#not almost not kind of but dead done-zo

[willowser]

thinking about you laying in bed with bakugou and lightly tracing the messy edges of the scar in the middle of his chest, hardly able to comprehend how deep that wound runs. it had already been there for years by the time you'd met him, but sometimes you see it and are unable to swallow the fact that—at one time—you were alive and he wasn't.

very quietly, you say, "it's crazy to think how easily i could have missed you,"

because it's not every day you meet and fall in love with a man that's died and come back. if fate is destined and soulmates are real, you imagine the two separate paths of your lives traveling parallel, in sync—and his breaking away for one horrible moment, torn from you before you even knew it.

bakugou is half-asleep, you know, but he shifts until his chin is lightly nudging your forehead, and speaks into your hair. "nah," he murmurs, voice thick and slow and slurred. "would'a found you eventually."

and somehow, you can't find it in your heart to doubt him.

[aetheryic]

ker paces angrily. he keeps looking over at zenos then breaking gaze to gripe to himself, muttering harshly under his breath. eventually, he seems to give up and turns sharply on his heel, red eyes eerily similar to laurel's blazing as he now stares at zenos. "you're a piece of him. my kostas. i knew we were sundered and that soul would be in tatters but you-" he jabs a finger forward into zenos's chest. "you are similar in colour only. kostas was gentle. whatever was from him-- what was done to you? by who?"

if not for the sheer oddity of the man before him, zenos might have reasoned him a hallucination. perhaps another odd vision like those of raining fire, eternal destruction. creativity like that rarely occurred to him, even amidst the hundreds of stories he read over and over as a younger boy. he finds himself incapable of prying his own gaze away from the ruby irises that don’t belong to him. they can’t.

my kostas.

“ laurel … “ his voice is weaker than he expects it to come out. pale blue eyes narrow at ker like it’ll force him to disappear, disgusted he could pull forth something other than the apathy well suited to a fractured prince like him. this one isn’t laurel. he isn’t illuminated at the thought of combat, nor ecstatic at the notion of shared and equal violence. no … the man ( not an ascian, though not quite someone from his own time ) could never be his laurel.

“ i will ask you to refrain from shoving your finger at me only once. “ he speaks, voice returning to its low, hollow tone. no one save a ghost dares to approach and ask what happened to him — so obviously knowing zenos is broken, monstrous, a product of garlemald. all is quiet without anyone else around, perhaps a blessing if this is to claim his evening. “ where would you have me start ? my father using prisoners to beat his own flesh and blood, his experimenting on us until it caused irreparable damage ? “ in his younger sister’s case rather than his own. dead now, he almost hopes for her sake.

what kind of world is left for them ? the abuse made zenos stronger, a perfectly crafted weapon, but in the end none could control him. “ or shall i begin before that ? my great grandfather, solus zos galvus, designing this ill fated nation for his own personal delusions — presumably you would know him as emet-selch. what a pathetic dream, returning a world no longer real to those yet living. our souls are cracked, vile shards now, and your gentle kostas must be unrecognizable amongst the pieces. “

[clockworklozenges]

So, a good five or so years back, I played in one of the best worst DnD games I have ever been in. The DM had bought the Libris Mortis book, which, if you were unaware, was a 3.5 splatbook adding in a lot of undead stuff, including some monsters and undead player races and stuff. Wanting to try it out, me and my gaming group decided to play things from it, our then DM deciding to run a completely homebrewed session. This proved to be a...

Terrible Idea™

(for the uninitiated, never homebrew something you do not fully understand unless it's just cosmetic. If you want to make all elves worship the god of garlic bread, Ultimo-Metatron-Omega, go ahead, but unless you know how the game works, don't make mechanical changes). So we all picked stuff from the books-one player played a skeleton Sorcerer who in life was a tribal shaman, but an attempt at healing went wrong, turning him undead as his life energy was replaced with negative energy, explaining why most of his spells were necromancy and suchlike.

Another player played Krug, an antipaladin in very spiky full plate. He was a zombie made by a necromancer of a paladin who was fighting him, but his allies killed his would-be master before he could assert control, and not wanting to just off him, his allies just...yeeted his body into a portal and hoped it'd re-kill him. It did not kill him hard enough. It did, however, explain his stats which...oof. He had already got debuffs to some stats due to being a zombie, and rolled abysmally. Fortunately for the player, he played mostly to socialise, so didn't much care.

I played... Count Nox Feratu, the Campire. As in, a vampire with a very camp German accent, which I did not break for the whole time I was playing him. To the point where "ach, nein, I haf bin heet! Heal me, meine freunde!" was par for the course. My overly camp vamp was a wizard, but due to level adjustment was a bit of a shoddy one. For backstory, he'd been ousted from his clan for ineptitude, and had sworn revenge. I was going for a swordmage build but never got there. All his spells were utility or just necromancy spells.

Our last player played...sigh...Damien Bloodmoon, cleric of Nerull, God of murder and undeath. He was one of the clerics from the book's murder Domain, meaning that he got buffs to damage. He was a vicious arse both in character and out of it, and was so dripping with edge compared to the paladin with the same IQ as a horse after its trip to the glue factory, the shaman who thought killing fixed people and the Campire that if you gave him a pat on the back you'd have finely diced your hand into a red mist. Not going too outlandish with his backstory of wanting to dominate the world as his undead thralls, Damien F***ing Bloodmoon had only taken spells which either charmed live people, dealt negative energy damage or messed with ability drain and suchlike, which he used with aplomb on townsfolk on our way to our objective. He was also, importantly, playing an elf of some sort, I forget which kind. Meaning that of the party, only one was alive.

So, just as an aside, for those of you that haven't played 3.5e DnD or have only played 5e, in Libris Mortis, undeath was gone over in detail, and had a litany of pros and cons. For one thing, undead had only the HP they had-folks like Damien F***ing Bloodmoon could be 'dying', and had some time to be stabilised before meeting the reckoning of Papa John and dying proper. Undead did not, it was just how much you had and if you ran out, poof, you're dust, bones and fertiliser again. You were also harmed by positive energy, so healing spells hurt you, as did potions of healing. However, undead were kind of hardy - poison immunity, some had resistance to non-magical melee damage, stuff that drained your ability scores and levels didn't work on them, some crits wouldn't do extra damage, and the best part- negative energy healed undead. Meaning all the spells our party had which damaged others like the living Damien Bloodmoon were curative ones for us. Keep this in mind.

So, we began our quest, learning of a necromancer a nearby town was plagued by. After using our skills (to whit: Damien Bloodmoon charming and drawing the life force out of random villagers and the only potion seller in the town whilst we went shopping. Krug got a snazzy hat, which we put on top of his helmet, and we chatted to townsfolk as I looked alive enough to pass as human and the shaman had a fake beard and toupee that people were too awkward to point out was fake so went along with it) we learn that the necromancer has a base of operations in the cemetery. "Oh ja, zo original, dahlink. Ve vill need to educate zis guy on vhat is chic and vhat is just shabby!"

So we head there and the nightmare begins. Damien Leads the charge, using all of his knowledge to deduce that the shambling horde moving towards us were stronger-than-your-average-bear undead, and he was right. These were powerful armoured zombie mages of some sort, casting ability draining spells, negative energy ray spells and even having auras of negative energy that dealt damage on a failed Fortitude save. Even their punch and quarterstaves did negative energy damage as well as the usual bludgeoning or unarmed. However...only one of us was really in danger and the DM's face fell when the squishy casters walked up and began shanking their super-special homebrew zombie wizards, being healed by the damage of their attacks as we cut them down.

Like I said, one of the benefits of undeath is that negative energy actually heals you. So the strikes of the magic staves and punches that hit us did some basic damage. Which was then immediately healed by the negative energy their weapon strikes and spells were doing.

However, you'll recall that Damien Bloodmoon was an elf. And not dead. Being a Cleric of a death god doesn't mean that you have the abilities of an undead. That meant that even with the DM being merciful, by the end of the first fight he was covered in blood, mud and withered away to just above half his original strength and constitution. More were patrolling, so we had to run. But that posed a problem.

Remember Krug had heavy armour? And recall his awful stats? He in fact, hadn't got enough strength to wear the armour he'd been given for backstory. He didn't, according to the DM, have enough to remove his own armour. And we attempted to, but also failed our checks according to the DM. And Damien Bloodmoon refused to help, simply blaming Krug and his player. Krug's player thought it was hilarious, and Krug only had enough Intelligence and Wisdom to say his own name, so saw no problem. And Krug, Nox Feratu and Shaman realised that there really...wasn't a problem.

For us, at least.

We slogged through three combats dragging Krug and wading through the mud with him. His speed was so slow that for every step he took, we took about ten. The DM was confused and infuriated that his encounters weren't working, but refused to change them. So we had fun role-playing. Or at least three of us did.

Damien Bloodmoon refused to roleplay, and none of his ranged spells could affect the zombie mages. When he went into melee, he came out wounded as all hell. He went down twice, and it was only the healing supplies of the shaman that saved him.

All the while, he was... Let's say not best pleased. Damien Bloodmoon was getting increasingly wounded, exasperated and longing for the sweet embrace of death as reprieve from the humiliation. His player was getting increasingly redder and rage-filled as time passed. Each fight ended with our characters stronger than ever and his a bloody pulp on the floor, with poor in-character knowledge (and terrible rolls) preventing him from realising why.

Eventually, we reached the final boss, pausing only to paint Krug's armour in contact poison just in case, and to find a stick to help the now-partially-crippled Damien Bloodmoon, cleric of death and murder, walk after being beaten up by angry zombie wizards for hours. And it had, indeed, been hours. Among us, only Damien had a bonus to strength, and we had two swords, a mace and a staff between the four of us. Meaning it was re-death by a thousand cuts for the enemy and a slog and a half for us.

We reach the necromancer and, having taken so long due to dragging the oblivious Krug with us, his big ritual is complete- he raises a fist-sized black onyx egg aloft, crackles with arcane power and causes the bones around him to coalesce into one massive creature - an undead, giant-sized rust monster, radiating an Aura of pure negative energy. Krug opened his arms wide, eager for the metal-eating monster cockroach to free him from his poison-painted metal prison. It ignores him as he's still very far away. Me and the others have our weapons and armour devoured.

Our DM was very much a stickler for note-taking. So because Damien Bloodmoon hadn't written 'clothes' on his sheet, his armour being eaten by the monster left him naked and afraid.

It became clear that the DM had done another f***y-wucky. See, the Aura of negative energy healed me and the Sorcerer by more than its other attacks did. So whilst Damien Bloodmoon was naked, soaked in mud and bleeding to death almost crushed to a pulp in the fetal position, rocking backwards and forwards as his player seethed with hatred, the Shaman and the Campire set about beating the thing to death with our bear hands and a stick.

The session ended once we killed the necromancer, or rather when Krug walked up to him, closed his arms and just crushed the noodle-armed bad guy to death with the weight of his ridiculous armour and poisoned him with its paintwork.

We never revisited the game afterwards. We were told later on that the DM wanted us to use the non-undead races. But at no point had he said as much, even when we asked him about our characters and the restrictions on them. We also learned a valuable lesson. DM for the players who are there, not the ones who you have an idealised mental image of. Tailor your game, otherwise you'll get a sitcom featuring a camp nosferatu, a shaman with no healing, a paladin who could barely move and a Cleric of murder who was ironically the only one at risk of actually dying.

[astradrifting]

This is kind of inspired by this recent ask I sent to @esther-dot about Jon’s characterisation and Jonsa shippers’ apparent disregard for it, because it made me think of another part of Jon’s characterisation that is really integral to who he is. Mainly, that Jon really loves his brothers. Especially Robb. His rival and best friend and constant companion. Jon envies him, competes with him, buried a formative traumatic memory where he was deeply hurt by him... but ultimately loves him. Complex relationships with his brothers, both the Starks and his Night’s Watch brothers, are a running theme in Jon’s chapters.

Speaking of Jon’s brothers...

Aegon VI and Robb have a lot of potential parallels, actually. The “Young” moniker, red-haired counselors who are also their parents, trained to be the heir to a great kingdom from a young age, the barely younger half-brother Jon borne of their father’s dishonour of their mother… one that they might both have a good relationship with despite that?

The show tried to play with Jon ‘accepting’ his Targaryen lineage through the jonerice romance, very unconvincingly because it was simultaneously undermining it at every opportunity, in what was maybe a half-assed attempt at Pol!Jon (”They’ll all come to see you for what you are” isn’t anything but a threat in all contexts).

Jon will ultimately choose the Starks over everything else, that’s not really a question. But if Jon were to genuinely connect with another Targaryen, it’d likely be easier for him to find kinship with a half-brother than with an aunt - he has a basis for positive relationships with trueborn half-brothers, while the only aunt figure he’s ever known about is a) long dead and b) actually his mother. I think it’d both make more sense and be more compelling for GRRM to leverage Jon’s existing complex relationships with brotherhood by having him interact with and build a relationship with Aegon, than a rushed and out-of-character romance with Dany. 

Jon also is already primed to believe that Aegon is the real deal, that he was saved as a baby, because he’s already done the exact same thing himself - he swapped out a baby of royal blood who was in danger for a common-born boy, and then sent him halfway across the world for safety (side note: if Septa Lemore is Ashara, and if the baby was actually Ashara’s son as theorised here by @agentrouka-blog, that would just strengthen the parallel, because it would be his body double’s mother caring for him, as Gilly has to do for Mance’s son).

They’re definitely going to come into conflict first - politically, Jon will likely be in a position of power in the North by the time they meet, maybe as the KitN through Robb’s will or regent for Rickon, and probably will fight for Northern independence, while Aegon is fighting to be king of the Seven Kingdoms, not 6. Personally, it will be hard to get past the fact that Jon is the direct result of Rhaegar dishonouring Elia, plus that the Kingsguard who should have been protecting her were all stationed in Dorne, guarding Jon’s mother (in whatever capacity). But these interactions, a conflict and eventual friendship/brotherhood between them, would all be a lot more layered than jonerice can really offer. If a relationship between Jon and Dany was truly all that GRRM has been building up to, then there would have been no need for R+L=J - it adds nothing to that storyline, it doesn’t even make it a forbidden romance, because aunt-nephew is hardly the worst incest the Targaryens have engaged in.

It’s almost inevitable that Da*nerys is going to kill Aegon VI/Young Griff in the books, likely by burning him with dragonfire, in the Second Dance of the Dragons. The weird Dragonpit meeting in the show was very contrived, but it does make sense for Dany to meet the ruler on the Iron Throne at least once in a semi-peaceful context. In the show, she used her dragons only to intimidate Cersei, but she didn’t have a personal grievance with her. Aegon is in much more danger during such a meeting. After all she will think he is a pretender, and she doesn’t much care for the rules of safe conduct, as she showed to the envoys from Yunkai.

Dany shrugged, and said, "Dracarys."

The dragons answered. Rhaegal hissed and smoked, Viserion snapped, and Drogon spat swirling red-black flame. It touched the drape of Grazdan's tokar, and the silk caught in half a heartbeat. 

[...]

"You swore I should have safe conduct!" the Yunkish envoy wailed.

"Do all the Yunkai'i whine so over a singed tokar? I shall buy you a new one... if you deliver up your slaves within three days. Elsewise, Drogon shall give you a warmer kiss." She wrinkled her nose. "You've soiled yourself. Take your gold and go, and see that the Wise Masters hear my message."

(ASOS, Dany IV)

"Ah, there is the thorn in the bower, my queen," said Hizdahr zo Loraq. "Sad to say, Yunkai has no faith in your promises. They keep plucking the same string on the harp, about some envoy that your dragons set on fire."

"Only his tokar was burned," said Dany scornfully.

(ADWD, Dany VI)

So Dany will burn the Blackfyre pretender, and everyone will be happy and cheer to see the rightful queen, the last Targaryen, Slayer of Lies, Breaker of Chains, Insert-The-Million-Other-Titles-Here. Right?

Except how would she prove that he’s an imposter? She can’t exactly roll up with an Alt Shift X video pointing out that Illyrio has said some weird things about Aegon. Is Varys going to have an attack of remorse and explain his whole plot, complete with Blackfyre family tree? Or maybe she’ll explain that she went on a vision quest in Qarth and Aegon totally matches up with the vague symbolism that a bunch of drugged up warlocks told her before she set them on fire?

I don’t think it’s going to matter if Aegon is fake or not, and we might never find out either way. The mystery of his identity isn’t his main narrative, and all of his significance to the story and to multiple other characters is removed if he’s proved to not be Aegon VI. Him being proved fake would just make this plotline a weird, unnecessary digression on Dany’s journey to being the righteous and true queen, his death just another #girlboss moment for her. That’s definitely going to be her perception of it, but once she reaches Westeros we won’t have to rely on only her POV of her actions. History is written by the winners, and no one’s going to miss that it’s a lot more convenient for Dany if the boy with a stronger claim than her turns out to have been fake all along. Arianne and the Dornish are definitely not going to take it lying down, and neither is Jon. He’s not going to fall in love with the woman who murdered his brother, especially by burning him alive. ADWD has plenty to say about how much he hates death by fire.

“Men say that freezing to death is almost peaceful. Fire, though … do you see the candle, Gilly?”

She looked at the flame. “Yes.”

“Touch it. Put your hand over the flame.”

Her big brown eyes grew bigger still. She did not move.

“Do it.” Kill the boy. “Now.”

Trembling, the girl reached out her hand, held it well above the flickering candle flame.

“Down. Let it kiss you.”

Gilly lowered her hand. An inch. Another. When the flame licked her flesh, she snatched her hand back and began to sob.

“Fire is a cruel way to die. Dalla died to give this child life, but you have nourished him, cherished him. You saved your own boy from the ice. Now save hers from the fire.”

(ADWD, Jon II)

Funnily enough, the same fire as a kiss imagery from Dany burning the envoy’s tokar appeared there too, also used as a threat. 

If he is not a kinslayer, he is the next best thing. [...] What sort of man can stand by idly and watch his own brother being burned alive?

(ADWD, Jon IX)

So Aegon’s death is not going to be a triumphant victory for Dany, after which everyone proclaims her the true queen. It’s likely to just solidify opposition to her, from every corner of Westeros. If it happens during a summit or negotiation, it’d be even more of a tragic parallel to Robb and the Red Wedding; the young king murdered off of the battlefield, at an event where he was promised safe conduct. Featuring Dany in the role of Roose Bolton and Tywin Lannister. Tywin’s already died a very undignified death, and Roose Bolton looks to be on his way too.

I think the tragedy of Aegon’s death would also hit harder if we see it through Jon, as a main POV, or at least the aftermath of it. Jon was integral at the Dragonpit meeting after all, and probably would be at a peace summit or negotiation between the leaders of Westeros and the invading force.

In ASOS, there’s a curious lack of Jon’s reaction to Robb’s death. We see his initial reaction to Bran and Rickon’s supposed deaths when he gets back to Castle Black, but he doesn’t even know about Robb’s death until Stannis arrives to defeat the wildlings, and we’re not shown the moment he’s told about it. He barely even thinks about it, not even a mention until he meets with Stannis on top of the Wall:

“Your brother was the rightful Lord of Winterfell. If he had stayed home and done his duty, instead of crowning himself and riding off to conquer the riverlands, he might be alive today. Be that as it may. You are not Robb, no more than I am Robert.”

The harsh words had blown away whatever sympathy Jon might have had for Stannis. “I loved my brother,” he said.

(ASOS, Jon XI)

And that’s literally all we get that is specifically about Robb’s death - the rest of Jon’s chapters, his guilt and grief is about the loss of all his siblings, and the idea of stealing Winterfell from them. It doesn’t really make sense for him to not think about it at all, considering how close they were. This reminds me of how he has a non-reaction to Sansa’s marriage to Tyrion as well, as talked about in this post by @agentrouka-blog. Part of this could be Jon’s tendency towards denial and suppression of all his feelings, but it also points to GRRM explicitly obscuring his reaction - perhaps because he’s going to explore it in the wake of another brother dying a very similar death? One that this time he’ll be there to witness?

[monaownsmyass]

And They Were Roommates

Requested fic by anon (if you have any fic ideas or requests you'd like me to write, you can leave me an ask!)

Book: Queen B, (after) Chapter 13

Pairing: Zoey Wade x MC (Bea Hughes)

Genre: Fluff

Rating: G, none

Word count: 3,140

A/N: Zoey and MC have a impromptu sleepover after making up from their fight a few weeks ago. Took shorter than expected cuz I wanted to get it done today so here it is! I think this might be my fav fic of mine so far :)

Tag list: @ineedskyecrandall @kamilahsayeet2063 @avalawrencefl @lovekamilahsayeed @thequeenkamilahsayeed @heygmicheelle (lmk if anyone would like to be included or removed in my next fics.)

"Have you gotten the chips yet?"

"Yeah, do you have the chocolate?"

"First thing I grabbed!"

Zoey wrapped her arms around my waist from the back and rested her chin on my shoulder. Together we peered into our shopping cart, almost overflowing with snacks. Underneath was our weekly grocery but it was entirely hidden.

"Babe, this is a ridiculous amount junk food," Zoey laughs.

"I mean, it's not like we're gonna finish it in one night. We could always keep it for some other time or even throw a party or something," I protested with a smile.

"This is basically an invitation for diabetes and an aneurysm."

"I don't see you making any effort to put some back though," I challenged.

She just laughs and lets go of me as we continued making our way down the aisle.

It was past sundown and we came to the grocery store with the only intention of stocking up our fridge with groceries. However, on the way, Zoey suggested we have a 'sleepover night' since we made up even though we live together and it's been weeks since the fallout. I'm not complaining though, I thought it'd be really fun especially if it means spending more time her.

And of course I suggested on getting some snacks 'cuz what's a sleepover without 'em? But we may have went a little overboard.

We headed towards the checkout and unloaded all the items onto the conveyor belt. My phone kept going off so I pulled it out to check it. Poppy was spamming my notifications again. The bitch just won’t leave me alone.

I scrolled through the 52 messages and rolled my eyes. I turned my phone on silent then looked back to Zoey who was already paying. I helped her place all the foodstuff back into the cart. Before leaving, I caught Zoey place the tips of her outstretched fingers to her chin and then bring it forward in the direction of the cashier. The cashier returned the gesture.

Wait, did Zoey know sign language?

As we made our way out of the grocery store, I turned to Zoey. "Were you communicating in sign language to the cashier?"

"Yeah, they had hearing impairment. You know ASL too?"

I shook my head. "I mean, I only know the basics like 'yes' and 'no'. I didn't know you knew sign language."

I loved finding out new things about her. It was a pleasant surprise every time.

