#lucy grey HAUNTS this man until his end

[tkbblog]

I'm enjoying every crumbs we get with tom with his long hair because i know damn well this man is going to shave it all once more when btk 3 filming is over

I still believe Tom will be Snow in SOTR. He should be. He earned it. It should not be hard to age him to 58. I think he already knows. I think he had to deny it until the book came out.

Quite frankly, I will be majorly pissed if he isn't Snow in this movie. Jennifer Lawrence & Josh Hutcherson & the rest of the OG cast were pretty much unknown before the 1st movie. They were paid as unknowns, too. But, for the next 3 movies, Jen in particular was paid like the star she is. Tom deserves that, too. He earned the role, he earned the payday.

And I think he earned the clout to wear a wig instead of getting his hair cut and bleached and stuff.

I think the main voice we will hear in the background, on the soundtrack, will he Rachel. We probably won't see Lucy Gray, but she is the voice of the revolution who continued to haunt Snow until the day he died.

Unfortunately, I don’t think we will be seeing or hearing of Lucy Grey in SOTR. Her story was told and was left open ended for a reason, so I don’t think Rachel will be involved in this one.

Tom however, very well might be. I said a while ago that if we got any flashbacks of a young Corio in this one that we’d definitely see him and I’d really hope they’d have him on as older snow, too. Otherwise the reality is that it’d be too many actors. The Hunger Games has done their franchise insanely right so I have full hope, I still need to read SOTR so no spoilers but I’m sooo excited to see the movie when it releases!

[undead-notunreasonable]

HAPPY DRAC-O-WEEN || PART 31 OF 31 ||

The sound of dripping stirred Dracula from his slumber, his body felt a strange mixture of light & heavy. Both mourning & relief. There was a strange silence about the place he were in, something held within the air but he couldn’t figure out what it could be. Eyes opened slowly, seeing the stone ceiling above him, the way the candlelight flickered onto the condensation suggested he was somewhere dark, somewhere underground, a cellar perhaps. But it couldn’t have been any ordinary cellar, at least most cellars don’t have beds within them, almost like nurses beds. With a soft groan, Dracula sat up on his elbows, letting his eyes adjust to the light. It’d been at least a century that he’d been somewhere that relied solely on candlelight to illuminate a room. A shuffle in a seat drew his attention to a woman in what seemed to be a blue cloak, a...habit. If he could breathe, it would certainly catch in his throat. “Oh good, you’re awake at last.” a thick, chirpy Dutch accent called back to him. Dracula felt so tired & above all confused, staring at the woman until she pushed past his blurred vision by coming to his bedside “Agatha?” he called out weakly, trying to make sense of it all. “Yes, Count Dracula. You are at my side once again it seems, you’re harder to distance myself from than anyone else.” she slid into a seat, looking at him with a look of scepticism. “What’s going on? How am I here?” he asked trying to sit himself upright until he felt cool slim fingers pressing him down again. “That is not the question we have to ask ourselves.” she urged, dropping her nose so she could look at him with an arched brow. “But if you must know, it seems that those lives you have taken within your 500 years not only live on through you but you continue to live on through them. I seem to be the prioritised choice, which makes sense when you think about it, I was the only one after all who came closer than anyone to understand the beast.” “I feel I’m hardly a beast, I haven’t been this tired in centuries.” he wheezed out and tired he looked, his eyes could barely keep open, his body just hurt, almost as though he were mortal. Agatha watched on at him, arching her neck to get a better look, observing the man who were much different to the woman she’d met at those convent gates. “The question isn’t how but why?” Agatha urged, she particularly enjoyed watching people figure things out for themselves. “Because your blood is within my blood, not only did I carry you, you carried me, all the people whose lives I’ve taken I can easily return to like a terrible book I just can’t seem to finish.” Van Helsing had a glowing smile on her lips at that. “And you can’t bare a bad book, can you?” another arch of her brow, this time rather than judging him, she was challenging him. Dracula’s dark eyes flicked to hers for a brief moment before looking ahead once more, staring at more stone wall dripping with liquid. He lay quiet just then, thinking things over. How did he get here, what had just happened that sent him within his own mind. He was storming the foundation himself and...Vlad. A jolt in his memory brought about the flash of a vision: Vlad’s head on a spike, where it was always meant to be. Surely he would be here with him, inside his veins, they’d shared blood so surely-- “Vladimir Tepes is not here, Count Dracula.” Agatha interjected. “Remember, we’re connected, I can hear your thoughts.” His eyes scanned the walls, recounting everything that had happened and how it came to Vlad being beheaded. His hands began to shake and eyes filled with tears “They killed him. They stole him away from me just when we’d found each other again. We loved each other & we were going to rule--” he began to babble, feeling his heart burn with pain. “--I’m surprised someone as cruel & deadly as you could love someone but I’m afraid that notion was never returned to you.” Agatha remained steady then, knowing her words were unkind but it better to speak the truth. “What are you talking about, of course he did--” “No. He didn’t.” she spoke more sternly this time, taking hold of the conversation like a riding bull “He was using you to win the throne, making you do all the dirty work, finding out information, infiltrating the foundation, speaking to Mr Harker, then he was going to make you his second man.” Dracula took a complete offence to this, cheeks puffing with anger at how a nun could talk about his relationship. “Think about it.” Agatha urged “Whenever you tried to initiate things, did he reciprocate those feelings?” Dracula’s puffed cheeks slowly dropped as he thought things through. He seemed to avoid him all the more the plan were staring to come together. “And didn’t he just steal a human away from you just now? Almost as though he was power hungry, and you just let him.” Annoyingly, as always, Agatha was right. Piecing these things together made Dracula begin to shake once more, trembling with heart break before he burst out into tears. “Oh!” she beamed at the sight, being somewhat cruel in her actions “The vampire does cry, that’s new.” His tears faltered then, taking in a deep breath, realising that he didn’t want that in front of her. His lips pursed in annoyance instead. Until his original question remained in his mind: How is he here? “You’re talking to me, an awful lot, just like before.” his eyes narrowed as he watched her. Agatha rose from her seat, walking away from his bedside again. Dracula sat up immediately, honing his focus on the nun “You’re distracting me again, Agatha Van Helsing. What are you up to?” just then, he climbed out of the bed, seeing himself back in Jonathans robes after he’d torn at his face. “You’re a creature of consequence.” she turned on her heel, raising her chin to look up at him. “All creatures, even humans, have to suffer for their actions.” “You’re killing me, aren’t you?” “No.” her hands folded together as she kept herself calm, and stood strong against the vampire. “I’m not the one killing you.”

A strange sucking sound grew to become an overwhelming sound of vacuum. The surroundings had melted away from that of underground cellar in St Mary’s Convent Budapest to what seemed as though they stood in middle of a tornado. Dracula had to shield his eyes from the dust, squinting to see if he could find any sign of, well, anything beyond this whirlwind. There were screams and moans twirling through the dust, swirling into his hair & clothing. “Where am I?” he called out to the woman in front of him. Agatha still remained still, hands neatly folded as thought the wind didn’t rock her. “Your turmoil!” she called back against the noise “Your victims, your pure unfiltered chaos! All wrapped into one great storm!” Dracula grabbed at the woman then, snarling down at her “Put me back, put me back at that Foundation!” his eyes were wild & shining, matching the mayhem of their surroundings. Pain, excruciating agony but at least the surroundings were quiet aside from his cries. His eyes laid upon the stake of which pierced through his chest, splintering through his heart. A hand reached up to clutch at it & found it covered in blood, having already attempted without himself knowing. His breath wobbled, blood, his own, trickled up from his throat. This was his end. He’d never thought it would be something like this, he always imagined in a much grander scheme, a ruler, adored, not... inside a research centre. He cried out again, eyes meeting the head of Vlad where heartbreak & anger were at war with one another. He choked on his blood once more. How did this happen? The position of the stake were just out of reach for him to pull out. “D,” a female voice called out, tears streaming down her face. “I had to do it.” her voice waved. His eyes looked from the stake until they met beautiful shining brown ones. Lucy Westenra was the one to make him meet his demise, who’d have thought? “I saw what you was planning.” she dropped to her knees, small hands covered in his blood, trembling just as much as he did. “I’m so sorry, D. I couldn’t---” she hiccupped “---I couldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t let you go through with it. Not again.” despite her anger, she was riddled with remorse, clutching at him as though she wasn’t ready to lose him, like she hadn’t placed the stake there herself. A long sharp finger came up, giving a soft wag as he spoke “Lucy Westenra, as long as I live in your memory, I will continue to haunt you for the rest of your Octobers.” he snarled at her one final time. Two people he’d accepted into his life, both betrayed him.

The tornado like purgatory returned once more, and Dracula found himself staring at it’s bleak grey walls. “You’re dying, Count Dracula. At long last. This is the end of the line.” Agatha called out once more. Dracula looked paler than usual, and if anything, absolutely petrified by the idea. “The monster that once was, no one to love him, crushed by those he thought loved him, and murdered by his finest experiment. His last experiment.” She corrected. “A foul stinking beast, gone. A final bow. How does that feel?” All this time he’d managed to avoid death, escaping it’s every sharp claw, and now it had been taken from him, just as he were rising the ranks. The sounds of his victims from five centuries seemed to wail together, rising and roaring at him in their anger. How dare he be upset that he time came before he wanted. Hands threw over his ears to try and drain them out but it was no use. The Count dropped them to his thighs, bursting into tears once again, completely defeated & exhausted. “I have blood on my hands that will never come clean.” he wailed “I’m sorry! Agatha,” he closed the gap between them “I don’t know what to do, how could I have let that man get into my head! Agatha Van Helsing, please help me, please let me repent.” he begged, clutching onto the bottom of her habit, willing her to help him in anyway that she could. Within the commotion, a door appeared between them, slowly opening to reveal a bright white light, and within it, his home. Wallachia. The sound of his Mother & Sister laughing within the kitchen of his childhood home. The smell of snow, stew, and wood burning swirled his purgatory. He looked at it in complete bafflement, bewildered more like. Was this... his heaven? His wide eyes & slack jaw looked back to Agatha, who was looking beyond the door herself & gave a short laugh “Hmm! That seems like a nice place to spend eternity.” she bounced her shoulders in delight at the sight. “Why? After all this time, after all these people I’d killed, slaughtered, and tortured?” “You have to remember, Count Dracula, this is life, everybody dies here. But not only that-                                                                                -The devil himself was an angel in the beginning.                                                                         It’s time for you to go home.”

[stevmarie]

So how ‘bout that haunted house au??? Because I may have had an idea...

A groan echoed through the bowels of the house, rumbling from deep in its gut, and everyone simultaneously froze in what they were doing. Eyes darted to and from faces, a strange silence settling in where previously there had been light-hearted banter. Natsu was the first the break the fragile quiet.

“What the hell was that?”

“Sounded like it was coming from the basement.” Grey muttered

“Sub-basement,” Laxus said.

“There’s a sub-basement?”

“That’s where the boilers are,” Lucy explained.

“This place has boilers?” Natsu asked with a grin spreading across his face.

“How else would you heat over two million square feet of space, genius?” Grey snapped.

Another groan shivered through the walls, this time followed by an alarmed squeak from the blonde heiress. Laxus, not in the mind to endure any more jumping and fidgeting, clicked his teeth and turned towards the servants stairwell.

“Where are you going?”

“To get some damn work done around here,” he snapped back, “Boilers don’t start themselves, do they?”

He slammed the door behind him as he pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and started making his way down the too-narrow stairs. The steps turned at odd angles beneath his feet with small ruts worn in the stone from countless trips up and down. A sort of grey-ish grime coated the walls up to his shoulder as he spiraled down, down, down, probably from hands that ran themselves, dirt-covered and sweaty, across the off-white brick.

“Boilers don’t start themselves.”

He hadn’t put a lot of thought into that phrase when he’d said it, but now he was starting to dwell on it. He hadn’t asked who Lucy had hired to try the fix the inner-workings of the mansion other than himself. As far as he was aware, he, Mirajane, Lucy, Natsu, and Grey were the only ones here. Mirajane certainly wouldn’t have gone down here alone. So that begged the question who was down here...

He finally found himself at the bottom landing, staring at black pipes that snaked from just above the door and disappeared into darkness. He peered inside, shocked at the deep encroaching shadows unbroken by lamplight. Was whoever down here completely in the dark?

It was cold and damp, feeling more like standing in the middle of a cave than a basement. Black pipes were strung up to the ceiling, strapped to the sides of the walls, and disappearing up and in like worms writhing their way through the mansion. A deep rumble started from far down in the darkness ahead, growing in intensity and thundering towards him. His body braced instinctively as it rushed by, shaking the pipes around him and bellowing up into the foundation. He didn’t realize he’d been clenching his teeth until he forced himself to pull another drag from his cigarette.

He was definitely headed in the right direction.

Stepping into the hall felt like being swallowed. As he walked through the cold damp, he glanced around the tops of the walls, looking for spiderwebs. He’d heard spiders like places like this, dark and dank and quiet. He would have thought he’d be ducking under them in a place like this, untouched for so many years, but there wasn’t a single one to be found. But then, as much as spiders loved a place to hide, it took quite the disillusioned arachnid to attempt to make its home in a sleeping, open mouth. And that’s exactly what this place felt like, like walking right down into a throat. Rattling and breathing around him, resting, waiting for him to make one incorrect step to trigger an automatic response and be swallowed.

Laxus didn’t like it down here, he decided. Not because of some silly thing like the thought of being swallowed, of course. That was kid stuff.

A noise echoed faintly down the chamber at him, something that sounded very much like one thing striking against another. A crunch and rattle, the clang of metal against metal, and then the crunch sounded again. Laxus stood in the hall for a moment, trying to figure out what it was. The initial response of calling to the source of the noise died in the back of his throat because the thought of braking the darkness around him suddenly seemed terrifying.

There’s a mansion in San Jose, California called the Winchester Mystery House and - no matter if you believed ghost stories or preferred the more believable tales about predatory mediums working on the grief-stricken minds of rich widows - most people tend to agree that it’s haunted. Amid stories of doors leading to nothing, rooms left unfinished, and the sprawling design of a labrithine building that directly mirrored the decaying sanity of an elderly woman, there were tales of workers that still hammered away at metaphysical walls and threw around the tools of unsuspecting contractors who tried to make routine repairs. The idea snuck up in the back of his mind that this was exactly what was happening, the ghosts of long-dead servants were now toiling away in darkened corridors, their labors never finished. It made his skin prickle.

Laxus had never worked in a haunted house before, mind you. He’d worked in old houses, yes, and ones more ruined than they were salvageable. He’d been in places frequented by odd noises and knockings. He’d laid wires in walls with tragic histories. Most times he’d find that a good corbonmonoxide detector would destroy a longstanding haunted house. But something about the Heartfilia mansion just didn’t say you’re breathing too much poisonous gas to him. The place had been unsettling since the moment he’d stepped from his car; dark in places that didn’t make sense, and oozing unfamiliarity and patient malice. An open window couldn’t banish the strange, sticking dread that clung to the raftors of this place. And the noise echoing down the hallway sounded very much like something that didn’t belong, eerie and broken as it was, like a minor’s dredging through the heart of a cold mountain.

Laxus’s stomach dropped as he stepped forward into the darkness. He saw something dim reflecting off the pipes down at the end of the hall, like the slightest glimpse of light through a mist. It wasn’t warm like the lamps upstairs. It was cold and distant, ghostly and blue in the way snow is, or fog. It wavered slightly and then, quite suddenly, dashed away. And then Laxus heard it again, louder now as he drew closer, a crunch and then a rattle, followed by a metallic clang. It reminded him of walking by the railroad tracks as a kid and climbing the mountain of gravel heaped for use later, the sound of rocks gliding off one another as they were dislodged by his feet and tumbled in a miniature avalanche down the slope. The metal clang, and now Laxus could hear a high-pitched squeal of hinges.

A low noise started, slow and eerie. A voice hummed distantly a hollow tune, slightly off-key. Laxus’s heart thumped it’s way up his throat as he approached the bend in the hall. The sound of rocks tumbling was incredibly close, made loud either by his fear or by whatever had made it coming near to him. He stood still, staring at the corner as he tried to find the will to turn and see who was on the other side. The humming stopped, the sound of stone ended, and the groan of hinges filled the space until a metal door clanged shut.

He felt incredibly loud and bumbling as his foot scuffed against the floor. He turned and his eyes meandered their way across a flashlight laying on its side, light cutting through unnaturally dark haze into the gaping mouth of a boiler. Two more stood beside it, doors shut tight with something black oozing from their closed maws. Laxus felt a little dizzy as he stood there staring at the empty boiler room. His breath was coming in fast, his eyes landing on abandoned work.

“What in the hell do ya think yer doin’?” a voice demanded and Laxus nearly jumped from his skin. He snapped his head around to a darkened doorway past the bench that held the light. A stark shadow stood there, hunched over some long shape. Laxus nearly swallowed his cigarette at the sound of metal hitting concrete ground, “I just shoveled coal!”

“I’m... uhh...” Laxus stuttered as the shadow stepped out of the darkness and into the limited light of the flashlight.

“Don’t ya know shit about workin’ with coal? Get rid of the fucking cigarette, unless ya wanna send us both up,” he growled, crossing his arms and glaring over at him.

“Oh!” Laxus responded eloquently, fumbling to find something to put his cigarette out on. He settled on the wall, not figuring Miss Heartifila would be giving much of a fuck about the walls down here being dirty, and somewhat awkwardly cleared his throat, “I’m Laxus.”

The man raised a brow at him, giving him a hard look over before something sparked in his eyes, “The electrition?”

Laxus smiled more out of courtesy than actually wanting to, “Yep.”

“Th’names Gajeel,” he replied, placing his hands on his hips, “Sorta a handyman. Would be a mechanic, except I never got around to passin’ the test.”

“Not certified but still fixing the boilers?” Laxus asked in good humor.

“I was the only person they could find who’d worked with steamship boilers before... course, those were oil, not coal.”

“Semantics,” Laxus said.

