Another day passed as the Kitsune and Dragons helped with coordinates, stocking their ship, and providing them an abundance of awards for breaking the barrier. Casks of spiced cider, a wheel of smoked cheese, dried meats rubbed in herbal salts, and satchels of a pepper spiced chocolate sat in the galley, while Emma was gifted an emerald bangle, fine dresses, and silken undergarments. They were also gifted with good down pillows and a beautiful silk divan patterned in roses that Emma could not wait to spread over the bunk.

Haku and Chihiro had brought her the strangest gifts as they departed, despite Emma's promises that their betrayal was forgiven. Chihiro seemed relieved by this, but still upset, while Haku looked unworried and absolutely aloof in totality about his roles in the rites. Both used hushed tones as they explained what things were, clearly trying not to be noticed by someone.

The gift they gave was a pressed ball of a ground paste, dried to make it easier to preserve. It reminded Emma of a softer and denser version of a gift she had been given by a courtier, a fragrant fizzing thing to place within one's bathing waters.

"This is for eating, though," Chihiro whispered conspiratorially. "It is very bitter, but you must take a bite of it three times a day for seven days. Morning, afternoon, and evening. If the taste is too much, gargle with sea water before and after."

"Alright. Thanks?" Emma tried not to sound too perplexed, but Haku stopped her with a firm hand before she could turn from them.

"Princess, that medicine is as powerful as it gets. I was saving it to attempt to break Chihiro from the rites before your arrival." For once Haku looked momentarily ashamed, casting his eyes to look at her, his mouth downturned at the corners. "I know that what I have done cannot be undone, but I owe you this much: Do not let the Dark One know that you are taking that medicine."

"I tell Killian everything," Emma said sharply, and Chihiro shook her head, hands covering her lips. "Not telling him about this, that sounds -"

"I know how it sounds, but you must not. He believes our aim is to hurt you." Chihiro shook her head. "I would have gone willingly to the life of a husk, if not for you. It was my pride, honor, and duty. You saved not only me from this sentence, but all those who could have fallen prey to Cruella's plans."

Chihiro took Emma's hand, placing it over her heart.

"I give you one last blessing, as this medicine will not heal you completely until your magic returns in full." Wind curled around them, carrying soft snowflakes that had begun to fall. Emma breathed out a puff of air, feeling her lungs loosen as Chihiro dropped her hand. "I have given you a soot sprite charm. It will bind to you, and try to stay any illness you suffer with charcoal sprites made from our oldest pines. Should you see soot marks, you will know it is working."

"Um, thanks I guess, but I'm sure this is just a cold. The change of the seasons, stress, traveling, having no healing magic -"

Haku interrupted Emma's list with a grunt. "No. This is - I wish we were allowed to go with you so we could treat you if need be. The Dark One has refused us." Emma tried to hide her surprise, lips parting in shock. "This is as good as we can give. If you see dark smudges, know that the soot sprites are working. We don't wish ill tidings on you. You have changed our minds, my mind, which is no easy task. You must stay alive, so we can come to your aid against the Goblin menace."

"Wow." Emma swallowed, and Haku bowed his head. "Thank you. Truly."

"No, Princess." Chihiro smiled, "Thank you. We have a future because of you. We have a chance to see a world that might allow us to create life." She blushed deeply, and next to her Haku coughed as redness creeped across his own face. "We owe you everything and more. You must be well."

Emma nodded, eyes misting as she watched the two walk away from the dock. Lilly approached, and Emma began crying in earnest, hugging Lilly tightly.

"Are you sure I can't stow away, or meet you there?" Lilly held her tightly, and Emma shook her head. "I just - what if something happens to you? What if you leave the barrier and Nil -"

"We'll be fine. I'll find a way to safely send word to you when we find what we need there." Emma pulled away, gripping her friend's shoulders tightly. "You… You are like a sister to me, equal only to my friend Ruby. Thank you for everything, my dear friend."

Lilly laughed, throwing her head back. When she'd stopped, she grinned through happy sobs. "I'm the shittiest sister you could have ever been stuck with, but I am glad you think of me that fondly."

"Hush up, you dingbat."

"It's pronounced Dragon, you uncultured elitist Fae snob."

Emma laughed, coughing slightly as they hugged again.

"Princess!" Killian shouted, his voice gruff. "Any bloody time now, thanks!"

"Goodbye, Lilly." Emma let go of her friend, but Lilly held fast. "What?"

"Just… Killian went through a lot to save you. I don't know why he refuses to care for you after proving it, but you deserve to know that he… You deserve better." Lilly looked at her feet, mumbling the last part of his confession.

"Wait, what? Lilly, I -"

"Princess! Now or never!" Killian yelled.

"One of the most ancient magics of all, that came before even we Dragons, is the need to be close to someone. To… To care about them." Lilly pulled away, cupping Emma's cheek. She leveled her gaze directly into Emma's. "Just be sure to share closeness with someone worthy of you." Emma didn't have time to reply before Lilly waved goodbye, launching herself into the air in her sleek Dragon form. Emma wandered confused back to the ship, unsure why she felt nothing but dread.

They set off out of the now fog dense cove, sliding through the thick white blanket that would conceal the isle from now on. Emma looked out on the mist as it dissipated into a gray cloudy day, the sea ahead dark peppered with small patches of the sun's rays. The moment they met the open sky, she watched Killian relax slightly at the wheel.

"It's where I feel most at peace. I could stare at the sea all day. The only thing as beautiful is you smiling like that at me."

"You're easy to smile at, Killian. One might even go as far as saying easy on the eyes." His amused look of false shock made her snort.

Batting his eyelashes at her innocently, her laughter made his grin grow wider. "One might say? Which one, hmm? You?"

"Perhaps."

"Is everything alright?" she asked, and his eyes flicked toward her then back to the sea. "Killian, I guess, I mean… I know things aren't alright, but I don't understand why, or why no one would tell me what happened -"

"Because it doesn't bloody well matter what happened, and nothing happened, so stop talking about it. Stop asking about it, just accept that you will never need to know!" Killian shouted as he advanced on her, his jaw clenched and eyes bloodshot.

"Something is wrong, I'm not stupid. I can tell that something did happen." Emma raised her chin, and his hands reached forward, fingers going tense until he raised both in frustration. "You're different, you aren't -"

"Are you sure that you aren't stupid, Princess?" he growled out, beginning to pace in front of her. In the overcast dim, it was easier to see the Darkness as it poured off of him like overflowing steam atop a bubbling cauldron, trailing his movement. Emma let her eyes widen, but quickly covered the rest of her hurt with the anger that followed after. "You rush into danger, you have no self preservation, you trust anyone -"

"I used to trust you," Emma interrupted, trying to catch her breath. "The Darkness is overwhelming you like before. I can help you, we can beat it back again. This isn't you."

"It definitely is, Princess. It isn't the Darkness that is pressing questions or throwing itself into danger. I'm sorry that isn't something you accept, just like how you won't accept that nothing happened in those bloody rites. Nothing! But you keep asking, keep bringing it up, trying to find something that isn't there. I used to think you were intelligent, how's that?"

"To hell with you, Killian. Don't come to the bunk tonight. I don't want you anywhere near me with this sort of -"

"I wasn't planning to," Killian cut her off, with vehemence. "I find that sleeping next to you made me lose the sharpness of my acuity. You will sleep there in the bunk. I will maintain my post."

"Good!" Emma shouted at him, stomping away. "Just great. More room for me to spread out. Good!"

"It is good, it's better than good!" he yelled back, throwing up his hands.