Zoey let out a small chuckle. "You still have lots to learn about me, babe." She gave me a mischievous look. "Which is exactly why this sleepover is vital!"

I laughed at her as we reached our car and transferred the grocery bags once again. We drove back to campus, blasting music and jamming out to it on the way. I looked over to see her singing her heart out and making exaggerated facial features while bouncing up and down. Moments like these with Zoey made me so glad I was dating my best friend. I smiled at her and joined in.

When we arrived, Zoey and I piled the groceries onto our arms, refusing to make a second trip to the car and back.

We almost made it to our dorm room when Zoey stopped dead in her tracks. I bumped into her, causing me to almost loose my balance and drop everything I was carrying. Fortunately, I managed to prevent myself from falling.

"What the hell, Zo?"

"It's here!"

"What's here?"

She was looking down so I tried to peak over her shoulder to see what she was staring at. Being taller than me, it was no use.

Finally, she stepped aside to unlock the door and I saw what she was talking about. It was a package right at our doorstep.

"What's that?"

"You'll see." She entered and placed all the food on the kitchen counter before going out to retrieve the box.

I put the bags I were carrying beside hers and followed her to the dining table where she took a knife to cut open the tape sealing the box.

"Voilà!" she exclaimed and flip the lids open in a flourish.

The object inside was still wrapped up in plastic but I could make out some fabric through the clear wrapping.

"Here, this is for you! Catch!" She tossed me a plastic bag with the fabric in it and took one for herself.

I held it up and finally figured out what it was.

"Zoey Wade, you did not!"

"But yes! I did!"

I ripped open the plastic the same time she did and we unfolded the material to show it off to the other.

"You got us matching onesies?!"

She nodded enthusiastically with the biggest, cutest grin ever.

"I got us penguins 'cuz I remember you saying you like them. Also, they're so cute! Just like us!" she said with a laugh.

I didn't even bother with a reply, I was too excited. I pulled her by the face into a kiss. Her soft lips met mine, kissing me back. It was brief but if I wasn't already giddy with excitement, I definitely was now. "Thank you, Zo!"

We quickly changed into our respective onesies and modelled for the other.

"Aww, you're the cutest penguin ever," Zoey spoke in a soft and gentle voice that made me blush.

"No, you are!" I rushed to her to embrace her in a hug. "You're so soft," I giggled into her shoulder.

"Now we know our cuddle game is gonna be strong later," she laughed along with me. "Come, we have to set up the pillow fort."

I nodded but refused to let go off her. Human Zoey was a fantastic hugger but Penguin Zoey only made it better.

"Maybe I should've gotten you a monkey onesie instead," she teased and turned her head to kiss my temple. Then, she gently pried me away. "I promise we'll continue this later."

I finally let go and we got to work, building our pillow fort in the middle of the living room. It took us longer than we'd like to admit to set up the blanket as the tent. Whenever we'd secure one side, the other would come undone. It only made us crack up harder the more often it happened.

"Okay, okay, I got this side, you go grab the other!"

I rushed to the other side and made sure it would stay in place. We cautiously let go of the blanket and backed away. To our surprise, it didn't fall.

"Yes!"

We tossed a bunch of pillows into the blanket fort and hung fairy lights all over, including inside. We switched off the main lights a took a step back to admire our handiwork. We snaked an arm around each other to side hug.

"Good job, babe," Zoey smiled, squeezing me into her.

"You too, beautiful." I gave her a peck on the cheek in reply.

"Alright, time to call for pizza now!"

"Can you do it on your phone? Poppy has been blowing up mine so I'm avoiding it at all cost."

Her eyes widen. "Still? It's been so long!"

"I know," I sighed. "I'll probably block her tomorrow or something. Tonight, it's all about you and me."

"You got that right," Zoey murmured and gave me a small kiss on the lips.

She grabs her phone and dials up the pizza place. Once she was done, she went into her room and came out holding a folded picnic blanket.

"C'mon," she said and stretched out her other hand for me to hold.

I accepted her warm hand in mine instinctively, loving the way it fits perfectly. "Where are we going? What's up with the mat?"

"The delivery guy said he couldn't come up to the dorm to deliver it. The best he can do is meet us at the courtyard. So I thought we could maybe stargaze while we wait."

My heart skipped and my breath hitched. Stargazing with Zoey? How could I say no? Who in their right mind would say no?

“In our onesies?”

“Only if you want to.”

"Of course I want to!" I blurted and immediately dragged her out the door with her chuckling at me.

At the courtyard, Zoey spread open the picnic blanket and laid it on the ground. She sat on it and reached up to grab my hand, pulling me down to sit beside her. We laid down on our backs and looked up at the sky. It was clear and the stars seemed to twinkle extra bright tonight.

Zoey's hand moved around in search of mine and interlaced our fingers together when she found it. I gave it a squeeze and smiled into the night, never felt so contented before. Just two people in penguin onesies under the night sky, holding hands.

"Do you recognise any constellations?" I asked her.

"I can't say I do, are you some kind of astronomy expert that I didn't know?"

I laughed. "No, but my dad used to point some out to me when I was a kid. He'd take me outside and we'd just sit and watch the stars."

I glanced at her and saw a small smile play on her lips. That in turn made me smile. I was sharing a meaningful, nostalgic moment with her and that sent a thrill through me. I couldn't express how grateful I was that I could share this with her.

"Tell me about them." She looked at me and then back at the starry sky.

"That one is the Ursa Major, or the Great Bear," I said softly, just loud enough for her to hear. I pointed to the sky and traced the stars with my finger. She moved in closer to me to see where I traced.

"And that’s the Big Dipper. It consists of the seven brightest stars of the Ursa Major." I continued to move my finger in the air.

It was really cute that her eyebrows furrowed in concentration as she was listening but the she squinted. "That doesn't look like a bear."

I laughed again and said, "Almost every constellation doesn't look like their names, darling. You should see Corvus."

"That's a little weird."

"Why don't you go ahead and name one then," I insisted.

"Okay," she replied and pointed to the brightest star in the sky I could see. "I'm calling that Bea Hughes."

I started giggling and I could feel the butterflies in my stomach flutter furiously.

"Then that one should be called Zoey Wade." I indicated to the star that was directly beside the one she chose.

She grinned at me and I squeezed her hand once more. "Perfect."

She rolled into her side and I followed suit. Facing each other, we stared at the other for a while with our hands still interlocked. I brought my other hand up to brush the stray strands that fell in her face. I rested my hand against her cheek and gently stroked her smooth skin. She closed her eyes.

I looked at her in unabashed adoration. It wasn't the first time I was blown away by her and I was certain it wouldn't be the last time. My eyes trailed over the features of her face. She was perfection.

She opened her eyes and I gasped as a wave of emotion flooded me. My heart was beating a million miles an hour as realisation dawn on me when I gazed into her brilliant eyes.

I loved Zoey Wade.

I loved the way she tossed her head back when she laughed. I loved how her eyes lit up when she was talking about something she was passionate about. I loved the way she looked at me. I loved that she remembers the smallest things about me even when I don't recall mentioning it to her myself. I loved getting to know new things about her. I loved the way she brightens my day just by seeing her

I was in love with her.

I reacted the only way I knew how to; I pulled her into me to hug her and immediately buried my face in her neck.

"I adore you, Zo." I kissed the skin where her neck and shoulder meets.

"I adore you too."

We stayed like that in comfortable silence until we heard someone shout 'oh my god!' and footsteps coming closer.

I felt her turn her head to the source and sigh. Me with my face still in her neck whispered, "Is that the demon I hear?"

"Unfortunately."

Poppy stopped right over us and crossed her arms. I looked straight up at her and Zoey shifted to look at her too.

"This is why you've been ignoring me?!" she practically screeched. "You've been ignoring me to lie around in the middle of the lawn in stupid animal suits? With her?"

"Why? Jealous?"

She scoffed. "As if, Farmsville!"

"Shoo shoo, we're in the middle of something," Zoey said unamused while waving her hand at Poppy.

Poppy started shouting at us but we weren't paying attention any longer.

"Ughh! Fine! You will regret this!" she huffed and finally stomped away.

"Oh, just in time," I said as I saw the pizza delivery person.

We paid for our pizza and headed back up to our dorm.

Once we stepped passed the door, I heard Zoey's phone buzz and then laugh.

"What's up?"

"Check your phone."

Still on silent, I whipped out my phone and saw the notifications. My eyes widen when I saw both Zoey and I's ranking on The T increase. I scrolled through the feed and saw a picture of us from just now at the courtyard, cuddling.

"Poppy thought she could submit this and ruin us!" Zoey said between giggles. "Obviously it backfired 'cuz now everyone at Belvoire thinks we're the cutest couple on campus."

I went through the comments.

'Omg, they're so cute!' 'I didn't know they were together but they look good.' 'They're perfect for each other!' 'And they were roommates...'

I snorted and glanced over at Zoey who looked beyond ecstatic. "Suck it, Poppy!"

I laughed at her and wrapped my arms around her waist.

"Y'know, we do make a pretty cute couple."

"Only 'pretty cute'?" Zoey teased and returned my hug. "We're fricken' adorable!"

I brought her in for a kiss and she grabbed onto me a little tighter. One hand was on the back of my neck and the other went around my waist, gripping it. The way she kissed me was electric. Surges of energy ran through my veins, making me come alive. The passion and yearning poured into the kiss made me breathless. Being in love with her only amplified the feeling.

Zoey broke the kiss, panting but mostly laughing.

"Sorry, babe," she said, trying to catch her breath. "I just remembered we're both in penguin onesies."

I broke into a fit of giggles. God, I loved this girl.

"Damn right we are," I confirmed, beaming. "Must look pretty ridiculous but it's sure as hell comfy."

Zoey grinned back at me and grabbed my hand to lead me into the pillow fort. We took the pizza with us along with a bottle of wine.

"Cheers!" We clinked glasses and took a swig after she poured some out.

Even though we had a TV in the living room, Zoey brought out her laptop 'cuz our pillow fort was blocking it. She set it up and started playing 'Breakfast at Tiffany's'.

I turned to Zoey. "How did you know this was my favourite classic?"

"Who doesn't love a good Hepburn movie once in a while?"

We dug into the pizza while enjoying our wine. After we were done, we got into a comfortable position. She laid back, propping her head up using the pillows as I laid my head on her chest, arms wrapped around each other as well as our legs. Some of the snacks we got earlier surrounded us for easy access. She was right, cuddling with the onesies was on a whole other level.

"Can we just stay like this, forever?"

"I'd love to but I think we have other obligations," she joked.

"Can we at least do this every weekend then? Penguin onesies, pillow forts and all?"

"Sounds good to me."

The movie continued and eventually, Holly Golightly started singing 'Moon River'. I heard Zoey singing along softly.

'Moon river, wider than a mile, I'm crossing you in style someday.'

I gazed up at her and she looked back at me, still singing.

'Oh dream maker, you heartbreaker, Wherever you're going, I'm going your way.'

Mesmerised by the beautiful sound of her voice, I just stared at her in wonderment while she sang the rest of the song.

"You're unreal," I spoke in amazement when she was done.

She giggled and kissed my forehead. "That's you, darling."

I laid her head back onto her chest and listened to the gentle thump in her chest as the movie carried on. A while later, I looked up to peer at Zoey only to find her eyes closed.

She must have fallen asleep. Thinking back to my recent revelation when we were stargazing, I started speaking quietly, just above a whisper. I couldn't hold it in.

"You probably can't hear me, but I have to get something off of my chest," I said. "Kinda funny that were in penguin onesies. 'Cuz penguins mate for life. Not that I'm saying we'll be together for the rest of our lives even though I really hope we do."

I exhaled slowly and continued, "What I mean is that, after the whole situation at the Zeta's, I thought I lost you for good. I can't tell you how lucky I am that you're giving me a second chance. We're in this together and I mean it. I'll always be by your side no matter what."

I closed me eyes. She may not hear this part in person but I hope she hears it in her dreams. "What I'm trying to say... what I'm saying is that, I love you, Zo."

Instantly, I could hear her heart begin to pound rapidly. My eyes shot open as butterflies invaded my stomach. Did she hear me?

I felt her hand that was resting my my thigh twitch. I look down to see the barest movement of her fingers. Her ring and middle finger down while the rest were stretched out.

My own heart started racing in recognition. One of the only signs I knew.

I love you.

I squeezed her, hugging her tighter to let her know I saw it. I felt her tighten her hold on me in response.

We drifted off to sleep in each other's embrace with me being lulled by her heartbeat, knowing that my love loved me back.

(More fics!)

[theymakemegayer]

Reputation: Chapter 2

author’s note: In a few hours we will have another QB update, and I have so many mixed emotions about the next chapter... Here’s something I hope can make you guys feel better.

PLEASE TAG POEPLE WHO WANTS TO READ POPPY X MC FICS. I know today’s update will mess up the tags for Poppy.

TW: for a little cursing, I tried to censored it tho

Chapter 1

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

After parting ways with Zoey, I enter my classroom for my first subject. My eyes scan the vacant seats. I had just put my laptop down when someone spoke behind me.

 "Well, isn't this very exciting. Bea Hughes." Her voice was dripping with sarcasm, turning around I was met with Chloe frowning at me.

 "You've got to be kidding me. You again?"

 "You think I enjoy seeing your face early in the morning? You must be still asleep and dreaming newbie." She crossed her arms in front of her. 

 I laughed humorlessly, "Don't try to be funny."

 Her lips tugged into a smirk, "You know what would be funny right now?"

 I raised my eyebrow, a part of me starting to get nervous. This was definitely bad news. Plastering a smile, she casually dumped her coffee on my laptop. My eyes grew wide. She laughed at my reaction.

 I scowled at her, "What the hell is wrong with you?" 

 A voice interrupted us. "What is going on here?"

 I turned around and my eyes landed on Ina standing at the top aisle, a briefcase in hand. Holy Shi-?

 Chloe smiled at her, "Nothing Professor Kingsley. I'm just helping Bea clean up the coffee she spilled in her laptop. She is so clumsy."

 My mind blacked out for a moment, all I can think about was Chloe calling her Professor. Like falling down on the ground and being slapped by reality, realization hit me.

 "Y-you're my professor?" I managed to voice out.

 Ina cleared her throat then plastered her professional smile. "If you're in my Behavioral Science in practice course then yes." Then she proceed on the podium ready to start the class.

 I sat weakly trying not to look at Ina. I took a couple of breaths calming my racing mind and heart. 

 This should be some kind of joke right? I cast a look at her surprisingly she also looked at me at that moment. I avoided her gaze.  I groaned internally. God this is so awkward and messed up.

 After my grueling and awkward first period I rushed out of the classroom calling Zoey and wanting to meet her in our dorm. 

 I was already in our dorm building when someone called me out.

 "Bea! Wait up!" I turned around and saw this random guy power walking towards me.

 "That clapback against Poppy yesterday was all over my social media. It was epic!" He said once he was in front of me.

 "Oh... thanks?"

 "You don't know how much it means to me that someone is finally standing up towards Poppy. I'm totally on your side."

 "Thanks. I'm happy to stand up too towards people like that."

 He grinned, "I'm Benji by the way. Your residence advisor. If you ever need anything, I'll be here."

 "Thanks Benji, but I need to go already." I glance at my wrist watch.  "I need to meet up with a friend. It was nice meeting you Benji."

 "Sure! it was nice talking to you, Bea." He said waving goodbye to me.

 Once I arrived at our shared dorm memories of my dilemma and stress came back into me in full swing. I was pacing back and fort in our living room area when Zoey arrived.

 "Hey you okay?" She slouched on the couch facing me.

 "Zoey..." I pouted. 

 "What happened? It's sounded like some kind of emergency when you called."

 I sighed and plopped down beside her. "It is." I huffed before telling her what happened.

 "Okay you what now?" She exclaimed looking me dead in the eye.

 "Ina... Professor Kingsley she was the one I met at the speakeasy last night." I groaned hiding my face on my hands.

 "You guys kissed?"

 "We made out to be exact. Thank God you called me last night Zo. I don't know how messed up it will be if I happen to sleep with her." I groaned again. 

 "You sure you don't like her Bea? Almost everyone in Belvoire has a crush on her. And you happen to even made out with her. Heck you were so close with sleeping with her too."

 I groaned removing my hands on my face I looked at her in the eye, "Please don't remind me and Zo having a crush is different with practically making out with her."

 "Oh then let me add that apart from having a crush I'm sure some of the students thirst for her." 

 I sighed, "Well yes Ina is attractive, but knowing that she's my professor. I just can't Zoey. Seeing her a while ago became so awkward to me."

 Zoey wrapped me in her embrace. "Sorry I should have known you're really different from the people around here Bea." 

 "This scholarship I have is really important to me Zo. I can't afford to be this careless and lose this." My voice was muffled in her shoulders.

 She caressed my back soothingly, "I'm sure you won't lose this. Have you talked to Professor Kingsley yet?"

 Sighing I withdrew from our hug, "Not yet. I was so shock seeing her a while ago. I can't talk to her yet nor be left alone with her."

 Zoey frowned, "You seem really stressed about this Bea. Wanna go out again tonight?"

 I raised an eyebrow, "What's on your mind?"

 She grinned, "Let's crush the Alpha House's Welcome Week Bash tonight! It'll help with your ranking, you'll have a good time and maybe will bump into Poppy there and piss her off." 

 The moment she mentioned Poppy, I swear I was already sold to crush this party, but of course I won't admit that to anyone specially not to Zoey. She'll get mad if she knew.

 I beamed, "Okay you had me sold with pissing Poppy off. " A little lie won't hurt right?

 **********************

 We arrived at the party an hour ago. The only 'almost' mishaps we had was getting inside - which was an easy job if you had me and Zoey; with the right charm and words Michael let us in. The music was blasting loudly, the people occupied with different games and drinks, and the frat boys diving once in a while in the jello pool - the party was in full swing.

  "Bea! Bea! Bea! Bea! Bea!" People chanted as I won another game. I grinned at them when a clap suddenly cut through the cheers.

 "How lovely. Luis and his brothers already done with their charity work for this semester. Don't mistake it for kindness Farmsville."

 I turn around at the sound of that voice and came face to face with Poppy. She's with Chloe and I think that was Veronica who was busy with her phone.

 I rolled my eyes, "I was starting to think when you will show up and grace us with your presence, Poppy."

 She rolled her eyes, "I must say hanging out with the boys is definitely a step up from this another nobody." She gestured dismissively towards Zoey without taking her eyes off me. "You know I think we can be friends Farmsville. You clearly learned how to dress up too." Her eyes roamed at me. Oh God. Please this is torture. I tried to school my expression even though my mind was about to explode. Her eyes finally landed on my face a smirk ghosting on her lips. Bea focus.

 "And why would I want to be friends with a bully like you?" I crossed my arms staring at her hard.

 "Because I ran this school. You have two options here, I can make your stay here like a living hell or..." She grinned sweetly, "I can make it heaven. All you have to do is leave the dead weight here." She smirked at Zoey who was glaring at her.

 I frowned not liking how she addressed Zoey, "You know what Poppy? Zoey is better than you in every way." I step closer at her standing in my full height. "If you wanna be friends with me" I smirked, "Here is a little tip." I leaned closer and I swear did her breath hitched?  I whispered, my breath tickling on her ears making sure she was the only one who can hear it, "I just need you to be Poppy, not Poppy Min-Sinclair or any of these masks you wear, just you." I leaned back and plastered my sweet, sweet smile as I watch Poppy's dumbfounded reaction - and something I can't name flickered in her eyes.

 Not even a second passed when she scowled at me, "You wish Farsmville. We ran by my rules not yours."

 I sighed dramatically, "Well it's your lost then." I stepped back and smirked at her. 

 She was about to speak again when Ford interrupted us , "Hold that thought." He ran towards the pool and dived.

 Poppy shrieked darting away from the spraying jello. Carter - which I found out to be Poppy's boyfriend slung his arm around Poppy. "It's just a little jello babe. C'mon let's jump too! It'll be fun." 

 Wriggling free from Carter she glared at him, "Do I look like I am dressed for a swim on that colored sugar?"

 "But -"

 "Hang on!" Luis suddenly interrupted. "Sorry bro. I'm just thinking, Bea seems really cool I bet she'll love to join the fun and swim in the jello pool. What do you think?"

 "I mean, I'm always up for new experiences." I stated with a grin. 

 "See! Come on Bea!" Luis cheered.

 Grinning as an idea popped in my head I yelled, "Poppy hold your breath!" 

 Shocked she spoke, "Why would-"

 But before she can even finished her sentence I was running towards her and pushed her towards the pool. She shrieked, "BEA HUGHES!"

 "Can't let her have all the fun." As I leaped in the jello pool I can hear people cheering, a bubble of happiness surged through me.

 When I finally got up I saw Poppy completely mufunctioning, "There's like jello... in every crevice of my body."

 I inched closer to her, "Was jello pool that bad?" I laughed when she threw me a glare.

 "This is your fault Farmsville." 

 I raised my hands in mock surrender, "Hey I just wanted you to let lose a little." 

 "Stop talking to me." She growled. Oops is she really pissed off now?

 "Cannon ball!" Luis yelled only dressed in his underwear as he dove spluttering more jello towards Poppy and me. 

 Poppy shrieked again. I can hear Chloe desperately saying, "Somebody help her. She has a jello phobia." While Michael laughed, "Nice look Pops! The green really brings out your eyes."

 Poppy screamed finally reaching her limit. Carter finally helped her out of the pool bringing her some towel. 

 "I AM GOING TO KILL YOU ALL." She yelled one last time before sprinting inside, while Chloe and Veronica followed her.

 Feeling a little guilty I decided to get out from the pool to dry myself up. 

 "Bea!" Zoey called out for me. I sat at the edge of the pool and she swam closer to me. She smirked, "Love how you pissed off Poppy."

 I smiled at her trying to bury the feeling of heaviness inside of my chest. "And I love how pretty you look right now." 

 Zoey laughed, "Flutterer."

 At the corner of my eyes I saw Veronica and Chloe entering again. Okay, where's Poppy? It was probably not helping at all that Carter just dove passed us towards the jello pool. Oh damn it.

 "Hey Zoey. I just need a little bathroom break." I stood up carrying the towel with me. "I'll be back." I winked at her before power walking inside the house. 

 I almost gave up on finding where Poppy might be when I stumbled on the garage. She was standing - her back facing me and mumbling to herself. "I hate that Farmsville." She groaned.

 I suppressed my smile before speaking, "Don't you think hate is a strong word to use?" 

 She whipped her head around so fast and threw a glare at me once she saw me. "What are you doing here Farmsville?" She said through gritted teeth.

 "I can be anywhere I want you know. You don't own this." I gesture on the garage where we are.