He shrugged and then slouched back into the dark room. Laxus stepped farther in, eyeing the massive machines and their many strange gauges and knobs. The black stuff on the ground, Laxus realized, was coal dust and the two closed boilers had been filled with the stuff. Laxus had no idea how long it must have taken to do, especially alone, but he could only assume Gajeel had to have gotten here long before the rest of them.

“You do all this yourself?” Laxus asked. He heard the deary complaint of a squeaky wheel and turned to see Gajeel pushing a wheelbarrow heaping with coal. He grunted as he heaved it into the open boiler, clapping his hands and sending darkened plumes of rock dust into the air.

“It ain’t so bad once you get started,” he muttered, slamming the door shut and turning a knob to seal it. He turned and headed off in a direction deeper into the room, and Laxus followed closely behind, not wanting to be left alone in the dark. There was a workbench, or Laxus thought it was, with long metal poles wrapped in cloth. There was a bucket of water colored pitched, and it was clear why when Gajeel stuck his arms deep into it, wetting down his hands and running them across his face. The water cut streaks into the soot covering him, staining his shirt. He grabbed one of the poles.

“What’s that?”

“Hopefully, it’s what gets everythin’ running,” he said, dunking it in oil.

“If it doesn’t?”

“It’ll probably blow us up... hell if I know. I’m just hoping none of the pipes corroded. That’ll be a hell of a mess...”

They returned to the boilers where Gajeel checked valves and gauges, griping the entire time about pressure and how the whole place is probably a death trap, before plunging the pole down into the bowels of the boiler, waiting a few beats while slowly turning it, and then pulling it out again. There was a flicker in the observation window that grew steadily brighter.

“Give ‘er a look,” Gajeel’s voice sounded amused, but he’d turned around before Laxus could glance at his face. As he toiled down the line, Laxus peeked into the belly of the thing. White brick lined the sides of the boiler, charred from use, and the fire danced its way across the rock, turning from a fighting scarlet to livid white and tipping in blue. It was mystifying to watch it flicker and taunt its way through the monsterous pit, and for the first time since Laxus had gotten to this godforsaken place, he started to feel warm.

A deep vibration started at his feet, rumbling the pipes like an earthquake and setting the whole house into a vicious buzz. Smoke belched from one of the vents before shuttering and and stopping. There was a dreadful moment when the entire boiler shivered and groaned, sending that same egregious moan echoing loudly through the house, and then it lolled to a comfortable hum. Gajeel crosses his arms, watching his work completed with a smug set to his features, as the room filled with the reddish glow of coal fire.

“Well, I’ll be damn. We might get this place livable after all,” Laxus sighed, “How long d’you think it’ll take to get the house warm?”

“A place as big as this? At least five hours.”

“I don’t think I can go five hours listening to the heiress complain about the cold.”

“Bit of a princess, ain’t she?”

Laxus rolled his eyes and Gajeel snorted, the noise as alien to the place as the heat now filling the room. With more light, Laxus could see piercings catching the red glow on his eyebrows.

“She seems one of those damsel-in-distress types, always gettin’ into trouble. Can’t wait ‘til she finds a mouse. Bet she’ll be climing right up into those strong arms of yours.”

Laxus laughed and it felt like a relief. The trepidation that had been clinging to him for so long, the inherit off-ness that had been sinking its cold fingers into him, his uneasiness at being in this massive, unknown place, it all disappeared in the midst of simply being able to laugh. A sheepish grin broke out across Gajeel’s face. Laxus wasn’t sure if it was the black dust peppering his face, the way the warm, comforting light of the boilers bounced across his eyes, or maybe just having another warm presense in the otherwise suffocating basement, but Laxus was sure the entire place had just gotten a bit brighter.

[adrenaline-roulette]

Hallow-Queen (Ben)

I wrote three Hallow themed one shots back in October for the Boh Rhap cast (There was supposed to be a fourth, but unfortunately some things came up, and I was unable to write it. Maybe this Halloween I’ll finally get it done!?)

Anyways, there is a fic for Joe, Ben and Gwil

This time it’s the man with the most amazing lower lip biting technique, Ben!

@not-the-cleavers​  (I know how much you love Ben ATM boo!) Pairing: Ben Hardy x Reader

The BohRhap cast Halloween parties had become a tradition, well perhaps not a tradition quite yet, seeing as this was only the second time the event was occurring, but it was a tradition none the less! This year, Ben had put his hand up for organising the party , and to quote, “This year, Halloween will be the biggest, best party you will ever attend!” Of course, when you had asked your fiancé what he had meant by that, he would shrug and change the subject. To say you were concerned would be an understatement, the party invitations had gone out four weeks ago, and in that time you hadn’t seen Ben do anything remotely resembling party planning! All you knew, was that the party was to be held at his parents house. It was an odd location choice, though you knew his family was out of town currently, and their house was far bigger than the apartment you two currently shared. So perhaps it was the ideal location? “Good morning love. I’m going to get things set up for tonight, I’ll see you at eight yeah?” Ben whispers, as you feel the bed dip opposite you, as he lays down to face you.

Opening your eyes slowly, you yawn as the morning light catches you off guard, clearly Ben had opened the bedroom curtains, the sun now flooding the room. “Hm? Ben what time is it?”

“It’s ten, hey shh, don’t get up.” Ben smiles softly, resting his hand over your shoulder and gently pressing you back against the bed. “There’s tea on the nightstand, careful it’s still hot. Have a quiet day to yourself, and I’ll see you at the party.”

You smile, closing your eyes once again as you breathe in the scent that is so uniquely Ben. The smell of black coffee and cigarettes invading your sinuses. “Are you sure you don’t need help with anything?”

You had offered to help multiple times this past week, and each time Bed had declined, informing you that he had everything under control. “Thank you, but I’m all good Y/N, I promise that by eight o’clock tonight everything will be set up for the party!”

Snuggling deeper under the covers, you peer over at the blonde across from you, your eyes up only visible beneath the cacoon you had created. “Have fun, love you Benji.” Ben leans over, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, before rolling off of the bed and heading out of the apartment.

Just as Ben had promised, when you roll over onto your other side, there on the nightstand, is a piping hot teacup filled with earl grey tea, made just the way you like it. You wriggle up in the bed, until you’re sat with your back pressed against a mountain of pillows against the headboard. You sip the tea carefully, holding the delicate cup with gentle hands. It was a teacup Ben had gifted you as part of your Christmas present a few years ago, and you used it every chance you got.

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

It was your first Christmas as a couple, and the first Christmas you had experienced with snow, it was perfect to say the least! The morning had started with soft, lazy kisses, that was until Frankie had decided she felt rather left out, and had jumped up on the bed and began giving you her own kisses. “No, bad girl. Off the bed!” Ben laughed, as he watched her attack you with slobbery kisses. You could hardly complain, you would always give Frankie attention if she wanted it.

  “She’s right you know; we really do need to get up.” You grin, sitting up fully causing Frankie to slide down onto your lap, before she jumped off the bed, and trotted back into the hall where she had appeared from.

Ben groaned, rolling onto his stomach and burying his face against the pile of pillows he slept on, a habit which you had adopted not long after you began dating. “But I don’t wanna get up.” He whined like a petulant child, all that was missing was him to begin stomping his feet.

You reach your hand out, carding your fingers through his golden curls, tugging gently at the roots. “If you don’t get up, then you won’t get your presents…”

That was enough to get his attention, and you watched as Ben shot up out of bed, his boxer shorts riding low on his hips. You bite your lip, trailing your eyes over his toned physique, maybe you could spare another few minutes just staring at him? “Well, are you coming?” Ben smirked, catching your wondering gaze and sending a wink your way.

With a roll of your eyes, and a sigh you drag yourself from the bed, slipping on a pair of bunny slippers. They were a gimmick gift from your best friend, and despite starting as a tacky piece of footwear, you now wore them all the time. Making your way around the bed, you meet Ben in the doorway, taking his hand in yours and leading you into the sitting room. In one of the corners of the room sat a short, plump Christmas tree, decorated in baubles, tinsel and fairy lights. The lights had been left on overnight. “So Santa knew where to leave the presents.” You had insisted with a childlike grin.

Frankie sat eagerly beneath the tree, having already found her present, it was a new doggy bed, wrapped in jolly red and green wrapping paper, with a large gold bow around the square package. You knew she would enjoy it more if the wrapping was no longer on it, but to remove said wrapping that would require her moving, and it didn’t look like she would be doing so for quite some time.   You and Ben sat cross legged on the floor around the tree, both of you having snuck out during the night to place your presents around the base of the tree. Ben hands you a box to start with, the design on the paper was an ombre effect starting in navy blue, moving into mauve, and ending in peach, with flecks of silver scattered within, and a matching bow on top. “Whatever you do, please don’t shake the box!” Ben warns quickly, holding his hand out before you.

You nod slowly, making sure to handle the box with a great deal of care. You remove the ribbon, leaning forward and wrapping it around Ben’s forehead with a triumphant grin, before slowly peeling back the paper, finally you lift the lid of the box and gasp. Your hands are shaking as you lift the porcelain cup from the bubble wrap which surrounded it. Inside the careful wrapping lay a petite teacup, it was cream coloured, with a gold handle. Around the cup, there were tiny painted flowers, of purple, pink and blue, delicate leaves and vines surrounding the bunches. “Oh Ben, this is too much…” You grin, as you take out the matching saucer, holding them between shaking hands. You place them on the ground beside you, crawling forwards, and kissing Ben fiercely, all thoughts of the other presents forgotten for the time being.

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

  Ben had it all planned, all he had to do now was get everything set up, which was why he had allowed himself over nine hours to do so. There was an awful lot that he had to get done for the party, and seeing as he had declined offers of help at every turn, he now had to task of preparing everything alone.

The plan seemed simple enough, but the execution was where the difficulties began. He somehow had to turn the normal looking family home, into a haunted house, he had spared no expense in buying the necessary props, but he wanted it to look good, and he knew it would take a fair bit of work, to get fake plastic gravestones to look realistic.

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

As the afternoon progressed, you began getting yourself ready for tonight’s fiesta. You had spent the day watching old movies, with Frankie curled up beside you on the bed. In fact, the only time you had left the bed for any extended period of time, was when you had gone to get your uber eats order when it had arrived, that had marked the longest conversation you had had all day, something that was sure to change as the night progressed.

You had been planning your costume for a few weeks now, and had kept it hidden from everyone, not that anyone had really discussed what they were dressing as. Though you had a feeling Rami and Lucy would once again come up with both the cutest, and most epic couples costume in existence. Your hair was the part that would take the longest, you had to get it prepared for the wig you had spent hours styling just the other day. You had worn wigs before, you were well known in the cosplay community for your quirky costumes, though it didn’t matter how many times you combed, braided, twisted and pinned your hair back, it was never a pleasant experience. You had considered shaving your head again, at least then you wouldn’t have to worry about the tedious part of applying a wig, but with Winter well on its way, you figured now was not the best time to do so. Only a few years ago, you had done just that however, you were at a convention with a few friends, and had just gone to put on your wig for your costume. At the time, you had exceptionally long hair, which meant you absolutely needed a wig cap before even considering applying said wig. Of course, you being you, meant you forgot to bring any wig caps, and no one had a spare one for you to use. It was suggested you forgo the wig, but to you that was never an option, so instead, you shaved your head! And just like that, voila, instant wig cap! It had taken years for your hair to grow back out, but when you look back on the event, you wouldn’t change a thing.

With the towering white wig in place, and the finishing touches applied to your makeup, all that was left now was to apply the multi piece costume, which would be a task and a half. Somehow you had to tie up a corset by yourself, when normally you would ask someone to help! “What are you looking at?” You laughed, as you turn on the spot, trying to get a better view of the back of the corset, in an effort to tie it up securely. Frankie sat beside you, nudging one of her toys in your direction. “Sweetie, I can’t play right now, I can’t bend down that far!” You can’t help but chuckle at that, realising only now that your movements were extremely limited in this costume. “How on Earth am I going to bend enough to sit in a car?”

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

 Ben clapped his hands together as he looked over his handy work, a grin slipping onto his lips, everything looked pretty damned good! The fake gravestones littered the front lawn, with zombie and skeleton hands sticking out around them. Jack o lanterns lined the footpath up to the house, and sat around the balcony by the front door, all sporting different expression, some shocked, happy, scared, and a few who were either dead or asleep. Inside, he had set up a large table with all types of haunting snacks, sausages cut to look like fingers, strawberries dipped in white chocolate that resembled ghosts, a giant platter of spaghetti and meatballs, the meatballs had a dollop of sour cream in the centre and a ring of black olive in the middle, serving as eyeballs in gore, and of course, because no adult party would be complete without them, jelly shots in syringes!

Around the house, fake cobwebs were scattered around the ceiling, and covering some of the furniture, there was a giant ghost hung up just above the fireplace which seemed to float with the breeze in the house. “Perfectly cheesy.” Ben grinned as he gazed around, there were other surprises for his guests to find during the night, but for what he could see, everything looked perfect.

He made his way up to what used to be his bedroom, but had long ago been transformed into a study, using the familiar space to get into his costume. People would be arriving shortly, and it simply wouldn’t do if the host wasn’t dressed! The blue bellbottom jeans felt all too familiar, after spending months dressing in 70’s regalia for the part of Roger Taylor, he had become so used to wearing them, that it was almost a struggle to go back to wearing skinny jeans.  He tucked a blue button down into the waist of his jeans, and slipped on a white jumper, popping the collar out of the neck so to tie around the bright red ascot. Finally, he toed on a pair of brown loafers, before gelling his hair back, and combing it into the best rendition of a pompadour he could achieve. “Let’s split up gang!” He chuckled as he looked himself over in the mirror, before remembering he was currently alone in the house, and you were nowhere around to laugh at his stupidity.

The sound of a car door slamming shut brought him back to attention, darting out of his old room, and towards the front door. As he went out to the front yard to greet his guests, he grinned as it became apparent that Lucy and Rami were the first to arrive, ever punctual. “Fuck, you guys look great!” Ben grinned, as he wrapped them both in a tight hug, one in each arm. Lucy looked flawless in a long-sleeved mermaid style black dress, with what would likely be the deepest cut neckline he had ever seen, her lips were coated in red that matched her fingernails, and she wore a pin straight black wig. Rami had his hair slicked back, and had pencilled on a thin moustache, he had donned a black suit with white stripes, and a black tie. “Please tell me Joe is dressed as Wednesday.” Ben howled with laughter, trying to picture his crazy friend as the sullen child. He couldn’t imagine anyone would pull of Mr and Mrs Addams the way Lucy and Rami did.

“Sadly no, he claims he had a better costume in mind! But we did try!” Rami laughs, as other people begin to arrive, cars parking all along the suburban street.

“Is Y/N here too?” Lucy asked excitedly, looking around the garden for your familiar face, only to come away looking disappointed.

  “Not yet, she’ll be here soon though. I didn’t want to ruin the surprise of how everything looked.” Ben smiled, as he caught a glimpse of what could only be descried as the oddest couples costume he had ever seen. “Gwil, Joe… Nice to see you both!” The two men in question walked past the mock graveyard, and grinned at the small group, Joe waving, while Gwil went in for the hug just as Ben had. “I’m just gonna cut to the chase right now, guys what the fuck are you wearing?” Ben couldn’t conceal his laughter, and Gwil turned to Joe, and simply sighed.

“Well to be clear, I just want you all to know, that this was always going to be my costume, I came up with this idea!” Gwilym grumbles, while Joe nods along eagerly.

“That is true, I won’t steal the credit for this phenomenal idea!” Joe chimes in, only to earn a glare from the Welshmen.

The men in question, were currently dressed as two characters from Peter Pan, but two rather unlikely characters. Gwil was dressed as a rather wonderful Captain hook, complete with black curled wig, grease moustache, red coat, and buckled shoes. Of course, he had a hook to really finish off the look. He really did look wonderful. Whereas Joe, had somehow squeezed himself into a Tinkerbell dress, which was at least two sizes too small. The green dress barely zipped up past his ass and was far too short to be considered decent. There were two pompoms glued to the end of a pair of flip flops, and the wings he sported on his back, were clearly designed for a child. “He was complaining that he didn’t know what to wear tonight, and I stupidly told him I was going as Captain Hook. I didn’t think he would do anything with that information! Or if he did, I thought maybe, he would go as Mr Smee! Not fucking Tinkerbell!”

Gwil was obviously frustrated, but at the same time, it appeared as if he were fighting off a grin, Joe looked ridiculous and with him stood beside Gwil, it only helped to boost how good the Captain’s outfit looked. “As if I would dress as Mister Smee! I look terrible in striped shirts!” Joe laughed, shimmying his shoulders just enough to wriggle the wings. “Besides, I look fabulous!”

“I absolutely do not believe in fairies.” Gwil muttered, causing Joe to press a hand against his chest in shock.

“Well, if there was ever any question, its sure as hell been answered now.  This is not a children’s party.” You grin, walking up to the group, your extravagant costume drawing the attention of the gang. Your white wig had been teased within an inch of its life, now standing on end adding a great deal of height to your appearance. Your face, neck, arms and chest had been covered in pale lilac face paint, blue eyeshadow reached up to over drawn, arched eyebrows, and a shockingly vibrant shade of red lined your lips. A golden shell necklace rest over your chest, and triangular purple earrings hung low from your ears. The dress had taken a while to create, but looked stunning in your opinion, The top was a sleeveless inky black fitted dress, which contoured to the shape of your body, all the way down to your ankles, where it fanned out into eight stuffed tentacles, with the underside a deep purple with cut out foam disks of light purple, glued on to form suckers. Finally, you had a pair of black silky opera gloves, which really completed the look.

“Did I miss the part where this was supposed to be Disney themed?” Rami laughed, as you gravitated to Lucy’s side, attacking her cheeks in kisses as she did the same to you, both grinning madly at each other.

“Um, Y/N love, what are you wearing?” Ben asks shyly, as he steps up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist securely.