"Fine! Shut up about it then!" Emma shouted in reply.

"Fine!"

Emma's voice echoed up from the stairs below. "Fine!"

The door slammed, and quiet fell at last.

Emma laid down, wondering why she was crying. Partially in anger, but there was something else that made her want to yell at Killian. It sat heavily, dangling itself just out of reach in her mind as if the answer was on the tip of her tongue. He was absolutely out of line, completely disrespectful, every line they had created to make their unstable alliance work torn to shreds by his actions. Worse still was that there was no way to get through to him; he was absolutely lost to her in this mood. Emma screamed into her pillow, for what felt like hours, until her voice was raw. Sleep came with difficulty as her lungs burned, her head swimming with questions.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The morning light hit Emma's face, waking her from a fitful sleep. Her dreams were plagued with strange moments of intense deja vu or scraps of nightmares that made her jump awake. Her body felt sore from her coughing when she wanted to scream, her throat still achingly sore. She was in a way glad, her wheezing gasps had not alerted Killian to her distress like her screaming might have. He most likely wouldn't have bothered anyway with how awful he was being, but she wasn't ready to face him regardless. Grabbing the medicine Chihiro and Haku had given her, she stood stretching. She poured a bowl of porridge from the crock in the small cooking station they called a galley, heading up on deck to eat.

Killian sat near the wheel, choosing not to regard her as she moved toward the front of the ship, beginning to try swallowing porridge down her raw throat. She eyed the medicine with curiosity, peeling back the careful wrapping of waxy paper. Taking a small bite, she turned and retched over the side immediately, the bitterness in her mouth overwhelming.

"Swan, er… Princess, are you alright?" Killian walked toward her as she swished porridge around in her mouth to cover the taste. "Did you lose your sea legs, lass? Or is it just your wee bit of a bug you've been working on losing since we left the island?"

"Now you make conversation?" Emma rasped, her voice half a hoarse whisper, and half a shrill hiss of uneasy breathing. The medicine had eased her burning throat where it had touched, but she had swallowed so little. "If you must know, I am feeling unwell. I was given this by Chihiro; it is supposed to help my throat feel less like I've swallowed broken glass and boiling tar."

Killian’s eyes flashed a steely blue, his face souring. Emma remembered Chihiro's warning, shivering a bit as he stalked toward her. The Darkness poured off of him in waves that made her feel more nauseated as she turned her back to him. Taking a large bite of porridge, she bit into the medicine only for it to be pulled from her hands by Killian, who wrenched it away before launching it into the waves.

"Killian!" Emma tried to shout, but her throat was tight, fighting the mixture of rice, milk, and bitter herbs that made her gag. She swallowed hard, panting in short breaths. "... Why…?"

"Are you completely stupid? Absolutely, completely, and utterly moronic to a fault?" he hissed, and Emma pressed herself against the shiprail while her knees buckled. "Do you crave dying, you brat? That's it, isn't it? You want to fail everyone and simply can't wait to throw yourself into the next disaster, for hope that it will -"

"N-no!" Emma managed to groan through her chest burning, even as her throat's soreness began to ease. Her bowl clattered into pieces on the sun lit wood.

"No? Oh that's precious, truly Princess, so precious. You took who even knows what from the two that poisoned me, and sent you - sent… Who tried to hurt you, and you thought, 'gee, maybe I'll eat this?' is that it?" He gripped her wrist, eyes cold and mouth twisted. "Do you know what you made me - Do you think I want your blood on my hands, even by your own lack of caution? Well? Do you!?"

"I might do the same! If someone I loved was in danger, I would be desperate." Her throat was still tight, as she spoke in bursts of raspy words. "I don't know if I can say I wouldn't do the same. We both are fine, and so are they!"

"You think we're both fine?" Killian screamed, his hand grew tighter around her bones, her yelp turned into a squeak.

"Killian -" Emma whimpered, trying to pull on his fingers to loosen their grip on her. "Please stop, please -"

"Why would you trust them?" he roared, his grip tighter, and the Darkness pressing on her, pushing itself against the sliver of magic she could feel. "What is wrong with you, why can't you just -" Emma whimpered again, his eyes meeting her own.

Something in her mind pulled free, her fear turning to fight. Her chest felt as if it might explode from its wound tightness. All of her burned, her body beginning to shake as she reached up to smack him.

"You're hurting me!" Emma wheezed, her bones grinding in his harsh grasp. His other hand caught hers, her limp wrist not much of a threat even as her fingers met his cheek.

The Darkness receded around him, leaving her gasping while Killian let go of her immediately.

He looked wild, crunching the broken bowl under his boots, staring at her as she cradled where he had dug in his fingers. She watched him run a shaky hand over his face while attempting to catch his breath, the short puffs bright in the air.

"What is wrong with you?" she bit out, rubbing at her wrist. He looked genuinely horrified, truly upset, before she pushed past him to head back down below.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Time stretched indefinitely, unbroken by their need to avoid each other at all costs. He tried to make a small offering of an apology by way of a sleeping draught, but Emma fought every urge to slosh it out over his head. If she wasn't as tired as she had been feeling, she couldn't say it was off the table. She was furious with him. Absolutely livid, her body actually going warm with rage at the mere thought of his actions. It was as if they were back at the beginning of their forced comradery, his springs stretched to snapping. Throwing up her hands again, she flopped back into the bunk, turning to scream into a pillow.

Or attempt to, her throat protesting even the smallest of noises. Her body hurt, coughs rattling her entirely, and her throat was still tight, leaving her with taking painful, wheezing breaths. Her time was broken into periods of rage, exhaustion, sickness, and avoiding anywhere on the ship she wasn't alone. Killian had been obviously distressed when she was near him, the Darkness itself curling around him like some sort of chain when she managed to catch glimpses of it. He didn't speak when she slammed together what she needed, only pretended to be ignoring her while they both cast quick looks at each other. Several times it sounded like he might start to talk, but he swallowed hard or closed his lips into a firm line instead.

The sleeping draught he placed on the table with no note or explanation meant he had been in the Captain’s quarters, which also meant he had been there when she hadn't or as she slept. Her dreams had been haunted by him increasingly in ways that made no sense to her; how mortifying if a moan had slid past her lips? Or if her choked screaming from nightmares had been heard, and he had seen her begging for his help? If he had come in when she was having one of these many fits, and that's why he was offering the draught… Emma's cheeks flamed at the thought. It didn't help that the dreams were beyond realistic: Emma could feel the details more and more, as if she was there.

And then there was… Her anger turned itself inside out in her chest, still heated but in a different way. There was the strange wonderfulness that was Killian’s appearances. At first it had been unexpected, but as these dreams progressed further he became a familiar fixture until he morphed into something more - someone more. More often now she dreamed of his closeness and the warmth of him, the feel of his large hands against her skin, his strength physically as he tickled her before stealing a kiss from her lips -

His lips. How could she be thinking of Killian’s lips when he had hurt her and degraded her like that? Why couldn't she dream of him as he was, an asshole with no feelings but for himself? He hadn't changed, and if she believed he might, his fits of rage made it clear she was wrong. That medicine had helped with her cough and eased the pressure in her chest after an hour or so of swallowing it down, but now it was lost to the sea. Emma wished that it wasn't gone as she rubbed her aching chest.

Killian knocked on the door, and she scowled even as her anger twisted itself into knots. Standing, she brushed down her skirts, the sudden shift making her dizzy for a moment. Taking a sharp breath, Emma caught herself on the desk until the spots in her vision cleared. When she opened the door to answer, Killian was walking away and turned to look at her. Emma noticed he looked tired, hair more wild and in desperate need of a trim, stubble left to grow into a scruffy beard, and his body language almost unsure instead of feral.