 "Didn't you pissed me enough today? Do you really want a death sentence so bad?" She glared at me.

 I laughed and raised my hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. I'll stop teasing. I just stumbled here, I swear." 

 She raised an eyebrow, "Then get lost. I don't want to talk nor see your face." 

 I crossed my arms, "What are you even doing here alone though?"

 "I'm waiting for my driver. I'm going home since I feel so grossed out thanks to you. Now will you leave me alone." 

 Instead of following what she said, I stepped closer towards her. 

 "Are you deaf? I said get lost." 

 I lifted my hand holding out the towel I had in me and ignored her as I wiped out some jello remains on her hair. She flinched the first time the towel touched her hair. 

 "Relax. I swear I was just cleaning a jello out of your hair." I mumbled. 

 She remained silent which was surprising, so I look at her and that was when I realized I was standing too close to her. My hand stopped wiping her hair in mid-air and my eyes grew wide at the realization. Poppy was looking at me intently. Her eyes wasn't glaring at me, but it was searching for something in me. I can feel the heat creeping on my cheeks because of the way she looked at me.

 "W-What?" I stuttered stupidly.

 "Why are you doing this Newbie?" She whispered like her question itself was not meant to be heard by anyone, but I heard it - I heard her. The tone of her voice was softer and clearer than her usual tone.

 I gulped, "I'm doing nothing. What do you mean?"

 "You..." She was still looking at me before sighing and averting her eyes from me. "Whatever. Forget I asked anything." 

 She took a step back and turned her back towards me. "Just answer this one thing." 

 "Yeah?" I spoke my voice quivered a little as I fidgeted with the towel in my hands.

 "Did you mean what you said earlier? That tip. You only need me to be Poppy and you will be my friend?"

 I grinned as warmth blossomed in my chest, "Yeah." 

 At that moment Poppy's car arrived.  A man opened the door for her. Before stepping inside Poppy halted like she wanted to say something. She shook her head a little before finally entering the car. What were you gonna say?  I tried to bury that curiosity as I watch her car leave. I finally let out the breath I wasn't aware I was holding back. 

 "Today had been weird." I mumbled as I started walking back inside.

[ghostofnibelheim]

zenos-zos-galvus​:

❝- is that clear?❞ Long had Zenos learned to put up with his father’s tiresome commands, his eyes expressionless on how he felt, as little as they were. The matter at hand was one that brought mild annoyance - it felt like a task that should be done by perhaps one of the other Legatus, or even the soldiers that were paid to do their jobs. The prince was a warrior - a hunter, even if all presenting challenges were left to be desired. Not some babysitter to a strange man his father was rather keen on putting to use after he broke free from some crystalized substance discovered in the other, unknown world of far different resources.

    A soft huff left the princeling, expressing more than he usually would. ❝I fail to see what makes this my issue.❞ That earned him a underlaying growl beneath the emperor’s breath, one that would have given someone else some satisfaction in making Varis zos Galvus become so irritated that it took restraint on his part. It wouldn’t for Zenos. ❝If he is that much of an issue, then be rid of him.❞

❝This man killed many of our people merely from breaking free of his strange crystalized prison - many more are left in a state that borders on brain-dead comatose even while awake. This mako may have uses, yet first we must learn it. To that end, he needs to remain alive while the researchers attempts to figure out what makes him able to resist that same state. He may also be of use for me; it cannot be denied how powerful he is, despite being in a weakened state. If anyone could keep him at bay, I can think of none other.❞

    How flattering. Zenos couldn’t help but wonder if Father was mildly hoping that this stranger would be his own son’s match. Even now while the emperor gazed on him, his golden eyes were little more than glints of cold steel. No warmth had ever been in those eyes any time Varis looked at him - Zenos long ago learned to not expect it nor really cared.

❝As you command, Father.❞

    So there Zenos was, standing in the same holding cell in the research facility as the strange man that fell to slumber right after breaking free for but a moment. Seemed almost a pity that he hadn’t managed to escape if only for his own sake of pride, if there were any resemblance of a man there. Yet if he had, where would he go? Garlemald, the capital of the Garlean Empire, was surrounded by snow & ice, kept at bay outisde the city thanks to their magitek keeping the streets from being frozen over. He were trapped in a world not of his own. Needless to say, the princeling was bored, but he were patient. Mayhap his newfound company would be entertaining upon awakening.

Typically, normal people would be stirred awake by noises. In Sephiroth’s case, it was the silence.

It was the first time he heard silence, in a very long time. After years spent traveling through the Lifestream, in the midst of the voices and memories of countless souls, threatening to consume his essence and dissolve his spirit as one of their own, all that noise had been drowned by peace, and quiet.

It was serene, yet disturbing at the same time. His mind was but an empty shell as mako-green eyes fluttered open. His first attempt to summon any kind of recollection granted him nothing. Even his earlier outbreak from the shell of crystallized mako had been experienced in a state of subconscious wake. This was the very first time, since his demise five years prior, that the man had any perception of himself as a living being. So eerie and disorienting, like being born all over again.

The cold sensation of metal against his skin was the first thing that registered: his torso was bare. Long white hair draped his back, sliding down his shoulders as he gingerly sat up, muscles sore and stiff from the extended time spent in stasis. His body was learning how to function all over, one thing at a time.

He looked vaguely around the cell, without thoughts. He couldn’t tell whether this was a strange place to be in, because he didn’t know where he was supposed to be. Trying to think of where he last remembered being only drew a blank. It’d take time.

The other living being in the room was the other thing he noticed soon after. Everything in here looked the same, walls of metal and artificial light. Only the tall armored man watching him stood out. He looked like he had been waiting. For him?

Instinct had the platinum-haired male frown slightly. There was a faint rise in adrenaline kicking in his mind as he regarded that presence. The same sensation one would have gazing upon an apex predator.

Not exactly fear; it was the tension of confrontation. The moment in which two beasts study each other to determine whether they found food, or a territorial threat. This man had been able to reawaken all this in Sephiroth’s consciousness, like an activated switch.

In turn, he watched him coldly, all his senses soon focused on his figure. A snake coiled to strike.

“A jailer?” He asked, uttering his first words. It had not occurred to him that this room could be a prison before. It was exclusively the other’s threatening presence who made him feel like he was in one.

[golbrocklovely]

give your heart a break // colby brock - chapter seven: the final straw

A/N: holy shit, only one more chapter! sorry this took forever to write, but it’s the kind of chapter you have to be in the right mood to write, ya know? thank you guys for all the love and support on this story. it means so much to me. hope yall are staying safe during this crazy time. alrighty, please enjoy this chapter and lmk what you think. ALSO, listen to this song while reading for extra sadness :)

story description

taglist: @azurebrock , @daddydobrock , @colbyf-ingbrock , @cuddlingwithcolby , @absolute-randomness-forever , @lovelycolby , @codename-nyx , @sweetxplr , @absolutelynobodyposts , @colbysmisdemeanour