You tilt your head back and gaze up at him, lifting an exceptionally tall eyebrow up at him. “I thought that was rather obvious love, I’m Ursula, you know, the sea witch…”

Ben’s eyebrows pull together in the middle as he gazes over you, he wouldn’t lie, he liked what he saw, but it was not what he had been expecting. “I thought we were going to do a couple costume remember? You were going to be Daphne to my Fred.”

You turn in his arms, cocking your head to the left as you regard him with a sceptical look. “Benji, we didn’t agree to a couples costume…”

“Yes, we did!” Ben nods eagerly.

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

You lay on the sofa, more like collapsed, with your had resting in Ben’s lap, occasionally he would massage his fingers against your scalp, but mostly he was there just to keep you company. You either had the cold from hell, or the bubonic plague, you were undecided which just yet, but either way you felt like absolute death. Ben was off from filming for a few weeks, and had decided to spend that time with you, sick or no, he had no intentions of leaving your side. “Babe, what if you get sick?”  You whined for the millionth time this week, only to be met with a groan from Ben beneath you.

“If I get sick, then I get sick. Now will you be quiet and watch the movie.” Ben chuckled, passing you the box of tissues as you went searching for it with grabby hands. You had no fight left in you, especially now that the cold medicine you had taken was beginning to kick in. If Ben wanted to stay with you, you would let him, besides, you rather liked the company. And with the fever you had been running recently, having your own personal space heater cuddle up to you, was exactly what the Doctor ordered!

The television went by relatively unnoticed on your end, though Ben seemed mildly invested in the film that had appeared on Netflix’s autoplay. You were vaguely aware of the film being that of the early 2000’s scooby doo remake, a movie you had loved as a child, but now tried to avoid. You were just beginning to drift off to sleep, the medication you had taken making you incredibly drowsy, when Ben’s voice woke you. “We should do this for Halloween.” He suggested, petting your head softly, as his breathing lulled you back to sleep.

“Do what Benny?”

“Dress as Fred and Daphne, we could….” That was the last thing you heard, before you drifted back into the land of nod.

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

“Benjamin! I was doped up on so many different medications that week! You could’ve been talking about anything I would’ve been none the wiser!” You burst out, slapping his shoulder playfully. Ben pouts down at you, but you quickly wipe the look away with a gentle kiss.   “I promise we can do a couple costume next year, alright? Though, maybe let me pick the costumes, I have a few ideas.”

Ben grins softly, pulling you against his side with a strong arm, keeping it locked around your waist securely. “Depends, have you got any ideas that will beat Rami and Lucy?”

The couple in question grin, as Rami takes Lucy’s hand and kissed from her knuckles, up to her shoulder. “Come now, we all know who the real competition is when it comes to couple costumes.” Rami ceases his kisses, as he looks up at his Morticia, grinning wickedly at her. “Joe and Gwil are clearly the cutest couple here tonight!”

The howling of laughter from you group can surely be heard across the whole street, not that any of you could possibly care. “Honestly, you guys are absolute couple goals.” You tease, as you retrieve your phone from the slit you had created in the side of your dress. The one good thing about making your own costume, meant you could add pockets wherever and whenever you wanted! “Smile you two.” You grin, as you aim the camera towards the so called couple, Joe leans against Gwil’s side, pretending to aim a kiss against his cheek, while Gwil raises his hook ready to strike the fairy.

“Oh boy, Instagram is going to have a field day with this.” Ben grins, as he looks at the photo over your shoulder, picking a filter before you upload it, with the caption #couplegoals.

“What will your fiancé think when she see’s that?” You turn towards Joe, who simply shrugs, his wings rising with the gesture.

“Need I remind you, that said fiancé dressed as a dinosaur last year for my Halloween party, which you so rudely did not attend!”

“Hey, I’ve said I’m sorry! I already had Luce giving me a hard time over that, I don’t need you doing the same!” You defend, looking up at Ben as if to ask for him to provide some kind of backup.

“You left Ben all alone, dressed as he was!” Gwil chimes in, grinning at the disappointed look you shoot his way.

“Whoa now, that costume was all Ben’s idea! I simply made it; I didn’t come up with it!”

This causes a collective gasp from the group, all eyes now on the blushing blonde. “Excuse me Benjamin, that is not what you told me last year!” Gwil declares.

Ben hangs his head low, and all you can do is laugh at his obvious discomfort. “Alright fine, sexy Patrick Star was 100% my idea. But after Y/N said she couldn’t come to the party anymore, I decided to say that it had been her costume I was wearing.”

You slide your arm down to your side, slipping your fingers around Ben’s gently, and giving them a soft squeeze. “Well I think you looked damn sexy. Have you still got those boots?” You wink, the blush fading from his cheeks.

“Ugh, y’all need to keep it PG!” Joe groans, covering his ears before he can hear anymore that you have to say.

“Joe has a point, besides, I believe I was promised jelly shots was I not?” You grin, taking a few steps towards the house, tugging Ben’s arm with you, keeping your hands firmly locked together.

“Aye, I did. They’re just on the table inside.”

“Lucy come on, it’s been a hot minute since we did any kind of shots!” You call over your shoulder, as Lucy begins to drag Rami inside in a similar manner to you and Ben.

“That’s because the last time we did shots together, you called Ben, who came and picked you up, while you left me in the club!”

“I forgot you were there!”

“We fucking arrived together!” Lucy cries, though the laughter is clear in her voice. You make your way over to the food table, grinning at the sight of gore themed snacks.

“Fuck Ben, this looks amazing! You did this all by yourself?”

Ben grins from ear to ear, feet shuffling against the floor gently. “Yeah, I did.”

“You’ve done an amazing job mate, Gwil grins patting Ben’s shoulder, as Joe shoots him a set of very outdated finger guns.

“I’m really proud of you, even if I am slightly jealous that you did this all without me.” You giggle, before pressing another kiss to his plump lips, the taste of his last cigarette lingering on his breathe.

“Hey Y/N, are we doing this or not?” Lucy calls, pulling you away from the moment you and Ben had been sharing. You turn on the spot, and look over the table at Lucy, who was holding two syringes in her hands, one for you and one for herself. “Did you make them very strong Ben?” She grins, waving the shots above her head excitedly.

“They are pretty strong, so maybe be careful?”

“I hear your suggestion, and I shall promptly ignore it!” You laugh, as you join Lucy on the opposite side of the table, taking your phone out once again to snap a photo. You wanted to get as many pictures in before you all got too tipsy, and started taking photos of things that should never see the light of day. You hold one of the syringes up to Lucy’s neck, who pretends to faint in your arms, her hand held to her forehead. The take the photo and grin at it, taking a mental note to post it in the morning.

You raise the syringe before you, as the others of your group either to the same with one of the shots, or a drink of some other kind. “I’d like to propose a toast, to Ben, for planning the spookiest Halloween party we have ever had!”

“To Ben!” A chorus echoes throughout the home, as various other guests take part in thanking the host. You grin at Lucy, tilting your head back, and dispense the shot down your throat, the slight burn of a rather large amount of vodka stinging the back of your throat.

You grin across at your fiancé, who held an icy cold beer in his hand, as he spoke with Rami, Joe and Gwil, all four of them talking over one another, it was a wonder any of them could understand each other. Ben catches your eyes, and winks at you, you laugh softly, before blowing a kiss his way, taking another syringe shot for yourself and Lucy. “Damn, could you two be any more adorable?” She smirks, taking the shot from you happily.

“Oh we will be peak adorable at the wedding next year. Frankie is going to be my flower girl.” You giggle, causing Lucy to squeal in absolute delight. “Don’t tell anyone!”

My Masterlist

[xadoheandterra]

Title: Bitter Night Fandom: Final Fantasy XV Chapters: I | II | III | IV | V | VI Characters: Noctis Lucis Caelum, Ardyn Izunia | Ardyn Lucis Caelum, Somnus Lucis Caelum Tags: Time Travel, Fix-It Of Sorts, Angst, Hurt, Comfort Eventually, Ardyn and Noctis are both Assholes, Fuck the Gods, Violence, Blood, Referenced Torture, Misunderstandings Summary: He hadn’t known what he was doing. All he knew was that he felt bitter in this endless night–bitter that the story needed to end like this. It felt like the Bad Ending and–well, Noctis hated getting Bad Endings in his games. He refused to.

So Noctis refused.

The bowl in Somnus’ lap had completely passed Ardyn by until Celestia Ulric pushed the throne into the room and Somnus settled the offering of food onto the counter table. Ardyn had eyes only for his brother and not the lady that moved him into the room, so he barely noted her presence aside from Somnus’ soft and stilted words of thanks.

“I will gather up the sweetwater and return,” the woman said, and Ardyn spared her half a glance from the floor when he saw the faint flush to Somnus’ cheeks even as he sat straight and stiff in his throne. She looked to him, a kind smile that wrinkled at the edges of her face, and then turned and shut the door to the room with a silent motion.

Ardyn looked back to Somnus and his hip throbbed hard enough to force him to grimace as he took in the sight of his brother almost greedily. How long had it been since he’d seen his little brother? Ardyn couldn’t recall the last time Somnus deigned him a visit in his prison, although his arrogance seemed to have grown in the intervening years given the wheeled throne his brother seated himself in. His hair was grayer, too—older, maybe, Ardyn thought given the haggard appearance and the scraggily facial hair. The Somnus in his memories had been meticulously clean shaven if only because every attempt at a beard was a patchwork of embarrassment.

The silence deafened the room, suffocated it—neither brother wanted to speak and Ardyn couldn’t fathom why Somnus kept his silence—why he stared at him with wide eyes and his skin so pale. This must simply be another form of torture, like the chains and the darkness that had been Ardyn’s companion for so long. Only Ardyn couldn’t understand the motivation here. Should he not have been left to rot? Had that not been Somnus’ intention when he’d bound him upon the prison island, guarded by the Gods and their fickle whims?

Somnus looked away first—as he should, Ardyn felt a little vindictive at that even as he shifted to get his weight off of his hip and more into a seated position on the ground. Being lower than his brother grated, but Ardyn didn’t trust his legs to hold him just yet and he refused to show a sign of further weakness to the man who cut him down so callously once before. Ardyn watched how Somnus busied himself with silverware and napkins with an almost nervous sort of tick to his movements.

“The soup is mostly broth,” Somnus said, voice softer and quieter than the Somnus that haunted Ardyn’s nightmares. He seemed almost timid—afraid.

Ardyn fought back a sneer. “To poison me with?”

The sharp glance Somnus gave him in response was full of anger and gritted teeth. Somnus’ blue-grey eyes flashed almost purple and it took all of Ardyn’s meagre self-control to bite back the seething burst of Scourge beneath his skin.

“I got you out of there, I’m not trying to damn well kill you,” Somnus ground out.

“Out of my prison from whence you had me chained?” Ardyn laughed, a bitter cloying thing in his throat. “To come and gloat now, have you? With food and kindness while you sit upon a wheeled throne? Yes, brother, I know you don’t aim to kill me—you’ve already tried after all.”

The muscle in Somnus’ cheek twitched and his hands clenched into fists in his lap. With a sharp hiss of breath Ardyn watched as Somnus moved his hands to grasp at the wheels, white knuckled. His arms shook as he shoved the throne away from the counter and back, forced it to move by the clunky design of the wheels on either side. They weren’t positioned for someone to grasp easily—thin and small structures that they were. Ardyn watched this, and watched how Somnus remained stiff backed in the chair—it reminded Ardyn of when they were children before Ardyn could understand his gift to take well enough to help—and he detested the worry that gnawed in his gut.

“It’s a wheelchair,” Somnus said eventually. “Not a fucking throne.” He scrubbed his hand over his face and the stiffness eased bit by bit until Somnus slumped slightly. Ardyn watched the way Somnus forced himself to breath, to relax from the stiffness that took him the moment he saw Ardyn from that doorway. A grimace burst across his face—a tightening of his jaw that gentled, a narrowing of his eyes that softened with work and breath that could’ve been pained. Ardyn watched the emotions raced across Somnus’ face—pride, fear, resentment, desolation and so many more he couldn’t name, far too out of practice of reading Somnus these years apart.

Ardyn looked away and over to the soup; bitterness churned within him and he swallowed the faintest taste of bile as he said from the floor, “I do not hunger anymore.”

Somnus snorted out a bright, “Bullshit,” and Ardyn glanced to him with narrowed eyes full of gold and a fevered tinge of sickness around the edges. It wasn’t a lie exactly—Ardyn had gone long enough without food to not feel the pangs of hunger anymore, although he felt the slightest bit faint and like his head were stuffed full of cotton and he knew those feelings from a life of Before—

—not enough food for rotten Solheimr rats; sneers and jeers and spits of disgust aplenty but food not so much. Not for two, not for young’uns, and definitely not for those who bore Solheimr so plain across their faces with dark hair and pale-as-ice eyes and magic that sparks at fingertips and makes the world bleed in royal purples. Enough for one, though yes, and so he goes without because the slighter of them needs more and needs must after all. He knows the bite of hunger, but he refuses to let the little dreamer know it too—

“I do not need to eat, nor do I desire food, Somnus,” Ardyn sneered but the glance Somnus gave him—stern, distant, but something edged in the corners that wanted to steal Ardyn’s breath with how utterly repentant it was—and Ardyn glanced down at his lap almost chastised as Somnus called upon his bluff.

“You can’t get to your feet,” Somnus said, voice back to soft although there was a bit of steel in it, something like regret, “and while you probably don’t feel hungry I can bet you feel dizzy and weak.”

“Been reading, have we?” Ardyn said, slightly petulant, but then he froze at the way Somnus looked away with his lips turned down and his gaze off to the side to some distance that Ardyn couldn’t name.

Eventually Somnus shook his head and muttered, “I know what it feels like, is all,” and a part of Ardyn went cold at the thought.

Who dared—the Scourge raged and given the sucked in sharp breath from Somnus it figured that Ardyn wore the darkness plain upon his face. He struggled with it—the plain fear in his brother’s face was a heady sort of thing that almost felt like addiction except it also made Somnus look so horribly young while being so horribly old that Ardyn had to close his eyes.

He sucked in breath after breath, held it, released it, only to repeat until the chittering of fury bit at the edges and not at the forefront of his mind. This was Somnus after all—no one starved him, Ardyn could be certain of that, which meant for some twisted reason Somnus perhaps starved himself once or more and what could’ve caused that Ardyn didn’t know. At any rate he calmed himself and when he looked up it was to see Somnus off in that middle-distance again, entirely elsewhere, except his hands gave away the fear that still threatened him in the manner in which they shook.

Ardyn didn’t apologize; Somnus didn’t apologize. They were both horrible bastards like that as they snipped at one another and dug into old wounds with bitterness and rage. Ardyn sighed.

“Is it too much to ask you to help me up?” Ardyn said bitterly, even as he grasped his fingers around the small table and worked to pull himself to his feet and off of the floor. Somnus shrugged.

“Won’t be much use,” the younger mumbled, words half under his breath. His hands clenched into his pants until the knuckles were white and they trembled less from fear and more from the strain—and maybe rage. “I can’t exactly get out of this chair.”

Ardyn jerked his head around to Somnus with wide eyes, already on his feet even if he wanted to topple back over as vertigo rushed to make him feel like standing up was actually standing down and swimming through molasses. It took him a moment longer to regain his sense of balance, but once he had Ardyn stumbled forward with an almost drunken gait as he tried to work limbs that hadn’t been used in so long—eventually they gave back out underneath him but that was fine because when he did topple to his knees it was at Somnus’ feet with his hands grasped around Somnus’ legs in a way that should hurt. His fingers bore down and grasped, but Somnus said nothing aside from a scowl across his lips so familiar that it hurt Ardyn to see.

“You can’t walk,” Ardyn said, voice a whisper, and he watched how Somnus grit his teeth and ground his jaw together.

“Neither can you, asshole,” Somnus grumbled. “Unless you call that flailing walking.”

Ardyn snorted but squeezed his hands tighter and watched how Somnus stared down at their grasp upon his legs with something inscrutable in his gaze. “You can’t even feel me hurting you, can you.”

Somnus reached out and hesitantly touched Ardyn’s hands, dug his fingers between Ardyn’s palms and his legs, but he didn’t pry them off. He merely touched, light and hesitant, even as he said, “No.”

“How—”

Somnus huffed. “I defied the Gods. How else?”

Ardyn couldn’t stop the burst of rage at that—the words so casually said, as if they didn’t matter at all. Defied the Gods, by the Six what had Somnus done without Ardyn there to reign him in and remind him to always—always—be deferent to the Astrals. One did not push and pry and question the whims of beings that could strike them from this very Star on a mere chance but then—but then Somnus had always been foolhardy and Ardyn—but this, this was like being spit in the face by the Six to whom still held his loyalty despite it all, despite the pain and desperation that suffused his darkened soul. Ardyn still had hope that one day they would see fit to let him die, even if for now they saw fit to punish him because he didn’t do it right nevermind that Ardyn doubted he could’ve, in the end.

Yet still they stole Somnus’ legs from him, and Ardyn felt fury. Had not Ardyn sacrificed enough between the two of them so that Somnus should not? Or did the Six still feel that punishment was deserved upon them both—one for their piety and one for their lack? Ardyn had thought—but perhaps Ardyn had thought wrong and that in the intervening years the Six would deign his interference as faulty, especially if Somnus truly did decide to tell the Gods to go and fuck right off with their grand and meddling plans like he so threatened as a child more than once.

“What use are Gods that care not for us insignificant creatures upon this Star?” Somnus hissed in his ear. “We are but ants to them, toys to their bidding. Why do I owe them my allegiance—they who know nothing of the world of mortal men?” His breath ghosted Ardyn’s neck and Ardyn stiffened as he struggled—

“Ardyn?” Somnus said, voice hesitant and quiet in the way of a child and Ardyn breathed even as it felt like his vision darkened and spots danced at his eyes. He choked on his breath and pressed his face into Somnus’ knees and keened faintly. “Hey, uh,” Somnus fumbled over his words, awkward and unsure of himself—and it felt like Ardyn was dealing with his little brother again, fifteen and fumbling around with his first crush. “It’s—it’s okay?”