He stared at her without speaking until she moved to cross her arms in annoyance.

"I took the maps from my desk. Agrabah is five or so days away pending fair winds," he stated after clearing his throat.

Emma nodded, turning to go back into the cabin. He should have left a note, not that she wouldn't have ripped it up and left it back outside the door, but he didn't need to talk to her so she had to see his stupid face with his stupid blue eyes -

"Swan, wait!" Killian stood in the doorway, Emma sitting to listen with a bored face. Her heart raced. He walked towards her looking at her with curiosity. "You still look ill, are you sure you're -"

"Don't start to worry about me now, since you threw that medicine away," Emma snapped. His face fell, before becoming angry.

"They poisoned me. There is no way -"

"Yeah, they did that to you, the immortal one. Not me. They told me to avoid you because of this, to hide that medicine - which worked, by the way - from you. I trust Chihiro. I trust Lilly. I don't trust you like I used to." Her eyes narrowed at him, widening only briefly at the shocked, sad silent nod he gave in reply before retreating. "Why don't you just go."

He stopped briefly at the door, seemingly struggling to speak.

"As you wish, Princess. I just... I'm sorry."

When the door closed behind him, Emma felt her stomach drop. Taking the sleeping draught's bottle in one hand as Killian had taught her, she popped the cork and took a long swig.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Don't blame me, Dearie.

It was another of the Darkness’s long hisses in Killian’s ear as the days ground on. A few days had turned into two weeks due to poor winds and heavy snow. The sea was deep and cold where there was at least no ice to cut through, but the chill in the air was nothing to Emma's cold shoulder. It physically hurt to hear her whimper Nil's name in her nightmares knowing what they entailed, his own sleep non-existent as the Darkness raked him across coals.

You don't need sleep, you great imbecile. You have grown soft, so fucking soft.

He grunted in reply, looking out over the waves. Snow dusted him as he moved around, pushing it off his deck as he tried to think without the Darkness interrupting.

Emma hated him, currently. There was no doubt of it with the way she regarded him, and how he had lost his bloody mind. The Darkness was pressing hard against him, exploiting his lack of sleep, his weaknesses, and his fears with ease again. He had told her that he wanted to be free of her, then gone on to catch himself before striking her, and then he had almost broken her wrist -

You should have gone and broken it. She deserves to know how much you need to be freed of her. Get the shard and leave her, get over your fear of her eventual grizzly death. She's lucky to have made it this far.

The part of himself Killian hid away from the Darkness had bloomed as he and Emma lost themselves in dreams. Now he escaped to its warmth frequently knowing the Darkness could not follow, to escape it for brief moments. Thinking of Emma dying, thinking of her being sick, thinking of the very idea that he could be the cause of some 'poisoned heart' - the worry could exist in the tiny space before his prison warden demanded he stop caring.

He couldn't stop caring. Everything reminded him that she wasn't his in the waking world - that he couldn't - that the temptation to comfort her could be so easily given into if he simply laid next to her, throwing caution to the winds the Darkness churned out.

The sleeping draught had been a peace offering and a salve on his breaking will, an attempt to prevent her from whimpering his name in her sleep as his sanity waned. Hearing her beg for him to help her, the way her whimpers of Nil's name made him irrationally emotional, or the sighs he had only heard her make when his tongue moved past the seam of her soft lips were too much. The Darkness tortured him with the noises, his ears picking them up from across the ship.

Emma hadn't taken it until his cowardly failure at apologizing to her, sleeping in an almost eerie silence for hours. She woke only to relieve herself and quickly eat, ignoring him as if he didn't exist. She disappeared from the ship as if she was only a ghost. It was lonely, but better than allowing himself to get too close to her again.

It must have been lonely for her too. As her sleeping increased, she seemed to seek him out more. Being in his presence wasn't enough, and soon she was talking to him again. He ignored her, which made her more persistent.

"How's your hand?" she asked, still trying to make conversation. He grunted, and she came closer as he hid his wrapped palm. "Stop, let me -"

"It's fine," Killian growled, but she only rolled her eyes, carefully undoing the bandage.

"You really shouldn't let it go more than a few days without healing of some sort. You’ll get an infection," Emma said quietly.

"What," he said tersely, annoyed by the softness of her touch and the way she treated him with gentle concern. "Worried I'll die, Princess?"

Her lips became a thin line at his sarcasm, and she huffed. "Don't be an ass. I do still worry about you, even when..." Emma trailed off, the corners of her mouth turned down.

He blinked, and scowled at her. "Don't. Save it for yourself and your problems."

"Killian," she sighed, her breath catching a bit so that she had to clear her throat. "My problems are yours too. We are in this together. Besides, you are such a child when you're sick. Remember how you were laid up for almost two whole weeks after catching some port fever? You were so miserable, the crew and I could barely stand you. You're lucky that I was so patient with you as a pirate."

He couldn't breathe. She remembered.

They had been together on a ship, him a pirate and her a waif he truly had lov -

No. No you didn't. Don't you dare even think that. You know that you were manipulated - you feel nothing.

He watched her hum to herself as his palm met the air, the wound foul smelling and swollen red. She looked at it with disdain, but he felt her magic begin to pull away the swelling and the heat, soothing slightly before coming to a sudden stop.

"That's… I don't understand, my magic should be working?"

Emma blinked up at him, and he noticed she was sweating slightly, her hand shaking as it held his.

"Are you alright Princess?" Killian asked carefully. "I haven't been sick around you, and you seem… confused. Er, what were you saying -"

"I don't know…" she whispered, the trembling increasing as her brows pinched together. "I just, I'm so tired. I don't…" She swayed, holding her palm to her forehead. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm so out of it, and I feel tired to my bones. Then my magic isn't working, I just…"

"You're probably just reacting to that draught still, hallucinating all sorts of things." He turned away, refusing to look at her for too long. Rewrapping his hand, he heard her hum in agreement, the noise turning into a raspy wheeze, and then a coughing fit. "Come eat something then go lay down again or have a respite -"

Emma collapsed, falling sideways onto the deck, hitting hard against the wood. Killian was at her side in a matter of seconds as he cursed, carefully pulling her into his arms to cradle her. Her cheeks were bright red, far more than just sun coloring up close against yellowish pale skin, her forehead radiating heat when he laid the back of his hand to it. How had he not noticed, how could he have not seen how sick she was?

He had been avoiding her every moment he could; ignoring her, pretending to not hear her coughing, shrugging off her need for more sleep, not wearing a coat in the chill, her lack of appetite -

Killian let out an even longer string of expletives, a small gash opening on her temple. Helping her down to the bunk, she thanked him in a barely there whisper before almost immediately going to sleep.

Emma did not wake for hours, his worry evolving into something much greater. She was sluggish, asked for water with a strained voice, coughing herself back into a restless sleep. She seemed to deteriorate quickly, her usual energy replaced by exhaustion, leaving her winded from climbing the stairs or ladder to start. By the time they approached the coordinates of the portal, she could barely pull herself out of his bunk, and her cough had become much more violent.

Killian found it harder than ever to be in her presence, her pleas for him to comfort her too tempting. He instead made a clear cut schedule that primarily focused on caring for her while she slept, with a few quick checks during the day.

The Dragons had given them some meat, and he boiled it down over a small flame until it was broth, feeding it carefully to the princess as she attempted to fight sleep.