trigger warning: ANGST, SADNESS, heartbreak

word count: 1472

~~~~~~~~~~

ten months, two weeks, five days

When I woke up this morning, I could tell something was about to change. A certain thickness hung in the air, like a cloud.

Two months ago, Colby apologized about the night of the party. He told me that he was under a lot of stress, and that he took it out on me when he shouldn't have.

I never admitted to him that I loved him. I've been sitting on this feeling for two months now. It's been eating away at me slowly.

Colby has been pretty busy, him and Sam planning a lot of things for the coming year. These past two weeks, they went and filmed videos in a different state. He texted me every day and tried to call a couple times. I barely answered him.

I couldn't bring myself to hear his voice. I did everything in my power to see if my feelings for him would go away, but they didn't even budge.

He's finally home, and he immediately asked me to come over. A pit in my stomach formed, along with a swarm of butterflies.

I wanted to see him, badly. But... fuck, I didn't want to love him anymore.

This wasn't going to end well.

I knocked on Colby's apartment door three times, hearing a 'come in!' from inside.

I slowly opened the door, my eyes falling on Colby who was sprawled out on the couch. His eyes landed on me, smiling sweetly.

“Hey Zoe. How are you?” Colby asked, sitting up.

I replied, placing my bag down on his kitchen counter. “I'm good. How about you?”

“I'm doing better now since you're here.” He smirked.

“That's sweet of you to say.” I stated, sitting down away from him.

He scooched closer to me. “Uh, you know I tried to call you a couple times while I was gone, but you never really picked up.”

I stared down at the ground. “Yeah. Sorry about that. I've been busy.”

He brought his face close to mine, making me look up at him. “It's no problem. I'm just happy to see you again.”

Colby leaned in slowly, his lips pecking mine softly. I barely kissed him back, but it didn't seem like he noticed.

“I really missed you.” He whispered.

I took a deep breath, standing up and pacing over to his kitchen.

I shouldn’t have come here.

Why did I come here?

All I’m doing is breaking my own heart by being around him.

I need to just tell him how I feel.

But if I do that, all of this will end. I don’t want it to end.

But I can’t keep going on like this.

What if I lose him?

Maybe he does love me back.

No, he doesn’t.

Fuck, I just need to tell him.

No, I can’t.

Yes. I can.

Fuck, don’t fucking spit it out, Zoe!!

“I can't do this anymore.” I uttered suddenly.

Colby turned to me, confused. “Do what?”

I exhaled deeply. “This. Us.”

Colby sat up again, slowly coming to his feet. “What do you mean, Zo? What's wrong?”

“I thought that when you apologized to me two months ago and we both made that promise to take things slow, maybe have some time away from each other, my feelings for you would change. Would go away. But they're not. And I can't pretend they're not real any longer.” I huffed, holding back tears.

“What are you saying, Zoe?” He questioned.

“I'm in love with you, Colby.” I confessed.

Colby stayed silent, his eyes falling away from my gaze.

“I'm in love with you. And I've loved you for a long time. I can't go on doing this and pretending my feelings for you aren't there.” I admitted.

“You weren't supposed to...” His voice trailed off.

I responded. “What? Catch feelings? I know. But, I couldn't help it.”

“How long?” Colby murmured.

“When we fought, two months ago, that's when I admitted it to Sam. But honestly... it was probably before that.” I shrugged, exhausted.

A heavy silence fell over the both of us. I wasn't sure what else I could say to him. I couldn't tell what he was thinking, his face contorted. He obviously wasn't happy about this.

His head popped up, his gaze back on mine. "You don't love me."

“What?” I sputtered.

“You don't love me. You've just grown attached to this... feeling. We fucked up when we went beyond cuddling. Maybe we just need a break from each other to reset ourselves and then we can go back to just doing that.” He nodded his head, a weird smile coming to his face.

“Colby. I'm admitting I love you and you're telling me... I'm not?” I inquired.

He confirmed. “Exactly. We've become so couple-like that you just think you love me.”

“Colby, I do love you.” I emphasized.

He shook his head. “No, you don't. You can't love me. We both promised to not catch feelings.”

“Well, I fucked up that one.” I deadpanned.

He denied. “You don't love me.”

“Colby! Yes I do!” I exclaimed, stepping closer to him.

He shouted. “No you don't!”

I groaned. “Oh my God, Colby! I'm not Sophie!”

Fuck.

“What did you say?” His eyes widen, his voice falling to a whisper.

Goddamnit, Zo!

“I'm... not Sophie.” I choked.

“H-How... do you-” He stammered.

I sighed. “Sam told me about her because you never did.”

His stare hardened, glancing over towards the door. “It wasn't his place to tell you about her. Why the fuck do you want to know about her anyway?”

“Because you are so adamant about not falling in love, I needed to know why. I know she hurt you, and you've been closed off since but-” I tried to explain.

He cut me off. “You don't know anything. You don't know what happened with her.”

I raised my hands. “That's true. I don't know her, or what you went through. But the fact that you can't even say her name means that you're still hurt. But that's okay. I need you to know that I'm not her.”

He rolled his eyes, walking towards his office. “I'm done with this.”

I jumped in front of him. “No, listen to me, Colby! I love you. Full stop. I know you've been hurt before, but I would never hurt you. I care about you so much, and I need you to understand that I'm not pretending to love you. This is a hundred percent real. I love you.”

He shook his head. “I don't feel the same way.”

I ignored the ache that came to my heart. “After almost a whole year of doing this, you don't have a single feeling for me?”

“No. I stuck to my promise.” He jeered.

“…You're lying.” I mumbled.

“How would you know?” He doubted.

“So you mean to tell me that after all the nights we spent together, all the parties we went to, the multiple times we slept together, the amount of times our friends have joked about us being a couple, the fact we literally both agreed to never see anyone else outside of each other, the actual date you took me on... after all that, no feelings.” I questioned; my tongue sharp.

Colby paused, then grunted out. “None.”

“You know what? Since you're so fucking adamant about us not being a thing, fine then. We're done.” I snapped.

I turned away from Colby, silent tears falling from my eyes. I could hear my heart pound in my ears, my face hot with anger and sadness. I grabbed my purse and headed towards the door.

His voice spoke suddenly. “It's better this way. We took this too far.”

I stopped dead in my tracks. I spun back around and walked back over to Colby.

“Cole, I want you to be honest with me. If you can look me in the eyes and tell me there is nothing there, I'll go. I'll act like none of this friends-with-benefits thing happened. We can go back to being actual friends with no benefits. But if you feel something for me and you're not giving it a shot because you don't want to get hurt, just know you're hurting me. And we will never be the same after this.” I pled, not being able to hold back any more tears.

Colby’s eyes landed on mine; a glossiness covered them. His voice, shaking.

“I don't love you, Zoe.”

I exhaled, my heart shattering. I bit my lip, my eyes falling away from his gaze. I nodded, and slowly walked back towards his front door.

I croaked, finally looking back at him. “I always liked your honesty, Cole.”

He stared back at me, his body tense.

“Too bad you suck at lying.” I shook my head, stepping out and slamming his door.

<< CHAPTER 6 || FINALE >>

[aliceslantern]

Heartlines, a Kingdom Hearts fanfic, chapter 9--New Friends, Old Enemy

Twelve years ago, Xemnas betrayed the royal court of Radiant Garden to his father, Xehanort. Prince Ienzo flees to another city and begins university in the aftermath, hoping the anonymity will protect him from eager eyes with ill intent. The darkness spilling across the country, as well as an individual from his past, cut short Ienzo's new beginning and bring new conflicts to light. Strained between the desires of his magic and his heart, Ienzo's choice will change him forever.

Modern Fantasy AU, Soulmates, Zemyx. Updates Fridays until it's done.

Chapter summary:  Ienzo goes out with Demyx and his friends, only to run into an old adversary.

Read it on FF.net/on AO3

---

As Ienzo went home, he marveled over the strangeness he felt. His senses still were raw, almost painfully so; the noise of the crowded streetcar gave him a headache. He wondered if he were somewhat in shock. He didn’t believe in virginity, but this was definitely a life-before and a life-after situation. Then again, it had been ever since he’d met Demyx here.

He went home. It was still a decent hour, so Even did not accost him as he was wont to do. He showered and noted that beneath his sweater Demyx had left him with some decently-violet hickies. Ienzo sighed and healed them away. He did some homework, some light reading of his own. When he finally slept, it was like the dead.

Ienzo dreamt.

He dreamt of water and drowning and the feeling of being saved. He dreamt of his father and Braig and Even, of bittersweet memories before he knew they were bittersweet. Despite it all… Ienzo missed them.

When he woke, he blinked the requisite tears out of his eyes. Demyx had texted him a few times.

Good morning [eyes emoji] happy Friday. Say, a bunch of us were going to go out later, want to come?

He smiled a little. I would, but I’m only twenty.

No need to worry. Drinking age here is only 18. You’re not getting out of this one. [wink] Besides, what if I want to show you off?

What is there to show off?

Har har. Anyway, you in?

He wondered if Even would be pleased he had made friends, or worried for his safety if alcohol was involved. And crowds… he felt a surge of nerves despite himself. I’ll try. Why not? The alternative was spending another evening reading by himself, alone. Demyx would magically protect him, and he could handle the rest.

Ienzo got ready for his day and went to get some breakfast. “You’re alright?” Even asked.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

He shook his head a little. He looked somewhat frazzled; his hair was unbrushed, his shirt wrinkled. “I suppose you’re right. I… you ran out the other night, child. We haven’t spoken since.”

“You were never one for small talk,” Ienzo muttered, pouring himself some coffee. “If you must know. I’m angry. What else are you keeping from me, Even?”

He leaned against the counter. “Nothing of any significance. That was… it.”

“When were you going to tell me?”

“I was going to wait until you were fully of age. Fate had other plans.”

“What would you have done if we had run into him before?”

He shut his eyes for a moment. “Eaten my share of crow.”

Ienzo looked into his bowl of cereal. “When will you realize I’m not a child?”

Even reached over and took his hand; the touch startled him. “You are… right . But I’ve… we’ve been doing this for so long. I’ve seen you grow up, raised you, and yet… I worry for you, Ienzo. This is a tempestuous world enough to be in even were you not… a prince. I wanted you to have a good life… but when that was not possible, keeping you alive was good enough.”

“But you understand why I am so frustrated? You wax poetic about my brilliance, yet you will hardly let me make my own decisions… limited as they are.”

“I… understand.”

“I hope you do.” He exhaled. “I will be going out with friends this evening. Just so you know.”

Ienzo could see the amount of restraint it took for Even to merely say, “Alright. He will be with you… the boy?”

“Yes.”

“I… see. How do you feel about that?”

Ienzo dropped his eyes. He hoped Even didn’t have some way to sense what had happened between them yesterday. “It is very strange,” he admitted. “We’re strangers… yet I feel so compelled. On the one hand, I wished we could’ve met organically. On the other… the magic tells me this is right, so who am I if I do not listen to it? I feel… safe. Which I suppose is the point.”

“Let me meet him,” Even said. “All this time… and I’ve no idea who he is.”

“Perhaps after tonight.”

“Right. I see.” Even leaned against one palm.

“Are you alright? When was the last time you left this house?”

“There are… affairs I am dealing with,” Even said. “Nothing to worry about.” Off Ienzo’s expression, “I will tell you if there’s anything of major import.”

“Please get some sleep… and some fresh air,” Ienzo said. “You can’t fret over me if you’re unwell yourself.”

A small smile. “Very well, Ienzo.”

After this, class was uneventful. Ienzo was amazed at how little effort it took for him to get an excellent grade. He desired more of a challenge. This wasn’t one of the days where he had Demyx’s class, so he merely kept himself occupied until the morning was over.

Waiting for him outside of the lecture hall was Riku, of all people. Ienzo frowned. “Have you been following me?”

“I asked for your schedule from Demyx. He’s been moping around like a lovesick puppy.” He ruffled his long silver hair. “Hungry?”

They got sandwiches and sat in a small booth in one of the campus eateries. “You do strike me as a motley pair,” Ienzo admitted.

“So do you,” Riku pointed out. “Soulmate bullshit, right?”

Ienzo tensed.

“It’s alright. I’m muffling what we’re saying.”

He sighed. “...Quite,” he said. “It’s been… odd, to say the least.”

“I bet.”

There was a moment of silence. Riku crossed his arms. Finally, Ienzo said quietly, “I plan on going to the resistance myself. I have… a contact. If you wish to go with me, that’s your choice.”

A wry smile. “That’s what I’m talking about.”

“Who are you, Riku?”

“A person of no importance. Not really. I was just lucky enough to end up with the genes that caused this .” He touched a strand of his hair.

Ienzo blinked. A magic user born to non-magic parents was very rare indeed; the other way around was much more common. He chuckled a little. “Lucky.”

“...Besides. Demyx was taken in by my aunt. It’s kind of… personal.”

“You’re family? That’s not what he told me.”

Riku shrugged. “There was a falling out between our parents a few years ago. And we were never close. But we… have to stick together. He acts like camouflage.”

“...Yes.” He swallowed. “Did he tell you… who bound us? And who I am?”

“...I have my suspicions,” Riku admitted. “You’re powerful, and if you were bound you have to be important.” He waved a hand vaguely. “But I can also see that you don’t trust me, and I can’t blame you for that.”

Ienzo nodded slowly.

“Look, I may come off as… ambivalent, towards Demyx, but if he ends up hurt--”

Ienzo locked eyes with him. “I do not want that either.”

Riku bobbed his head once. “Is it weird? Falling in love instantly?”

“I suppose I wouldn’t know the difference,” Ienzo admitted. “But yes, it is strange. On one level we are strangers. On another… we’re not. I could not tell you his favorite color, or his ambitions, or his philosophy on life… yet I feel as though I do know him. It’s all… very aqueous.”

Riku laughed a little; it had almost no sound to it. “It’s a trip and a half. You know, I… helped him find out who he is.”

“You mean that he’s a seeker?”

“We were both kind of going through it. The second I hit puberty I was bleeding magic and attracting bad guys, and when we were together, it… stopped. So we did our own research.”

“I presume it wasn’t that easy.”

“Well no, of course not. We ended up breaking into the mayor’s library--that’s a story for another day. Ever since the seekers were hunted… it was all hush-hush, like they never were in the first place.”

“Oh, propaganda. I know it well.” He stabbed the last few remaining leaves of his salad absently. “Believe me.”

Riku’s lip quirked. “I can’t just lay back anymore and let this happen.”

“Me, either. Besides, I think the resistance can take as many warm bodies as are willing.”

“Then it’s a good thing I know a few people.” A mischievous smile.

“...Oh?”

“Let’s just say you’ll meet them tonight.” He picked up his empty clamshell container. “Be seeing you. Though I gotta say--you don’t seem the clubbing type.”

Ienzo thought the same, but he added, “I’m full of surprises.”

“I’m sure you are,” Riku said, without turning back, and Ienzo felt the ward he’d put dissipating, sound returning to normal volume.

---

Later that evening, Ienzo got ready. He’d been told by Demyx that they were going to a blacklight party at the local club--aptly titled Seventh Heaven--and bright colors or white would work best. He thought he would feel more nervous, but knowing Demyx would be there soothed him. Surprising--yet not--how quickly he’d become accustomed to their link. He chose a white pullover. As he picked up yesterday’s pants to throw in the hamper, the pendant thumped loudly onto the floor. He took it into his hand.

At this point there was no denying it.

It was small, but felt weighty around his throat. It had a chain, and a clasp, unlike Demyx’s, perhaps put there after the fact. Twine was not fit for a prince. Ienzo tucked it into his shirt, and stared at it for a moment, trying to see if it were visible from the outside.

He took the streetcar over to Demyx’s, where they were going to “pregame”. Ienzo did not intend on drinking much, if at all; he’d never had much of a taste for it, whenever Even allowed him to have wine with dinner. But partying like this was supposedly normal.

The door was open before he could even knock. “Zo! Hey!” A set of string lights had been hung, and some pop music played idly. Demyx leaned in to kiss him once on the lips. He was wearing a bright green T-shirt that physically hurt to look at.

“Oh, that is lurid ,” Ienzo muttered.

“Ugh, Riku said the same thing.” He pulled at the hem. “Should I change?”

“Do you have anything a little less obnoxious?”

“That is a… good question. Help me pick?”

Ienzo could do little more than wave at the other people in the apartment before he was led back. But Demyx didn’t do anything other than open his dresser and start pulling out shirts. In the weeks Ienzo had known him, he hadn’t really worn anything out of the ordinary--plaid, simple graphic Ts, jeans. But these shirts were a little more… extravagant; Hawaiian prints, checkers, all sorts of colors, a button-down with pineapples. “Were you being conservative for little old me?” he asked innocently.

Demyx flushed. “Hey! I’m a TA, I have to look the part!”

“With that hair?”

He laughed. “Quit razzing me.”

Ienzo smirked. He realized they’d never actually gotten a chance to flirt; it felt good. “If you’re going for color, I’d say that one.” He gestured to the pineapple shirt.

Quite unembarrassed, Demyx pulled off the shirt he was wearing. Ienzo realized he hadn’t actually gotten a good look at him before; he felt the blood rush to his face. “Ta da,” Demyx said, with a flourish.

“Yellow is a good color on you,” Ienzo said lamely.

“Yeah, I’ve been told.” Demyx turned to the mirror and gave his hair one more fluff. “Alright. Let’s have some drinks. But first--”

Ienzo leaned in to kiss him; for a moment they were lost in each other before he found the willpower to pull away. “I’d hate for people to get the wrong impression of me,” he said. “Right. Let’s get drunk.”

“Now we’re talking!”

The people in the apartment’s small living room were more or less the same ones Ienzo had met that afternoon at lunch; along with two others, a boy and girl he did not recognize. The girl leapt up. She was petite, thin, her red hair curled around her small face. “You must be Ienzo,” she said. “Hi. I’m Kairi. This is my boyfriend Sora.” They both had painfully blue eyes, such a distinct blue that Ienzo felt a spark of recognition. Not of either of them, but of what that color meant. He smiled pleasantly, shook their hands. He locked eyes with Riku, preparing a drink on the counter; the man nodded once. “I love your hair,” she added, as if this were not hint enough.

“I know, right?” Yuffie said cheerfully. “He says it was an accident, but come on.” To his shock, she came up and lifted a strand of his bangs. “ Look at this.”

“Please do not touch me,” Ienzo said.

She stuck her tongue out. “Alright, relax.”

“Ienzo. You having?” Riku asked, gesturing to the concoction he was mixing.

He exhaled. Maybe it would be good to lose some of this edge. “Please.”

He found himself getting pleasantly buzzed with them. He’d never had hard alcohol before, and to his surprise he found he liked the harsh taste of it. It did strange things to his magic, which Demyx was thankfully able to pacify; Ienzo felt as though the world were quite loud. He was on the verge of peeking into everyone’s thoughts. He decided he would pry more about Sora and Kairi’s origins when he was sober again, and instead found himself chatting.  Ienzo was surprised at the amount of words he was holding in, his intense and unrealized desire for human contact. Around ten, they headed out to the club.

Demyx slid an arm around his waist. “You okay?” he asked, whisper close. “I know this is all new to you.”

“Oh--yes,” Ienzo said. Everything was a bit distant, a bit foggy, a bit heavy , and he realized that “I think I may be drunk.”

Demyx smiled. “I think so too. But do you feel… okay? Would you rather go back?”

Ienzo considered. He squinted. “I feel good,” he said, barely conscious of the words.

"Good. That's what matters." There was already a line of partygoers waiting outside, but they were waived in by the bouncer. "Riku knows the bartender," Demyx explained.

"Riku is awfully well connected."

"He makes it work."

Inside, the blacklights made everything glow. Demyx touched Ienzo's hair. "It's just the UV," Ienzo said. "You have it too."

The music was loud, almost painfully so, playing some kind of techno. The others sought out drinks, but Demyx took Ienzo and led him to the dance floor.

"I don't dance," Ienzo said quickly.

"Come on, Zo. Try for me?"

And it was definitely the alcohol, but he said, "alright."

How odd this all was.

It took him a few minutes to fully succumb to the music, but it helped to have Demyx's hands on his waist. He found he was having fun , drunk in this place with awful music and glowing people. Ienzo pulled him into a kiss, one that tasted like the whiskey gingers they'd had, and for a moment everything seemed to stop. Too soon, Demyx pulled away. "I like your style, but we are in public," he said into Ienzo's ear.

They kept dancing for what seemed to be a long time, until Ienzo was gasping for breath and sweaty and laughing. He felt like he'd never had fun before, not like this. Maybe he was a clubbing person. "I'm so thirsty," he said. "Let's get another drink." They waded over to the bar. Blurrily, he saw that according to the clock it was midnight. "The witching hour."

Demyx pecked his cheek. "Water, for you, before you drink more."

Ienzo took it without complaint, even though it tasted vaguely of chlorine.

"New… friend, of yours, Demyx?" The bartender asked. He had a shorn blond scalp and a goatee, and a strange accent.

"Oh! Right. Luxord, this is my boyfriend, Ienzo. Ienzo, Luxord."

"This is the friend of Riku's?" Ienzo asked.

"Correct." With an impeccably graceful motion, he poured out two drinks which only glowed further under the light. When Ienzo reached for his wallet, he just said, "on the house. Don't worry about it." With a wink.

Ienzo did not know what to read into this gesture--was it friendliness, flirting, or something else? But the thought was shaken quickly. The drink was delicious--sweet and tart, yet bringing out the flavor of whatever alcohol was in it. Moreover, it was strong enough to make Ienzo shudder, and he wondered if he should sober himself with his power.

Demyx made a face. "Yeah, I should've warned you. Luxord's drinks can knock you flat."

Already Ienzo felt things getting less distinct, and he couldn't finish it. Instead, he asked for more water. They returned to the dance floor, finding Riku and the others at last; Lea and Roxas were jokingly engaged in some sort of tango, and Riku had Sora in his arms like he had no care in the world. Kairi did not seem to care; in fact, she was smiling. When she saw Ienzo, she offered her hands. "Dance with me?"

He looked towards Demyx, who just shrugged. So he took her hands. It was very clearly platonic. "So the three of you are a thing, then?" He asked, drunk enough to lose tact.

"Oh, yeah. I thought you knew that." They swayed together for a moment. "Demyx has been so happy since he met you."

Because it was magically predetermined, Ienzo nearly said. "Oh?"

An eager nod. "He was always, like, complaining nothing he ever had was genuine." She smiled, the light doing weird things to her teeth. "I'm so glad to see you again, Ienzo. You have no idea."

Ienzo felt dizzy. "...Again?"

She leaned in a little. "Oh, come on. I know you were just pretending to meet me at the apartment, for the others' sake." Then, at his baffled expression. "You do remember, don't you?"

The dizziness was worsening. Through his drunk haze, he thought he did, when she was smaller, just a girl--for some reason, Ienzo looked up into the crowd, and saw a man with distinctly blue hair darting out one of the exits. "Excuse me," he said, and left her without a word. He pushed through the throng of dancers, his anxiety inflating unchecked, making it at last. But when he faced the open courtyard, all he saw were ordinary people, smoking and talking where it was quieter.

"Hey! Zo, what's up?" Demyx was breathless.

"I saw him," Ienzo murmured.

"Saw who? "

"He was here, I swear."

Demyx put a hand on his shoulder. "I think you just drank a little too much. Why don't you sit down?"

He was nauseous now. "I think instead I… need a restroom."

"There's one right over there." Demyx gestured to a door at the corner of the courtyard. "I'll wait right here."

Thankfully, there was no line, and though he felt horrible doing so, he crouched on the dirty floor and threw up. He took a deep breath, pulled at his magic, and made himself sick again, all his drunkenness washing away. Suddenly sober, this whole experience was much less appealing.

He was positive he'd seen Saïx. How had the man found him? Ienzo splashed water on his face. Even with Demyx's protection? Had the man's enhancements allowed him to poke through that? Else one of Demyx's friends or anyone at the university had figured it out--

A knock at the door. "I gotta pee," someone slurred.

"Just a moment." He splashed cold water on his face, masked his glowing hair with an illusion. He walked back to Demyx wearily.

"You alright?" He asked. Ienzo could see now that he was wrecked.

"Got a bit overheated," he said. "I know it isn't that late… but can we go home?"

Demyx blinked disjointedly. "Too late for you to go home on your own," he mumbled. "Stay over."

He had a point--if Saïx were around, heading their separate ways was a bad idea. "...Alright."

After the heat of the club, the streets were mercifully cool. They took one of the last streetcars of the evening back towards Demyx's apartment; blearily, Demyx gave him the keys, too drunk to do it himself. Ienzo eased him into his bed; he fell asleep instantly. Ienzo slid off his sweaty clothing, and pulled on one of Demyx's shirts--he doubted he would care. Besides, his scent helped ease the fear that had overtaken him. He lay down on the double bed; Demyx mumbled something incoherent and looped an arm around his waist, pulling him close.

Between Demyx and his own exhaustion, Ienzo was surprised to find himself drifting off.

[bigskydreaming]

Scoooooooore! LOL gotta love that wayback machine. Anyone remember me talking once about this series I did back in the Dark Angel fandom, one-shots of varying length focused around Max’s family who we never really saw much of in the show? So ever since then I’ve been trying to find them anywhere, since it was before Ao3, I didn’t use ff.net for that fandom, and all the fic sites and archives that were DA specific are pretty much dead and gone-zo nowadays.....but I kept coming up empty, mostly because my dumb ass wasn’t remembering my own titles correctly. So then I started searching by plugging in actual lines I could remember from the fics themselves, and that worked, and quick question self, but explain to me how it is you can remember LINES you wrote in individual fics almost a decade and a half ago, more clearly than you can remember the freaking titles of those fics themselves?

Ah, me.

Course, I still only found half of them, but that half includes most of the ones I really like best, and of the ones still lost the only one I’m really bummed about and still trying hard to find is “Little Lightning Girl,” aka Jondy’s story.

Its always a trip reading really old stuff of yours though. I’m surprised, like, there’s stuff I’ve written from around this same time, both fanfic and original, where I’m just like YIKES, no, hard pass, we’re just gonna pretend this wasn’t a thing....but most of these hold up surprisingly well? I’m pleasantly pleased? Chuffed, almost? 

Zane’s “Zen and the Art of Not Breaking Your Customer’s Fucking Face (remember: its bad for business)” is a definite keeper, heh, I amuse myself tremendously sometimes. 

Zack’s “Rules for When the Sky is Falling (plus side: this time its not your fault)” is a little weak in spots, like there’s stuff that in hindsight I could see easily strengthening the arc in that one but I’m wondering how much of that has to do with changing/evolving views on character types in general....just because Zack was never a fave of mine back when I was watching then, but falls into a character type I have a lot more appreciation and empathy for now, and that definitely would have led me to write his story differently now than I did then. 

Ben’s “They Keep Calling Me Crazy (I say: its the world that’s gone mad)” is kinda the complete reverse.....Ben falls into a character type I have soooooo much less patience for nowadays than I did back then, mostly because of well. The over-glorification of such characters and me being like okay but what about yawn though. Reading his took me back more fully to that mindset than I’ve managed in years though, so it didn’t annoy me as much as I thought it would lmfao.

Tinga’s “A Storybook Kind of Princess (a Grimm kind of happily ever after)” is as weird to me now as it was back then. Easily one of the most experimental “I have no idea what I’m actually aiming for here, just go with it” fics I’ve ever written, and apparently fifteen years later, I STILL can’t decide if I think it worked and I actually like how it came out or not. Hahaha, what is decisiveness though, other than a myth and hashtag Fake News.

Kavi’s “I Never Learned How To Play Ball (striking out comes naturally)” is still one of the weakest of the series, that hasn’t changed.....I didn’t have a really clear idea what I wanted to do with him or where I wanted to take that and that unfortunately kinda shows and the re-reading didn’t really spark anything in terms of what I would definitely have done differently if writing it now.

Vada’s “Chase Me To The Desert, Watch Me Live, I Bet I’ll Thrive (you better believe: I was born to survive)” is the complete opposite, because its another one of those very experimental pieces where I was totally winging it because we knew next to nothing about Vada in the series and I totally just pulled everything about her character and an entire storyline for her completely out of my ass and said sure, why not go with this, but surprisingly it worked I think, and it feels disconnected enough from the rest but standing alone well enough on its own that I can probably do something original with it, as I actually really like the voice I came up with for her.

Eva’s “Big Sisters Know Best (so when I say I’ll die for you: just say thank you and never look back)” I’m actually damn proud of, because its always fun when you successfully sucker punch yourself, let alone with a plot twist you don’t see coming on the reread even though you came up with it in the first place, lmfaaaaaao, and you’re like well hot damn, I do NOT remember doing that but guess I did, wow, go me.

But the big winner for me was Syl’s “The Kind of Girl You Bring Home To Meet Your Parents (when you’ve got the kind of parents that need killing).” That was always a fave, and I’m super stoked it held up as well as it did, cuz I’d hoped it would but wasn’t sure if I was just remembering it through nostalgia-colored glasses and it hadn’t actually been all that great. 

(One of the three longest ones in that series, it was a one-shot a whopping 30K in length, in which Syl wants to hijack the local mob’s operations in order to gain access to a Manticore facility in the same city so she can blow it to kingdom come, because Syl’s a little bit crazy in that ‘I know I’ve got issues and I’m totes fine with them, especially as long as I’ve got my trusty grenade launcher’ kinda way....and so to accomplish her goals, she seduces the son of the local mob boss in order to get close to his father and the inner workings of the mob. Only she eventually realizes this kid is a fucking innocent in every sense of the word, wants nothing to do with his family or their business, hates his dad, who’s abusive as hell, and once Syl concludes what she came there to do and has everything she needs, she’s halfway out the door - well, window, technically - before she stops and groans and bangs her head softly against the wall cuz she’s like, uggggh fuck, he’s totally gonna get blamed for this and his dad’s probably gonna kill him and my Jiminy Cricket’s gonna be a fucking BITCH about it forever, so, well, looks like I don’t have a choice, guess I gotta murder his dad and overthrow the mob so he can skedaddle and live a quiet life on a farm in Bumfuck, Whereverville, god, I so did not need this tonight, thanks a lot conscience, like DID I FUCKING ASK, UMM NOO?)

So like, I think that one’s got definite potential to do something else with, possibly turn into an original project, lol.

Anyway, randomness is random, but yay Wayback machine! Still kinda bummed that I could only seem to find half of them, you’d think that’d be enough to make it easy to find the other seven but nope, apparently not. Its really only Jondy’s fic that I still really want to track down though, the other six I could live without. Okay, I kinda want to reread Brin’s and see how that one holds up too. Okay and Jace’s so never mind, scratch that, still wanna find all the other seven, lmao. (I did NOT make it easy to keep track of anywhere I was or anything I was doing fifteen years ago. The mutuals on here who knew me all the way back then can attest to that, lol. Ah me, part two).

[dregstrash]

jealousy, that thing with claws (pt.7)

A/N: Here it is folks the last chapter!! I’m sorry it took so long for this to get out into the world. I can’t begin to describe how thankful I am for all of you who have read this. I wasn’t expecting so many people to want this story, and was so pleasantly surprised when it became a reality. Thank you for showing Petya love, and for always supporting my writing! So, without further ado, hope everyone enjoys!!

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 ||

Also now on Ao3!

Tagging: @kestrel-of-herran @ipizzippy @stormwitch-privateer @queenghafa @ysitsohardtofindaname @shadowylighting @alittlelark @privateerrezni @terrywho-cartoons

-

Nikolai was going to kill Zoya. This time she went too far, and now his ass hurts as his horse raced through the battle torn field.

He would have let her go-- if she had asked him. Not that she needed his permission to do anything, but if she had asked or at least let him know he would have sent troops with her. He would have assigned some Grisha out of their guard duties to accompany her. But no. She heard the news that the the Fjerdans had started a skirmish in Petya’s hometown and she had left in the dead of night.

No word. No message. Just an empty room when Nikolai came to her door to ask if she was alright with the news.

His stomach had dropped to his feet when he had first realized where she had gone. For one second, all the hope that Petya had given him that there might be the slimmest of chances that Zoya and him could be something more substantial disappeared. But that disheartening possibility was quickly replaced with bone chilling worry. 

As Nikolai rushed to get supplies together for his reckless solo journey, images of Zoya being struck down by a Fjerdan hand or fighting a mass of enemies by herself kept blocking his vision. And no assurances that she was going to be fine would calm his racing heart.

It was more than half a day’s ride to Petya’s home town, but by the fifth hour of his pace, Nikolai began to hear the sounds of a raging battle and he felt what little breath he had leave his lungs as his horse crested the hill and the battle worn land assaulted his eyes.

The city was being sieged and bodies were littered on both sides. Nikolai’s mind tunneled down to where most of the battle was taking place, and he didn’t think he could have been any happier to see a small tornado ripping through the Fjerdans line of defense.

He nudged his already tired horse down and drew his pistol from his side. 

-

All in all it took him about fifteen minutes to finally cut his way through where Zoya and Petya were. But it felt like years had passed. 

Nikolai’s horse was unfortunately struck down by a Fjerdan gun, and he very happily reciprocated the kindness to the shooter. Then there was the brief scuffle he faced with three other Fjerdan soldiers that left him with no more than a bruised side and maybe a fracture to one of his fingers. That didn’t matter, though, what mattered that his adrenaline was up, his heart was beating, and that Zoya had the most amusing look of surprise on her face.

“What in all the saints are you doing here?” She cried. 

Before Nikolai could answer a round of shots from the other side had sounded off, and on instinct Nikolai ducked towards Zoya, covering her in the circle of his arms. The shots stopped for a half a second, and without thinking, both of them had shot up from their cover and delivered an attack of their own. The soldiers who were still standing fired at will, and Zoya releasing a tidal wave to the offending line. 

Nikolai took the time to really look at the other side of the battlefield and cursed as he spotted the tank that Brekker had told him about last time they had a civil conversation. 

He scanned the faces of the men and women soldier around him.

“Xander, Kuwei,” Nikolai bellowed, the two Grisha startled at the sound of their names but didn’t hesitate to approach him. “You need to stop that tank before the Fjerdans decide they need to use it. Take three more foot soldiers with you for cover. GO!” 

There was no time to have second thoughts. The two went off, and Nikolai turned back to Zoya, only to find her struggling over an unconscious man, leaving her guard completely open.

“Zoya!” Nikolai yelled as he spied an enemy soldier sneaking up behind her. 

She didn’t turn around fast enough and before anything happened, Nikolai soundly put a bullet through his skull. 

“I don’t need your help!” She yelled at him, even as she struggled to pull the man up with her.

“Obviously you--” Nikolai’s retort died on his lips as soon as he recognized the figure in her arms. 

It was Petya. He was covered in dirt, and his shirt had been torn bloody. His left arm was mangled, and from what Nikolai could see, his chest was hardly moving.

“What happened?” Nikolai came up on Petya’s other side and helped Zoya get him into more cover. 

“Those feral ice beasts had thrown a grenade right at this house that hadn’t been cleared yet. Petya had gotten the little girl out, but not before it went off and this fucking house landed on top of him. We need to get him to the Medik on the other side of the village.” Zoya said frantically.

The regular stab of jealousy that Nikolai was oddly getting used to took another hit on his heart, but this was neither the time nor place. Petya was injured. Zoya cared enough about him to risk her own bloody life for him. And if saving this man was what it took for Zoya to be happy, then so be it. 

“Zo, you’re not going to be able to make it all the way to the Medik tent. And someone needs to stay here to organize this chaos.” Nikolai said grunting as Petya’s weight shifted more to his side. “I’ll take Petya. We need to end this fight here and now before other villages get the wrong end of a tank in their face.”

Zoya met Nikolai’s gaze over Petya’s unconscious head, and despite the war that was raging around them, he had to pause. He just needed one more moment to drink in the intensity of her blue-heated gaze, the righteous fury that always burned so brightly, the sharp lines her face made when she was about to do something dangerous. It was a look he loved-- would always love. 

And this might be the last time that this look would be directed towards him.

An explosion sounded off to the west side of the battlefield and reality came crashing back in. 

Nikolai forcibly took Petya away from Zoya, and grunted as he deadman-lifted his friend. 

“I’ll see you again, Nikolai.” Zoya said simply. A state of truth that wasn’t to be contested.

His tired muscles were beginning to fully take in Petya’s weight, but even so, he managed a weak smile and said, “I’ll hold you to that, Nazyalensky.”

-

The moon was full tonight. A good sign for the future, Nikolai hoped, because after today, he could use a good sign or maybe twenty more.

Thankfully, Xander and Kuwei were able to stop the tank before anything happened, but not before Xander suffered a nasty blow to the head. Nikolai didn’t think Kuwei had it in him, but he managed to drag Xander all the way back to the Medik and hasn’t left his side since.

The boy had potential, and maybe it was time Nikolai started paying attention to that.

Once the tank was safely dispatched, it was almost clockwork the way his soldiers were able to beat the Fjerdans back to a retreat. Nikolai wasn’t able to get to the front lines once he saw the utter chaos the village had been under. No one had really taken charge of keeping supplies safe or which injured gets the most attention. His soldiers were off on patrols, and it seemed like the most natural thing in the world for him to bring order to the frantic chaos. 

He had left Petya in the care of one of the better Corporalkis, and had thrown himself to work. He needed to do something. He couldn’t sit beside an unconscious man, letting thoughts of Zoya drive him insane.

So he organized supplies, assured the citizens of the village, helped with making more defense measures around the safe haven his soldiers had managed to carve out in the midst of the attack. He did everything he could until there was nothing left to do, and he looked up to see that night had fallen. 

Exhaustion was deep in his bones. He could feel it settled and coat his muscles, but sleep was the last thing on his mind. 

“You never answered my question.” Her voice came out of the shadow of trees, and he didn’t bother turning around to meet her. 

He just kept staring up at the moon, and focused on the hard bark biting into his back. 

But Zoya was never one to be ignored so she stood right in front of him, forcing him to look up and see her dark hair silhouetted by the moonlight, casting her face in an ethereal glow.

“You’re going to have to specify, my dear Nazyalensky.” Nikolai sighed, “If the question is how one can look so good sitting in the moonlight, I won’t have any answers for you. One can only--”

“I asked you what you were doing here.” She said irritably. “A small village battle is hardly any notice for a king.”

“And I’d argue that it’s no place for a general either, but I’m a much smarter man to really contest anything you say.” Nikolai smirked, hoping against all hopes that she’d leave him alone. 

It hurt having her glaring at him like that. It hurt that despite everything, there was still this niggling doubt that she’d still choose someone else, and that he’d have to be okay with that.

“You shouldn’t be here, Nikolai.” 

“Well, it seemed like everyone was was doing reckless things for people they care about and I refuse to not be on trend. I’m king after all. It should be setting those kinds of precedence.” 

“I’m being serious.”

“So am I.”

Zoya huffed in exasperation, and finally dropped to sit in front of him. 

“Petya needed my help.” 

“Clearly.”

“His village was going to be destroyed if it wasn’t for me.”

“I’m sure they’ll erect a statue in your honor.”

“You would have done the same for a friend.”

Whatever snarky reply was sitting on Nikolai’s tongue evaporated, as the word friend rang in between them.

It was such a simple word-- an overused one if he was honest, but with one word the dark cloud that was pressing against his chest began to lift.

“A friend?” He said slowly. He watched Zoya’s face carefully, desperately trying to read her face for any hint to the thoughts that were going on in her mind. 

“A friend.” She shrugged, “I’m assuming you know what those are.” 

“I do. Because that’s what we are, unless those hours of you calling me an idiot were telling me something else.” 

All of Nikolai’s unspoken sentiments were hanging in the air. His questions, his doubts, his feelings were an undercurrent to the calm waves of his tone, and he’d never admit himself to be cowardly. But in this moment, with Zoya looking at him curiously, he couldn’t make his mouth form what he really wanted to say. For once, he was speechless, and he was in the complete mercy of Zoya who was looking at him oddly.

“I--” Zoya started, but quickly groaned in frustration. Nikolai started to smirk, he almost started to say he’d wait all night for her response, instead the next thing he knew Zoya’s mouth was pressed against his and her hands were clutching to the front of his dirtied shirt pulling him closer.

He wrapped his arms around her, tilting his head a little more to get a better angle, and he’d gladly fight another ten Fjderan soldiers if that’s what it took for Zoya to make that small moan that she gave when he had started nibbling on her lower lip. 

“You’re still an idiot, Nikolai.” Zoya said as she rested her forehead against his, “But for some reason that’s supposed to be endearing to me.”

Nikolai laughed slightly and then brought their lips back together. He still didn’t know what this thing between them was, or what this kiss could mean, but he did know that this was a start--it was a beginning, and that was enough.

[infinitehours]

From Dusk to Dawn, an Elder Scrolls Online short fic

Rivenspire spoilers and Daggerfall Covenant questline spoilers (specifically Stormhaven and main quest).  I did like the ideas behind the Rivenspire storyline, even if I did not always like the execution.  Author notes are first, then the story.  Leave a comment or reblog if you enjoyed! 

Author notes before the story:  I’m actually not done with this story.  It’s still got another part to it that I just haven’t had the inspiration to write yet.  

This is my character Elyssa.  She's the youngest of my line-up *(only 18), and that distinction is important.  Naive and more than a little too trusting. She's also probably the only one who would purposely go out of her way just to coax a bunch of vampires into letting her stay the night, if only for the "coolness" factor of getting to stay the night at a vampire castle.

Once upon a time, I had plot bunny idea of a conversation concerning my traumatized Vestige about Molag Bal. I say traumatized because...let's be honest here.  The amount of stuff the Vestige goes through is alarmingly dark at times. It wasn't until I got to Rivenspire that I recognized the perfect situation this conversation could take place, and that the Count's status as a vampire who received his vampirism directly from Molag Bal (only to turn around and embrace morality) added an extra layer of meaning here. I hope that explains why I did this in the specific way that I did.  That vampires, and their abilities, are they themselves almost representations of Molag Bal's whole concept of domination and submission.  I like that bit of symbolism.   I don't think this particular story would have had as much of an impact otherwise.

It's canon that there are different strains of vampires and that they can do different things depending on the strain.  What's not entirely clear to me is how those mechanics always work (because we don't always see them in game), so forgive me for making a few things up. Additionally, ZOS confirmed they were changing how the feeding animation looks to something "more traditional" so I'm assuming we're going to get people biting necks in the update. Which is a lot better than the weird ridiculous looking funnel of blood, if I’m being honest here.

(one of the other reasons I wanted to write this was to come up with an explanation for why the Count is kind of...irritated all the time, lol)  

Content warnings: A little bit of Molag Bal torture going on here. Vampire biting.   Otherwise I can’t think of anything.  

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