Ardyn trembled.

“Fuck. Right. It’s not okay but…but I knew it was gonna happen,” Somnus mumbled, sucked in a breath between his teeth. “Not like I was gonna be able to walk forever.”

“You should have been,” Ardyn said into his knees, words muffled. “If I had been—”

“What?” Somnus jerked in his seat and Ardyn could feel the hesitant fingers at the edge of his hair. “What? No, Ardyn I—it was my fault. It wasn’t���fuck.” Somnus’ hands shook. “You didn’t send a Miralith after me, you fucking shithead,” Somnus eventually concluded, voice distant, and just the slightest bit unsure even as Ardyn jerked back and stared up at Somnus with wide and surprised eyes.

“I—no!” Ardyn said, voice raising as he leaned forward until he practically climbed himself into Somnus’ lap so that their nose touched as he hissed and spit and snarled. “Do you really think I had any of that—that they would have—I was not tainted then, Somnus!”

Somnus jerked, surprise shifted across his face, and then he looked away with a half-mumbled, “Right.” He breathed in and relaxed slightly, still stiff and wary but less so and Ardyn frowned in confusion—“Right. I—forgot.”

“You forgot,” Ardyn said dryly, and Somnus ducked his head.

Neither said anything to one another for a long while until Somnus grasped at the wheels and pulled backward. Ardyn let him, confused and wrung out from the entire conversation wherein nothing was said at all.

“Eat your soup,” Somnus mumbled. “It’s probably gotten cold,” and he forcefully wheeled himself to the door. He fumbled for it, hands trembling and shaking and a part of Ardyn wanted to get up and tug Somnus out of the throne—the chair—and bundle his brother up and away and whisper apologies to him and beg for forgiveness. A part of him longed to rip out Somnus’ throat as visions of Aera’s broken and bleeding form crossed his mind. Ardyn stayed still while Somnus struggled with the door, and then watched as Somnus wheeled from the room.

It felt strange; Somnus defied the Gods and was burned by it. Ardyn was not in his prison. His brother brought him food. Perhaps in the end he was still dreaming, Ardyn thought, but then his hip throbbed and the smell of the soup reached his nose and his gut churned in a terrible way and Ardyn merely stared down at his hands in contemplative thought.

Noctis left the room a little struck by the thought that yes, Ardyn really was calling him Somnus, and no, Ardyn did not blame him for not killing him permanently like was Prophesied because Ardyn didn't remember even if for half of the conversation it felt like it. Because instead yeah Noctis had to suffer an injury as a child that nearly killed him, that fucking Somnus had at one point also suffered as a child unless he read that whole bit completely ass backward. He might've. Noctis could never quite tell with Ardyn because truth and lies were subjective and messy and Ardyn breathed both like they were the complete opposite thing.

[writingformeandyou]

A/N: This is a part 2/reunion part regarding one of my most recent head canons I’ve had! Honestly at some parts it hurt me because ouch I don’t like causing these boys pain but either way it was a kinda fun write and I hope you guys agree that the guys would act how I wrote that they would. (Request has been altered greatly so that it wouldn’t involve real world people and such.)

Basically the request: How would the chocobros react to being reunited with their daughter after five years? Their daughter has accomplishments such as being made a dame by a queen and getting a boyfriend that she actually cares for. Would the chocobros take their daughter back or not?

TLSS meaning: The long story short

Noctis:

Noctis being a King that wants to be involved with his people (blame his relationship with Prom for that) likes to do things where he is talking to his people or even occasionally goes onto talk shows to give updates on his country or meet a lucky civilian and get a insider look on how things are from a civilian's perspective. One day he was doing just that, going onto a talk show that is, so as Ignis lectures the makeup crew about making sure that he (Noctis) looked good and to try to take years of age off of him he watched the T.V. to see the talk show host talk about the events at hand and invited a young woman onto the stage, usually Noctis is excited to meet the people of his country but this woman made the pain of many years come back and makes tears fall down his face as his composure cracks. This woman is his baby girl, his daughter, one of the people that he loved the most- no one of the people that he loves the most… and one of the people that hurt him the most. Ignis has to usher the makeup crew out of the room and help Noctis with the onslaught of emotions and tears that have come to attack him. Overall his kingly calm that he had developed over the five years broke and he was a sobbing mess. Ignis soon after would have to leave to question why the ex-princess and not a civilian was there but Noctis remains watching the screen through his streaming tears. The interview of his daughter goes like this, at first she is introduced to the audience as the princess of Lucis- she corrects the host and tells them that she is just an average woman now, the host talks about what she’d been up to for the past couple years; Becoming a celeb, being made a dame by the monarchy in a neighboring country, getting herself a boyfriend that she genuinely loved, and learning about the huge mistake she made. This man is a very simple man you see, he loves his daughter and will never stop loving her. Noctis will end up rising from his seat and will grab the cane that he uses to walk because of the arthritis in his leg from a injury he got that felt like a millennia ago and will walk out onto the stage a crying mess and will rush to his daughter with his arms open and the two would embrace.

TLSS: Noctis loves his daughter no matter what and became depressed after cutting her off due to his responsibility as king and due to that responsibility he would have to hide how he felt for the sake of the country, which he did fairly well but when he was alone he was in shambles. When he was reunited with his daughter he was taken aback with distraught and lost the composure he built over time but after learning of the lessons his daughter learned and the life she built he would be a sobbing mess and would hug her and never let go (not true he would have to let go eventually). This man is incredibly happy to have his daughter back and the people would see it because he would become healthier and would act slightly younger. Though even though there is a happy ending there is one problem, Noctis would not be able to give her her throne back which with her developments would not be too problematic and she would likely fly up to a noble rank either way. She just has to remember one thing, her father will always love her.

-----

Ignis:

For the past five years this man without the distraction of his duties faired horribly with the betrayal of his daughter and is one of the most depressed out of the four in this situation. On this day Ignis is requested to come over to a talk show for a surprise and to be interviewed, Noctis and the rest of the guys didn’t give him a choice. There Ignis was in hair and makeup talking to the hairstylist about his mostly grey hair when suddenly a familiar and haunting voice echoed through the t.v., there she was, his little girl, talking to the show host. Ignis would crack, usually around other people he kept his cool but seeing her has made tears streaking down his cheeks and has him beginning to dissociate. The hairstylist leaves him alone with his thoughts when he hears the talk show host talking to his daughter- no more like talking about his daughter, talking about his daughter’s successes; Becoming a celeb, being made a dame by the monarchy in a neighboring country, getting herself a boyfriend that she genuinely loved, and learning about the huge mistake she made. Ignis is in shock but smiles a broken but genuine smile, it feels as though it’s been forever since he’s done so and almost feels like he needs to learn how to do it again but is so proud of the woman that his daughter became so he decides to wipe his cheeks and clean his glasses before leaving the room to go on stage. Ignis would walk on stage and walk to his daughter before engulfing her in a hug.

TLSS: Ignis loves his daughter unconditionally and she has him wrapped tightly around her little finger from the moment she was born, though in the case of their confrontation this is one of the few things she wasn’t able to win and even then Ignis wasn’t the one who cut his daughter off, it was she who cut him off; She was the one who broke his heart. Like previously mentioned Ignis loves his daughter unconditionally so when he learns of her improvements on herself he is happy to try to make amends and the guys and their kids (including the prince) are at the Citadel cheering Ignis on as he and his daughter reconcile. Ignis will stop dissociating soon after this and will have more genuine smiles soon after. The bond of Ignis and his daughter is unaffected negatively by their power struggle and the two will have a stronger bond than ever and are now likely to be the happiest they’ve ever been in five years.

--—

Prompto:

Much like Ignis Prompto didn’t react well over the span of five years, this beautiful sun drop faded into a dim image of what he once was, his light was gone. Prompto became strongly focused on his duties as general, he changed. Prompto became quieter, stricter, more serious, pretty much ignored his issues, and acted as if he was indebted to the king no matter what Noctis had to say about it. One day Noctis managed to rip Prompto from work and dragged him to a studio for a talk show, no matter the debates from the general the king wouldn’t relent and insisted on taking him so he went because he would do anything for his best buddy. This goes much more differently for Prompto than the others. Noctis would not allow Prompto to know of his true intent of the talk show as he helped plan it but he is concerned that if he knew that he’d leave… Prompto just isn’t readable nowadays and Noctis is unsure of how he will act but he won’t know until it happens. Eventually, hair and makeup has the general cleaned up and looking less like he’d traveled through hell and back so he and Noctis walk out on the stage together. Noctis insists that he himself walks out first so Prompto would roll his eyes and let out a strained chuckle because Noctis never acts like this and Prompto thinks him going out without him is a joke, nope it is part of an elaborate plan. Prompto is told to come out with his eyes closed so not without reluctance he does so and is told to hold out his hands when he reaches the stage so thinking he is taking Noctis’s hands to be led to a surprise or something he does as told and hands are placed in his, but they aren’t the hands he was expecting, he was expecting Noctis’s time and battle-worn hands but instead two soft hands take his and he is told to open his eyes which he does, the first thing he sees is his daughter, his little ray of sunshine, holding his hands with watering eyes as she apologizes. Prompto is taken aback with shock and whispers something about how she called him weak for being on her ex’s side so she starts crying and telling him that it isn’t true which soon enough has him crying and all and all they are a crying mess and Prompto is clinging to his daughter for dear life as the talk show host explains his dear child’s changes in life such as becoming a celeb, being made a dame by the monarchy in a neighboring country, getting herself a boyfriend that she genuinely loved, and learning about how huge her mistake of hurting the prince and her father was.

TLSS: Prompto’s child is one of his purposes for living. If you take his child he shatters and loses a purpose to live, I can’t quite say if he decided things weren’t worth it as it pains me to think about it but I think he did. Prompto changes over the five years, he isn’t handling his depression the same way as Noctis, and Ignis, Noctis’s way of coping being just simply crying in private or in the presence of a friend and doing his duties as king and making sure that his people are happy while Ignis’s is, for the most part, dissociating and staring off in the distance when he even gives himself a moment to think about his child. Prompto will take his daughter back with no second thoughts. Prompto does not improve quickly, actually, he is the slowest to improve. Prompto is still difficult to read for a long time and still has a rough persona for some time but he begins to joke around again like his old self. Prompto is a step closer to his old self on the day he is reunited with his daughter but he might not return to that carefree man that he once was because it is difficult to take down your defenses after being hurt but he can only try with his friends and daughter by his side.

-----

Gladio:

Gladio over the span of five years is able to deal with this the best. Gladio is fairly certain that his daughter inherited her callous attitude from him since that is how he occasionally acted when he was young hence meaning that he feels that he is for blame plus he was expecting some sort of rebellion at some point. Another thing that helps Gladio is that although he and his daughter are not on good terms their relationship wasn’t cut off as harsh as the other guys with their daughters though with the two being the people they are the other wouldn’t willingly apologize for what happened which caused communication to be cut off between the two soon after the fight. Although I said that Gladio acted well about what happened it doesn’t mean that he wasn’t upset. Like the others, if Gladio is left with his thoughts too long he is likely to start crying quietly to himself but he is a busy man that doesn’t really have the time to get stuck in his thoughts. Usually, he is training or doing his duties and eventually, training became one of his main coping methods which benefits him greatly but it is usually when he is in bed that he thinks about his little princess and will mourn his relationship with her. When Gladio is invited to the talk show he will willingly take it on as long as he has the ok from Noctis and the rest of the guys around to protect him. It is when Gladio is getting his hair done and the hairstylist is questioning how he had the least grey in his hair out of him and the guys that he watches his daughter enter the stage. Gladio is shocked and nowhere close to upset when she shows up as he believes this is the best chance for him to reconcile with her so he excuses himself and prepares to enter the stage when he hears the talk show host talk about his daughter’s accomplishments; Becoming a celeb, being made a dame by the monarchy in a neighboring country, getting herself a boyfriend that she genuinely loved, and learning about the huge mistake she made. Gladio feels the all too familiar painful ache of sadness in his chest that causes his eyes to water but there is something else, there is pride for his little princess too. Gladio walks out onto the stage, his daughter stands from her seat, and the two seem to have the same thought in mind as they meet halfway and hug. The two begin apologizing at the same time and soon after laughter ensues as soon as they realize they spoke at the same time and it seems as though nothing had changed between the two at all.

TLSS: Gladio’s daughter has been his beloved little princess and has been way before she even married Noctis’s son. It leads to great disappointment when his little princess acts the way she does but he does not disown her or anything, heck all he even does is take her duty as the future king’s shield and doesn’t even kick her out and it takes a couple of weeks of awkward silence for her to even decide to even leave by herself so it is the similar rough attitude that the two bear that made things worse for the two. Eventually when she does leave Gladio is distraught but copes with training and handling his job as Noctis’s shield or just crying discreetly when he begins worrying about her and wondering if he messed up or if he should’ve spoken to her before things became so messed up between them. Gladio is extremely happy to have his little princess back when they reunite and it is literally like nothing changed between the two.

~Mod Amic

[hypothetical-warped-spaceti-blog]

I Felt You In My Life Before I Ever Thought To

Post Season Two Finale: 

TAGS: Garcia Flynn/Lucy Preston - Mild, W/L and WyJess 

(very slightly voyeuristic Wyatt)

His heart slammed against his ribs as if it was trying to break straight through. Thump-thump-thumping in almost doubled beats, as he took long strides toward the loading dock the Lifeboat occupied. The alarms were blaring and he could feel the rush of energy at his back as the rest of the group caught up to him. Just barely getting there before it materializes ahead of them, that dark grey hunk of metal-

His heart falters.

“Is this another Lifeboat?” Flynn questioned through a haze, even though he already knew the answer.

Jiya replies as she takes a spot at his side, but her words were hollowed wisps he couldn't fully grasp over the adrenaline pumping in his veins.

He didn't need the hatch to open- Flynn knew with every fiber of his being that she was inside. The very person that set him on this path. The ghost of a woman that has haunted him since the night she waltz into the bar and sat beside him. If the journal wasn't concrete physical evidence of her existence,of her promises, he would have assumed it was some grief riddled intoxicated delusion.

He watches as future Wyatt climbs out. Not being able to stop himself from looking down to the present versions of them right in front of him, as a sinking feeling formed in the pit of his stomach. Flynn forces himself to move past it and turn his eyesight back to the Lifeboat.

It's when his eyes catch her's that the room begins to spin; Flynn expels a breath he didn't realize he withheld.

“Well, what are you waiting on?” The future version of Wyatt said.

“You guys wanna get Rufus back or what?” future Lucy finished for him, as if they rehearsed the most precise way to tilt their world onto a new axis.

Present Lucy blanches. Her mouth dropping open and closing quickly as she turns to regard him, mouthing is that her?

He only acknowledges her for a second, giving a very brief nod, before gazing back to the other Lucy; because yes, while she was the woman from the bar. This one looked like a version of Lara Croft- Sarah Connor- or some other female apocalyptic hero reference Rufus would have interjected had he been there to see it.

The Lucy who met him in Brazil definitely didn't look like that; she was well dressed, possibly too well dressed for the seedy atmosphere he surrounded himself in. He remembers how sorrowfully beautiful she was. How she looked like she had the weight of the entire world sitting upon her shoulders.

She had asked him to leave the bar with her, so he followed wordlessly. He was just so tired of living. Tired of pissing away his life and doing nothing to avenge his family. If she was Rittenhouse, if they had finally managed to locate him, if this was how he met his end- so be it.

Shockingly, instead of granting him the small mercy of certain death like he previously conceived; she forced life back into his deeply decaying body, washing away his dour thoughts.

What have they changed that caused this? Whatever the hell this even was. The team fighting in the zombie or nuclear apocalypse wasn't written in the journal.

He was as flabbergast and in the dark as the rest of the time team.

-x-

She's descending the machine; and everyone is too shocked to disrupt the stagnant silence, too stunned to put a voice to the question, what do you mean get Rufus back?

“Listen, we don't exactly have a world of time.” Future Wyatt states.

He's clearly agitated, over what Flynn couldn't begin to guess. There's a look of aversion that shadows over his roughened face as he bypasses the present version of himself, moving toward Jiya. “You need to get to work.” He fishes in his pocket, pulling out a flash drive that was a little worse for wear and covered in dust. Pinching it between his thumb and pointer finger, wiggling it in front of her. “Immediately.”

“Well, the future is obviously unkind to you.” Connor judged, shifting his pointer finger between present and future Wyatt; coming to Jiya's defense when the woman was too shellshocked to respond for herself. Too grief stricken to even understand what was transforming in front of her.

Flynn wondered if perhaps she thought herself trapped in one of her visions. Some alternate reality- to be honest it hardly felt real to him and he had experienced future Lucy before. Although, at the time she was just Lucy, and there wasn't two of them in the same room- the effect was the same. Lucy Preston in any timeline or situation sure knew how to alter someone's perception of realism.

“Do you mind dialing down your attitude from blackhole to, let's say, perhaps, a molecule?” Connor finished, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Wyatt...” Future Lucy warned.

The man rolled his eyes before squeezing through the gap between Flynn and Jiya, moving straight into the kitchen. She huffed, pinching her lips together as she shook her head at him. “I know you guys probably have a million questions. I imagine the biggest one being how this is all possible... the flash drive will help with the how.”

Lucy walked until she was standing directly in front of Flynn, focused only on him, yet continuing to address the rest of the room. “I can't provide the answers to everything. Time travel rules are in place for a reason.”

He was utterly enchanted in her, observing the mixture of raw emotions filtering through her features; struggling to pick any of them apart individually. Everyone else could have faded into oblivion, leaving only them to exist in each other. Flynn wished that they would scatter away, listen to whatever G.I. Joe Wyatt wanted; then maybe they wouldn't have to keep a safe distance or remain so guarded.

“Today was...” Her hand is moving on it's own volition, reaching forward absentmindedly. Seemingly forgetting herself or where they were and who was watching.