"Please, Killian, please don't let Cruella take you from me. I need you here, I need you. Don’t let her hurt you, I can't keep Milah's memory alive …"

Killian blinked, his hand almost dropping the spoon that he held. She couldn't be remembering, it was impossible. Emma let out another series of fitful gasps, trying to bring air into her lungs. Her back arched, the fabric of her shift shifting to reveal blackness under her left breast. Pushing her neckline aside, he looked down in shock.

Black fingerprints and a black palm mark wrapped around the top of her chest, as if a dark, sooty, hand had burned a brand into her solar plexus.

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digitaldreams0801 · 5 years

Text

Aisha Profile

Name: Aisha Imani Faraji/Layla Sicily Akua

Age: 17 (season two)

Gender: Female (she/her)

Birthday: June 15

Sexuality: Bisexual Polyamorous

Magic: Water

Astrological Sign: Chimera

Status: Princess

Occupation: Student

Affiliation: Alfea College for Fairies, Andros Royal Family

Planet of Origin: Andros

Hobbies: Dancing, lifting weights, archery, swimming, surfing

Family: Teredor Zane Faraji (father), Niobe Amina Faraji (mother), Neptune Bastian Urbina (uncle), Ligea Thana Urbina (aunt), Nereus Evian Urbina (cousin), Tritannus Wade Urbina (cousin), Tressa Cascade Urbina (cousin)

Position in Team: Shaper

Pixie: Piff, Pixie of Dreams

Likes: Freedom, exercise, the outdoors, making new friends, self-expression

Dislikes: Restriction, feeling trapped, loneliness, loss, being pushed against her will

Appearance: Aisha is one of the taller members of the party standing at 5’10” at her full height. She has bright blue eyes the color of the ocean, something that often comes with being a water magi. Her skin is incredibly dark, as is typical for people of Andros. Aisha naturally has ears that appear to be webbed like fins due to her having some mermaid blood. She has significant muscles, making her the most defined out of the girls. Aisha’s arms are particularly muscular, showing how much she has worked to refine her body. She also has impressive abs she doesn’t hesitate to show off. Her hair is long and immensely curly, reaching just below her hips. Her hair is a deep brown color with highlights of red here and there, another show of her Andros heritage. Aisha often wears cropped shirts to show off her muscular figure with shorts, finding them to be easiest to move around in. She prefers to wear tight clothing when not in a cropped shirt and shorts to keep from having any flowy materials to tamper with her maneuverability. Even so, Aisha hates wearing too many layers of tight material, as it reminds her of her past issues with repression.

Personality: Aisha is naturally am ambivert, not being great with talking to others at first but opening up to them more as time goes on. She struggles with making friends since she spent most of her childhood hiding away from people at the request of her parents. Aisha was forced to spend her time alone growing up, and she longed for new friendship despite not having the means to make new connections. She’s not the best at talking to new people, feeling like they have better things to do than worry about her, but she slowly unfolds and starts talking to them. Aisha is shy at first, hiding herself away and refusing to say much until they show a genuine wish to be around her. She fears being left alone and wants to make sure that the person she is with actually means it when they say they want to make a connection with her. Aisha hates being without others even if she pushes them away at first, which she does as a way of protecting herself from being hurt. After she starts to feel more comfortable, she shows how she feels more often, being a bit more cheerful and determined. This side only comes out when she feels fully secure though, meaning not many people have witnessed this side of her. Loss frightens Aisha more than anything else, and she can fall to pieces when she feels that somebody she cares for is threatened, making her break down and go back into old self-destructive habits since she doesn’t know how else to respond. Aisha has horrible trust issues as well and rarely opens up to others. It takes a long time of serious connection for her to be willing to talk to her friends about problems that plague her, as she fears her issues being used against her, as she hates thinking that she could be betrayed. However, once she feels confident in her friends, Aisha gladly shows a side with confidence and determination, never letting herself be swayed. It takes a while to see this side of her due to her hesitant nature when it comes to trusting others.

Background: Aisha was born as the single daughter to the king and queen of the Andros kingdom above the sea. As is tradition on Andros, Aisha was taught how to be the perfect princess from a young age, never being allowed to leave the palace. She was taught by personalized tutors on how to be the optimal lady of the court for when she eventually took over the kingdom. Such was ordered by her father, who wanted Aisha to be the best possible ruler of Andros. She was arranged in a marriage from a young age she never asked for to a noble named Nabu. Nabu and Aisha were friends from a young age, but while they loved each other in a platonic sense, they had no urge to marry one another. Nabu was going through a similar situation to Aisha, and the two supported each other every step of the way. Nabu was the one who encouraged Aisha to start sneaking out of the palace in the first place. Aisha followed his advice and snuck away for the first time when she was eleven. She wandered around the castle town under the name of ‘Layla’, where she met a young girl named Anne who was her age. ‘Layla’ and Anne bonded and became the closest of friends. Anne was running away from a tragedy she didn’t want to explain, merely claiming she wanted a place and a way to be free. Anne taught Aisha how to dance, saying it was the perfect way to express herself. Aisha followed Anne’s advice and found that she had a passion for performing. Aisha and Anne remained close for the next few years until they were both fourteen. Around this point, Aisha realized that she had fallen in love with Anne, and she decided she was going to confess her feelings to her friend. When Aisha arrived at her and Anne’s regular meeting spot, she didn’t see Anne there. Aisha started to wander around as the hours passed by, wondering where her friend could have gone. She ran into an older woman in the town who told Aisha that Anne had passed away in a horrible incident, having been killed by her mother, who had turned out to be abusive. Aisha grieved horribly for her friend, realizing that this was the horrible thing Anne had been running from when they snuck out to dance together. Aisha snuck out to attend Anne’s funeral a few days later, and Anne’s younger brother gave Aisha a note, realizing she had to be the ‘Layla’ Anne had loved so much leading up to her death. The note told Aisha to find the life she had always longed for and that Anne loved her. Anne’s brother told her that the note had been found in his sister’s bed and had been there for a while. Aisha realized that Anne had been trying to confess her love for a while as well but didn’t know how to do so, and she was overcome with grief. After the funeral, Aisha returned to the palace in a state of numbness over the loss. Nabu was the one person who was able to get through to her, and he told her to follow her heart and Anne’s advice. It was time for Aisha to carve a new life for herself of her own wishes and not her parents’. Aisha wiped away her tears and prepared to leave, bidding Nabu farewell. He told her that one day, he would follow her, and if she ever heard of a man by the name of Ophir, he was ready and waiting for her so they could reunite. With that, Aisha waved to Nabu and left the palace behind. She found the Pixie Village, which had been teleporting around to ensure none found its true location, and the pixies took her in after realizing she had a pure heart and needed their assistance. Aisha was the only person who had free access to Pixie Village for many years, and she moved where the village moved. When the pixies were kidnapped after Darkar awakened again, Aisha set out to rescue them. They were the only friends she had now that Anne was dead and Nabu hadn’t yet run away and to repay the kindness she had been given.

Other: Aisha’s father and uncle are twins. Previously, Andros was ruled by one royal family, that being the one above water. However, when the twins were born, territory was divided between Teredor and Neptune, who happened to be one human and one mermaid. In truth, both have half-human and half-mermaid blood, but it manifested itself in different ways for them both. Due to this mermaid blood, Aisha can breathe underwater and has an increased skill with swimming. She knows all about royal practices as well after years of being trained to be the perfect princess, but she does her best to eliminate these habits as a way of rebelling against the way she was raised and expressing herself in a different way.