~~~~~~~~~~

“Difficulty sleeping?”  

Those were the first words out of his mouth the moment she stepped lightly into the study.  Even without turning around, even without her making a sound, he seemed to be keenly aware she was there.  It might have been unnerving if she didn’t know anything about him.  

“Nightmares,” was her reply, the shadow of a sad smile coming and going on her lips.  

He nodded silent acknowledgement as she took one of the carved wooden seats available.  For a moment, she watched him as he stood with his back to her; he was stock still, almost statue-like, save for the occasional instance in which he turned the page.  He wore a different set of mage’s robes than he did earlier.  It was similarly a deep, dark grey, but this one had a few threads of red woven in a delicate pattern across the length of it.

“I suppose it quite normal for a mortal to have those when staying in a place like this.”  

He said it flatly, and it was difficult for her to work out whether he was irritated at the idea or resigned to it.

“I assure you, my lord Count,” she responded carefully in turn.  “I’ve been having nightmares long before I accepted your very generous offer to spend the night.”

Platitudes.  That was surely the best way to handle a noble, undead or not, right?

“But if it is at all upsetting to you that I’m here,” she continued, hastily, “It would be a simple thing to pack my affects and travel to Shornhelm.”

He shook his head. “That won’t be necessary. I am not bothered.  And it is likewise too dangerous to travel the roads at this time at night.”

His eyes still never seemed to pry themselves away from his research as he propped open another tome on top of a large pile of books that conveniently reached his height.  

“Vampires hunt best at this time, I’m sure.”  she said, off-handedly, her fingers dancing through the length of her reddish brown hair that was now free of her usual, careful braid.    

“There’s no sun to burn our skin, and our eyes are much better attuned to the dark than a mortal’s.  The bloodfiends, who are nothing more than feral members of our kind, operate much the same.  So long as the people stay indoors and within the city walls, they should be safe.  But a lone traveler, even on horseback, may offer up a too tempting target for them to resist.  You’d be snatched in the gloom and none would hear of it until the morning.”

She didn’t know how to respond to that, though in her mind’s eye she played out a scene with her own mangled corpse lying by the side of the road.  Pale, glassy-eyed, bite-ridden and completely drained of blood.  She scowled at the thought, and shifted in her chair.

“It may not come down to that,” She said, her voice lacking the confidence she’d hoped for, “I’d say I’m pretty good at fighting bloodfiends; and, in fact, I’ve already fought some of them at night...”

“I don’t doubt that, Elyssa.  But is there any real reason to risk yourself unnecessarily? Stay here for the night, and I promise you can leave in the morning.  As early as it takes the sun to rise to the sky and offer you its protection.”

Her scowl deepened.  Did he think she was scared to spend the night at his home-castle-place-thing?  She knew that he was probably used to being a little bit defensive when it came to dealing with others (and that it was kind of her fault for somewhat insisting on staying to begin with), but he can’t honestly think she’d lost her nerve, could he?

“Count Verandis. I seem to have accidentally given you the impression that I’m uncomfortable here or that I desperately wish to leave if only you’d allow me.  Trust me when I say, if I was that desperate or felt like I was in that much danger, I would have already broken one of your pretty stained glass windows and JUMPED myself to freedom.”

She gestured towards the entryway.  “Although I’d probably just try the front door first. Something tells me you wouldn’t stop me, even if you do think it’s foolhardy for a mortal to be prancing about in the dead of night.”

He still didn’t turn away from his books, but from the angle of where she sat she could see the edge of his mouth twitching into, what she’d hope, was something akin towards a smile.  Or maybe that was just a trick of the light.

“I appreciate your consideration for my family home.  Stained glass is difficult to procure these days.”

She smiled at that (he HAD made a joke, right? That was meant as a joke, wasn’t it?), and adjusted herself so that she was lounging a bit in the chair.  Difficult to do, since the wood wasn’t exactly comfortable.  Her plain beige dress, what she usually wore to sleep, wasn’t padded enough to act as a cushion either.   She frowned for the third time that night, and straightened back up.  

“Do you want me to leave you to your studies?” She asked politely, just as the thought occurred to her.  It would act as an excuse to go back to the upstairs bedroom; one of the few rooms that actually had a bed in the entire castle.

“It’s not necessary.” He stated.  

She waited a moment.

“…May I ask a question?”

“If you insist.”  Again, in that flat, dull tone of his that never seemed to hold much emotion.  

“Are you always thirsty?”

This gave him pause, and she could see a few of his fingers ghosting over the latest text he held open before committing to turning another page.

“At some level, yes.  But if you’ve practiced for as long as I have and feed regularly, it’s barely noticeable.”

“So me being in this room for you is, thankfully, not distracting?”

“Your presence isn’t, no.”

Her eyes narrowed in on the back of his head. He was possibly, in a roundabout way, implying that her comments were distracting. It was another one of those statements that made it hard for her to figure out whether he was pissed off, slightly annoyed, or just bored.

“Would you like a bite?” She suddenly asked.

“What?” This time, he DID look up.  Even more, he turned to stare at her with something akin to surprise.

She sat to attention with a triumphant smirk. “Finally, a normal emotional reaction!”

And with that proclamation, his expression hardened and he returned to his books.

“I do not have time for childish endeavors, Elyssa.”  He said sourly.

“You just seem so….I don’t know. Detached.  Either that, or irritated at everyone all the time.  It’s hard to tell with you.  I think that may be the bulk of the reason why a lot of people may be uncomfortable around you.  It’s rather nice to see you actually have some…well…life left in you.”

“When you’ve lived as many years as I have, my child, and watched just as many of your friends age and die…short-lived humans, no less…people you’ve formed attachments to and cared for, again and again…You find ways of…removing yourself from all of it.  If only to ensure that it need not affect you as hard each time.”

Elyssa considered this.  “So…when you say you ‘care’ about the people of Rivenspire—“

“I do care,” He snapped his latest book shut and spun to face her. “I may not be able to feel as deeply as a mother who lost her first child, but I do care about what happens to the people of Rivenspire. I still remember what it was like to lose family, to lose loved ones, the depths of that pain.  Even if I cannot experience it fully for myself anymore, I remember enough to never wish it upon anyone else.  This is why I detest the idea of ever sharing this gift of mine; inflicting it upon others so that they would have to spend decades just learn how to control their despair enough to function.  Can you fathom, can you even imagine, the maddening realization that most everyone you love will soon wither and fade except yourself?”

He approached her at her chair, and though his voice still held that air of mild detachment, his glowing red eyes seemed to burn all the brighter with an inner light.

“You’re correct in the sense that I do have difficulties expressing this.  That I no longer have the capabilities to show others, in any genuine way, the measure of my desire to help.  Mortals rely so much on interpreting emotions through body language and tone of voice, and I am far beyond the point where I can easily weep in the presence of those who are weeping…or even do a decent attempt at trying.”

As he came to stop in front of her, he actually knelt to the ground. To her level.  Eye to eye.

“There’s a reason, in my belief, why the divines would dictate life to be so short and sweet.  Those of us who are cursed to live longer than normal risk…losing things in the process.  I often find myself wanting to socialize with mortals just to get some of that back.  A sense of personhood and direction.  Passions and strivings.  It’s truly remarkable to see reminders of how easy it comes to you.”

He carefully reached out his hand towards her cheek, as though she represented this.  As though she were a symbol of this very discussion.  Just as the tips of cold fingers brushed against her skin, she turned her head just a tad in an attempt to see it in her peripheral.  It was difficult to say whether he interpreted that as a flinch or he suddenly remembered himself, but he withdrew his hand again.  

“I apologize.” He said, getting up and returning once more to the bookshelves.  “I did not mean to touch you without permission.”

“What?  My cheek? That’s not a crime.” Elyssa replied, still trying to absorb everything he just told her.  

“Countess Tamrith would likely disagree with that assessment.”

“Countess Tamrith isn’t here.  And before you go back to your no-doubt riveting literature, I should tell you that I was genuine in offering my blood to you.”

He turned once more to her, an eyebrow delicately raised in questioning.  

“Is that so?  I believe the good Countess would now consider you to have committed a sin.” He asked, and his eyes stared straight at hers for a good measure.

For her part, believing that he was testing her resolve, she sat up straighter and met his gaze head on.

The room was silent for a moment.  

He took a tentative step towards her, and she was a little ashamed that the unexpected movement caused her to flinch. He stopped at the sight.

“We do not usually find people who willingly volunteer so soon after finding out about our condition. Are you sure?”

“Y-Yes.”

“You certainly do not sound it.”

Elyssa huffed out the breath she’d been accidentally holding.  “Well…it isn’t as though I get bitten by a vampire every other day.  I’m not sure what to expect.  Does it hurt?”

“It’s a bite, Elyssa,” And this time, she was sure those glowing eyes of his were laughing at her even if his mouth didn’t show it. “Pain is usually involved in those.  I can, however, promise that it is certainly not excruciating.”

“Well that’s a relief…I think.”

He carefully stepped towards her while she sat stock still and staring straight ahead.  For every moment that he moved closer, she grew more and more uneasy.

“Should I stand up, then?” She said, trying to distract herself from imagining the pain too much; she’d a bad habit of blowing things out of proportion.

“It would be much preferable if you remained seated...Else the dizziness may cause you to fall.  It may even be better if you were to lie down…”

“Sorry, but there’s no way you’re going to get me onto your dining room table.  That would just be too…”  She recalled to mind an earlier scene of stumbling upon them whilst they sat around a half-naked Dark Elf “….awkward.  Awkward and probably uncomfortable.  For me, that is.  No idea if you feel a hundred percent comfortable with people just casually laying on-”

Her spiraling commentary came to a screeching halt when she felt his hand rest lightly on her shoulder.  The very same shoulder twitched, of its own accord, and he removed his hand shortly after.

“That’s the third time you’ve flinched,” he accused.

“No it’s not!” She blurted out.  “That’s barely the first!”

“Elyssa…”

“I can do this!  I’m not a coward!” She insisted, finally turning to face him as he stood right next to her.

“Nobody is calling you as such.  But this is also not necessary, and I believe I made it quite clear that my household only feeds on the willing.”

“I am willing!  I just….I…” Her resolve withered a bit in the midst of staring him down.

His eyes glowing red and unnatural.  A sign, perhaps from the Divines, as to dangers that could lurk behind them.  The same kind of red eyes on the bloodfiends she’d been fighting ever since she came to Rivenspire.

“…I…I just need a moment,” she finished, knowing full well that it was an admission of defeat.

He sighed and walked back to his books.  “Go back to bed, Elyssa.  I need to focus on figuring out what Montclair’s next movements may be.”

She sat there for a few moments longer, but he was firmly encased back in his notes and didn’t turn around again to acknowledge her again.  The obvious signs that the conversation was over.

He thought she was just being childish.

It stung a little, the obvious disregard. Ignored and brushed aside so casually. It almost felt a lot like the time her papa had caught her ruining one of his prized books even after she promised she wouldn’t touch it.  Except this was pretty much a stranger, and she couldn’t discern whether that made it somehow worse.

The feeling, the blatant disregard, threatened to stifle the little study they were in, and it became too much for her to bear that she did decide to leave.  

Slowly taking the steps back upstairs to the bedroom.

She passed a dead mouse and thought idly about it; one of the things that Adusa had done to help the servants prepare the room for her was to take out a couple of live mice.  They didn’t get many guests, or so Adusa said.

But she wondered if the mice weren’t just the natural result of vacancy; the bite mark on this one suggested they were also kept around as a midnight snack.

She chuckled a bit at that as she crept onto the double bed.  The fresh sheets had been thoroughly washed with soap, she had been told, and seemed so very new that they did not even have the usual frayed threads at the end or faded patterns.  And they were just a little bit stiff.

The mortal servants didn’t stay here; there were additional rooms downstairs beyond the storage alcove.  This was purely a guest room.  ….And it almost felt fake.   Like the immortal Count of the castle had attempted to make something seem homely, only for it to just perceptively feel off.

Perhaps the room had seen such rare usage that it failed to ever take on the personalities of those who had used it.

It might have even just been the fact that there were three very obvious coffins resting in the main hall, visible from the guest suite balcony.

It wasn’t bad...it was just…

“Comfy yet, little sweetthing?” The Dremora playfully poked her with the end of a very sharp and very pointy rod.

Elyssa struggled yet again, but the bars of the humanoid shaped cage held fast.

Cadwell…

Lyris…

The Prophet…

The only three kind voices in that entire prison, and they were screaming in agony right behind her.

“What are you doing to them?!  Stop it!”  She cried out, trying, in vain, to turn her head to look at them.

“Now now.  We assure you, they’re being WELL taken care of.” The Dremora poked her again right at her collarbone.  “Just as you will be!”

The screaming behind her increased, as if to prove a point.

“But ooh. Oooh.  It seems you have a guest, sweetling.  Someone is here. Just.  To see.  You.”

More Dremora came, dragging a human alongside them.  The woman was pushed in front of Elyssa’s cage.

“….I asked you for help…” The woman said, tears falling freely as she looked up.  

A shiver went down Elyssa’s spine as soon as she realized she was staring at the face of Duchess Lakana.

“Y-your Grace…”

“I asked you for help…and what did you do?”  The Duchess pointed an accusing finger. “You left me!  You left me alone with that man, that murderer!”

“I didn’t…I didn’t mean to….I didn’t mean to, I swear.  I didn’t know it was him…”  Her eyes began to water up, a mirror of the Duchess’ own face.

“How could you?  You said you would help me!  Why didn’t you do everything you could? Why didn’t you stay with me?”

“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry!”

“And you spared him!  You spared that monster!  How could you do that after he killed me?!”

“That’s enough of that!” The Dremora interrupted, prodding the Duchess to move along. “Put her Gracious Grace alongside the rest of them!  You’re starting a nice collection here, my little sweetling.”

And as soon as the Duchess was dragged out of sight, Elyssa could hear her start to scream as well.  

“Stop it!!  Let them go!!”  She rattled the cage as hard as she could.  

“Ooooh.  Making demands, are we? Do you truly think you’re in any position to save them? Look at you. You couldn’t save the Duchess.  You couldn’t save that family of that poor werewolf Duke. You couldn’t save your darling dearest father…”

The Daedra leaned right into her face, its teeth pearly white and crooked.  And the smell coming from its breath was positively putrid in an indescribable way that had no easy comparisons anywhere on Tamriel.

“…In fact, you can’t even save yourself.”

And with that, the Dremora rammed the rod straight into her shoulder, causing her to jerk back and scream.

Scream.

And Scream.  And fall back onto the…

….

…sheet covers…

Elyssa was shaking.  Her eyes darted back and forth as she ascertained that yes, those were indeed sheet covers.  She was in a room with a bed and nice looking wooden furniture.

In a room made out of stone.

A house.

No, a castle.

That’s right.  Ravenwatch Castle.

There were no Dremora in sight.  No screaming.  No water tainted blue with an eerie light.

No crags filled with bleakest rocks that spread out like daggers.

No distant tundras with nothing but dead plants the eyes could see.

No cages….

Elyssa took one, long, swipe of her hand against her brow, pulling away the sweat that had collected there.  She must have dozed off just then, only to be faced with yet another nightmare.

She tried to push it straight out of her mind and attempt to go back to sleep, but her legs demanded to wander.  That, and she was sure that if she closed her eyes again, the Daedra would return to haunt her.

Her feet took her back downstairs.  The shaking ever present in each and every one of her steps.  Soon enough, she found herself back at the study.  The doorway leading outside, the dining table, the whispering quiet of the night; it all gave the comforting confirmation that the horrors she’d just seen really were just dreams.

Adusa was out scouting the nearby towns and municipal villages.  Melina was out gathering supplies.  The mortal servants were likely fast asleep in their own quarters.  Gwendis was….well, Akatosh only knows where Gwendis went off to.   But sure and steady, Count Ravenwatch was still working in his study.  And the nightmare was fresh enough that she felt drawn to sticking around with the only conscious person she had easy access to.

The scratch of a feather quill paused only briefly as she stood at the threshold.

“Contrary to whatever you may believe, Elyssa,” The Count stated, never looking up. “The sun does not, in fact, rise every twenty minutes like you seem to do.”

Her shaking died down just enough to allow her the dignity of a glare in his direction.  Now she was convinced: the real reason people were uncomfortable around him had absolutely nothing to do with his status as a vampire.

“Bite me,” She seethed back at him.

She’d meant it as an insult.  A come back.  But she realized her mistake when he stopped writing to give her back one, long, unamused look.  Complete with an eyebrow raised.

“Did we not just have this conversation?” He said, turning to another page.

“I don’t care.  I’d rather have conversations all night long if it means I don’t have to go back to sleep.”

She started pacing a bit around the study’s doorway, if only to give her mind something to focus on and her legs something to do.

But as she made a few passes, she noticed he had stopped working and was watching her.  This time with a far more unreadable expression than the blatant apathy.

“What are your dreams about that has you so terrified?”  

“Coldharbour,” She whispered, just barely under her breath.  It must have been loud enough for him to hear her, because his eyes grew a little wider.

“You’ve…actually been there?”

The moment she stopped her pacing was the moment her shaking started up again.   She looked him in the eyes, but found she couldn’t stand to do that for long and had to look towards the floor.

She could hear him whisper something unintelligible; cursing, perhaps, under his breath in Aldmeris.

“You carry a much heavier burden than I initially thought.” He said, “You’re far, far too young for all of this…”

“I can help!  I know I can!” Elyssa insisted, “I’m not afraid of Coldharbour!  I’m not afraid of the bloodfiends!  I’m not afraid to get bitten!  I can prove it! You can have my blood; take it!”

It was supposed to be a reaffirming statement, but her protestations almost made her sound even more childish.

“Elyssa…” he spoke calmly.  Carefully.  “Why is it so important to you that you give me your blood?”

“Because you need it, don’t you?”  She said, frustrated.  She began her pacing again.

“That’s not the reason.”

“Because I want to be helpful!”

“That’s also not the reason.”

This time, she stopped pacing and got angry.

“Because if I don’t give everything I can, and something happened to you, or the High King, or the people of Rivenspire, it will be all my fault again!!”

She yelled it out, and her body feeling a little lighter as she did.  Even as her eyes had begun to water just a bit.