His breath hitches, shivers dancing up and down his spine at the prospect of her touch. Her palm hovered over his chest wound, merely a few millimeters away, so close that the heat of her skin could almost be felt. Before he could stop himself, before he could convince himself otherwise- he gently takes hold of her wrist and presses it where it wanted to go; to hell with everyone watching.

Flynn's thumb caressed the sensitive skin on the underside of her wrist, before placing his palm flat over hers. Lucy's eyes close as she shifts closer, her thumb very gently mimicking the same motion he did to her wrist over his bandage. It was enough to feel but subtle enough not to hurt.

She clears her throat, slowly her eyes reopen, “It's been a long day, not only for you, but for us as well. I think it's best if we all tried to get some sleep and,-”

“Was he alive in your timeline, wherever you came from? Is he alive right now?” Jiya pressed, forcing Lucy out of their private spell. Whatever she was planning on saying to finish her sentence died mid thought. She pulled away from him, taking several large steps out of his personal space. Looking sympathetic, a hint of a wet glimmer swells in her eyes before she blinked it away, pointedly ignoring Jiya's dejected questions.

Lucy popped open one of her pouches on her belt, extracting a dark journal that was all too familiar to him.

“Don't lose this one okay?” She said as she held it out to him.

“Excuse me? If I remember correctly, I handed that back to you, before somebody else had me arrested.” He teased.

“Yeah, well, that certainly wasn't my personal plan.” She laughed lightly, both of them simultaneously glancing over at Denise who furrowed her brow.

“As if I had a choice.” Denise scorned.

“It's mostly blank, but there are some things I wrote on loose paper, tucked in somewhere, for both you and Lucy.”

“We shouldn't be talking about any of this.” present Lucy declared urgently, sheer panic causing her voice to go up several octaves. Her hands were shaking as she took an unsure step toward them, “God, this shouldn't even be possible. You both shouldn't be here, who knows what butterfly effect this could have...” she rambled on.

“We didn't have a choice. This is how it has to be. It's already been done.” future Wyatt calls from inside the kitchen as he rummaged through the cabinets. “We'll fix this as quickly as possible and move on to the next thing.”

“I think Lucy is right.” Denise cautioned. “Both of them.” she added, pinching the bridge of her nose. “We should get some rest and stop talking about what the future is or was, if anything has changed. And since Wyatt is so eager for Jiya to get started. He can accompany her and Connor as they decode whatever is on that flash drive.”

“Do you think we can,” future Lucy nodded toward the corridors, reaching forward, brushing her hand down the bicep on his good arm. “I need to speak with you privately.”

“Of course.” He nodded, trying not to notice how his voice quivered or how feeble the two words were delivered.

-x-

Click here: AO3 LINK for the rest.

[zennyshoneybunch]

Mystically Destined - The Musical (Chapter 11 - A Little Too Not Over You)

He had barely slept all night.

The conversation with Rika still weighing on him.

The mug of strong coffee was doing nothing to clear his head from all the thoughts running through his mind.

He wanted to do the right thing. Keep his promise to Rika and save her from herself and those depressive thoughts she had sometimes. But Vanderwood’s words were playing on repeat in his heart. Along with Lizzy’s face.

And he was afraid.

He was afraid of not being able to keep his word. Afraid of being too weak and selfish to the point of ruining everyone’s lives. All over an old flame. Oh, who was he trying to deceive? Lizzy was not just an old girlfriend, she was the one. He was still as much in love with her as he used to be when they were young. His heart was hers and it would still be hers long after it stopped beating.

With a sigh he ruffled his mint hair. It didn’t matter how much he wanted Lizzy back, he didn’t deserve her. He left. He allowed himself to be persuaded by his father. He got himself engaged to someone else. He was the cause of her broken heart and also her injured knee. He was the one to blame for the destruction of her life. He was the one at fault. He was a faulty person. He didn’t deserve her.

A noise by the kitchen door distracted him from his thoughts. Jumin walked in, pushing his hair back. V recognized the look in his friend’s eyes. It was the same he saw reflected in the mirror a few minutes earlier. The look of a man who spent most of the night starring at the ceiling.

- Good morning V. I see you’re up early too. Rough night?

- I could ask you the same thing, my friend.

With a tired sigh Jumin poured himself some coffee, gulping down a big part of it before pulling a chair and setting in front of V.

- I’ve been having… complicated thoughts.

- About Amanda?

Jumin spat the sip of coffee he was taking back into the mug. V tried his best to keep an angelic smile on his face when his friend glared at him seemingly unamused.

 - About the charity, yes.

V chuckled as Jumin whipped traces of the dark liquid from his chin.

- I am sure everything will be fine, Jumin.

- I’m glad you’re so confident. What about you? What kept you up?

Jumin asked, noticing his shirt had coffee stains on it. Thinking about how he should answer that, V grabbed his mug only to realize it was already empty and pondered if he should have more or not.

- Are you not going to tell me what happened yesterday?

Jumin’s question stopped him from getting up from his seat. His friend’s arrival provided a distraction from the restless thoughts going through his mind, but now he could feel them all rushing back.

He ran a hand through his face, feeling even more tired than he was a moment before.

- I have to marry her, Jumin.

Taking another sip, the raven haired man glanced at him from above the rim.

- From the look on your face I gather you mean Rika.

- She basically threatened to end her own life if I left her.

- I see. And you think she would go through with it?

V played with his mug distractedly.

- I don’t know.

A heavy silence fell between them.

Jumin seemed to be deep in thought, probably weighing on V’s words. There was nothing to think over though. There was only one thing to do. And that was to marry Rika.

Jumin was the first to break the silence.

- The truth is I don’t think you should be the one responsible for Rika’s safety. If there is a risk of her harming herself, then she should seek professional help. I don’t think sacrificing yourself and your happiness to become some kind of hero to her is the answer and it may work as the exact opposite and ruin both your lives.

The mug almost fell from his hands so he set it quietly on the table.

That… actually made sense. Could his friend be right?

Maybe… maybe he didn’t have to take the responsibility of being her sun anymore. Maybe he should step aside and allow her to find the sun in herself and fight the dark thoughts, like… like Lizzy. Strong, beautiful, amazing Lizzy.

But… even if he could end his engagement she wouldn’t take him back, surely. She fought her depression, yes, and she was in speaking terms with him again, but… he still didn’t deserve her. He still couldn’t forgive himself for all the things he did, he couldn’t…

- ...Ask for her love back.

He didn’t notice he had spoken out loud until he felt Jumin’s hand on his forearm. His grey eyes looking straight at him.

- You will never know if you stay here sulking instead of fighting for it.

Trying to lighten up the mood and mask his own embarrassment, he smiled, even though the smile he had on his lips was a sad one. 

- Since when have you become an expert on matters of the heart, Jumin?

- I’ve been reading a book entitled “Destiny and Soulmates”. And since we are mentioning it, it seems that finding the love of your life ten years later in a completely strange city can be considered as a stroke of fate. According to it.

V blinked a few times not sure about how to react to the sudden change of subject. But Jumin’s serious face while saying such an out of character thing was enough to lightened the mood and make him crack an actual smile.

- Why are you reading that?

- I read about many subjects. Is that all you retained from what I’ve told you?

- No…

V avoided his eyes, feeling embarrassed again.

- Well, perhaps you should think about that, because, as strange as it may be, there seems to be a strong connection between the two of you. You spent 10 years apart. Common sense tells me any feelings you had shared so long ago and for such a short period of time should have dissipated, and yet here you are: hiding from your fiancé in my house, barely able to sleep and struggling. I wish I could understand.

V wished his friend never needed to understand all the pain, guilt and regret he felt and was still feeling. He wished his friend would never have to suffer the way he did and that the only love he ever experienced was the true and happy kind with someone he could be with without reservations.

Jumin leaned forward on the table, calling for his attention again.

- Can you tell me? What have you felt… what does it feel like to be away from the person you love?

He stopped for a moment, unsure if he had heard him correctly. The seriousness of his face and voice told him Jumin was truly curious, even though he was not sure about the reason for such curiosity.

He pretended he was thinking about it, but the truth was he knew the answer all too well since, as his friend pointed out, he had been feeling it for the last ten years.

Distractedly, he started to play with the mug again.

- I think… it is like there is no air. You cannot breathe properly and you are gasping, unsure of how you will survive, or even if you will survive, until she walks in the room and you see her face again. And the mere sight of her brings you life.

He watched as Jumin silently pondered about his words with a serious face. Then he straighten himself up and looked at him with a little smirk.

- No air, you say… just as I thought, love sounds like a horrible thing.

V chuckled and Jumin stood up, pulling his stained shirt from his pants, so he could go change it.

He was about to walk through the kitchen door, when V called him, making him stop and look back.

- Do you really think I should be selfish and fight for my own happiness?

Jumin thought for a moment before he cryptically answered.

- I think doing the right thing is not always the right thing to do.

Without another word he walked out of the kitchen, leaving V alone again with his thoughts. Only… this time he had a smile on his face. And for some reason that he was sure had nothing to do with the coffee, he was feeling less tired and more cheerful than he was before. 

She had barely slept all night.

The bags under her eyes could be well covered with Lucy’s nice and expensive makeup, but they were there as proof of her restless night.

Lying awake, tossing and turning, haunted by thoughts and images of Jihyun and Rika. Or waking up with cold sweats after dreaming of Jihyun in pain and bleeding while Rika’s low chuckles rang in her ears, whenever she managed to fall asleep.

Yes, it was not a well-rested night and the strong hot tea she drank did nothing to calm down or warm up her tired body. No one who saw her striding along the street would say she was tired though, judging by her fast steps, leading her to the pub. But those weren’t an indicator of energy, they were an indicator of nervousness due to the events of the night before.

Yes, she was scared. Scared of falling back into depression and her rage fits. But most of all she was scared of facing Jihyun again and realizing Rika was right all along. The last thing she wanted was to trouble or hurt him in any way.

She was scared of facing him, but there was a part of her that also wanted to see him, to make sure her nightmare was only, indeed, a nightmare. To make sure he was okay.

She looked at her wristwatch. It was early – way too early – to start her shift, but maybe Saeran would be there already and she would have some distraction or some calming piano music to guide her mind and body back to normal. Listening to Saeran playing the piano was always so soothing, like being enveloped in a warm blanket surrounded by flowers and candle lights. And she enjoyed watching his long fingers dash through the ivory keys. His beautiful mint green eyes so concentrated in what he was doing, as if the entire world faded when he played. She used to think like that too when she danced. Although, unlike Saeran, she always had a smile on her lips. Unlike Saeran she had no ghosts haunting her then.

When she arrived at the pub she found it quiet and locked. She had a key now so she used it to get inside.

- Vanderwood?

She called, but no answer came to find her. No one was there yet. Maybe it was for the best. There would be no soothing music, but at least she had some time to breathe and calm herself before seeing anyone. Saeran was sharp, he would definitely notice something wasn’t right if he saw her right now.

Taking a deep breath she walked to the back of the pub to set her things in the back room. Everything was crystal clean and tidy back there. Did Amanda clean it? Or was it Vanderwood? He seemed to have a little bit of an OCD when it came to have everything neat and organized. More than once she saw him rearrange the position of the tables after she had cleaned them. It was probably why he was so against all the flowers hanging on the ceiling. It probably looked like a big mess to him.

Lizzy smiled to herself. He gave this air of being a badass, could-kill-you-only-with-my-pinky kind of guy, but he was actually this… housewife-cleaning-fairy. That was kind of cute.

Walking out of the back room, Lizzy headed for the bar to look for an apron. Since she was there early she could do some deep cleaning around the place. Maybe later she would take down all the decorations and give the place a more neat appear-

- Oh, hey!

The male voice sounding right behind her made her jump in surprise, turning briskly around to meet two smiling ruby eyes.

- Z-Zen!!!! Oh my God! You scared me half to death.

- Oh, I’m sorry Lizzy. I didn’t mean to surprise you like that. I thought no one was here yet. Are you okay?

She smiled nervously.

- Yeah. I’m okay. Why are you here so early?

- We have this important Charity Event coming this weekend so we’ll start rehearsing earlier until then. Besides I forgot my wallet yesterday so I came to get it and grab some late breakfast. But… isn’t it too early for you to start your shift?

- Yes, I… was actually nearby and I thought maybe Saeran was already here practicing on the piano, so I just walked over.

The smile disappeared from Zen’s face giving way to a cute pout.

- You mean, you came to look for Saeran and not me, the handsomest member of the band?!? I’m hurt!

Lizzy tried to laugh at the joke, but it didn’t sound cheerful at all. Zen took a few steps closer to her, placing a friendly warm hand on her shoulder with a worried expression on his gorgeous features.

- You look tired, Lizzy.

- Oh? I thought I had applied my makeup the correct way…

- It’s not that, I just have a way of reading people. Are you sure you’re feeling alright? Did I scare you that much?

- No! Not at all, I just couldn’t sleep very well last night.

- Was there… something on your mind?

She pondered on the possibility of telling Zen everything. He was always so nice and sweet. She could tell him about Rika’s visit and ask for his opinion as a friend. Ask what he thought of her, what he thought about her relationship with Jihyun, what he thought about Jihyun’s feelings… no. She obviously couldn’t ask him any of it, it would sound way too strange and creepy for sure, like she was thinking about trying something to break them apart or something like that. But… she was so worried, her nightmare invading her thoughts again, and before she knew what she was doing, her tongue did the job her brain was telling her not to.

- What do you think about Rika?

- V’s Rika? Oh, I mean… hum…

He looked embarrassed. Maybe she really shouldn’t have asked.

- Yes, V’s Rika. Is she… a good person, you think?

- Well…

He thought about it for a moment before he met her eyes again.

- I don’t really know her that well, but she always seemed nice to me. I never heard her say a cross word to anyone, so… I suppose she is a good person?

The girl that visited her the night before didn’t look so nice though. But Lizzy couldn’t tell him that now, could she? She couldn’t poison him against Rika. That was Jihyun’s soon-to-be wife.

- That’s good then.

- Are you worried about V?

- Yes, well, as a friend I want him to be happy you know?

She answered fidgeting with the apron’s strings, making sure not to meet his eyes.

- Of course. Is that why you couldn’t sleep last night?

Well he was sharp too wasn’t he?

- No, of course not. That was just insomnia kicking in.

He didn’t seem very convinced about it, worry still written all over his face.

- You know, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but… I’m here for you if you do. No matter what or whom it is about.

Lizzy gave him a small smile and a nod. She could never tell him, but he didn’t have to know that. And he looked happy with her answer, smirking with glee.

- Now… you already know what you need when you’re feeling down, right?

- You mean…

- I sure do!

Zen ~ “Let’s Marvin Gaye and get it on.”

A giggle formed in Lizzy’s throat and she couldn’t avoid letting it out.

Zen ~ “You got the healing that I want.”

He moved away from her pushing two tables together and extended his hand to her.

Zen ~ “Just like they say it in the song, until the dawn, let’s Marvin Gaye and get it on”.

She took his hand and he pulled her to him, pointing at the tables and winking at her.

Zen ~ “We got this king size to ourselves. Don't have to share with no one else.”

He lifted her up by the waist and placed her sitting on the table, leaning in dangerously close in a seductive manner.

Zen ~ “Don't keep your secrets to yourself, it's karma sutra show and tell”.

With a laugh she pushed him away and he started slowly circling the tables like a panther circling his prey, looking her in the eyes.

Zen ~ “Woah, there's loving in your eyes that pulls me closer”.

She watched him as he moved, spinning her body on the table to keep looking him in the eyes and sliding her legs all the way to the other side when he approached her again.

Zen ~ “It's so subtle, I'm in trouble, but I'd love to be in trouble with you”.

He held one of her hands, sweetly moving a strand of hair away from her face with his free one.

Zen & Lizzy ~ “Let’s Marvin Gaye and get it on”.

Vanderwood was going in but turned immediately around and went right out again, shaking his head and mumbling something about weird people singing and dancing all the damn time.

Zen ~ “You got the healing that I want. Just like they say it in the song, until the dawn.”

Zen & Lizzy ~ “Let’s Marvin Gaye and get it on.”

He helped her down from the table.

Zen & Lizzy ~ “You got to give it up to me. I'm screaming mercy, mercy please.”

She turned her back to him and slowly walked around the joined tables.

Zen & Lizzy ~ “Just like they say it in the song, until the dawn, let’s Marvin Gaye and get it on.”

She turned to look at him with flirty eyes, still moving away slowly.

Lizzy ~ “And when you leave me all alone. I'm like a stray without a home. I'm like a dog without a bone, I just want you for my own.“

She called him with a movement of her finger and winked at him.

Lizzy ~ “I got to have you babe.”

Zen pretended to faint and fall to the ground, immediately getting himself on his knees and slowly crawling to her with feline movements.

Lizzy & Zen ~ “Woah, there's loving in your eyes that pulls me closer.”

He slowly and sensually straightened himself up in front of her, caressing every inch of her with his eyes.

Lizzy & Zen ~ “It's so subtle, I'm in trouble, but I'd rather be in trouble with you.”

He pulled her to him with one arm. Connected only by their eyes and a hand on each other’s waist they slowly moved as if away from each other, dancing in a small circle, their other arms falling straight at their sides.

Zen ~ “Let’s Marvin Gaye and get it on. Ooh baby, I got that healing that you want, yeah.”

Lizzy ~ “Just like they say it in the song, until the dawn, let’s Marvin Gaye and get it on.”

With a smile he grabbed her waist again with both hands and lifted her to stand on the tables, immediately jumping on it himself with the help of a chair.

Lizzy & Zen ~ “Let’s Marvin Gaye and get it on. You got the healing that I want.”

He grasped her hand again and they started to dance using some sort of dangerous side-to-the-side slower Jive steps, laughing and making silly faces all the while.

Lizzy & Zen ~ “Just like they say it in the song, until the dawn, let’s Marvin Gaye and get it on, babe. You got to give it up to me. I'm screaming mercy, mercy please. Just like they say it in the song, until the dawn, let’s Marvin Gaye and get it on.”