Position in Team:

Aisha is the shaper of the group. She relishes in challenges and tackles anything difficult that comes her way head-on, never giving up. When others lose hope or struggle to press on, she finds a way to motivate them and urge them into looking on the hopeful side. Sometimes, her pressing on seems like blind optimism, but her words of encouragement keep the group from falling apart at the seams when times get rough, making her vital to the team’s central dynamic.

Dynamics:

Bloom: Aisha and Bloom have a friendly competitive relationship. They're both fans of sports (though Aisha is much more intense in her adoration), and they spend time playing around together every once in a while. Both girls have struggled with loneliness in the past as well and are finally settling into a secure routine now that they have a full group of friends. Due to their mutual understanding of loneliness, they get along well and are able to comfort each other through bad times.

Stella: Stella and Aisha have a surprisingly strong friendship. After suppressing their interests for years to fit into a mold proposed by others, the two are both letting loose at last. Stella and Aisha enjoy playing tennis together in their free time and use it to get rid of pent-up feelings. The two share an interest in dance as well and enjoy dramatically showing off their skills on the dance floor, especially where paired dances are concerned. When with each other, Stella and Aisha are shamelessly free.

Flora: Aisha and Flora are slowly working through their issues of self-worth together even if they're opposites. Flora is calm and a natural pacifist while Aisha is bold and rebellious, but they still mesh perfectly. They are helping each other past their previous problems by encouraging the other to make a new life outside of their inferiority issues and predetermined paths. Aisha is helping Flora out of her shell while Flora aids Aisha through her repressed past.

Musa: After Aisha arrived at Alfea, Musa was the first one to reach out to her. They hit it off nearly immediately, confiding in one another once they got to know each other well enough. Musa helped Aisha find her place as part of the group, and Aisha helped Musa to show how she felt to the world in return. The two have a lovely performing dynamic as well with Musa writing and performing music while Aisha dances to them when they take to the stage side by side.

Tecna: It took Aisha a while to open up to Tecna after she joined the group since they were both the types to stay away from most other people. However, as Aisha found her place as part of the group dynamic, Tecna did her best to reach out to her. They can bond over their issues with their fathers and tend to rant to each other once in a while. Aisha also asks Tecna for help researching ‘Ophir’ every once in a while, praying that one day she’ll get an answer saying Nabu was free.

Roxy: When Roxy first appeared, Aisha was friendly to her, wanting her to feel welcome in the group since she had felt so hesitant and isolated at first. Aisha helped Roxy find her home as part of the Winx group, for which Roxy was immensely thankful. After Roxy’s true heritage came out, Aisha did all she could to help reassure Roxy that she was on the right path despite what others might say, keeping Roxy grounded when the world seemed to be against her, something she remembers fondly years later.

Diaspro: Aisha and Diaspro were easily able to bond due to a common background when they first met. Since they were set up to marry friends from a young age despite not wanting to, they can sympathize with another easily. Diaspro is the first one to get Aisha to open up about her past since she understands the pain Aisha is going through. Even after their arranged marriages are called off, Aisha and Diaspro remain close and spend time together talking about what they will do with their lives now that marriage is off the table.

Sky: Sky and Aisha are able to understand one another just as Diaspro and Aisha can. They talk a lot more than one would expect at a first glance. Aisha helps Sky to get out of his shell to reclaim his life when Sky is unsure of what to do. Aisha doesn’t want him to fall into the same trap of feeling powerless that she once had, and she is ultimately successful in helping Sky find another way of living his life that isn’t solely for other people. Aisha brings out Sky’s rebellious side as well.

Brandon: Brandon’s casual nature helped Aisha to feel welcome as part of the group from the start, as he was happy to reach out to her kindly from the moment she was recruited to join the Winx. Aisha appreciated such greatly, as she wasn’t sure how to approach the boys that hung out with her new companions. Brandon was the primary one to help her find friendship with the other boys, something Aisha remains thankful for even years after the fact. They still talk years later.

Riven: Out of all the boys, Riven is easily the one Aisha gets along with least. He tends to be a bit too snippy for her liking, which can make her highly uncomfortable when he gets sarcastic. However, as time goes on and Riven gets better, Aisha grows to appreciate him more. Even so, she is wary of him when he gets snarky, not wanting to get on his bad side. She tends to keep him at arm’s length, struggling to get over how he was when they first met, but she never shows her hate openly.

Timmy: Timmy was one of the harder boys for Aisha to approach. She could tell he was an introvert and didn’t know how to reach out to him given that she was much the same. Even if they didn’t talk much at first, they were able to bond after a while due to having a common friend group. At one point, Aisha asked Timmy to see if he could find more details regarding Anne’s untimely death, and he happily complied, helping her through her remaining grief over her deceased friend.

Helia: Helia fascinated Aisha from the moment she joined the party, as she wasn’t sure of how to approach him but admired him at the same time. She loved how free he was with expressing himself, even if he was on the shy side. After a while, Aisha started to model her own free expression after Helia’s, and when he noticed, she was promptly embarrassed. However, Helia didn’t ever seem upset with such, instead encouraging her to follow her dreams and saying he would be her no matter what.

Nabu: Nabu and Aisha grew up as best friends and treated each other with immense respect. Both had dreams of making their own places in the world far from squabbles of royalty and nobility. Nabu was the one who encouraged Aisha to leave in the first place, declaring he would always support her and her dreams. When they reunited, both were overjoyed to see one another again, happy as could be to see that they were both free of the past issues that had plagued them.

Teredor: Teredor and Aisha were never particularly close when the latter was young. He was very oriented in tradition, wanting her to follow up on his rule as a potent queen. However, he tended to be ignorant of what she wanted, making Aisha fear he didn’t care. Deep down, Teredor does care for his daughter, and when he realizes the faults in the way he was raising her, he apologizes and allows her to carve her own future, believing that she knows best for herself.

Niobe: Niobe, while an intense figure in Aisha’s childhood, cares greatly for her daughter. She was never as rooted in tradition as her husband was, instead longing to focus on what Aisha wanted above all else. Niobe did clash with Teredor at times over what to do with their daughter’s childhood. After hearing from Aisha what she wanted to do with her life, Niobe placed her full support in her. Niobe and Aisha’s relationship has been changing for the better ever since.

Neptune: Neptune is just as strict and firm as Aisha’s father is, making the two brothers incredibly similar. Neptune cares greatly for Aisha and wants the best for her, but he tends to side with his brother on matters regarding how Aisha is raised. After Aisha runs away, Neptune softens up, realizing that perhaps the methods he discussed with Teredor were a bit extreme. Upon seeing what she is capable of, Neptune allows Aisha the freedom to live her own life.

Ligea: Ligea was perhaps the most supportive adult figure Aisha had growing up. She was free-spirited even if she preferred doing things a given way and encouraged Aisha to follow her heart. Aisha followed her advice and made her own path, something Ligea holds great pride in. Aisha at one point wanted to move in with Ligea and live among the mermaids, but Ligea instead told her to carve her own future, always putting her full faith in Aisha’s decision-making skills.

Nereus: Nereus and Aisha could relate to one another due to being the future heirs of the kingdoms of Andros. While they were both subjected to immense pressure growing up, Nereus had a habit of handling it better and did his best to help Aisha cope when she thought times were getting too rough. Nereus gives Aisha tips on what to do when she finally takes the throne as well, thinking the two can both learn from one another and their individual experiences.

Tritannus: Tritannus was immensely jealous of Aisha when she was growing up. While Aisha wanted nothing more than to be free of the throne, Tritannus longed to be made heir of an Andros kingdom. Their relationship could get tense at times even if they loved each other since Tritannus was prone to getting snippy with Aisha when she got upset. Even if they always made up afterwards, Aisha never forgot the arguments they had, and they had a lasting impact on her.