“There it is…” Verandis said softly.

And he left her a moment to go over to the cabinet by the door.

“One of the greatest strengths…” he said, and she could hear him fiddling with something. “…Of the Daedric Prince of Domination is not just in his talent to forcefully suppress a person’s free will or inflicting their greatest fears, but in his capacity for making them feel guilt.”

He returned with a glass of a deep red liquid.  “Physical pain may fade with time, but guilt has a habit of remaining.  What’s worse, it’s often the sufferer that fosters and grows it.  Is there any torture more perfect than that which the victim inflicts upon themselves?  Sit down, Elyssa.”

“What…?”  She glanced from him to the glass as he sat it down at the table between the two chairs in the study.

“If you still insist that I taste your blood, then I must insist that you sit down first.”

Her eyes grew wide a moment, but she clenched her fists out of resolve and held fast as she cautiously took the seat to the right.  He maneuvered the chair opposite to rest closer to her, taking a seat himself.

Her fingers were still trembling as she reached up and undid the top button at the back of her dress, but she hadn’t a clue whether they were trembling because of this or if they were simply leftovers from her fitful sleep.  It may have been both.  

“I don’t...need to take off my clothes completely, do I?”  She frowned in disgust at the thought. She hadn’t considered that part, but the Dunmer from before had been…well…half-naked.

“No,” He said, firmly.  “A shoulder is all that’s required.  Are you ready?”

She glanced at the filled glass.

“Do you always take a shot after you’ve already had a drink?” She joked weakly.

“The wine is for you, Elyssa.  I think you should drink at least a little of it when I’m done.  Now, are you prepared?”

Her hand reached up to pull down one of the shoulders of her dress, just enough so that her collarbone showed.  Her fists clenched and unclenched themselves as she rigidly held them in her lap.  If she were ever bitten by a vampire, this is what it would feel like….

Finally, she nodded.

A touch at her shoulder caused her to flinch again, but they were only fingers.  He was gently moving a strand of hair out of the way.

“Tell me.  I saw you speaking to Melina earlier and it caught my attention.  Did she find a particularly interesting rune?”

She brightened up a little at that.

“Oh!  Well not exactly; we were just talking about this one-ow.”

She was simultaneously a little irritated and a little grateful.  The skeever only asked her that as a distraction… and she actually fell for it.

Vampire fangs were apparently large enough that it felt a little like someone had just happily jabbed a pair of sewing needles into the tender part of her shoulder.  She’d had worse injuries before, but it wasn’t very pleasant either.

…And it was just a tad bit awkward.  For obvious reasons.    

Did the servants really do this on a regular basis?  

Just as she considered the pain, a wave of a new sensation came with it.  He was right; it did have the effect of making a person dizzy.  Dizzy and…a little hazy.  Perhaps it was the lack of sleep that she’d self-induced upon herself for the past couple of days, but she was actually starting to feel…calmer.

Numb.

After a few seconds had passed, it no longer hurt.  And she was no longer sitting up straight in the chair, but rather lounging.  The hard wood had suddenly felt a lot more comfy.

She could still feel him there.  It was hard to ignore his mouth (although she valiantly tried anyways, if only to make it a little less awkward), but she couldn’t really feel any blood actually going out of her (probably a blessing).  One of his hands helped to hold up her neck, and the other right at her upper arm to hold her steady.  It was just as well; the numbness had the effect of making her feel like a puddle of water.

She could also feel him pull away.  Replaced with the feeling of cloth at her shoulder.  Elyssa turned to look and found him softly pressing either a handkerchief or a napkin to the wound (for her sanity’s sake, she decided it was the former rather than the latter).

“That didn’t seem like much,” Her speech was a little slurred.

“Do you still wish to fight the bloodfiends while conscious? If so, then this is all you can afford to lose.  You already run the risk of injury on the battlefield.”

He motioned for her to hold the handkerchief there.  “It will stop bleeding in a moment.  How do you feel?”

“Rather nice…” She said with a slightly loopy smile.  But then she frowned. “Am I supposed to find it nice?”

“All vampires have some level of hypnotic ability.  Some use it to effect of creating slavish thralls.  Mostly, I suspect it’s there to ensure that any prey doesn’t try to escape our grasp.  For this reason, I think it tends to show up often in mortals who have been recently fed upon.”

Elyssa thought about Kallin and the almost eager way he introduced himself to her so soon after the Ravenwatch vampires had dined upon him.

“So…do you influence your servants to give you their blood?”

“I do not always willingly inflict this effect, Elyssa.  Think of it more as a side effect than something I always have a conscious command of.  Anyone I feed on could potentially feel like this.”

“But you have some control of your hypnotic ability, don’t you…?”

“I’m not sure what you’re asking of me.  Here.” He gestured for the handkerchief back and for her to fix her outfit.  

“If you’re implying that I somehow force or coerce my servants to give me their blood, the answer is ‘no’.  I made no such demands of them, nor would I need to.  There are plenty of people in Rivenspire of the unsavory variety; bandits, cutthroats, and the like for whom death would be deserving.   So it would be no trouble to us if Kallin should ever wish to seek employment elsewhere.  I would not stop him. Only ask that he keep the secret of our gifts to himself.  Not everyone in Rivenspire knows of our nature.”

She adjusted her dress back to normal after looking at the mark.  The wound had stopped bleeding; only two pinpricks of red against her skin to mark that anything had actually happened.

“I don’t oversee a prison here in my home.”  He said.

With it being so fresh in her mind, it was difficult to keep her thoughts away from her dream; the bleakness of Molag Bal’s domain and how it contrasted with the Count’s own castle.  In spite of the coffins (and questionable décor)….this was practically paradise compared to Coldharbour.

Then again…wasn’t anything paradise compared to that place?

“You should have a few sips of wine.” He said, interrupting her reverie.  

She nodded and took the glass, letting the liquid swirl within before bringing it to her lips.  It was a tad sweet, and something she must have needed because she took in a large gulp of it.

“The numbness is wearing off…” She said, contemplating the glass in her hand. “…And I have to face my dreams once more…I don’t want to go back to sleep and see Duchess Lakana again…”

“The Duchess of Alcaire…I understand that it was you who thwarted the Daedric plot behind her murder.”

“But I couldn’t save her!  She was so….she was so scared. And she said she was all alone there.  The soldiers wouldn’t even allow her to see most of the entourage that came for her from her father.  I said I would help her and then…then…”

She tried not to get too emotional by taking another large gulp of wine “…I should have stayed right next to her instead of running around…”

“We are all bound by our limitations, my child.  In your case, you cannot possibly be everywhere and save everyone all at once…”

“No.  But I could have made sure I brought her murderer to justice…”

She finished the glass and set it back on the table, balling her hands into fists again.

“…I let him go.  He looked so guilty…and his mind had been manipulated by Vaermina…I thought it was the right thing to do.  At least, that’s what I told myself at the time.”

Elyssa looked down at her hands, clenching and unclenching them, staring at them as though she’d hoped they would somehow provide a better thought process.

“Now I’m wondering if I was really right.  The Duke seemed a little bit angry at my decision…”

“He was likely grieving.”

“And the knight in question - the one who killed her? – he himself said that he felt guilty and deserved to die.”

“Those who feel guilt are not always guilty of anything.  And he, as a knight, was likely considering the strained political relations going on within the Covenant.  His duty to preserve the alliance may have weighed heavily on him to the point where he thought sacrificing his life should be a consideration.”

“But he seemed so…I don’t know.  He was acting so normal when I met him; when he supposedly was under Vaermina’s sway.  I have to wonder if he didn’t secretly want the Duchess to die after all…”

“Now you’re being a bit unfair.”

“But…He could have resisted.”  She said, finally.  “He must have been able to resist.  He should have tried.  He was acting so normal most of the time that he had to have some control of his senses. If he had put a little effort into fighting back, maybe she wouldn’t be dead.  Maybe I would have been able to stop him.  Or maybe I wouldn’t have even had to stop him.  If only he’d considered alternatives…He could have just kidnapped her instead, but no.  She just had to die!  He should have been punished for that...He should have died, and I should ha—“

His hand was at her shoulder again, and that numb feeling came back with such a vengeance that she had instantly slumped back into the chair.  Her anxiety laced rambling put to a halt with a slack jaw.

Her breathing steadied.  Her eyelids drooped.  Every muscle in her body had completely and utterly given in to a state of soothing relaxation.  

“Stand up, Elyssa,” he commanded.

A floating, freeing feeling washed over her as she did as she was told.  The room had gotten brighter, the hallway lighting almost dancing in front of her eyes.

“Come with me upstairs,” he commanded again.

And she felt compelled….no, she felt like it was wonderful to move forward.  He followed behind and caught her by her arms to direct her around the dining room table.

They walked, slow and steady.  Elyssa was sure that if she hadn’t been held by the mer behind her that she’d fall flat on her face.  The numbness took all anxiety away….to be replaced completely with contentment and a calm sort of happiness…It was the most relieving feeling in the world.  

“Molag Bal,” He said, “Would certainly love to have you convinced that weakness is a sin.  That people with weaker wills, much like the knight you speak of, deserve to be punished and tortured.”

They began to ascend the stairs, and Elyssa swayed a bit.  She had been trying her best to focus on walking, but the comforting numbness was making her a bit sleepy.  Besides, her feet and legs appeared to find themselves all on their own, without any effort on her part.

In the back of her mind, there was some measure of concern that something was wrong here.  But any attempt at trying to grasp what exactly was amiss slipped right out of her thoughts.  

“But we all have our weaknesses, Elyssa,” Count Verandis continued.  “There is not a person in all of Tamriel who is devoid of them.  For me, it is the sun.  For you?  Right now, it is your generous acceptance of others who are different than you; the trust that you easily form with strangers in spite of how unusual they may be or, in this case, whether or not they are a vampire.  Acceptance and compassion are very much virtues to be exalted, but in the hands of the wrong people they can become weaknesses to be utilized against you.”

They reached the top of the stairs and made their way into the guest parlor.  Each step forwards made her feel like a leaf on the wind; dancing across the floor as though her body was lighter than air.  The furniture danced alongside her, swimming in her vision.  She heard every word that he said (in fact, it held the bulk of her attention, as if she couldn’t ignore him even if she tried), but finding a response was difficult as she couldn’t formulate the thoughts to say anything.      

“I am grateful for your trust, Elyssa.  Far too many have unfairly scorned or judged us for our condition without ever trying to become acquainted with who we are as people.”

He stopped her just as they reached the table.  She frowned with disappointment; she wanted to keep moving around.  It felt nice.  

“However, imagine for a moment,” He whispered lower, closer to her ear. “How disastrous this would be if I had a more destructive desire.  What would happen if we had met on a dark, lonely night and I had no code of conduct to dictate my thirst?  I would beckon you, entrap you just like this.  How easily you would come to me, following me out of sight of any living person who might help you. Can you imagine what I would do then with such a feast all to myself?  This feeling, this enthrallment, would be the last sensation you ever felt; helpless to do anything as I gorged myself on your life’s blood.”

Fingers appeared at her throat, ever so gently pressed against her skin, against the pulse beating there.  And almost automatically, she found she had lifted her chin even more to better allow them.  She felt a tinge of fear break through the numbness; fear of the mer at her back, at the way her own body rebelled against her wishes to expose her own throat… and a growing, frightening consideration at the back of her mind that he might, just might, take the offer.  In spite of whatever he may have said about their feeding habits before.  

“Tell me,” He said, “Many members of my kind would insist that they have the right to feast on mortals because their prey is weaker than them. Would it be just and proper for me to rip your throat out all because you are powerless right now?  Do I have the right to murder you just because I can?  Because I’m stronger?”

A small bubble of panic managed to sober her up enough to try and wiggle free.  But the movement was half-hearted; she still did not feel like she had complete command of her body.  Even though he did not hold her very firmly, her little movements seemed insufficient to loosen his grasp.  Attempting to maneuver limbs felt like trying to wade through dense tar. And as the words died in her throat before they had the chance to pass her lips, she was met with the horrific realization that she was trapped at his whim without so much as the ability to scream.  

She had never been so terrified of him before that moment.

He removed his hand from her throat to grasp both arms in an attempt to hold her steady; her struggling had given her an awfully dangerous sway that threatened to cause her to hit the table.  Or the floor.  Whichever unfortunate hard surface she reached first.

“It’s all right, Elyssa.” He said, his voice kinder. “I give you my word; your life is safe within my home and among myself and my household.  I’ll release you very soon, I promise.  Relax now, or you’ll hurt yourself.”

As if that was also command, a new, fresh wave of numbness and calm settled in, and she felt too exhausted from her last struggle to resist it.  It took over once again, and the world went fuzzy.

“Sit down,” he commanded, releasing his grip on her arms to pull out a chair. And she obeyed, taking the offered seat.

He went to stand before her with crossed arms.  They remained like that for several minutes before she began to notice that she had feeling back in her legs.  The calm was dying down.  Her fingers could twitch at her will.  Her arms now moved unimpeded.  And with her newly re-acquired control of herself, she immediately proceeded to do the thing she wanted to do the most:

Look up and glare at him.

(Punching him was actually the first option, but she was tired and felt that it required more effort than she thought he deserved)

“How are you feeling?” He asked, unphased by her expression.

“Pretty pissed.”

“As well you should be.  But recognize that it is my fault for exerting my power over you.  It is not your fault that you hadn’t the strength to resist back.  You can’t hold yourself responsible for my actions or the actions of any others…Just as you should not hold other people responsible for the actions of Vaermina.”

Her glare lessened as she contemplated this.  “Do you…suppose that was a taste of what Sir Hughes felt?  The same sort of influence he may have been under?”

“I cannot guess what sort of Daedric magic Vaermina used, but I can almost surely guarantee it was potent.”

She was silent for a moment, unsure of how to respond. So she looked down to fiddle with her fingers.

His demonstration made an impression.

“Never doubt that you made the right choice to spare that knight’s life,” He said, softly.  “He was not a cultist, nor did he willingly implore Vaermina for any of this; she forced her influence upon him by taking advantage of the little bits of doubt that we all experience when it comes to change in our lives. No mortal deserves death all because they were weaker than a Daedric Prince.  If we should go by this logic, then all but a potential handful should be summarily executed right here and now.”

“…Yeah.”  Elyssa sighed, avoiding his gaze. “I think a part of me realizes that.  That I don’t actually blame Sir Hughes, I just…”

“…You still feel a little guilty because you happened to be there.  And you’re desperately trying to look for an excuse to assuage that guilt.”

“Yeah,” She winced to hear it aloud, but he had put it very succinctly.

“Her death wasn’t your fault, Elyssa. You cannot hope to control what a Daedric Prince decides to do; you can only hope to try and stop them.  Even then, such foes are so formidable that it isn’t a guarantee that you will be successful.”

He leaned against the table. “I would consider it impressive that you were even able to save the poor soul manipulated by Vaermina.  He may be punished in exile, but that is a far better, far more appropriate fate than what the Daedric Prince of Nightmares had in store for him, I can promise you that.  I don’t think I need to remind you that Daedra often treat mortals as toys, and are known to mercilessly toss aside those that have passed their usefulness.”

“I guess…” She sighed again, gaze transfixed to the floor in front of him.  But then she remembered what had just happened, and she snapped her head back up to glare at him. “I’m still angry at you, though.”

“And I apologize that I frightened you.  I do regret that.  Make no mistake, it is wrong to affect people’s minds in such a way, and I apologize for that as well.  But I thought it would give you some perspective as to what it feels like to be influenced in such a manner.  At the very least, I would hope that it proved to you how difficult it is to escape.”

“How do you escape?”  She had a terrible thought pass through her head about having to face a much more sinister vampire who would use this technique.

“Different strains of vampirism, different capabilities.  But in this particular case, there were several factors working against you.”

He gestured to her.

“First, you had allowed me to feed off of you, which, I believe, actually helps with this.  Second, you trusted me.  At least, enough to stay the night without any discernible fear for your own safety.  I was able to take advantage of that to exert a much more potent sway.  If you recall, you had regained some ability to fight back the moment I lost that trust and started to frighten you.  Unfortunately, you had, by that point, been under my control for a bit too long that it was difficult to break through.”

“So…Feeding, length of time, and trust.  Did I get that correct?”

“For my particular type of vampirism, yes.  You’ll likely meet many others whose abilities operate under a different set of rules.  It does, however, take no small amount of effort to inflict such hypnotic influence, so it is doubtful that you’ll meet very many opponents who would consider using it against you in the heat of battle.”

She nodded.  “That’s comforting a bit…I think.”

Silence settled over them.

This time, it was Verandis who sighed.

“I cannot speak for the Duchess,” he said, “But I am quite familiar with both the High King and his brother, the Duke of Alcaire.  And I can assure you that neither of them would want you to be this distraught over Duchess Lakana’s death.  Especially not to the point where it is affecting your sleep.”

“Yeah, about that.  I still really don’t want to close my eyes.  So do you have anything you need that I can help with?”

“Blood loss and exhaustion doesn’t strike me as a particularly brilliant plan for fighting off blood fiends.”

“I can’t.”  Elyssa stared him straight in the eye, trying to keep the twitching of her mouth from grimacing too much, “I really, really can’t do this.  I can’t go back to sleep right now; it’s just going to be the same nightmare again.  Like it was yesterday.  And the night before that.”

He stared back at her without comment at first, but eventually uncrossed his arms to head towards his alchemical table in the corner.

“How about,” He said, “I brew you a sleeping draught.”

“But—“

“You needn’t drink it if you don’t want to.  But I’ll leave it here with you, just in case.”

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

“Is this going to be like the last potion you made for me, where I wandered about in your memories?”

“No memories.  Just a typical sleeping potion.”

Her nose rankled at the undesirable scents and burning smells that were already coming from the station as he worked.

“Don’t get me wrong,” she said. “I didn’t really mind stepping into your past.  It was kind of fun being someone else, actually.  Just not sure I’d want to do it on a regular basis, because it was also kind of disorienting.”

“Considering everything you’ve told me, I believe we shouldn’t have a repeat of that.  I’m already beginning to regret what little I’ve shown you; I think you have enough worries without me adding more of my own to your pile.”

She could hear sounds of him pouring liquid into a container, and soon enough he approached her with a bottle of something blood red.

He held it out for her and she reached for it, but his grip held fast.

“Please look at me, Elyssa.”

Her blue eyes looked up to find contemplative red.

“Never let Molag Bal win by accepting his ideology,” He said, resolve in his expression. “Believe me when I say, he would cherish such a submission from you.  Weakness is not a sin…and the powerful should always strive to protect, not abuse.  Remember that.”

She nodded slowly in response to the seriousness in his words, and he released the bottle to her grasp.

“….Vampires fall under the realm of Molag Bal, don’t they?” She asked, holding tight to the vial, “To the point where I even heard that Coldharbour is where their souls go when they die.  Is that one of the many reasons why you have an honor code?  Not just to be a good person, but to fight back against him, even if a little bit?”

The flickers of a very sad smile tugged at the edges of his lips.

“…Have a good night, Elyssa.  May your dreams bring you a much-needed and well-deserved rest.”

And with that, he left her to go back downstairs.

She stared at him as he went.  And stared at the potion he left her when he was gone.

After crawling back to the bed, she pulled out the stopper to take a little sniff of the concoction.  It smelled awful, like most potions do.  And she winced as she pulled back to take a tiny taste of it.

Fortunately, the taste wasn’t half as bad as some of the magicka brews she’d had before; this one only had a faint note of rotting eggs and cabbage, instead of an overt one.  That was an improvement.  

After much staring and much consideration, she held her nose and downed the rest of it in one swallow, smacking her lips with a sour expression as she finished.

But the taste lingered, and soon enough she crept out of bed to go back to the parlor. Rustling through the pantry next to the alchemical vials was a bottle of unopened wine.  She silently gave a prayer of thanks to the Divines that bottles of wine were so readily available in a house full of vampires just as she popped out the cork and took a long swing of it to try to drown out the disgusting rotten eggs.

With the taste gone and her thirst satiated, she made her way back to the bedroom.  A wave of dizziness and exhaustion had quickly crept up on her, and she mumbled her discontent under her breath; apparently it was a very, very potent sleeping potion.

Just before she came upon the bed, all the furniture in the room performed perfect backflips.

Her whole world spun around…

…And faded to black.  

[catte-bard]

Devil’s Bargain

(An old scrap I decided to come back to.)

“I am surprised you decided to accept my invitation. I was worried you wouldn’t come.” Varis zos Galvus had greeted her when she entered the room.

The two guards escorting her gave Bellona and little push from behind. And she had no choice but to step into the room. 

It was a rather lavish place. Decorated nicely as if for the express purpose of hosting guests. It looked like a quaint little dining room with paintings and plants mounted on the walls. One would not have thought it to be upon an airship.

The Emperor of Garlemald sat at a small dining table set in the middle of the room. A lovely supper had been laid out across it. A various number of  enticing cuisines from all corners of the world. Thavnarian, Garlean, Eorzean…

Had it been more favorable circumstances, she might have been glad to see such a spread. A meal one would prepare for an honoured guest. The emperor was even dressed as if to receive one. 

The man lacked his usual intimidating armor—opting to dress more formally for such an occasion. Donning a black,crisp suit trimmed with gold. A red cape clipped at the left shoulder. Though that cumbersome-looking crown of his remained upon his brow. 

Without his armor, he appeared smaller...but no less intimidating. 

The emperor lifted a white gloved hand and beckoned Bellona closer. “Come, sit. Let us talk.”

And stiffly Bellona made her way over to the table. Silent, she sat down at the only other chair at the table which sat across from Varis. It felt odd being mere ilms from the emperor. 

And dangerous.

Here she was at his mercy. And there would be no friends coming to her rescue if this were a trap.

She had told no one where she was going. If she had they would only discourage her, tell her it was a trap. And she would not blame them. For they had every reason to believe that this was a trap.

The emperor of Garlemald requesting that the Warrior of Light come meet with him alone? Any sane person would be wary of any devious ulterior motives. 

But Bellona went anyway. If the emperor truly wanted her dead. He wouldn’t arrange so with such an elaborate trap. So she hoped anyway...

“You had said you wanted to talk.” Bellona told him. “What is it you want?”

“Hmph, straight to the point, I see.” The emperor chuckled. “Come, I’ve gone through great lengths to have this meeting set up perfectly. Even through the trouble of having this lovely meal prepared. Are you hungry, thirsty? I can have a servant fetch something.” 

“I don’t want anything.” Bellona plainly said.

An amused smile as he gestured for a servant bearing a bottle to come over. “Worried I might try to poison you? Honestly, if I wanted to kill Eorzea’s hero, you would have been shot dead before you even set foot on this airship. I said I wanted to talk and I meant that.”