He let go of her and jumped down to the floor so he could help her down gently into his arms. And then he dipped her, both laughing happily.

Lizzy & Zen ~ “Just like they say it in the song, until the dawn, let’s Marvin Gaye and get it on. Ooh.”

They were both panting and smiling. Zen pointed at her lips.

- And this is The Marvin Gaye Effect.

Light-hearted laughter was all that could be heard inside the pub, and Lizzy couldn’t be more thankful for it.

Jihyun was by the window feeling like a creep for watching Lizzy and Zen dancing and having fun together, but unable to look away from the couple.

He was right all along. Lizzy did not love him anymore. She was falling for Hyun. And why shouldn't she? He was attractive and a good guy... surely more worthy of her feelings. He would treat her right and make her happy. Like Jihyun never did.

He knew all that and he knew he had no right to feel jealous, but he could not help it. It felt like someone was ripping through his chest, crushing his heart. His mind was telling him that was for the best, while his heart was bleeding deeply.

He closed his eyes, tearing them away from their happy faces, and stumbled off to the street.

~ “Oh… It never crossed my mind at all, it's what I tell myself. What we had has come and gone, you're better off with someone else.”

He turned away from the pub, trying to avoid the couple, only to find the street filled with couples, all well dressed in smokings and long flowy chiffon dresses.

~ “It's for the best, I know it is, but I see you sometimes I try to hide what I feel inside.”

He tried to step away from them, but they were all around him.

~ “And I turn around, you're with him now, I just can't figure it out.”

All the boys lifted their dates in the air. Then setting them down, they whirled around together before lifting them again and resume whirling around. Jihyun found himself surrounded by pretty colored dresses, flowing up and down all around him.

~ “Tell me why you're so hard to forget, don't remind me, I'm not over it. Tell me why I can't seem to face the truth. I'm just a little too not over you.”

Glancing at the pub, he could almost make out Lizzy’s shape through the windows.

~ “Not over you. Ooooh.”

A girl with strawberry blond hair in a simple summer green chiffon dress walked right in front of him, getting his attention. He followed her, hoping against hope that she could be Lizzy.

~ “Memories, supposed to fade. What's wrong with my heart? Shake it off, let it go. Didn't think it'd be this hard.”

He snatched her arm and she turn around, surprised. But she was a complete stranger. He backed away, his hands up in an apologetic sign, and turned around.

~ “Should be strong, moving on, but I see you sometimes I try to hide what I feel inside. And I turn around, you're with him now, I just can't figure it out.”

He approached the pub’s window again, placing his hand against it, trying hard not to watch how Lizzy was smiling at Zen.

~ “Tell me why you're so hard to forget, don't remind me, I'm not over it.”

Turning around from them, he leaned his head against the window with his eyes closed, his brows furrowed with the pain.

~ “Tell me why I can't seem to face the truth. I'm just a little too not over you.”

He walked away from the window. All the well-dressed couples were still dancing, lifting and twirling and exchanging dance partners and he walked to them, distractedly dancing, lifting and twirling, any girl in pretty colored dress that came in his way.

~ “Tell me why you're so hard to forget, don't remind me, I'm not over it. Tell me why I can't seem to face the truth. I'm just a little too not… Tell me why you're so hard to forget, don't remind me, I'm not over it. Tell me why I can't seem to face the truth.”

Placing the last girl back on the ground, he shoved his hands down his pockets and moved away from the couples, towards the pub’s door.

~ “And I really don't know what to do. I'm just a little too not over you.”

He slowly reached for the doorknob. His chest hurt but it was time to face the truth.

~ “Not over you, oohhh.”

He grabbed the doorknob pausing for a breath before turning it. He shouldn’t give Zen dirty looks. He shouldn’t try to pursue Lizzy. He should be happy for them. He would be happy for them. He should… be happy for them.

With a swift movement of his wrist he opened the door and stepped inside.

 *** Chapter Songs ***

Marvin Gaye by Charlie Puth ft. Meghan Trainor

A Little Too Not Over You by David Archuleta

[neen-writes]

Iron Legends: Reforged -- Chapter 16

Series: Fairy Tail

Characters: Gajeel, Levy, plus appearances from Natsu and Lucy.

Genre: Hurt/comfort, Sci-fi

Summary: The old lab had always been fuel for a good story, something you would half-heartedly joke about going to sometime.  Some did, and when they came back they never talked about it again.  The legends circulated, telling of ghosts, monsters, and anything else someone would be likely to conjure up about an abandoned building.  But even with all the stories meant to keep everyone away, there are still those for whom the intrigue is too tempting.  

Read the Reforged chapters on FFnet here, Ao3 here, and read the entire original story here!!  AND find this fic’s soundtrack here!

Note: I did a lotttt of work completely rewriting this one and trying ti up the emotional tangibility.  I hope it shows.  Huuuuuge thanks to @spikerr for her suggestions with this chapter, and @bluuesparrow for beta reading (even if she burned her dinner xD). These chapters have been the MOST fun to work with and I honestly can’t wait to work on the next one when all the shit finally hits the fan.  Enjoy!

Ch. 1  Ch. 2  Ch. 3  Ch. 4 Ch. 5 Ch. 6 Ch. 7 Ch. 8 Ch. 9 Ch.10 Ch. 11 Ch. 12 Ch. 13 Ch. 14 Ch. 15

Every blow sings pain through him.  They light up every nerve and somehow he only feels half of it.  A deep pain aches within him but on the surface his sensations are dulled, like a limb that’s fallen asleep.  At times he feels like he is watching the abuse from the outside, an agonized spectator to what he absolutely deserves.  Gajeel watches the other subjects tear him apart piece by piece, and more than that he sees everything he thought he could have been… they could have been, torn apart.  Every piece of him that’s ripped away, he hears the same two words boom through his thoughts: she’s dead.

Levy is dead.

No, that wasn’t quite right.  She wasn’t dead.  She was murdered.  Levy died screaming and it was his fault.

Of course it was his fault.  Had he stayed away from her, she would have never been drawn into this.  None of this was a surprise, he always knew in some part of him that it would all come back to this.  He should have known that Jose would return for him, that was inevitable from a man… no, a demon as voracious as he was.  In any amount of time, at any time, Jose was bound to return.  

But still, Gajeel couldn’t resist himself around her.  He knew to keep his distance, but he had been so selfish that he convinced himself to go against his instincts.  His desire for her presence and his craving for the peace she brought him clouded every logical thought he had and she paid the price for it.  

His thoughts slowly turned to what-if’s.  What if he hadn’t left her that night?  What if he hadn’t let his fear and anger get the best of him?  What if he had given her the benefit of the doubt?  He imagined being there when Jose came for her.  How easy it would have been to end everything there, kill him at the door.  Absolutely destroy him for even trying to use her against him.

But he wasn’t there.  He didn’t end it.  He didn’t save her.  

He lost everything.

Every waking moment reminds Gajeel of it.  Every time he sees Jose’s face, he is reminded of it.  It was the sole reason every time he was restrained and brought out for treatments that he welcomed them with empty compliance.  Like fire the lacrima pulsed power through him, and each time he was forced into a change, he could feel more of himself being chipped away.

His thoughts became fuzzy after each treatment, and after both Rogue and Sting thoroughly defeated him, he could feel himself slipping away more.  Gajeel was losing his hold on himself, and it was only a matter of time until they achieved the feral, mindless soldier they wanted, or until the treatments and injuries killed him.  He welcomed either option.

Gajeel convinced himself, decided, that was what he deserved: to lose himself.  In any capacity.  This way, the memories of her screams that haunt him day and night become more muffled, and were a dull echo by the time he was thrown into the ring with Cobra.

At this point it felt the same as the other matches.  The pain was still dulled, but this time there was a voice.  Rogue and Sting didn’t speak.  This one does.  Gajeel couldn’t make out any of his words, and it was a muffled hum until he felt something yank in his chest.  It was such an unfamiliar sensation that for a moment he felt awake, and for a split second, the words were clear, and something snapped.  

Not her, you bastard!  Gajeel felt everything, and above all, he felt absolute rage.  He felt fire and bloodlust and a taste of the animal he’d come so close to so many times before.  It had taken so much in the past to bring him there and this time… all it took was her.  The mere mention of her.  And Cobra had the misfortune of being the soul in front of him when the switch happened.  Now nothing else mattered but killing his opponent.  It was his only directive, his only instinct, and nothing but the downfall of his counterpart would stop him.  

It felt like both forever and no time at all before he could feel the pulse of Cobra’s jugular beneath his iron palm, struggling to beat.  And then, he lost his grip.  The victory slipped from his hands for a split second and before his rage could surge again, the words that had been an echo, a whisper at the back of his thoughts, rang through as clear as day.

“She’s here, you idiot.”

Then, everything stops.  He is a hurricane tamed, an unstoppable force meeting its immovable object.  The fire in his veins dies out, the air leaves his lungs, the roar in his ears goes silent.  

Levy.

As much as he worked to forget her, silence her memory, there she is.  There is her blue hair and her warm eyes and her kind smile.  She isn’t screaming, she isn’t dying; she’s holding her hand out to him and calling him back from the darkness.  The memory of her calling his name is the cruelest fabrication of his thoughts, but still he can hear it so clearly.

She is here.  She is alive?

Which, more than anything, meant she was in danger.  That, for him, was redemption reincarnate.  Soon enough, she was a rushing river flowing life back into his broken hull, making him whole again.  It smashed the conditioned walls that had nearly completed sealing up who he was.  The current swept up the shreds left of him and wove them back together in an embrace he thought he could only dream of.

He had no way of knowing if Erik was lying to him.  That didn’t matter nearly as much as the prospect that she could truly be here.  Gajeel wouldn’t dare take that chance of ignoring the snake.

In that same token, he knew Erik isn’t lying, Gajeel could feel it.  He lifted his eyes to look to the grey glass panel that was a barrier between him and the spectators behind it.

She is alive.

Something in him stirred and he felt a burst of adrenaline.  Like drums, his blood beat in his ears and Gajeel could feel himself returning with each thrum.

Levy is alive.

All at once, he knew exactly what he needed to do.  Erik’s plea reached him loud and clear just before he felt the sting of the tranquilizers.  Before darkness engulfed his sight, he resolved himself to his final task, and the trigger he knew he needed for it.  I’m coming for you, shorty.

By the ninth day she was fully exhausted.  Levy no longer felt like she was being given a tour of the exhibitions there.   Instead the woman resolved herself quietly to the imprisonment that consisted entirely of her usefulness to the researcher.  The little backup plan on standby, the trump card to be revealed at a moment’s notice to cripple her dragon once more.  That was what she had been brought down to until she could think of something to get out of this.  Cooperating, for now, was her best option.  And her list of options was already short.

Still, Levy couldn’t tear her thoughts from the look he had given her at the end of Cobra’s match.  But, really, how could she have even been sure he was looking at her?  She spent all night thinking about that look, seeing those red eyes with more life in them than there had been during his whole time there.  By morning, Levy hadn’t made up her mind what it meant, but chose to use it to fuel her hope.  She needed something to cling to.

But even with that, there was little Levy could do, still not knowing even the general direction of an exit, or even having the ability to make a run for one if she did.  The blunette wasn’t near healed yet and Jose had her under lock and key.

Jose remaining oblivious to “the look” was a blessing, however the air as she stood in the observation room again was still tense.  In some ways, the scientist had gotten exactly what he was working for yesterday, but in the end still lost control of the situation.  At this point, she felt if it went wrong again, she would be introduced to the new aspects of her role here.

Which lead Levy to think: what would happen if Jose revealed her to Gajeel again?  Would Gajeel even recognize her at this point?  It had been seven days now at their mercy, beaten again and again in the arena and subject to who even knew what kind of experiments in the background.  He looked so dead inside, and as much as it broke her, she couldn’t be sure that her dragon was still there.

Jose said nothing to her, a heavy scowl sitting on his features.  His demeanor, the one of pride and manipulation, seemed to have fallen away.  The game had become a lot less fun for him now that things were not going his way, and it showed.  Levy swallowed hard, shifting uncomfortably under the weight of the atmosphere.

Slowly, she moved her attention to the arena, waiting again for the competitors to appear.  Levy tensed, and a dull ache resulted from her barely-healed shoulder.  With a loud hiss the doors opened up on either side, and she waited for the men to enter.

Rogue appeared first, and Levy felt her stomach twist a little. She couldn’t help but wonder about the purpose in putting Rogue against Gajeel again.  Perhaps because Gajeel had started to comply in some way, Jose felt putting him against someone with the desired conditioning level would even him out.  It might have been a conditioning process in of itself. From the beginning, in everything she had read, these two were the ones that fit together for the trials.  Rogue was the success, and Jose wanted desperately for Gajeel to become that.

The iron dragon finally stepped out of the dark, with far more composure to his stance than any of the days before.  He walked with purpose, his back straight and his arms visibly tense against his metal restraints.  He was alert, focused, and more importantly, present.

Levy glanced to Jose, who also appeared to notice the change in Gajeel’s stature.  The newfound vigor was obvious, and from what she had read in his journals, Jose was more than familiar with it.  And rightfully wary of it.  Its resurgence was likely a source of either great uneasiness, or great frustration for the researcher.  But it was still far too early to recognize if it was a sign of disobedience, or if it heralded the transition into the specimen he was looking for.

The doors closed noisily behind the men, and Gajeel shifted slowly on his feet as the cuffs released from his wrists.  With a shrug of his shoulders and a barely audible growl, the iron scales manifested across his beaten flesh.  The iron covered the bruises and scabs, and armored him readily for the fight ahead.  His breaths were deep and even, focused, and his eyes never left Rogue.  It was a heavy gaze that perturbed even the heavily conditioned male across from him. Something had changed; something he could not pinpoint.  And being trapped in that room with him was more unsettling than it had been before.

The wait for the starting buzz was nearly suffocating.  She couldn’t stop looking from Jose to Gajeel, feeling the anticipation of something growing in the silent space.  Levy couldn’t shake it, and the anxiety was enough to make her sick.

The sound finally cut the air, and as much as she expected both of them to rush at the same time, it was only Rogue that advanced.  It might have been preemptive measures to strike down whatever it was that he saw in front of him now, before Gajeel could reveal what it was that had already set the shadow-user on edge.  His darkness stormed around him violently, and Gajeel merely opened himself up to the oncoming attack.  With a heavy boom, Rogue shouldered Gajeel into the wall behind him, and a pained cough erupted from him.

With an outward swipe of his fist, he pushed Rogue back, but didn’t move nearly fast enough to land any sort of significant hit.  All it did was establish space again, and Gajeel merely side-stepped in a way that his back now faced the left, a good amount of open space behind him.  And then he opened his guard again, beckoning Rogue to him with a cock of his head.  If Rogue didn’t know better, he might have thought he saw a smirk on his face, the flash of something wild and hungry in his eyes.

“What the hell is he doing?” Jose growled under his breath.  This wasn’t the broken creature that had first stepped in here, but it also wasn’t the fighting machine he had witnessed against Rogue.  It was an indescribable grey area that he had no use for.

“Come on,” Gajeel growled under his breath, and Rogue stared at him for a moment, before charging again.  Once close enough, he cut a shadow-engulfed fist up at Gajeel’s chin, launching the iron dragon up to hit the ceiling with another booming impact.  There was a roar of pain, and gravity had only barely started to bring him back down before Rogue was midair to meet him, twisted from a kick that sent Gajeel back down to the ground faster than the onlookers could see.  He hit on his side with such force that he bounced and hit the wall for a second impact.

As Rogue dropped back down to the ground, he wasted no time with his shadow tendrils, reaching out to wrap around Gajeel’s ankles and throw the man over into another wall.  The pain shot through him like before, and he could feel his chest tighten as the survival instincts began to rise in him.  His focus shifted to the pain that set his senses ablaze, and could see the edges of his vision begin to blur.  He was more aware of the pain now, his senses heightened since his last battle.  He felt everything in full, and his instincts had something to take hold on again.  Gajeel clenched his teeth, a growl building within him as he pulled himself up to his feet again.  You’re losing,  he thought to himself over and over.  He tried to fixate on losing, and what would happen if he did.  What would happen to her if he did.  He felt that fire briefly with Cobra, and he needed to again: now.

If I lose, she doesn’t make it.  If I lose, I fail her again.  I can’t lose her again.  I won’t be a tool.  I won’t let him beat me.  I need to survive, survive, survive...

The feral rage was welling up within him and as the adrenaline began to course he knew exactly where he was headed.  His breaths quickened, his heart raced, and he felt the burning in his skull.  Gajeel felt his grip on himself slipping as he hissed through his teeth.   Rogue positioned to attack again, unaware of the slow shift, and with this final piece in place, Gajeel suddenly whirled to the reflective window, and bellowed his last resort.

“SAY SOMETHING!”

Levy reacted instinctively, reflexively, without a second thought or single regard for the pain that the jolt of motion brought within her.  She moved so quickly that Jose didn’t even have a chance to react, and urgently pressed the same button she had seen Jose use multiple times before.  The one she had memorized with half-baked plans for escape.

“GAJEEL!” her voice cried out, piercingly, over the intercom and echoed throughout the arena.  Immediately following, agony erupted from her shoulder as Jose yanked her back by her injury, his slender fingers digging excruciatingly into her flesh.

“You stupid gi—!“ Jose couldn’t even finish his statement, a sudden roar filling room.  He looked urgently to the arena below just in time to see Gajeel overcome Rogue.  It was a blur, but when he stopped, he had Rogue pinned on his back to the floor by his neck.  The iron dragon loomed over him, face like a hungry animal.  

The second he heard her voice, before she even finished the first syllable of his name, his world burst back into life.  Everything of his being became about her, and only one thing was on his mind: she’s here, she’s here, she’s here…

Gajeel’s eyes glossed over, glowing, and he arched his back to puff out his chest, tightening his hold on the shadow-user.  The iron dragon inhaled sharply, and much to Rogue’s surprise, and Jose’s horror, the shadows were drawn into Gajeel’s maw.  A tangible aura began to manifest around him, rolling off his darkening hide in waves, and Rogue went pale with the realization of what he was trying to do.  He’d seen him do this once before, nearly killing everyone in the process.