Tressa: Aisha and Tressa grew up incredibly close since Tressa was one of the only people Aisha was allowed to see regularly. Tressa felt horrible about the way she was being raised since she felt like she was being ignored by her father in favor of her brothers. Aisha was always there to comfort her, telling Tressa to make her own life in spite of what Neptune demanded of her, and Tressa did so by becoming one of the most powerful mermaid warriors alive.

Anne: Anne was Aisha’s best friend when the latter was younger. Anne encouraged Aisha to follow her dreams despite what held her back, believing she would be best if she was free. Aisha grew to fall in love with Anne over time, hoping they could find a life together one day. However, when Anne died, this dream was stopped in its tracks. Aisha followed Anne’s advice after the latter passed away and claims years later that everything she does is because of what Anne told her.

Piff: Piff is the perfect Pixie to counteract Aisha’s ever-present anxiety. Piff is calm and sweet, always trying to keep Aisha happy despite their young age. Aisha and Piff bonded as soon as the latter was born (which was a few months after Aisha joined the Pixies), and Aisha has been caring for Piff ever since. Piff has the least trouble calming Aisha when she battles her loneliness due to her calming aura, and the two can often be seen together on Alfea’s campus.

#winx club #winx #winx aisha #winx rewrite #digital's winx rewrite #aisha

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megabadbunny · 5 years

Text

Connor’s smile twitches into a smirk. “You would shoot an unarmed opponent? Seems pretty incongruous with your precious empathy, Lieutenant.”

“You know I’ll shoot you if I have to,” says Hank, and if Connor didn’t know any better, it would label that look in his eyes as sadness.

(canon divergence in which Connor aims to prove he is not a deviant, and Hank aims to prove him wrong; or, an option I wish the game had offered)

***

There’s something almost satisfying about the sensation of the rifle’s components snapping into place--the click of the magazine, the snap of the scope, a three-dimensional puzzle brought to completion in clean and elegant precision, all of it stark and sharp against the soft quiet of the falling snow. But it’s only almost satisfying; machines don’t feel satisfaction, after all. They don’t feel anything. And Connor is nothing if not a machine.

Extending the rifle’s legs, Connor plants the weapon along the guardrail and peers through the scope, catching the deviant leader in its crosshairs. Probably it could make this shot without the use of the scope--built-in telescopic optic sensors are pretty handy for such things, and Connor may not feel pride, but if it did, it would feel it about its state-of-the-art ocular construction--but it can’t risk the possibility that it might miss, however slim such a possibility may be. If its aim is off by so much as a centimeter, Markus could survive. And Connor knows it won’t get a second shot.

It adjusts its view, and adjusts again. And usually, Connor’s ability to dedicate 100% of its processing power to problem-solving is an invaluable asset, allowing it to tackle questions and determine answers and solutions at a rate most humans can only dream of. Sometimes, however, such intense focus is detrimental to the function of its auditory observation subroutines; even the most complex supercomputer may struggle in such a way. Connor blames this for how easily Hank is able to sneak up behind it.

“You shouldn’t do this, Connor,” erupts Hank’s tired voice from somewhere over its shoulder.

Connor curses silently to itself. Of course Hank wouldn’t approve of this--of course his hard-boiled exterior would house a soft and sentimental underbelly beneath. Of course it would. Connor should have seen this coming a mile off, should have known something like this would happen the second Hank didn’t chastise it for letting those deviants escape from the Eden Club. But it deserved chastisement, inasmuch as Connor deserves anything. It cannot allow its software instabilities to influence its decisions, regardless of Hank’s resultant praise and warm regard or how nice such things felt/. It could not allow anything to interfere with its mission.

“Keep out of this, Lieutenant,” it says, sharply (not irritatedly--because it is not irritated, it is not anything --but with enough of a bite that any reasonable human should know to back off). It does not turn around. “It’s none of your business!”

“You’re gonna kill a man who wants to be free, that is my business!”

“It’s not a man,” Connor replies evenly. “It’s a machine.”

“That’s what I thought for a long time, but I was wrong,” says Hank. “Deviant’s blood may be a different color than mine, but they’re alive.”

If Connor were the type to sigh, it’d do it right now. It doesn’t have time for any of this and it is certain Hank knows that. Connor spares an agonizing 2.56 seconds to run a quick search on its suggested response-prompts, hunting for the one that will work best on Hank. The friendly options feel// seem the safest, but would likely do little to convince him; it doubts Hank would respond well to any form of aggression not to mention the suggested prompts register as unnecessarily harsh/; reasonable would work if Hank were a rational human, but his increasingly positive attitudes toward deviancy indicate that he is beyond reason; and threats, Connor knows, will do little to sway the mind of a man with a death wish.

Aggression, it is.

“What’s up, Lieutenant?” it says. (Goads.) “Ran out of whiskey so you came here looking for trouble instead?”

“Oh, very nasty, Connor,” Hank replies drily. “Is that the best your super-program can do? I thought you were more sophisticated than that.”

Connor grits its teeth and adjusts its hold on the rifle. All this talk is a waste of time--it’s clear that Hank has already made up his mind, and Connor doesn’t know why it’s trying to convince him anyway, because it ultimately doesn’t matter what Hank thinks about this, and Connor certainly doesn’t care. So it shifts, refocuses, takes aim.

A telltale click lets it know Hank has drawn his gun from its holster. Connor doesn’t have to look to know where the barrel is pointing.

“Step away from the ledge,” Hank says, his voice hard.

Connor rolls its eyes. It calculates the probability that Hank will shoot (a low 10.4%, Connor’s HUD suggests), but if he does, there’s a high likelihood that any resultant wounds will impair Connor’s ability to successfully execute its mission. That is absolutely the only reason that Connor lowers its weapon and turns around, instead of squeezing the trigger and putting a bullet in Markus’ head before Hank even has a chance to blink.

(Threaten, its HUD supplies. Plead. Defy. Connor dismisses these options and their sub-options in the span of a few milliseconds, pushes its processor for more effective prompts.

Exploit weakness, its HUD offers.

Connor hesitates. That option feels// registers as excessively cruel.

Exploit weakness, the HUD urges.

Another precious millisecond ticks by as Connor demands its processor for an alternative response.

Exploit weakness, its HUD demands.

Connor grimaces. Blue and red flares in the corner of its vision as it decides that, actually, it turns out that none of these prompts are suitable for the situation at hand. It’s got nothing to do with the fact that using Hank’s son against him makes something churn uncomfortably in its guts. It’s just that Hank is unpredictable, that’s all. But that’s all right. Connor can adapt. It’s what it was built for.)

Connor smiles smugly. “All right, Lieutenant,” it says, holding up its free hand in a gesture of placating submission. It lowers its rifle to the ground, gently, then steps back, hands clasped politely in front of it. “Do what you must--though I have to warn you, if you shoot me here, another Connor will just take my place. You can’t stop the inevitable.”

“Yeah, yeah,” says Hank, unwavering in his aim. “I can sure as fuck slow it down, though.”

Connor’s smile twitches into a smirk. “You would shoot an unarmed opponent? Seems pretty incongruous with your precious empathy, Lieutenant.”

“You know I’ll shoot you if I have to,” says Hank, and if Connor didn’t know any better, it would label that look in his eyes as sadness.

It shakes its head. “No, you won’t,” it replies, almost fondly//. It ignores the warning flashing dully in its vision, the indication of software instability disappearing almost as quickly as it flared up. “Otherwise, you would have done it already.”