“So talk.” The woman impatiently said. 

The man shrugs, accepting her rejection of his offer. “Very well. It is simple, dear child. I have come to talk about you.”

A frown creases her brow, but she keeps her silence.

Varis takes his glass up, studying it thoughtfully. “You see, it disappointments me greatly to see a daughter of Garlemald take up steel against her kith and kin.”

Bellona tenses. 

“Yes, I know exactly who you are.” He told her. “Bellona bas Marcellus. Daughter of Kaeso and Icilia Marcellus. Ran away from home, country, and emperor. Only to turn up as a violent war criminal.”

Her tail bristles. “What is this about, Varis?”

She had met Varis only once; in the Sea of Clouds. Back then she hadn’t been frightened of him. But now, sitting a mere ilms from his massive figure, Bellona couldn’t help but to feel a bit meek. The man radiated an intimidating energy. 

Those cold golden eyes seemed locked onto her. And Bellona felt that the man could see every fidget or slight movement she made. For a moment, she felt afraid to move as if he’d lash out like some feral lion if she did so.

“That is Emperor Varis to you girl. He deigns to refer to you with courtesy, it would do you well to do the same.” Growled one of the guards from the door. And the emperor held up a hand to placate them.

He rested his folded hands atop the table. “Destruction of an imperial castrum, conspiring with insurgents, murder of high-ranking imperial officers.” The emperor began to list off dryly. “Inciting rebellion within imperial provinces, being instrumental in the attempted murder of the crown prince.”

Everything he listed off was something she’d done. Some of the crimes she committed. Each laid before her to be judged. And she had to admit to herself, that with each one she felt a bit of guilt gnawing within her. Varis might as well have struck her across the face with each one he spoke.

“Tell me,” He asked after letting a heavy silence hang in the air, “What do you think is a worthy punishment of such high treason?”

He wanted to make her feel guilty, but twinge of defiance rose within her chest. No…she would not be made to feel ashamed.

She lifted her head and met his eyes. “Death.”

That’s the way it was. Desertion was a betrayal to the imperial crown. And betraying the imperial crown was the most heinous thing anyone could do. Bellona had known that the moment she left. She knew that there was a chance imprisonment or even execution would be waiting for her if she ever returned to Garlemald. 

“There are so many who would demand your death as compensation.” Varis told her. “That simply having you killed would not be punishment enough. They would see you dragged before the imperial court and judged for your crimes. Publicly punished for all to see what happens to those who would betray the empire.”

He watched her for a moment as if looking for any traces of fear. “Do you think you would deserve that, young Lady Marcellus?”

Her hands balled into fists in her lap. “Yes.”

A chuckle and he sips from his glass. “Honest. I do like that.” He tells her. “And that doesn’t scare you at all? Being so hated?”

It did. Oh, how it terrified her knowing that to go return home might mean her death.

But she couldn’t let Varis see that. To see her afraid is what he wanted. He wanted her scared, wanted to feel he had power over her. 

“Have you just come to scold me for my crimes?” Bellona’s gaze on him hardens. “Why did you ask me here? To threaten me?”

“Quite the opposite.” He says, unwaveringly meeting her gaze. “I’ve come to speak with you about a pardon.”

That made her swallow another snippy response. What had he just said?

Bellona shook her head, suddenly feeling a wave of dizziness. Surely, she had misheard him? 

“You’d offer a war criminal a full pardon?” She asks once she finds her voice again. Her words trembled as she spoke them. She could feel her heart fluttering in her chest. “What of the people’s opinions? You said that many would call for my death.”

“I could have you protected from any vigilantes who would try to take justice into their own hands.” He reassures. 

She frowns. “Protect me? Why?”

“Perhaps because I see a certain potential in you. And I do not like to see potential wasted.” He simply said. “If you return to Garlemald I can guarantee you a clean slate.”

Could...could he really do that?

No...no. Even if he could there would be something he wanted out of it. She could not trust him. 

He takes note of her distrust. “You think I am your enemy, Bellona.” And she feels her skin prickle at the way he says her name so casually. As if speaking to a friend. “I am not. I have not done anything to wrong you personally, have I? You only see me as the villain because you stand with the Eorzeans.”

“But I know you, Emperor Varis.” Bellona snipped. “I’ve heard the stories about you. The fearsome legatus, a man colder than even his own grandsire. And like your grandsire you are a zealous, conqueror who thinks it is his right to take land that isn’t his.”

Bold words she knew. And even as she spoke them she felt herself tremble. Half-expecting a slap across the face for disrespecting the emperor.

The man showed no offense at her words. Instead, languidly swirling the wine around in his glass. 

“What if I were to present you with a better incentive?” The man eventually asked her. “If a full pardon will not entice you, then perhaps the chance at armistice will?”

Bellona frowned at him. Distrusting but also curious as to where he was going with this. Did he really think he had anything up his sleeve that would win her loyalty?

“Isn’t that what you want, Warrior of Light?” He asked. “Peace?”

“And you intend to bring about that peace?” Bellona acidly asked.

“Do you think I get enjoyment out of war? That I take glee in sending the men and women of our nation to their deaths? No I do not.” 

The two of them stared at each other in icy silence. The small dining room felt a heavy tension over it. 

“What if I told you that you might be the key to that peace?” Varis asked. “Many look to you for hope and guidance. If you lead the way in forging alliances, others will follow.

“Swear your loyalty to the Empire. Become my right hand. And you may very well go down in history as the woman who managed to bring peace between Garlemald and the rest of the world.”

Serve Garlemald. Serve her emperor. And anyone and anything she cared about would be spared the empire’s might. 

But she knew better. She knew what he proffered wasn’t that simple. 

“All you have to do,” the emperor promised, “is kneel.” His voice was soft, understanding, almost kind. “You can save them all. Your friends, your family, your people. All you have to do is swallow your foolish pride, renounce your false god, and kneel.”

He looked at her over the rim of his wine glass as he took a sip. Watching her expectantly. Waiting for some sort of answer. 

“You are a gifted young woman. With skills that rival even soldiers twice your age.” Varis went on. “You would have made a fine soldier had you enlisted. Perhaps a young prodigal tribunus by now? Certainly would make your family proud.”

Bellona remained stubbornly silent. 

“I can see by the look in your eyes that you only see me as some mad, merciless, man—a monster.” He raised one pale eyebrow. “You believe my words to be full of deceit but I assure you I am much more gracious than you think. If a son or daughter of Garlemald should ask forgiveness for their folly, then I will grant it. Anyone able to acknowledge that they have erred is worthy of that much.”

“So long as they grovel at your feet for it.” She snips.

Is that what he had invited to this…”parley” for? To make her beg for forgiveness?

And the emperor chuckles at her. “Grovel, she says. Continue to villainize me if you wish. But my offer is sincere and made to very few people.” He tells her. “I see immense talent in you and it goes to waste with the Eorzeans.”

“And the Empire would put it to better use?” Bellona quietly counters. “As what? A weapon?”

For all her barbed comments during this exchange, Varis remained rather cool and collected. If her disrespect and distrust offended him, he hid it well. For he merely smiled at her reply—a vexing, condescending, smile. 

“And what are you for the Eorzeans but a blade to point at their enemies?” He asks. 

“It’s not like that.”

“Why? Because they call you hero and sing of your deeds?” A low, haughty chuckle. “You may not see it, girl, but I wish to offer you a golden opportunity. A chance to do something for your homeland. And it would be disappointing to put someone with such shining merit to death.

“Do try to at least consider my offer without the biased of your companions. I would hope to see us as allies one day.  ”

There was much more to this offer, she could tell. The way he smiled so slyly. The way those golden eyes gleamed with some unnamable intent. There was something more he wanted out of this. And it made her wary. 

“Of course, you need not answer presently.” The emperor told her when she had not spoken up yet. He thoughtfully swirled the dark liquid around in his glass. “Should you wish to think it over, I will allow you some time to do so.

“But know this; while I am a patient man, I do not appreciate my patience being taken advantage of. I do expect an answer from you eventually.” He warned.

“My answer is no and will always be no.” Bellona grounded out through clenched teeth. Did he think her so shallow and desperate that a few words of praise and a promise of pardon would win her over?

Varis set his wine glass down. Was that a twitch of annoyance on his face? It was gone before she could even be sure. “As I said. Do think about it.” He told her, his voice far more colder than before. “What I offer you is not something to be deliberated on so simply.”

A simple nod of his head and the two guards standing sentinel at the door moved to stand beside Bellona. She brushed away their hands when the tried to pull her out of her chair and stood. She lifts her chin at the emperor before turning away. 

“I do not relish in war.” She heard Varis say as his guards escorted her out of the room. “And I know you do not either. Swallow your pride and think about the lives you could save. You have strength, Bellona. And it need not be wasted on all this fighting.”

[joddit-y]

Gabriel and Beelzebub's Divintively Terrible Plan (a Good Omens fanfiction)

if you’d rather read it A03, click here

chapter one is here, three is here , four is here

CHAPTER TWO

Purgatory, as the middle ground between Heaven and Hell, was neither pleasant nor unpleasant. It resembled the generic waiting room of a dentist office. The chairs were plasticy and boring, but with just enough upholstery to be acceptably comfortable. The floor was covered in clean, ugly tile that didn’t squeak when shoes scuffed it. The walls were painted, though a rather sickly looking yellow-green colour. The place was kept an appropriate temperature by a swamp cooler, which occasionally broke down, making the room smell of fish. 

When the contraption found it convenient to function, the air was inexplicably humid and sharp to the nose at the same time. The domain generally smelled of vanilla, which was this close from being sickeningly sweet. Two windows let in some natural light (residual light from heaven above), but the glass panels provided no view to gaze at, merely showing off a dirt plane with increasingly pathetic patches of glass the closer to Hell it got.

Purgatory was empty, as per usual (most humans commit some deed that makes them immediately eligible for Hell or Heaven and never even make it to Purgatory’s nondescript doorstep. This place was reserved for those who, like Purgatory itself, were remarkably insipid.) when Gabriel alighted on its white-and-blue speckled flooring. Electric purple eyes sweeping over the deserted waiting room, the archangel straightened his coat. He didn’t want to seem ruffled in front of the adversary. It wasn’t because he was a bit nervous, heavens no- he simply wanted to represent the very best upstairs had to offer. He ran a hand through his hair, and checked a watch he didn’t have that wouldn’t have functioned anyway because Purgatory was just a smidgen to the left of time. He strode to a small plastic table coupled with two chairs whose fabric vaguely resembled confetti, coat rustling as he turned on his heel to stand straight-backed beside it. Sitting could only be interpreted as a sign of submission to his… confidant, and he refused to show any sign of weakness, especially when discussing such a troubling matter.

The swamp cooler stuttered from where it was squeezed into a window frame, exhaling recycled air into the space. The fluorescent lights had grown considerably brighter when the angel arrived, and they flickered as the ground began to boil ominously, heralding Beelzeub’s arrival. Small burps of acrid smelling gas popped from the floor, the molten ceramic oozing aside to make way for a shaggy, dark haired head emerging from the glop. The angel’s nose hair burned as he stood resolutely with his arms stiffly at his side. He watched the ground give way to a scrawny, suited form with a mildly condescending look on her face.

The fly-ridden Prince of Hell emerged from the warped patch of flooring with a demeanour that closely resembled Gabriel’s expression. The two beings stared at each other for a moment as the lights righted themselves. They seemed to have engaged in an unofficial staring contest, and the only thing in existence that could end it were the final, shuddering wheezes of a dying swamp cooler.

The angel’s lip formed an involuntary sneer. The demon quirked a brow disapprovingly. An angelic glance was spared for the abused tiles, which were found to be completely unblemished, as they always had been. Clearing his throat, Gabriel gestured to the table he was standing next to.

“Would you… like to sit down?”

Beelzebub’s face was pure bratty defiance.

“No.”

Gabriel sighed. He had expected this much he probably would have done the same if she’d been the one asking, time to compromise like the higher being he was.

“How about we both sit? At the same time.”

He ventured, patting the chair nearest him invitingly, internally cringing at the childish methods he had been reduced to. Beelzebub stared coldly at him for a good ten seconds before pulling out the chair opposite him. As they lowered themselves into their seats, Gabriel noted the messenger bag slung over her shoulder.

“Beelzebub, we agreed that the only things attending this meeting would be ourselves.”

When his comment provoked no response, he tried again.

“Sorry, but the bag’s gotta go.”

He smiled, with just enough forced cheer to be threatening. Beelzebub’s blue orbs rolled.

“Relaxxzz, you uptight feather duzter. The bag’zz not dangerouz, not to uzz anyway.”

She snarked, her voice vibrating, its buzzy quality worming its way into Gabriel’s ears. He almost felt violated by it, hethought, eye twitching. The angel raised his immaculately shaped eyebrows, smiling disbelievingly.

“Uh huh. Elaborate please.”

The demon countered with discussing it later in favour of moving on to the matter at hand, and knowing that he would have to be complacent to get anywhere with the stubborn creature he was forced to work with Gabriel reluctantly agreed, keeping a skeptical eye on the bag all the same.

“So. I’ve, ah, heard that recently Hell’s attempt to punish the demon...what was his name again?”

“Crowley. The traitorouzzz zzznake had a hand in averting the apocalypze.”

Gabriel nodded, remembering the arrogant tempter who had conspired with Aziraphale.

“Right. So I heard that that holy water delivered from Heaven itself, from the hands of the archangel Michael. That had no effect?”

Beelzebub scowled, confirming his suspicions.

“And when Heaven attempted to deliver divine justice unto the Principality Aziraphale for-”

Beelzebub interrupted.

“Zzcrewing up what we’ve been working towardz for zixz thouzand yearzz?!”

Her hands clenched white on the table, flies buzzing in a furious frenzy around her head. Gabriel privately agreed with her (although he would have used stronger language).

“That is certainly one way to put it, yes. We were given the most devastating hellfire your realm possessed, and yet Aziraphale not only survived, but was able to control the fire. He nearly burnt us!”

He exclaimed, hoping to impress upon the demon how dire the situation had become. The Prince looked genuinely surprised for a moment before the apathetic frown concealed her emotions again. A few strands of oily black hair swung into her eyes as her head lowered.

Gabriel clasped his hands on the table, waiting for the demon to speak. When she didn’t, he was once again faced with the task of starting conversation again.

“I wanted this meeting because we cannot allow two rogues to exist. Who knows what ridiculous ideas our troops will get if they continue to spread their...delusions? And it’s not as if we can...well. Our courses of action are limited.”

He muttered uneasily, fingers reaching up to tug at his sweater collar. The air had acquired a damp, sticky quality to it as the effects of the cooler wore off.

Neither of them would openly admit it, but both were very afraid of the angel and demon who could withstand the things that irrevocably, unquestionably, killed angels and demons. It was something that hadn’t occurred in over six thousand years, it was unheard of. And if they were resistant to their species’ only surefire methods of execution, what else were they capable of? And did they want to find out?

Beelzebub swiped her tongue over her bottom lip nervously, attempting a confident facade.

“Zo what if we can’t kill them.”

Gabriel looked up curiously.

“Excuse me?”

“Zzo what if we can’t kill them! They don’t need to be dead, juzt incapazitated.”

Gabriel rolled the idea around in his head for a moment. The logic was there, but there was still the problem of Aziraphale spreading his delusions of peace among other angels.

“Sounds like a nice idea, but how do we get rid of them in a way that they can’t pass on their misguided ideas to others?”

Beelzebub grinned. A demon grinning isn’t a particularly pleasant sight, especially when that demon has flies coming in and out of her mouth like some sick kind of revolving door. Several had already pushed their way out the corners of her grimy mouth. The angel’s placating smile tightened in disgust. The Prince paid him no mind, bringing his attention to the messenger bag once more.

“See- that’zz what thiz izz for.”

She plopped the old leather bag onto the tabletop, the object inside landing with a heavy sounding clunk. Lifting the flap, she proceeded to carefully pull out a small, deteriorating black velvet ring box. She presented it before him as if it were God’s Great Plan all wrapped up for them to read. Gabriel drew himself up straight, leaning in closer in case what made the box so special was very small. He studied it, trying to understand why the demon sitting at his table was so proud of it.

“What exactly do human coupling traditions have to do with any of this.”

He said haughtily, masking his confoundment with contempt. The Prince frowned and rolled her eyes even further back, if that was possible, then placed the box in the center of the table. The bag fell back at her side.

“I expected you to recognizze it-”

Gabriel frowned, irritated by her audacity to insult his knowledge of… wherever this thing came from.

“But God had nothing to do with itz creation, so I suppoze that makezz zenzze. Zo to make a long ztory short, a long time ago there waz thizz witch who propozed to her ye old boyfriend or whatever, but back then it waz improper for women to do such a thing. Her boyfriend waz zzo offended that he left her, and she got zo upzzet that she curzzed the ringbox. She enchanted it to capture the memoriezz her boyfriend had of the event, becauze she waz afraid he’d tell people what had happened, and that she would be zcorned for doing zuch a thing. But the thing izz, she wazn’t a very good witch, and the box took all hiz memoriezz.”

Beelzebub paused for breath, and Gabriel jumped in.

“So was it a one time deal?”

“No. Zomeone found it after she died and opened it. The ztolen memoriezz ezcaped and returned to their owner, even though he wazz long dead. Hell commandeered it after that incident, and it hazzn’t been uzed zince.”

The archangel leaned back in his chair, the plastic groaning slightly from lack of use.

“...So what you’re saying is that this memory box is empty, and we can use it on Aziraphale and Crowley?”

The demon nodded. Gabriel tapped his chin contemplatively.

“Hang on, can the box hold two minds worth of memories at once? Because we wouldn’t be able to open it a second time after dealing with one of them, it’d just release the first one’s memories.” He observed thoughtfully, glancing at the inconspicuously powerful object sitting between them. The hair on his forearms were standing on end. The magic woven into the velvet was albeit sloppy, but the passion with which it had been created made it all the more powerful.

“All we have to izz aim it at both of them and they’ll be taken zimultaneouzzly.”

Gabriel huffed a small chuckle, rapped his fingers on the table and stood, the chair squeaking in protest. Beelzebub was upright soon after, dusting off her coat. Vibrant purple eyes crinkled with amusement as the angel extended a hand towards the Prince of Hell. His chilly hand was grasped by a feverish one, and Gabriel leaned forward ever so slightly to ask a question he felt ought to be whispered, even though they were alone.

“Think you can spare some weaker demons for the job?” He whispered conspiringly, suppressing the urge to swat one of the demon’s insects that was exploring his neck into divine oblivion.

“I’ll zee to it.” Beelzebub leered, giving the holy being’s hand a firm shake.

With the lingering smell of roadkill in the air, the ground opened its roiling maw to swallow up the Lord of the Flies as blinding divine light spilled over the plane, making it almost impossible to see the faint outline of towering lavender wings thrusting upwards towards Heaven.

Purgatory was deserted once more, not a single molecule indicating that two immortals had ever occupied it. It was a bit disappointed honestly, this had been the most action the realm had seen in decades, and it had nothing to show for it but faint elevator music as the swamp cooler heaved itself back into miserable life.

~thanks for reading!~

[zoeekar]

1-44 of those questions fjfjfj

I know who you are why you do this to me?? 👀👀

1. Any scars?

Not self-inflicted ones, but I do have a couple from my cat from 7 years ago... xD

2. Self harmed?

Nope

3. Crush?

My gf is lurking, I have to say her lmaoo also just look at my blog tbh.... 😂

4. Kissed anyone?

Kissed about four (4) people, hide yo wives! 😂

5. Coke or Pepsi?

Neither, I hate fizzy drinks that are not mixed with alcohol xD

6. Someone you hate?

Hate is a strong word, I just strongly dislike a couple of people

7. Best Friends?

My real-life best friends either don’t care about tumblr or refuse to make an account (I’m talking to you, Hayley!) but honestly, I may not have too many friends, but the ones I do have, I consider them besties

8. Have you ever done alcohol or drugs?

I do drink sometimes, socially and I’ve smoked (and eaten) weed before but that was aaaaages ago and it didn’t even do anything for me lol

9. What’s your dream job?

Freelance creator and/or writer 😊 I’m currently working towards both of those. At a snail’s pace, but I’m working on it nonetheless

10. Ever been in love?

A couple times. One of them didn’t end too great, we don’t talk about that xD

11. Last time you cried?

Don’t even remember tbh. Which is a good thing!

12. Favorite color?

Black, purple, blue, green...

13. Height?

164, I’m p smol haha

14. Birthday?

April 13. Y’all should wish me happy bday in 7 months! 😂

15. Eye color?

Green

16. Hair color?

Natural; black. Artificial; blue

17. What do you love?

Food xD And movies and books and shows and writing and drawing and watching/listening to true crime podcasts and videos

18. Obsession?

👀👀👀👀

I mean what?? (gifs not mine, can’t tag/credit ppl on my stupid phone though!) 

19. If you had one wish, what would it be?

For me and the people I love to be happy and have our dreams come true and live our best lives! Also more understanding among everyone and less discrimination/racism etc etc

20. Do you love someone?

My gf, my best friends, my parents and my brother, my grandma, my fur baby who I haven’t seen in almost a year...

21. Kiss or hug?

Both (or neither) depending on the situation. I do love me some soft cheek kisses tho

22. Nicknames people call you?

Zo, Z, Mush (thanks for that, Hayley)... Can’t think or anything else rn tbh

23. Favorite song?

Oh, loooooooads of songs! Can’t pick one

24. Favorite band?

Dunno??? Florence and the Machine?? 

25. Worst thing that has ever happened to you?

I’ve been lucky enough that nothing truly bad has ever happened to me tbh

26. Best thing that has ever happened to you?

I worked in Disneyland back in 2015 and it kind of kickstarted the rest of my life xD

27. Something you would change about yourself?

Was gonna say my body but like... Maybe my confidence levels lmao and also my boobs. I hate them, they’re too big! 

28. Ever dated someone?

I’ve dated the same amount of people I’ve kissed (four)

29. Worst mistake?

I don’t really like to think that I’ve made mistakes tbh? Like... I’ve made some choices that turned out to be less than great, but I didn’t know that at the time. And also, without those, I wouldn’t be who I am today, so...

30. Watch the movie or read the book?

Both, duh!