“You can’t!” Rogue gasped in a moment of reason, memories flooding his thoughts of the day six years ago when this had happened before.  Gajeel had no idea of what he had done then.  It was an instinctive switch to stay alive, and it almost leveled the old facility.  His surge of power had lasted only about five minutes, but it was enough time for him to set into motion the events that led them to this facility before he fled with what was left of his strength.  Rogue felt a chill spread through him, remembering what Gajeel had looked like that day, and what he started to look like now.  

In a sharp jerk backwards, Gajeel stumbled back off of Rogue towards the center of the room, a dark sheen over his iron scales as the shadows now swirled around him as well.  He swayed steadily from side to side, a wide grin curled on his features that bared his fangs.  His black mane moved with a phantom wind, rising around him in menace.  A chuckle started to shake his chest and the dark vortex around him picked up speed, adding wild life to his black locks.

His head rolled back on his shoulder, focusing his darkened, tilted gaze on the observation window.  The laughter jumped to a fever pitch and he lifted a single, dark finger to point in the direction of the unseen watchers.  “Jose~!”  Gajeel bellowed threateningly, just before noticing the compartments begin to open up along the walls of the arena.

Jose jolted into motion then, previously frozen in terrified awe.  On his face he had what looked like a realization, like he had just connected two details in a distant memory.  He pulled the girl to him, backing away from the window.  Is this…?

Gajeel knew he had no time to waste now that he had set this in motion.  He didn’t know how long he could hold this power, but all he knew was he felt the insane surge now.  And he would use it.

He inhaled deeply, the shadows becoming violent, as his chest and cheeks puffed.  Both fists clenched at his sides and he arched back, turning his attention directly up to one of the several ventilation shafts above them.  A rumble, and then a high-pitched screech filled the air, as a blast of black and gold launched upward from Gajeel, striking the vent directly.  A series of rapid crashes and booms immediately followed with a flash of flame, before all the lights cut out.

Levy barely had the time to see the blast as she was pulled, kicking and screaming, from the room, pain searing through her.  “Stop your squirming and get moving!” Jose barked, voice shaking with panic.  They emerged into halls that were lit only with the red pulses of the fire alarms, but Jose moved knowing exactly where to go.  Of course he did.  Every door previously sealed shut now sat wide open, and she could barely distinguish Jose’s muttering about generators failing.  Something about damage elsewhere and a loss of backup power.

Both nearly lost their footing when another explosion rocked the facility, and a heat pressed at their backs as roofing and debris fell from above and littered the walkways.  A roar followed closely behind the destruction, one that did not sound like Gajeel.  Jose froze for a second, a choked, guttural sound escaping him over the chaos.  Levy couldn’t tell for sure, but he looked paler than usual.  The pause only lasted a moment before he jumped their pace, and she tried not to fully scream in pain, feeling the warmth of her reopened wound spread down her arm.

Jose turned a sharp corner, stopping in front of an elevator without thinking.  “Damnit!” he hissed at the lifeless machine, tightening his grip on her to keep moving.  Another boom came, this time from far under their feet, and Levy had an idea of the location, confirmed by the sharp curse from Jose.  “That insolent--!” he shouted, barely able to finish a thought, “I will not have this happen again, I will not lose everything again!!” he bellowed, looking back to Levy quickly as they navigated the halls.  “You!  You are going to stop him!” he shouted, jabbing his finger at her.

That was the final straw to break her out of her agonized stupor.  With a sharp rush of determination, Levy yanked suddenly enough from Jose to slip from his grasp.  “The hell I am!” she stumbled backwards, eyes darting around her frantically for anything that could help her.  A third explosion from below dropped more debris, and Jose followed her gaze to a dislodged piece of piping.  Both lurched for the item, Levy doing her best to push past the pain and reach it first.  Her good hand scrambled for the pipe, and she clumsily swept it upwards at the man as she fell onto her good side.  The blow glanced off the side of his face, enough for him to lose his balance with a curse of pain.

Levy kicked away from him and scrambled to her feet, pipe in hand, and made a run for it, trying to get as far as she could before he was able to regain his bearings.  The woman only knew how to get down to holding, and up to the infirmary, but none of this knowledge served her when there was no power for the elevators.   The best she could do was run until she found stairs, or any other helpful landmark.  But with the alarms blaring in her ears, light limited, and the building beginning to crumble around them, this was not something she had the luxury of taking time to figure out.  Gajeel, where are you?!

She looked to her shoulder, seeing her shirt darkened to a color other than what she woke up with. Not good, she thought, staggering slightly on her feet.  She thanked the heavens for her panic, and primarily, her adrenaline.  It was likely the only reason she could move at all at this point.  

Levy whipped around another corner, seeing another long open hall, identical to the last.  She could have been going in circles for all she knew, a thought that brought a sense of dread with regards to the man she was trying to gain distance from.  She had to bite back the defeated whimper that threatened to rise, and the burning in her eyes that could have been tears or smoke.  She wasn’t sure.

The red alarm light dimmed, putting her into the momentary darkness.  Either it was her panic or her heightened sense of awareness, but Levy could swear the darkness between the pulses lasted longer than before.  For a moment, she thought maybe the power to the alarms might have died as well, but the blaring continued. She took a tentative step forward, the pounding of her blood in her ears urging her to move even if she couldn’t see.

Her breath hitched, a sharp pain spreading from her shoulder, stopping her again, because it was followed by a chill slithering up her spine.  Suddenly, there was a heaviness in the air, and the hairs on her neck stood up, alerting her to another presence.  Levy could feel the color drain from her face, either from her bleeding wound or the terror that roared through her.  When the red light finally illuminated the path in front of her again, she found her instincts to be right on point.

Her lungs deflated in a defeated, desperate huff, grip tightening on her very useless weapon in comparison to who blocked her path.  The whimper she had kept at bay earlier finally escaped as she stared into those dark eyes.

“Rogue…”

“Sir!”  The panicked, sudden cry from Laharl brought Igneel’s attention up from the vehicle he was about to enter.  Immediately after the shout, what sounded like the rumble of thunder followed.

Urgently, the chief looked to his lieutenant, then followed the direction of his point.  A massive stack of black, acrid smoke rose from somewhere farther within Hargeon, where they had only arrived and begun to canvas not an hour ago.  In one sense, it was a gift, as their search thus far had yielded no answers to the location of the new facility.  In fact the locals were more likely to walk in the other direction, feigning frightened ignorance, than give them a moment of time for questioning.  The smokestack was assuredly the marker for their destination.

On the other hand, their situation had just become far more dire.   “Move it!  I want all our available units and the Hargeon department converged on that spot, now!  That’s our place, Laharl!” Igneel bellowed, entering his cruiser and slamming the door shut behind him.  God damnit, I can’t have this fail after coming this far, I can’t fail them!

[nomorelonelydays]

Sidgeno Mermaid AU anon fic

<< [Chapter 2/?] >>

It’s not until the morning when he’s looking over the pictures again when he notices the same figure in the water that he saw the night before.

The diner in town opens at five.

Geno gets there at 5:30 and rolls his eyes at how chipper the waiter sounds when he tells him to “take a seat wherever you like, I'll be right with ya.”

His name tag says Jake and he doesn't bat an eye at his sullen look when he pour his coffee and puts down the menu.

He’s young, fresh out of high school, maybe, and he doesn’t look like he knows who Geno is at all.

Geno’s already made up his mind to tip him very well.

“You're the one that moved into that shack down by the beach, aren't you?”

He coughs as the coffee goes down the wrong way. It burns his tongue.

“How you know?”

“This is a tiny, little island. Everyone knows everything. Is it haunted?”

“I’m Geno and it’s not haunted,” he grumbles. “Not a shack.”

“The walls are falling in on themselves and it looks haunted.”

“Walls are fine. Everything else,” he waves his hand back and forth. “No ghosts.”

He hums like he doesn't believe him. “So what are you going to do with it?”

“Going to live in it.”

“Forever? Like that?”

“No, no, I fix. Not walls because I don't need to but I fix the rest.”

“Who are you going to have helping you? You’re going to hire someone, right?”

“I do myself.”

“You do yourself,” he repeats slowly. “That's a lot of work.”

“Figure out. Look up online.”

He laughs and Geno decides to cut his tip my 10%. “You're going to learn how to fix a house by using the internet?”

“Why not? Everything on internet?”

“Maybe but we never get to see it. It's super slow around here. Even at the school and way out where you are….you're not going to get anything to load.”

“So what should I do?”

“Hire someone to do it for you. They'll probably get you a good deal since you're new to town and everything.”

“No. Want to do myself.”

“It's a pretty big project for just one guy. Especially one that doesn't know what he's doing.”

“You’re pretty chatty for a waiter who should just be bringing me pancakes. And bacon.”

He rolls his eyes and takes the menu that he's holding out. “I'm just trying to help.”

Geno shakes his head and looks out the front window.

The town is starting to wake up.

A man flips the closed sign to open on the bakery across the street and a grey haired unlocks the door to the florist. A man wearing tall yellow boots nods to a woman pushing a baby stroller on the sidewalk.

“Look, if you want my advice-.”

“Don't.”

“If you want my advice,” he repeats, attitude so clear in his voice that Geno has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop the smile, “you should probably go to the library. The internet there is okay and there are tons of reference books, Sidney is like, a fiend for books.”

“Who Sidney?”

He slides into the booth across from him. “He's the librarian but he's kind of….” he pauses and leans forward, voice dropping to a whisper. “He's kind of weird.”

Geno finds himself whispering back, “why?”

Jake leans back against the booth and shrugs. Voice returning to normal when he says “he just is. Everyone in this town knows everything about everyone else but no one knows anything about him. We're all real open and friendly, talk your ear off type people.”

“Everyone in town talk as much as you? I go to my house and never come out.”

Jake kicks him. “He's real quiet and standoffish. No family, no friends. Just him and that library and all those books. And his boat. He's real weird about his boat.”

“Maybe just private.”

“No, it's more than that. You'd have to meet him to know.”

“What time library open?”

“Ten.”

“I meet him then. Find out if weird or not for myself.”

“Oh you'll find out pretty quick.” The bell above the door chimes and Jake smiles and waves at the woman that was pushing the stroller. “Come on in, take a seat wherever you like, I'll be right with you. Good luck with, Sid. Hope he doesn't creep you out. Hope you don't get electrocuted.”

“Pancakes and bacon,” he calls after him when he stands up.

*

He has time to kill before the library opens so he wanders around town.

Gerry from the hardware store opens ten minutes early for him and talks to him for forty minutes about all the things that he’ll need to fix his house.

He talks about footers and reinforcing them. Drywall and double paned windows and how they’ll save him money in the long run.

Geno doesn’t understand any of it, not yet, but by the end he’s charging almost six hundred dollars worth of supplies to his credit card.

“I’ll throw in delivery for free since you’re new to town,” Gerry says with a slap on his back. “And if you ever need any help at all you give me a call.”

Lucy from the florist convinces him that lavender would look lovely lining the path up to his house and day lilies would really brighten up the area in front of his porch. She sends him on his way with a blooming gaillardia in a pot as a housewarming gift.

Alice at the farmstand feeds him fresh strawberries, dandelion greens, and artichokes that she grew in her garden and Lance at the bakery hands him freshly baked bread.

Outside the bakery Michael from the Animal Shelter has set up a booth to take donation and Geno slides a twenty into the jar and takes a flyer from him advertising an adoption event the following Saturday.

“We’ve got all kinds of cats and dogs,” Michael tells him. “They all need good homes and you really shouldn’t be all alone in that house of yours.”

They’re nice and mean well but it’s a bit overwhelming and Geno’s thankful when he pushes open the double doors of the library and finds it blissfully silent.

He tries to set everything he’s carrying down on the front desk but it spills out of his arms at the last second. The carton of strawberries pop open and a few of them roll off the desk. The gaillardia hits the floor and dirt goes everywhere.

“Shit,” he says softly and kneels down to scoop the dirt back into the pot.

“Can I help you with something?”

Geno straightens enough to look over the desk.

There’s a man standing on the other side, broad shoulders and summer tan skin even though it’s early spring.

There’s a nameplate on the desk that says Sidney Crosby.

Sid is beautiful and nothing like what Geno was expecting.

He’s holding half a dozen strawberries in his hands and Geno drops the dirt he’s holding and throws them towards the strawberry container but they knock into the artichokes instead and they roll off the desk as well.

“Sorry. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” He places the strawberries down on the desk and makes sure they don’t move before he steps back. “Why don’t you just….stop. Just stop and wait. I’ll be right back.”

Geno nods and tries not to lose his breath over the sight of his retreating form.

He’s back a moment later holding a dustpan and a broom and Geno pushes himself to his feet as Sid starts to sweep.

“Sorry. People keep giving me things. Everywhere I go people keep giving me things. Can’t say no.”

“They probably wouldn’t have taken no for an answer anyways,” Sid says as he dumps the dirt back into the pot. “That’s what happens when you’re new to town.”

“How you know?”

“If you come in through the main docks in the center of town everyone knows you’re here within the first five minutes. A bunch of gossips in this town, he says quietly.  “You bought the old house down by the shore, didn’t you?” He asks, as if to prove his point.

“Yes. Geno.” Geno sticks his hand out and then remembers to wipe his dirt covered hands on the back of his jeans. “Is nice to meet you.”

Sid shakes his hand once and Geno points to the nameplate. “You’re Sidney.”

“Yeah, what do you need?”

“Books,” Geno says.

“Okay. Well this is a library so you’re going to need to be more specific.”

“Right. Have to fix house so anything about that. Gerry say something about footers. Have to learn what they are. I’ll take everything you have if I can. Lucy wants me to plant garden, she gave me lots of seeds, so books about flowers. Books about growing vegetables. Might get a pet so something about dogs. Maybe cat book just to be safe. Cookbooks. Sailing. Maybe I build some chairs for the porch.”

“Okay. That’s a lot but I’ll see what I can get for you. Wait here.”

Sid takes off down the aisles, pausing to pull books off shelves and then keeps moving. “I’m going to need library card aren’t I? What I need for that?”

“All you need is to sign your name on a piece of paper,” Sid calls from somewhere in the back of the building. “I’ll be right there.”

Geno takes the opportunity to get a good look at his desk. It’s clean and organized with a cup filled with pens next to a stack of post-it notes and jars and jars of seaglass. He can hear Sid’s footsteps to his left and he leans over to grab a jar. He holds it up and lets it catch the light coming through the window.

“Hey.”

The jar slips from his hand and he catches it at the last second. Sid is standing behind him holding a stack of books and Geno gently puts the jar back in it’s place.

“Sorry, just looking. You collect?”

“I just pick up what I find on the beach.”

“There’s a lot of it.”

“The coast is dotted with dozens of shipwrecks. Things have been washing up on the shore here for hundreds of years.”

Geno hums. “Do you have any books on that?” Sid puts the books down on the desk and sighs. “I’ll be right back.”

Geno watches him go and then remembers. “Oh, wait. Wiring maybe not so good. Need some books on that.”

“You’re not an electrician, you shouldn’t be doing that.”

“Well, have to read about it.”

“That’s not….no. That’s not how it works.”

Geno rolls his eyes. “Everyone say that.”

“Everyone is right. You should really call a professional for that.”

Sid ducks behind the shelves and Geno picks up another jar of seaglass to look at.

When he comes back he frowns at the jar in his hand and Geno puts it down. He’s carrying two books, one on shipwrecks and The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Electrical Repair. Geno smiles at him.

“This is for reference. So you don’t do something stupid like stick a fork in an electrical socket or something.”

“Good thing you tell me. Was going to go home and do just that,” Geno jokes. He pushes his tongue against his cheek and watches Sid try not to be impressed with it.

“I just need an ID and I’ll get you in the system. I’ll get you a card and you can sign the back of it and you’re good to go.”

Geno digs his license out of his wallet and apologizes for still having his old address on it. Sid waves it off and types his name into the computer, slowing down at the last letter and staring at the screen. Then he shakes his head and starts to scan the books and Geno relaxes. If he knows who he is he’s not saying.

“You get these for three weeks,” Sid says and Geno starts to stack the books up.

“Might need them for longer than that.”

“Just drop in and let me know. I’ll renew them from here. I doubt anyone will be looking for them.”

“I come back and see you?”

“You can call if you’d like,” Sid says without looking up.

“No, no. I come see.”

“Fine,” Sid says softly as he finishes the last book. “Then I’ll work on your card and you can pick it up the next time you’re here.”

“Can’t wait.”

Sid ignores him and Geno tucks his fifteen books beneath his chin but he can't pick up anything else. He juggles the produce for a moment before Sid says “let me get you a bag” and slides a reusable tote with Perkins Bay Public Library written across it.

“How much,” Geno asks.

“Don't worry about it.”

He helps him load up the books and wedge the carton of strawberries and container of artichokes in there as well so they won't be crushed.

“I come back soon, okay? You'll be here?”

“I work here.”

Sid doesn't looks up from the computer but Geno smiles at him anyways.

*

Geno yanks open the door of the diner and points a finger at Jake who is carrying a plate filled with French fries.

He smiles at him.

“You lie to me.”

“What did I do?” He keeps walking towards her waiting table and Geno follows.

“You tell me stories about Sidney Crosby, make me think he's some scary, old man who steals children. Is wrong. I saw him. He's, he's….he looks.”

“I never said anything about the way he looks. Just how he acts.”

“You could have warned me. Look like an idiot in front of him.”

“Sorry, I should have said he's as pretty as he is weird.”

“Not weird. He helped me, get me all these books. Give me this bag.”

“That maybe the only nice thing he's ever done.”

“He is nice. Very helpful. Didn't want me to stick a fork in a socket.”

“High praise,” he says dryly. “He must really like you.”

“You think?”

Jake rolls his eyes and Geno turns on his heels and heads for the exit.

*

The lumber and supplies from the hardware store are waiting for him when he gets home.