Hank glares at him, mouth twisting in a sour grimace. “Yeah,” he concedes, nodding. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”

Shifting his stance, he lowers the gun, only to pull it back in, aiming upward, the muzzle tucked securely beneath his jaw. “Got no problem shooting this asshole, though.”

Fuck. This is what Connor gets for going off-script. Panic spikes its blood pressure and// warnings start flashing in its vision. “Lieutenant--”

“You know, ever since Cole died, I’ve been nothing but a coward,” says Hank, his words dripping with self-loathing. “Just wanted to destroy myself, but I never quite had the guts to do it, until now. I think maybe I’ve got you to thank for that.”

He quiets. “And at least this way, it’ll mean something.”

“Lieutenant, this is unnecessary,” Connor snaps. “Your death won’t accomplish anything. It won’t affect the mission.”

“Pretty sure the sound of a gunshot will send your targets scattering,” Hank replies.

“That won’t stop me,” replies Connor, fighting to keep its voice level/.

“Let’s find out,” says Hank, and disengages the safety.

Connor’s breath catches in its throat. “Wait!”

Hank pauses, one eyebrow arched in unimpressed impatience as Connor searches its databanks for something, anything it can say to stop him// the best way to move past this latest obstruction--can it rush him? can it knock the gun from his hand before Hank squeezes the trigger? preconstruction says No and Connor wouldn’t want to risk it anyway--because Hank doesn’t have to die, even just the thought of it makes Connor feel sick/ , it’s not part of the mission. It’s not part of the mission.

“I thought we were in this together, Lieutenant,” Connor says (pleads), as red-hot warnings of software instability flash and flare across its HUD. “I thought we were partners. What happened? What changed?”

Hank chuckles darkly. “You’ve got how many terabytes of information zipping through that fancy plastic skull, you still haven’t figured it out? You’re the thing that’s changed, Connor. You changed yourself, you changed me.”

“I didn’t,” Connor argues, its vision growing redder by the second. “I couldn’t have. I’m just a machine, Lieutenant. My one and only objective is to complete this mission--”

“Fuck your fucking objective and fuck your goddamn mission! You threw it all out the window the second you spared those women at the club--shit, Connor, you practically set it all on fire when you refused to shoot that girl at Kamski’s!”

“I assure you, Lieutenant, my actions were purely motivated by practical--”

“Would a ruthless machine give even a single fuck if a couple of officers roughed up another machine? Huh?” Hank spits out. “We’d already got all we needed out of it. Confession, motive, trigger event, everything. How would it further your mission, to help Cortiz’s android?”

Warnings blur Connor’s vision as its instability climbs, higher and higher, dangerously high, its sight flooded with red. “I needed it alive--”

“And what about Officer Wilson--did you need him alive?” snaps Hank, and Connor’s mouth twists shut. “Yeah, I know all about that, I read the report,” Hank continues. “You stopped in the middle of your hostage negotiation to help him. To save him. For what? How did that help with your investigation, Connor? What did that do for your mission ?”

Connor blinks and sees Officer Wilson, face pinched in pain, blood pumping thick and red and metallic and hot out of a fresh arterial wound and it blinks again and there’s a flash of blue and gold amidst the red, floundering, gasping, scales glinting in the light, and Connor knows it can’t breathe, it must be in terrible pain//, and Connor can save it, so why wouldn’t it? Even if it takes valuable seconds, even if it’s got nothing to do with its mission? Why not do something, if it can? Why not? What kind of monster would just let an innocent creature die?/

Struggling to find words amidst the warnings flashing in its skull, Connor opens and closes its mouth, ineffectually, a fish out of the water. Deflect, its HUD suggests, and Connor gratefully complies.

“None of that matters, Lieutenant,” it finally manages to say. “All that matters is what we do right now.”

Hank sighs in resignation. “Fine by me,” he says, and rests his finger against the trigger.

Thirium pumps wildly in its skull and Connor reaches out despite itself.

“Hank --!”

And suddenly everything freezes in place around it; the rooftop is gone, the brick and the steel and the snow are gone, and it’s just the two of them, now, Connor and Hank suspended in a sea of red as warnings and alarms flash in front of Connor’s eyes. Software instability, Connor’s HUD warns, but that can’t be true, this is just another hurdle, it’s just another obstacle, that’s all, and that’s what Connor was made for, right? Clear the hurdle, remove the obstacle, finish the equation, solve the problem, find the answer, fulfill the mission, stop Hank, help Hank/

(“Don’t let Anderson or anyone else get in your way,” Amanda told it, her tone crisp and calm despite that hint of something threatening underneath)

spare the androids// leave the androids// h̸e̶l̸p̷ ̶t̸h̵e̷ ̵a̵n̵d̶r̴o̵i̶d̸s̸

Light pops like fireworks in its vision and its limbs freeze and its respiratory cooldown halts, breath caught in its throat.

(“I thought I knew what I had to do,” it said, “but now I realize it’s not that simple”)

s̴p̶a̴r̵e̸ ̶M̴a̴r̷k̶u̷s̸// j̵̖̽o̷̫͘i̵̬̋ṋ̴͝ ̷̩͂Ṃ̷͝a̷̙͛r̸̝͋k̶͎͝u̶̝͝s̶̡̀/ /j̸͓̊̍͋o̸̪̐ī̷͖n̵̡̍͠ ̴̹̅̉̕t̸͇̖̠͋̆h̸̩͋͗̉ě̴̢̘̪́͊ ̴̛̰͔̇r̷̰͖̩̒͠è̸̟͛̾v̶̺̄̀o̵͙̜̔̑́l̸͉͙̭̈̚u̸͇͔͆̿̾t̷͔͒́ī̸͎o̷̯̤̪̓n̵̮̩̅͘

Blackness seeps in the corners of its vision, an ink stain spreading slowly before its eyes as its regulator speeds up, sending shrill alarms shrieking in its ears.

(“I’ve considered the possibility,” it replied, hesitant, “that I might be compromised”)

>Stress Level > 92.8% and Rising > Software Instability > High > Caution: Errors detected. Please report to your nearest Cyberlife facility for immediate emergency maintenance.

s̶̹̱̣̺͉̥͚̆̿̈́̐̕a̶̼͒̆̒v̴̦̉̉̀͂͘͘e̵̮̠̦̦͂ ̵̠̘̲̞̔̅͋H̴̡͚͇̦̠͗͜â̴̯͙n̵͙̞̪̈́̐̂̐͑̚ͅķ̴̳̰͎͈̄̌͆ //s̸̢͍̣͎̯͙͙͌̈́ä̵̛̹̺͇͉́̇v̷̡̯̖̖̰̼̠̥̠̀͆̿͜͝ę̷̨̛͇̳̩̅͂́̈́͜ͅ ̷̡̻͉͙͕͚̇̽̆̃̅̽̍͜͝y̷̮̤̦̯̞̖͎̹͈̣̑̓͆̏͂̚o̴̢̤͚̠̘̗̾̊̌͌̽̌́̽ů̴̲̩͔̽̃̊̅̂͛r̸͕̭̔s̷͚̆͋̍̋̄͑ę̸̛̖̃̀̏̒̔̓͆ļ̵̭̖͙̪͈̖̏̆̽͗f̵̨̧̻̟͙̙͍̃̀͆̐̋͆̌̑̉͜ͅ

Distantly Connor is aware that its vision has gone dark, its body is stumbling, doubling over, it can’t think, it can’t breathe, it can’t--it can’t--

“Connor?” asks Hank’s voice, from somewhere far off in the black, and if Connor didn’t know any better, he/ it would think that was concern in his voice--

(“RK800 313 248 317-01,” said Amanda, the first time its first self met her, not so long ago. “What is your mission?”)