31. Ever had a heartbreak?

Yep

32. Favorite show?

Euphoria, Killing Eve, Dead To Me, Fleabag, One Day at a Time, Luther, The Good Place, You, Sex Education, The Haunting of Hill House, The Office US (and UK), Parks and Rec, Pushing Daisies, Derry Girls, Sharp Objects, Everything Sucks, Spartacus, Chuck, Avatar: The Last Airbender, Kim Possible, Hibike! Euphonium... TOO MANY

33. Best day of your life?

No idea, honestly

34. Any talents?

I’d like to think I’m decent at drawing and writing xD

35. Do you wish you could ever start over?

Not really, I’m quite happy with the way things have turned out so far

36. Any bad habits?

Naaaaaaah. Maybe eating a bit more Nutella than I should 😂

37. Ever had a near death experience?

Nope. I have had ghost experiences tho

38. Someone I can tell anything to?

My gf and my closest friends. And also strangers online 😊

39. Ever lost a loved one?

My grandpa died a few years ago but I’ve never experienced true loss tbh. I loved him and all, but he was like 90 years old and v sick so we all knew it was coming. I’ve never lost someone close to me out of the blue

40. Do you believe in love?

I believe in mutual understanding and support and also being able to be yourself with someone without feeling embarrassed

41. Someone you hate/Dislike?

Not hate, I just don’t really like a couple people at work and like... some people from back home but that’s pretty much it

42. Are you okay?

A lot better than I was this time  last year, let me tell you that xD

43. Relationship status?

Taken 😊

44. Selfie?

Not a Selfie™️ but pretty representative of who I am on the inside xD

[raleigh-ocean]

water lillies bloomed from chaos (and love) | chapter 1

summary: it’s not like they were connected to her by blood or a strong bond, but it was more like magic choose them in between perfection, chaos, love and something unknown to make them just perfect, broken and fixed as they were. Raleigh thought however, amidst her own broken pieces, that if something remained from their big love, it was all mixed in those three young witches: Zoe, Mallory and Madison. And she wasn’t going to give up in any of her lovechilds, as much trouble it could seem.

words: 4, 700

ao3 link: here!

song: secret for the mad by dodie

chapters: 1

the one where patience is a virtue (madison, pt. 1)

Looking into it, Raleigh always hated Louisiana's summer.

The heat, the humidity, it always made her feel like she was losing weight just by standing up.

Destiny decided to make her come back in the middle of fucking summer in a cruel poor attempt of pulling her leg, not letting her to actually prepare something to fight against it. Loathing dresses, she had to stick with her old pair of shorts almost everyday holding how much it displeased her showing her legs...or any centimeter of her skin for that matter.

Tightening her grip to her purse, she tried to take her mind off of that and keep trying to focus in the screen where her order would show up at any minute.

Only a month back and she was breaking Cordelia's rules at its fullest. But she was craving, she needed her sugar intake to keep her brain working. The new diet Raleigh was following was meant to rise her weight from a healthy perspective, but Morgana helped her, what's she needed was a burguer an extra large order of chicken nuggets and a double sized milkshake. And a Dr.Pepper.

Even when she went out of the store, the humidity feeling even worse because of the upcoming rainy clouds, she felt content. Content for being back, for starting to roll with the events, for being home, for being alive.

Cordelia also had forbidden her from driving, so when she got in the car Queenie’s smiling face was waiting for her. It was one of the few things Raleigh did obey, but she was fixing that soon. Raleigh handed her buddy in crime her order, getting a cheer out of her. That’s what she liked the most about Queenie: she was always up for a mischief - and breaking some rules.

“I thought you were ordering for both, not for the entire Academy,” the girl laughed, watching as Raleigh pulled her chocolate milkshake and took a good sip with the straw.

“You know how the girls get,” Raleigh shrugged, putting the bag over her legs. “I love to see them battle royale their way for a chicken nugget.”

Bursting in laughter at the memory from a few nights ago, they took a couple of bites before Queenie drove off to the Academy.

Out of everyone, Queenie was the fastest to warm up to Raleigh’s presence again and that was a very much welcomed gesture. Zoe still seemed to be taking her time, not really sure if her mentor was the same as she used to be. Mallory was having a hard time adjusting to Raleigh and Madison sleeping with her in the same room and tried to avoid them for the time being; she was still hurt because Cordelia gave her the scold of her life and she respected the Supreme an awful lot. Misty was a lost cause, Raleigh could still feel her cold and full of hurt eyes on her, her heart sinking behind her ribs and into a hole of fear quickly. And Cordelia...well, she was getting there but her professional approach left her feeling as terrible as it did looking into Misty’s eyes.

As a phantom pain appeared, Raleigh’s hand lingered in her own cheek. Being slapped by the love of your life was always a big no-no, even when she deserved all of it. She felt really lucky that Cordelia confined her along Madison and Mallory to that shared room instead of being kicked out of the Academy.

“It’s a luck we have this weekend free,” Queenie put Raleigh down on Earth again, taking a right and then giving her milkshake a sip. “With Cordelia and Zoe away, we can relax a bit.”

“It’s not as if I have something to do aside of reading,” Raleigh chuckled at that, eating a few fries in one go.

“C’mon, you like that, being in silence with your books and shit,” they weren’t that far from the house anymore and Queenie drove as if she had done that trip thousand and thousand of times. “You spent like twenty hours glued to a book back then,” the girl laughed openly and Raleigh shook her head a bit. “The other four were for eating, sleeping and fucking Mist.”

The memory made her stomach churn, and Raleigh focused her eyes out of the window. After taking a step back and watching how Misty and Cordelia moved on in her absence, still made her feel like that. Raleigh wasn’t proud of how the swamp witch and her handled their ‘relationship’; she spent five years mourning her, thinking she was good as dead upon hearing her in the other side of the line when she called Mallory to go pick her up.

“I helped Nan several times to bake,” Raleigh tried to defense herself. “And you with more dark magic stuff, which I hope Cordelia knows nothing about; and Zo with her powers and-”

And now I'm helping Madison. She wanted to keep saying that, because back then she wasn't one of the few she was really close to. Maybe it was Fiona's influence working on her and later how she disappeared several times and acted basically as the worst out there, not that Raleigh blamed her fully for.

“Okay, I get it,” Queenie interrupted her with a good laugh that made Raleigh feel full of warmth instead of dread. She was one of the few that was actually vocal about the problems Raleigh had with the two oldest members of the coven, so she knew when to pick up the cue of not talking about it. “Listen, why don't we set up movie night tomorrow? You literally missed a fucking ton of good movies and I'm making you watch them all.”

That little change in the conversation was more than welcomed, making the last minutes of the trip light and enjoyable. Not that Raleigh's mind couldn't work at two things at the same time, because even when she was talking with Queenie underneath she was also thinking about Madison.

If there was one thing she was actually proud of herself, was the capacity of picking up little details from others. Like how Cordelia still closed her eyes a second upon hearing something that she knew would shocked her, or how Mallory played with her fingers when she couldn't word her thoughts. And in between details, Raleigh discovered Madison's.

At meals she usually sat the furthest from them all, in silence and trying to eat unsuccessfully whatever couple of things she picked from the table. It worried Raleigh that her plate was almost full at the end, but anyone seemed to notice. She had seen her during her own sleepless nights going down to the kitchen and try to eat before running to throw up everything. Also it didn't help at all that her intake of cigarettes had doubled.

As Queenie was starting to pull over by the Academy, Raleigh looked at the fast food bag in her lap. Obviously she had bought their cravings with some extras for the rest of the girls, but also she had picked a little pack for Madison. With the memory of the day they came back in her head, Raleigh had placed the order without hesitation. Desperate times needed from desperate measures, right?

Queenie decided to have her meal in her room, wanting to keep watching a show while eating, but Raleigh decided to take over the kitchen.

It was a feeling in her guts, as if whatever she was hoping for it was there - as when she was young and she was just too perceptive instead of having a know-it-all power. The sound of someone typing on their phone plus the ruffle in the kitchen cabinets made her feel a bit nervous, but Raleigh calmed herself while holding Madison's vanilla milkshake in her hand. The latina witch entered the room to discover Madison sitting there, phone in hand and cigarette resting in the ashtray, windows open to try and catch a lucky afternoon breeze. Misty was there too, making iced tea apparently, and Raleigh felt her giving her a quick look before going back to what she was doing.

Shit that it hurt, but now wasn't the moment to dwell on it.

“Ready to see people battle-royalling over a chicken nugget?” Raleigh's voice made Madison look up to her, a soft smirk on her lips.

“My bet this time goes to…” Madison contemplated her options for a second, taking a drag of her cigarette. “They'll drop that shit to the floor and at least one will cry over it.”

Raleigh chuckled at that, placing the bag in the counter before getting a couple plates and some glasses. Since Queenie had told them about what happened when someone left any kind of treat over the kitchen counter, it became something fun to bet for. I mean, they still were there getting used to live among witches again and they didn't have a lot to do, what else could they do?

“A little one is going to get everything while the rest fight,” Madison huffed at that, underestimating Raleigh's bet. “Mark my words, they pretty smart.”

“Yeah whatever,” turning to her phone again, one earphone on to keep listening what she was watching, Madison lost interest in how Raleigh was placing food in one plate. “Where goes your bet swampy?”

Misty sighed heavily, not wanting to get dragged to the conversation, and Raleigh gave her a sideway look before pouring the milkshakes from the plastic cup to the crystal glasses. Putting her palm over the rim of Madison's glass, Raleigh closed her eyes before muttering some words in latin really low but Misty caught her doing it. What was going on with her? Now she wanted to enchant the students?

However she didn't say a thing nor stopped her.

“Not placin’ bets on how the girls go crazy over food,” her tone more serious, showing how being around Cordelia had changed her a bit, made Madison huff again and Raleigh scratched the back of her head a bit. “And Delia doesn’t want junk food in the house since last time.”

“Don't be a pussy, Cordy is not even here,” Raleigh turned around with her two plates to place it by Madison's side, where she was going to sit. “I know you are next in charge when she and Zoe aren't here, but you were never the killjoy.”

“Whatever you say to make yourself feel better Maddie,” another sigh falling the Cajun's lips and Raleigh saw how Madison wanted to reply but instead chose not to.

She knew the starlet would have started a big argument just for that, but this new persona that Madison was developing wasn't kind to being too loud. Raleigh had noticed that too, as if she was up to throw the first brick but at the same time be reluctant to keep on throwing them.

“I brought this for you cupcake,” the nickname made the youngest blonde to roll her eyes, but looked interested at the glass. “And french fries to stop a train, so you better eat some.”

Raleigh then noticed how Misty turned around as if she was going to say something, but when she saw how Madison barely touch the milkshake she leant back in the counter with a glass of iced tea in her hand. Biting her burger with the hunger of a pack of wolves, Raleigh waited for Madison to do something aside of keeping her attention in her phone. In the next ten minutes, she didn't even sip the milkshake and that both relaxed Misty - who was worried about whatever spell was placed there - and made Raleigh anxious - she knew for a fact that she skipped both last night dinner, breakfast and lunch.

“I'll eat upstairs,” Madison finally said, standing up and taking the glass and a few chicken nuggets and fries in a bowl. “In case any of you need me.”

But when she was about to cross the kitchen door, it closed magically with a loud bang that startled Misty and Madison, make them jump a bit. Raleigh kept eating as if she didn't notice and the young girl huffed annoyed before turning around to look at Misty.

“So funny, did you want to play a prank on me?” she put down the bowl and the glass in the table again, confronting the confused witch. “Because I'm not taking any bullshit, swampy.”

“I don't know what're you talkin’ about,” Misty tensed to that, ready to fight back even when she was very much confused for what did just happened.

“Don't play the idiot, I know it was you,” she got closer to Misty and then the window did just the same as the door, but it didn't close just loud banged against the frame. “Stop or-”

“It was me,” Raleigh stopped the incoming fight without even lift her eyes from her food. Madison and Misty turned around, puzzled, to look at the other woman. “And don't ever talk to Misty like that or I'll slap the shit out of you,” the warning behind her words was enough to make Madison step back and look wherever except to Raleigh, who pulled the chair where she was sat previously and invite her to take a sit again. “Now sit, explain what the fuck is going on with you and eat.”

Both blondes looked at each other for a second and Misty knew, deep inside her, that she got caught in one of those moments she missed when they were all in the Academy. A moment were Raleigh wasn't being this entity she clashed with and instead was taking in her hands a real problem. She had heard from Zoe and Queenie - and from Cordelia, when she was tired and nostalgia made her feel overwhelmed - how Raleigh was capable to be a good mentor if she put her mind into it, but with everything that came with her returning, she wasn't believing it if she was being honest.

To see Madison obey after a couple of minutes, at least in the ‘taking a sit’ part, was truly something else. Misty stood by the counter, leaning back again since she didn’t want to leave both alone. Cordelia told her in the privacy of their room if she could manage to ‘take care’ of them an extra bit more than the rest.

“Nothing’s going…” she was got quiet for a second, taping her fingers against the glass softly. “...that’s the problem, I think,” Madison tried to avoid visual contact and Raleigh let her that, waiting for her to keep talking. “I’m not going to be an actress anymore.”

Raleigh scrunched up her nose a bit with that soft whisper. She always wanted to ask her if she actually thought of herself as that, so at least her curiosity was fulfilled somehow. Maybe not in the good way but well.

“I can’t feel my magic anymore…” even as a trembling statement, it came with the determination of someone that was coming into terms with themselves. And that was a very brave thing to do.

“I couldn’t neither right when I came back,” Misty raised her voice shyly and Raleigh put the last of her burger in her mouth, as if she just wanted to listen to them talking. “It took me months to be able to bloom a flower, everythin’ used to die under my touch.”

“I bet screwing Cordy sped up the process,” there wasn’t malice behind the comment, it was just a simple ‘messing around’ type of comment that was welcomed by the other witch.

“Actually it made it worse,” a soft chuckle that made Raleigh sip her milkshake while looking at her food so she didn’t have to see how her face was blushing lightly. “Dee has too much magic and it kinda suck whatever I had left, so it got to the point where she had to make me potions to fix my ‘magic flow’.”

Madison actually chuckled at that and eased the tension in the kitchen. She was telling them her worries, but not talking about them. Raleigh was still glad that she could address her problems at least, it was easier for her to pick up more details. However, she wanted to counterattack the most immediate one: Madison's eating habits. If that wasn't taking cared of, the other problems wouldn't even exists.

“That's why you aren't eating?” direct, Raleigh bit down half nugget and looked at her. Madison still refused to look anywhere else than her vanilla milkshake. “Are you too worried about not being a famous witch actress to even eat?”

Crossing the line she knew was there, the tension was up again. Raleigh caught Misty putting a confused face and when she looked directly at Madison, the girl was looking at her lap with serious face. She had spent three years buried in a ditch, waiting to heal; she could spend all the necessary minutes to let Madison explain herself. Silence overtook them yet again but it didn't stop Raleigh to keep having her meal. Lifting her eyes from the plate, she made visual contact with Misty for a second and it felt as if they never were giving this stupid ‘silent treatment’ to each other. It only took Raleigh a tiny gesture with her fingers to make the other witch round the table to stand by her side.

Circling her thighs with an arm as sweet gesture and then resting her hand up in Misty's lower back, Raleigh sighed a bit. That was something at least. Misty left her glass in the table to take some fries with one hand and her free rested over Raleigh's shoulders naturally. As if it was the most natural thing.

“It's just…like last time,” Madison mumbled, frowning slightly. “I can't feel anything, I don't know what else to do…if I try to eat, it taste like ashes and then my stomach gets upset and then I have to, you know,” she didn't say the word but she motioned with her hand making it obvious. When Raleigh nor Misty didn't said a thing, she chuckled darkly and shook her head. “This is why I didn't want to talk, you think I'm crazy.”

“Not at all,” Raleigh took the lead again, wiping her fingers in the napkin in front of her before placing her free hand between Madison's shoulder blades. “Look cupcake, and this comes from someone that is allegedly batshit crazy, you are not,” it was then when her hand rested in Madison's nape that she actually looked at her in the eyes. The big word made the youngest giggle. “And we are here for you. We will figure something out to help you, but you have to let us.”

Upon looking up to the two women in front of her, Madison felt her chest tight. They weren't patronizing her, they were just worried about her. Misty had a half smile on, as if she was encouraging her to keep going and take the words to her heart, with this spark in her eyes she lacked when they were at the Academy before the Seven Wonders; Raleigh was looking at her with maybe tenderness? It was hard to discern thanks to the terrible and scary scar that crossed her face took over any other emotion, but her hand not leaving its place at her nape was enough to reassure her of it.

What a weird feeling was that of feeling taken care of.

Tears pushed for freedom, but Madison held them in by just closing her eyes a second. Deep inside she knew it wasn’t necessary for her to reply at what Raleigh said, so she took that opportunity to just take the glass to her lips and finally sip at the vanilla milkshake. With her eyes closed, trying to pick the sweet flavour over the ashes one, Madison couldn’t notice how Raleigh seemed at ease with that gesture while Misty looked troubled for letting her drink when she didn’t know what spell the other woman had put in the beverage.

“I didn’t want to sound pushy,” it was a muttered unspoken apology while Raleigh withdrew her hand from Madison’s nape when the humidity and the heat started to become too much for her to keep touching her, skin to skin. “I’ll be happy if you drink at least half of that milkshake, or just a few more sips, whatever you feel like, okay?”

Madison nodded and Misty could see how something was worrying her by the way she had her eyes were fixated in her lap. She wasn’t a really patient person - the only bit of patience she had was when it came to use her green magic, and even then she still specially wasn’t - so the only thing to ease her nerves came in the form of stuffing a few french fries in her mouth. She couldn’t help but wonder how Raleigh managed to keep her cool that well, but again she realized she still had too much to learn about the woman’s true persona. Feeling her, however, with her hand resting in the small of her back, was a good start. It was also the first time they actually ‘touch’ since Raleigh came back, the first time they were kind of exchanging more than pained and angry glances - which were coming mostly from Misty’s side.

Each too busy inside their own heads, they didn’t expected what Madison did next.

For Raleigh was really strange to feel someone wanting to be that close to her, but she once let Zoe did the same several years ago. Madison wasn’t heavy, not at all, so it wasn’t something uncomfortable having her sitting in her right leg like a child. None of them said something but Misty’s grip tightened softly in Raleigh’s shoulder when the latter looked up to her, watching how the girl was dividing a chicken nugget with her fingers and nibbling at it. They were lucky the kitchen door was closed, because they made a really odd picture just eating in silence there, the three of them, as if they were the only ones.

“If any of you say something about this, I’m going to run over you two with my car,” Madison mumbled that as a warning after sipping her drink once again.

Raleigh couldn’t help but chuckle at that, giving her a few pats in her back, while Misty huffed in defeat before separate herself from the other two to refill her glass of iced tea. That was the old Madison trying to speak through the new one, making everything sound totally different than she intended. Not that the other two would actually say something, Misty considering if telling Cordelia was the right choice after the problem was ‘fixed’ at it seemed.

They fell again in another comfortable silence, only interrupted by the soft clinks from the plates and glasses, as they keep eating. Madison managed to get through two chicken nuggets, four french fries and a quarter of milkshake before standing up from Raleigh’s leg, who finished off the rest of the food as if she was starving. The girl waved goodbye awkwardly to the other two and when they were sure she was far away from the kitchen, Raleigh sighed loudly before standing up to clean.

“What did’ya put in her drink?”

Misty turned around to watch Raleigh doing the simple task. They never got to be like that, such domestic setting.

“Why would I?” Raleigh shrugged with tiredness overcoming her voice, the hot water making her start to sweat again slightly.

“I don’t know,” there was something in Misty’s voice that sounded like a mix of fear and anger. “I don’t know what’s goin’ on in your head.”

Anymore. Both listened the silent word even when it wasn’t said at all. But that didn’t stop Raleigh to finish the task, drying her hands in a cloth. She didn’t want to look at the Cajun witch and face the confusion nor the anger, not right now when she spent the last bits of energy in trying to make Madison feel better.

“Do you know what’s vanilla used for?”

“What’s with that-“

“Appetite-inducing effect, or that they say, it was a risky move to do since I read that can be the opposite however,” before she could keep talking, Raleigh interrupted her. That was one of the things she used to hate of her, how she seemed to work in another plane of existence where she didn’t have to wait for anyone to give her an answer. “Even if it’s not the real thing what the milkshakes have, it still something,” another shrug, as if she was considering the options floating in her head. “I just busted it up with a couple spells. If she had upset stomach, it would do her some good, but I also did another one so the food stay where it has to stay just in case.”

Puzzled, Misty stood there speechless. Raleigh placed the extra order of chicken nuggets somewhere visible so when the other residents of the house came in time for dinner, they could find it easily. As much as she hated how smartass the other woman was at times, it also attracted her that side of her. Cordelia was a bit like that too, but in a different way, a softer one at least.

Patting her shoulder awkwardly, Raleigh took that as her cue to leave the kitchen. Too much interaction for her like in just one day, she was going to take the current book she was reading and find a silent shadow-y spot in the backyard to read until dinner.

Yet still, she stopped before crossing the door.

“Misty?” her name was strange to her lips, used to call for her using her designated nicknames in the past. It would take a while to get used to the new situation. “You should talk to Cordelia about this once she’s back, she is the potioncraft genius after all,” another soft laugh falling from Raleigh’s lips that warmed Misty a bit. “Spells doesn’t last much, I’m afraid.”

After that, the Academy fell again in its day routine. It wasn’t the time yet to discuss or dwell in the past. Everything had to start flowing again, slowly but surely, so the right time could come.

Until dinner time, each of the ‘adults’ in the house occupied themselves in diverse stuff. Queenie had fallen asleep to her show after finishing her burger; Madison kinda took a nap too with her earphones on and blocking the sound of the chattering in the halls and rooms; Raleigh finished her book within a couple hours, keeping herself in the backyard enjoying the silence; and Misty tried to keep an eye on the girls before going to their private collection of books to pick up some of Cordelia's notebooks about botanic.

But when the time arrived, their resident voodoo witch gathered them all outside the kitchen back door just to witness the said battle royale from before. Misty actually placed a bet in the end - “one of the oldies gonna hit a youngie in their way” - and they waited patiently for it to happen. Mallory was the first one to appear for dinnertime and she completely ignored the junk food, but when the rest of the students came in that was a battlefield. After a few minutes they caught a youngling teleporting without the rest noticing, the full chicken nugget container in her hands.

“Shit girl, that's not fair,” Queenie complained jokingly along Madison's annoyed huff. “You're using your power to win.”

“I don't know what are you talking about sister,” Raleigh laughed openly, gesturing them with her fingers to hand over the cash from the bet. “I was this lucky before you were born; now hand the money my good witches, mama has to buy a laptop.”

The three witches looked at the oldest of them with something similar to awe, maybe because they didn't see her that relaxed in forever.

Although they still missed how her eyes didn't spark with that happiness she seemed to feel.