Seeing everything he needs all stacked up makes it seem more real and more daunting and he bypasses the lumber, drops the bag at the inside of the door, and passes out on the lumpy couch in the living room.

When he wakes up the house is cooler than he likes it and his back and knee hurt.

He digs a Pens sweatshirt out of his bag and pulls it on. He’ll have to stop by the furniture store he passed in town tomorrow. One more thing to add to the list.

He sets water on the stove to boil and for the first time since getting here he turns on his phone.

Dozens of texts and missed calls pop up and he ignores them all and calls Tanger instead.

“Dumbest thing you’ve ever done,” Tanger says by way of a hello, “and I’m counting that time you tried to fight Chara.”

“He touch, Sheary. Had to fight. He so small.”

“Whatever, where the fuck are you?”

Geno leans against the railing on the porch. “Canada.”

“Why?”

“Small town. No one knows who I am. Stay in Pittsburgh, go to Russia, everyone knows me.”

“And you think no one knows who you are in Canada?”

“No one has said anything and everyone so nice. Help me out a lot. House needs a lot of work but I have time.”

“So you’re never coming back?”

“Have house here. Nothing for me back there.”

“Your team.”

“Not my team anymore. Can’t do anything for you anymore. It’s too hard. I tell my mama I come here instead of going back home and she cry. No you disappointed in me too.”

“I’m not disappointed, G, I’m worried. You took off without telling anyone. You were just gone. We didn’t know what to think or if you were okay.”

“I’m fine. I need some time. Get away from hockey for a little while. Maybe you can come up and see me this summer. Send you pictures. It’s really beautiful.”

Tanger doesn’t say anything for a moment but when he does he sounds a little sad. “Let me know when you’re ready for guests and I’ll be there.”

They say goodbye and Geno takes a few photos of the view off the front porch to send to him. He’ll show him the house when he’s gotten further along in the renovation. There’s no need to worry him further.

*

It’s not until the morning when he’s looking over the pictures again when he notices the same figure in the water that he saw the night before.

[oh-tetrabiblos]

Graylu Secret Sibling Exchange 2017!

Hi! This is my contribution for the Graylu Secret Exchange! My partner is @fresh-princess-is-here, I hope you like it Reigan!! 

I had a lot of fun writing this but it turned up a bit longer than expected, so I put it under the cut! Anyway, thanks to @graylu-angstweek for hosting this little event! Happy New Year to you all!

To sum up: When a close friend of Makarov makes him an urgent request, he takes it as a personal favor and reunites the two most competent mages for it. The job brings an unexpected reward for the two.

New Year’s Eve was close and Lucy was sitting on a table at the guild remembering how she used to celebrate the New Year with her family. She thought of all the balls and the parties that their parents’ friends hosted, then compared it with how Fairy Tail celebrated it and couldn't help but laugh.

“What the hell are you laughing at again, Lucy?” Natsu waved his hand in front of her eyes looking for attention. “Whatever, move your big ass and help with the decoration for the party, would ya?”

That earned him a slap on the back of the neck.

“Dumbass” Lucy rolled her eyes yet got up nonetheless. She took out some of the garlands Natsu was carrying in a box under his right arm and joined the others.

The party that Fairy Tail hosts every year to celebrate its end is legendary and that means they have been cleaning, decorating and planning each second of the night for a week, all under the supervision of the ever so lovely Erza, not-so-lovely when things got out of control. Something that, being honest, happened quite too much since this was Fairy Tail. So yeah, the week has been a torture and Lucy was meditating about getting a job alone and coming back for the day of the party.

As if the Spirit King had listened to her, Makarov appeared standing over the bar counter holding a paper and reunited the Team Natsu.

“Listen up. A great friend of mine has requested our service urgently. I took it as a personal favor so I need you to success in this job no matter the cost. Got it?” At their nod, Makarov put his serious expression aside and sat over the counter, grabbing his beer firmly. “Good. However, I can't send you all to another city when there are only three days left to our party…” He tugged at the end of his beard and saw Erza ready to volunteer. “I can't send you, Erza, since I need you here helping with the organization. Of course Natsu must not go since we don't want, by any means, something set on fire…” Natsu’s complaints were loud but nobody really payed attention to them. “That leaves you two, Lucy, Gray, I'll leave this on your hands.”

“No problem” Gray smiled at Lucy and they fist bumped.

“What do we have to do?” Lucy asked.

“My friend’s daughter life has been threatened. He hired bodyguards to protect her but the attackers are stronger each time they appear. He has an important business dinner tonight so he can't keep an eye on her and is desperate to finish that nightmare as soon as possible. I want you to find the one who's haunting her, and end him.”

“Why are they after her?” Happy said, landing on Lucy's head. He was wearing a party hat so he wasn't definitely leaving the guild, but he wanted to gossip anyway.

“My friend is a very important strategist of the Magic Council…”

“Let me guess” Gray interrupted “The classic “blackmail by kidnapping daughter” topic, isn't it?”

“Don't worry, master! Count on us!” Lucy grabbed her things and picked up the floor Gray’s long forgotten shirt before passing it to him. “We’re leaving now!” Makarov handled her the paper with the direction and the request.

“It’s on us, old man!”

Gray followed her out of the guild, still buttoning up his shirt.

After a short stop to get their package, Gray and Lucy took the train to Crocus.

“Ah, back to the capital!” Lucy said, leaning back on her seat. It wasn’t long since she had lived there on her own.

“Such good memories, huh?” Gray smiled at her, resting his head on his hand.

“Weeeeell…” She sighed “Do you mean back then when a dragon made my clothes disappear? Living there all alone wasn't very funny either!”

Gray giggled. He dared to laugh at her misfortune!

“You dummy. What an ass!” Lucy pouted.

“Hey” Gray stopped at the middle of his laughter “Did you just call me dummy?” He was beyond amused. “That was kind of cute, you know.”

Lucy decided to ignore both the genuine smile he was directing at her and the shiver that ran down her spine.

“All I remember is calling you an ass” she avoided his eyes and crossed her arms. Why the hell she felt her cheeks warming she didn't know, and his soft laugh was not helping at all.

“I do have good memories in Crocus.” Gray said, gaining her attention again. “You supported me when I lost the first round, that meant a lot to me. It still does, tho.” He winked at her. Lucy leaned in to get a little closer to him. He was right, those were the days.

“Yeah” She looked up to him “I think you did a good job supporting me as well back then.”

They stayed still, not knowing what to do with their proximity, until they felt a constant stare on them. They turned to look at their side where an old man was watching them.

“What a weird way to flirt the younglings have now…” The only thing he said was enough to get Lucy to sit correctly on her seat again and Gray to look out the window with his cheeks exploding in pink.

“Mr. Baclan has been waiting for you.” Was the first thing a servant said when they entered the large house of the requestor’s house. The girl, a bit younger than Lucy and Gray, guided them to what they figured was Mr. Baclan’s office. A tall, grey haired man received both mages.

“Thank you for coming.” Two old green eyes pierced the pair with desperation, although the man maintained the composure. “I’m sure Makarov has given you the details already.” Gray and Lucy nodded. “Gabriela!” He called, and a little girl not older than six came into the room running.

She had raven hair and dark brown eyes, but they couldn’t see much more since the girl was hiding behind her father’s legs.

“I don’t know who is behind the attacks against my precious Gabby, but I want them to stop.”

“Don’t you worry, sir. We won’t let anything happen to your daughter.” Gray said, while Lucy was trying to get the girl’s attention. She extended one of her golden keys and moved it through her fingers, the eyes of the kid fixed on it. Lucy then enclosed it with her hands.

“Blow.” Lucy said, smiling, and the girl ran to her. Standing in front of Lucy she let air out quickly, and the blonde mage opened her hands. The key was no longer there.

“Where did it go!?” Gabriela asked, searching everywhere.

“It’s okay Mr. Baclan, nobody’s going to harm her.” Lucy said, then showed the kid her key again. “Right, Gabby?”

“Yes!”

Gray’s heart skipped a beat when his brain decided it was a good idea to imagine Lucy as the mother of his children.

“So, what are you playing with?” Gray asked Gabby, sitting beside her on the ground after losing a round of “heads or tails” with Lucy to decide which one was going to tell her she had to go to bed.

“She’s my friend Malia!” The girl handed him a beautiful brunette doll. “She’s a princess and that’s cool!”

He gave her the toy back.

“Have you ever met a real princess?” Gray said, an idea forming in his head.

“No, never.” The girl puffed.

“Do you want to know a secret?” He whispered. Gabby nodded, excited. “She is a real princess” Gray said, pointing at Lucy.

“Really!?” The girl exclaimed, the doll now long forgotten.

“Aye. She used to live in a really big house, with at least ten floors. Her garden was longer than this whole town, and she wore the most beautiful dresses of the world.” Gray was exaggerating a bit, but who cares.

“That’s incredible! I met a real princess!” Gabby wanted to go with Lucy, who was quietly reading on a chair, yet she made another question to him first.

“How did you know she is a princess?” You’re so lucky you found one!”

Yes, he is. He thought.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Gray said, looking at his partner. “She’s very, very beautiful, with precious eyes and the smoothest golden hair…” Gabby nodded. “But most of all she’s strong, hella strong, and kind, and forgiving. She loves and supports her friends with all her being, and that’s what makes a real princess.” Why the hell he just told a six-year-old girl about the crush he had on his partner, he didn’t know. Anyway, the girl almost had hearts instead of eyes so he now had to finish the story. “Oh, and she tells the best bedtime stories. Wanna hear one?”

“Yes! Yes!” Gabriela got up so quick she almost falls and ran to Lucy again. “Princess Lucy!”

The blonde looked at her and then at her partner with a confused look, yet she carried the girl nonetheless. Gray saw the bright smile Lucy had when the kid asked her to tell a story, for she was a writer and loved inventing tales. She left with Gabriela to the contiguous room, where the bed was, and came back to Gray, who was waiting relying on the frame of the door, some minutes later.

“What the hell did you tell her? She couldn’t stop calling me ‘princess’” She smiled when Gray shrugged.

“I just told her the truth.” The smirk Gray showed her made Lucy need to rely on the door as well.

“I didn’t know you told tales, too. I want to know that story, though.” He leaned closer to her, placing a hand above Lucy’s head.

“I bet you do.”

Lucy swore she had never been closer to Gray before, a few inches apart of that smirk of him which was making her feel weak on her knees. She placed his right hand over his chest looking for the stability that Gray’s gaze was stealing her. Lucy could feel his heart beating frenetic.

She could've sworn Gray was leaning closer to her if their attention wouldn't have been claimed by the sound of a window breaking.

“What the…” Gray cursed and both their eyes opened wide when they saw gas filling the room where they had been before. “Shit.”

Quickly, Gray froze the lacrima someone threw inside the room to stop it from spilling more gas. Two men wearing all black entered through the window, not expecting to see two mages blocking their way to where their target was sleeping.

“Who are you?” Gray said, ready to fight. Lucy took a step beside him, placing a hand on his back.

“We can’t leave the both of them unconscious, we have to averiguate who they work for.” He nodded.

One of the enemies kneeled to touch the floor and at that moment sand started to fill the room with such force it created a tornado. The other took advantage of the distraction and ran over the wall to get to the door.

“What the fuck are they!” Gray shouted, half closing his eyes due to the sand.

“They seem like real ninjas, not like Natsu!” Lucy said, moving her hand to her keys. “Anyway, leave this to me. Star dress! Scorpio!”

When Lucy changed her form, all the sand fell to the ground immediately, nullifying the tornado. Gray formed an ice bow and shot the other man, pinning him to the wall without even looking away of Lucy and her beautiful body fitting perfectly in that armor. Gray had to force himself to keep his mouth closed. He swallowed hard and approached the man trying to get the arrow off his body to scape. Lucy got back to her normal clothes – two whip movements and their enemy was tied on the floor.

“Well, this was easy.” Gray said. “You, human waste” He hammered the arrow deeper into the man’s shoulder and heard the cry leave the other’s throat. “Who do you work for? Spit it!”

Gray didn't get an answer. Lucy wasn't any luckier either.

“Gray.” She said. “They didn't mutter a word since they came.”

“Yeah, I know. That doesn't mean I…” Gray stopped talking when he saw the horror look on his partner. “Lucy…?”

“Open his mouth. Now.” Lucy ordered and Gray fought with the man to introduce two fingers on his mouth. He forced it open – the man didn't have a tongue.

“What the actual fuck!? How are we going to interrogate them now!?” Gray exclaimed, cleaning his fingers on the ninja’s clothes.

“We don't need to, I know who they are.” Lucy approached Gray. “They belong to a guild of mercenaries called Arde Lucus, I know them because my father used to contract them as bodyguards when we travelled or hosted important people in our house. If you want to be accepted in the guild, you have to cut your tongue off, for they can't tolerate betrayal nor snitchers. The last thing I had heard of them was that they had changed to a dark guild who swindled people to gain money.”

“Seems like the rumors were true, tho.”

“I know where their guild used to be, and I don't think they changed the Crocus headquarters. I just have to go there and crash it down for sure…” Lucy started but Gray laughing made her look at him again.

“You? You’re crazy if you think I'm going to watch you go there all alone. Fucking crazy.” Lucy blushed, yet pouted annoyed.

“But we can't leave Gabby alone. I know the place, so…”

“So you write it down for me and I go there while you take care of her. She likes you much more than she likes me, anyway.” Lucy pointed at him pissed.

“What? And what makes you think I'll let you go there alone!? No way in hell, thank you.” She tied up both ninjas and got ready to leave, but Gray had other plans. He jumped to the windowsill and smiled to the furious Lucy who was about to start rambling and shouting at him.

“Come on, Lucy, don't look at me like that. Just give me the address and before you get rid of those two I’ll be back again, I promise.” Gray smiled and she grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.

“You dumb imbecile.” Lucy sighed, yet explained where the guild was to him. “I hate that you get away with this one…”

“I’ll be okay and you know it.”

��...I hate seeing you go.” Gray changed his playful smirk at her words. Lucy was looking down and grabbing his shirt tight.

“Listen up, Lucy.” He lifted her chin with a finger and looked at her eyes. “I understand how you feel because I can't stand seeing you leave either. But I won't let even a scratch mark your skin if I can do anything against it so… I’ll be right back. Aye?” Gray smiled, leaning closer to Lucy.

“Aye…” She felt her cheeks warm with the proximity, again. Lucy slowly closed her eyes waiting, hoping, for a kiss that never came.

The second after their noses brushed, Gray had jumped off the window and Lucy was seeing him run now with the eyes wide and her heart about to explode in her chest.

That idiot! Lucy didn't even know why she wanted –and still wants– him to kiss her in the first place! She doesn’t like him in the very least! Not at all!

“Bastard.” She cursed, and the two enemies suffered her rage.

Lucy was reading her book beside a sleeping Gabriela when she heard some window crystals break against the floor again. She quickly grabbed her keys, just in case, and ran to the contiguous room hoping to find a raven head safe and sound.

“I'm back.” Gray’s cocky smile greeted Lucy. The relief she felt was fighting her arms for not kicking him in the face while she came closer to her partner.

“You’re a dumb idiot, I want you to know it.” She said.

“That’s rude, Lucy!” He smiled, looking down at her.

“I could’ve made it in half the time, dickhead.”

“I don't doubt it.” Gray placed a hand over Lucy's head, the smile never leaving his lips. “But they won’t ever harm anybody again and it was kind of easy, you know. Anyway, what's with this passive-aggressive swearing?”

Lucy grabbed him by the cheeks and squeezed them.

“It’s your fault” She pulled him close and standing on her tiptoes crashed her lips against his.

Gray wasn't expecting it. Her move had left his heart beating frenetic and made his brain shut down. He closed his eyes anyway and slowly moved his hands down to her waist so he could hold her close to him. His lips moved against Lucy’s, finding them wet and soft. Gray recovered the composure and sucked on her lips, parting them then with his tongue, licking hers.

Lucy caressed his scalp and followed him deep into the kiss until they broke it gasping.

“How’s this my fault?” Gray asked. He hadn't let Lucy go and she blushed, the anger long forgotten.

“Huh… You-you can't try to kiss a girl and then… Then leave. Moron.” Lucy gulped and Gray couldn't help but laugh.

“And this was your revenge? That's cruel Lucy!”

“How is this cruel?” She whined, encircling his neck with her arms. Gray was feeling happy as hell, as if he was dreaming, yet he decided to play along. It's not like the girl you're head over heels for makes the first move everyday.

“Because I like you.” He whispered. “So if you say this was just revenge… You're going to break my heart!” Gray heard Lucy gasp, she was looking at him with wide eyes.

Go big or go home, he thought.

“You like me?” Lucy said. “As in like, like me?” He chuckled.

“Yes.” Lucy tiptoed again and left a peck on his lips. “Hey! How's that you can kiss me whenever you want but I don't have the same right!” Gray teased.

“I never said you couldn't, Gray.” She smiled, tracing a pattern with her index finger down his chin. “I may or may not like you back.” His cocky grin appeared again and he leaned until brush his lips with hers.

“You may not? That hurts me, princess.” Gray lifted her off the ground, holding her tight.

“Kiss me and you'll figure it out.”

And he did. Oh, how he kissed her.

BONUS

“It was a nice job…” Gray said, following Lucy close on their way back to the guild from the train station. “But we didn't get a reward, tho. That sucks.”

“Are you sure we didn't get a reward, Gray?” She looked at him over her shoulder, rising an eyebrow.

Gray smiled and fastened his pace to reach her and hug her from behind, kissing her neck while they walked together.

“Well, I sure did.”

Lucy laughed so he smiled, too.

“I was talking about sloping off working on the guild, perv.” Lucy turned around and looked at him in the eyes. A warm ocean blue staring back at her when she put her arms around his shoulders. “But this isn't bad either.”

They joined in a passionate kiss, oblivious to their surroundings.

“Holy shit. Wait for Mira to know that.”  Said a certain brunette girl, holding still a bottle of rum and running to spread the gossip.