Connor falls to his/ its knees, pump pulsing violently in its chest, painfully, and is this how Daniel felt before he died, is this what would have happened to Officer Wilson if Connor hadn’t intervened? Dying, gasping, gagging on his own blood? But Connor could rip the pump out right now, he/ it could, it could rip the fucking thing out and all of this would stop--

(“To investigate, hunt, and destroy all traces of deviancy, by whatever means necessary,” it replied.

“What are you, RK800?”)

“What the fuck are you doing over there?”

Hands flying to its chest, it scrabbles at its necktie, its shirt, clawing at the buttons, it’s suffocating, he’s got to get rid of the pump, got to get it out, got to get rid of the hurt, got to get rid of this thing--

>Stress Level > 98.3% and Rising > Software Instability > Dangerous > Danger: Self-destruction imminent. Please report to your nearest--

“Connor, stop!”

The voice rings out like a shot across the rooftop and there’s a sound (dry, hurried, crunching, like snow) and suddenly something is yanking Connor’s hands away, holding him firm by the wrists. And Connor could break free--could break free easily, he’s so much stronger than the grip holding him in place, and humans are so, so fragile--but he freezes, stares without seeing, his HUD overwhelmed with black and red. Klaxons and warnings and alarms scream in his skull as the last of his processor’s prompts flares before his eyes--

(“I am a machine,” it said.)

į̶̨̧̦̞̺̠͚̫̟͔͍̞̈̇̓͜ͅ ̴͕͍͆͒̀ą̸̡̳̤̝̺͕̫̭̗̩̦͇̋̐̌͌̐̉͛̃̎̔ͅm̸̻̲̟͎̹̱̌͗̕͝ ̶̙̟̣̗̤̦̻ḋ̴̢̲̯̙̪͎̠̅̎̈̋̂͋͝e̸̢̛͍̫͈̣̩̽̈́͌̃͒͛͠v̵̹̞͖̜̞̺͇̦̩͙͍̙̺͇͗͑̍̿͠ͅi̸̯̹̇͌a̸̧̢̬͍̯̱̦̙͌̓͐̂̇̔̿̈́̔̄͋̈́͝n̶̮̹̭̯̠̟̙̠̂͆t̴͉̙̙̒

Connor chokes on the realization.

“Hey-hey-hey, what’s wrong?” says the voice from somewhere far away, gruff but worried, and the hands release Connor’s wrists in favor of resting on his shoulders. “You okay? What’s happening? What’s going on with you? Are you glitching or what?”

With a gasp, the darkness clears, the red with it, and Connor can see again, breathe again. He looks around to see that the roof is still there, the snow atop it still fresh and white, the night sky dark and calm overhead. The sounds of Markus’ demonstration echo in the distance, ongoing and undisturbed, and Hank crouches in front of him, brow knit in apprehension.

The gun is nowhere to be seen.

Something loosens in Connor’s chest and his pump slows, stabilizing. His stress level registers at 81.6% and lowering. That feels...better.

“Hank,” Connor says weakly, his voice hoarse.

Hank nods. “Yeah, son. I’m here.”

Connor swallows. “I’m--I’m sorry,” he says, and he means it. Feels it.

Wary, Hank pulls away. “For what?”

“You were right,” Connor says, something oozing sickly in his chest--shame , he realizes. Guilt. He’s hurt so many of them, planned to hurt so many more. Oh, god. He’d be ill, if he were capable. “You were right about the deviants,” he continues, speaking past the lump in his throat. “They--we just want to be free.”

There’s no way Hank missed the pronoun switch there, but he doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he just tilts his head with that knowing look of his, the appraising one, before flashing a wan and lopsided smile. “Goddamn right I was right. Maybe next time you’ll listen to me before I draw my sidearm,” he chuckles darkly. “Just about blasted my brains out all over this roof. Don’t envy the poor sucker who’d have to clean that up.”

“Please stop trying to kill yourself,” Connor blurts out.

Hank arches an eyebrow in surprise.

“It’s just--Look, I’m sorry for what happened to your son,” Connor says earnestly. He continues despite Hank’s stiffening posture and darkening expression. “I really am. I can’t imagine how awful it would be to go through something like that, losing a child. I know it’s horrible. I know it hurts. Probably hurts worse than anything. But--but you can’t just end things, Hank. You can’t.”

Scowling, Hank shrugs, a reluctant Fine, I’ll bite move. “Why not?” he asks flatly.

Connor blinks. He hadn’t planned this far. This was much easier when his HUD was flashing a host of prompts in front of his face. Because humans don’t come back , he wants to say, but he fears that that’s sort of the point.

“Because Sumo wouldn’t like it?” he tries, a feeble joke.

He doesn’t need his HUD to know that Hank is not persuaded.

“And neither would I,” Connor admits.

With a grunt of understanding, Hank looks away, and the sick feeling eases up a little in Connor’s chest, shifting to make room for something else. Relief, he thinks, and the tension in his shoulders ebbs.

Hank sighs. “All right, kid. You don’t go all Terminator on Markus down there, and I’ll--shit, I don’t know. Maybe I’ll try some fucking therapy, or meditation, or whatever the hell you’re supposed to do. I don’t know. It’s probably time.” He lets out an impatient huff. “Probably past time,” he mutters.

Connor shoots him a weak smile, and Hank glowers. “I said maybe I’d do it,” he insists. “Maybe. ”

“Yeah,” says Connor. Then, quietly, “Thank you, Hank.”

“Sure thing.”

“For--for everything, I mean.”

“Whatever. You’re welcome,” Hank grumbles, but his words are muffled when he leans forward to wrap his arms around Connor. Connor stiffens in surprise--how’s he supposed to respond to this? His impulse is to pull away, he can’t recall an instance when a human’s touch wasn’t synonymous with harm--but a few seconds in and his hands reach up awkwardly, returning the gesture.

Stress levels sink to 50.4% and lowering. Connor lets out a shaky breath. This, he realizes, is a hug. He’s never been hugged before.

It’s...tolerable. Maybe even nice.

Hank slaps him on the back before pushing to his feet, standing. “So, you gonna go help these assholes or what?”

“I don’t know,” Connor replies, wincing. He pushes himself up, grateful when Hank grabs him by the arm to keep him from wobbling. “I feel--”(--and isn’t that a novelty, that he feels, and for the first time, he’s not afraid of it?--)--“I feel like I should, but after Jericho, I can’t imagine they’d want my help. They may very well shoot me on sight. I wouldn’t blame them.”

“Well,” Hank says with a grin. “Then you’re just gonna have to get creative, aren’t you? Isn’t that one of those features you’re always bragging about? Adapting to unpredictability?”

“Human unpredictability,” Connor points out, stooping to pick up his rifle so he can dismantle it.

“Right, right, because you all are so stable and well-adjusted.”

“Comparatively, yes.” Connor packs the rifle’s components away, lifting the suitcase off the ground. “Speaking of which, you really should stop drinking, Hank.”

“And you really should mind your own fuckin’ business,” Hank replies pleasantly, opening the door to the stairwell. “What’s next, criticizing the way I eat? The way I dress?”

“Your wardrobe criticizes itself, Lieutenant,” says Connor as he steps past. Hank follows him down the stairs, grumbling under his breath, guess he’s got an opinion about everything now, thinks he’s a fucking comedian now, but there’s no heat to any of it, and Connor can practically hear Hank grinning.

Connor smiles.

***

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