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babyboibucky · 4 years ago

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The Match - Part 3

Pairing: CEO!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky’s becoming extra horny around you in the office.

Word Count: 2,697

Warnings: still smut, boss x employee affair, unprotected sex everywhere, hints at misogyny???

A/N: And a mini series was born 😂 no but honestly, I didn’t expect for parts 1 and 2 of The Match to receive such amazing feedback 😭 I really enjoy reading everyone’s reaction to this series and trust me, all comments keep giving me ideas. Thank you all so much!!!!!!! 😘😘😘 and btw, this part isn’t their promotion “celebration” because that will have a chapter on its own. Long story short, that will be pure porn with no plot at all so stay tuned for that 😂

The Match Masterlist || MAIN MASTERLIST

It’s been a rollercoaster ride since you matched with James— Bucky, on Tinder. Maybe not a literal rollercoaster ride but with how Bucky had you bouncing on his cock as he sat on the couch, or that one time he asked you to sit on his face inside his car, it was a ride nonetheless and an exhilarating one at that.

Despite your relationship with him, the both of you surprisingly managed to keep things professional when there was work involved. Of course there were times when quickies in the office took place, given that Bucky was fucking insatiable (let’s all admit it, so were you). Work was work and you excelled at being the head of your department, but once office hours are over, you excelled more at giving Bucky head.

Oftentimes you found yourself worrying about getting caught. You’ve always been careful but lately, Bucky seemed to be slipping up. He just couldn’t seem to get his hands off of you and he was becoming more and more obvious. You were pretty good at being discreet but sometimes, it was hard not to react to Bucky when he would look at you with a naughty glint in his eyes, a smug smirk tugging at his lips as he watched you present. He’d tilt his head sometimes as he looked at you, lifting a brow as he smirked whenever he was impressed.

You ended up stuttering when he gave you that look one time. It was proud and it made your chest swell and your pussy throb. He rewarded you that night in his office by making you cum on his face twice.

That look was going to be the death of you and he was giving it to you now as you entered the conference room for the monthly mancom meeting. Bucky eyed you as you went around the desk, lifting a brow and pulling the empty chair next to him, commanding you to sit beside him without having to say a word.

You cleared your throat and pulled the chair, noticing how Bucky eyed your ass before you sat down.

“Is everyone here?” He asked after ogling your backside for a good five seconds.

All the department heads affirmed their attendance and soon enough, the meeting began with the HR manager reporting first. Lights were shut off and as soon as the report was projected onto the wall, Bucky began his little game. You were paying attention to the slides being presented until you felt Bucky’s foot nudge your ankle, hooking around it to slightly open up your legs.

You side-eyed him and subtly shook your head. He had never done this in public, at least, not during meetings. So you weren’t sure why he was being so frisky now, placing a hand on your thigh. You grabbed his hand and moved it away gently before slightly moving your seat away from Bucky, crossing your legs in the process.

“What do you think Mister Barnes?” The HR manager asked.

All heads turned towards Bucky, who obviously wasn’t paying attention provided that his hand was trying to sneak back onto your thigh. He cleared his throat and straightened up on his seat, fixing his tie before pursing his lips.

“I’m sorry, can you please repeat that?” He asked and you fought the urge to snort.

“I was wondering if we can hold another seminar about workplace etiquette.” She said.

Bucky hummed, “Do we have problematic employees?” He asked curiously.

The HR manager sighed, a blush creeping up to her face. “There have been rumors going around the office about employees engaging in...lewd acts within the workplace. I thought that we should revisit the topic about workplace code of ethics.” She explained.

You ended up in a coughing fit, quickly apologizing and reasoning out that you were having allergies today. Bucky tensed in his seat but managed to remain calm. He stole a quick glance at you before turning back to the HR manager.

“And have we identified these employees?” He asked, rubbing a hand on his chin. A nervous habit of his, you noticed.

This was what you have been worrying about! Bucky has been fucking you around the office and now everyone was catching on to it. And although you wanted to blame Bucky for this, you knew you were just as much to blame. Damn you and your hormones!

The HR manager shook her head, much to your and Bucky’s relief. “No sir, but some employees have been noticing and hearing things, especially after office hours. Janet for instance, filed a report last week about hearing hushed whispers from the pantry, followed by the creaking sound of the table. The following day, shards of someone’s mug were found in the trash. There was an assumption that there might be employees behaving inappropriately.”

“Oh my god, I’m close. Bucky I’m—“

Bucky’s hand clamped around your mouth as he shushed you, hearing footsteps approach the pantry. You stilled as you nervously watched shadows move beneath the door, but of course, this didn’t stop Bucky from snapping his hips against yours.

His thrusts were slow and languid, but he slammed back in with such force that made the pantry table scratch against the floor. Once the footsteps faded, Bucky wasted no time to get back to fucking you. He lifted your legs up and rested the back of your ankles against his shoulders, slightly bending down over you so he can angle his cock to perfectly hit that one sweet spot.

A single, powerful thrust sent you reeling, your hands finding purchase on the sides of the table.

“Cum, baby. Cum.” Bucky growled.

Another thrust made you gasp out loud, feeling the head of Bucky’s cock nudge against your cervix. One hand reached for his bicep, your nails digging into his dress shirt while the other reached back for the edge of the table only to knock off the mug resting on top.

You made a face when you heard it crash against the floor. The mug was soon forgotten when Bucky leaned down to kiss you, his tongue sliding into your mouth as his hand reached down to rub your clit.

You wiped the sweat on your forehead upon remembering that incident. Fucking Janet just had to file a report. It was after office hours, for fuck’s sake! Who cares what employees do after their shift?!

“I see.” Bucky responded, fixing his suit. “Okay. I approve of the seminar. Who’s next?” He asked, quickly changing the topic as if it was no big deal.

The head of the Finance department began with his presentation and just like that, Bucky returned his hand on top of your thigh, prying your legs open. You turned to him with a look of disbelief on your face. He was acting as if there wasn’t any close call earlier. You couldn’t believe this man, sure he was hot as hell, but you weren’t giving in to him. Not today, not when the both of you were almost caught.

The entire mancom meeting was pretty eventful, with Bucky teasing your legs with his hand despite your half-hearted protests. You hated how Bucky was able to familiarize himself with your body and how it reacted to him. Your eyes might be saying no but with how your legs eventually spread on their own, Bucky knew you were desperate for him too.

It was an hour past your shift when you received an e-mail from Bucky with the subject being “Report”. Thinking it was one his follow-up e-mails (Bucky is an impatient man when it comes to the submission of reports and you weren’t an exception) you opened it immediately and choked on your spit when a photo of his dick showed up on your desktop. You started clicking around in an attempt to close his e-mail, but instead of hitting the “x” button, you ended up maximizing the window instead.

“Jesus fucking christ!” You cursed and covered your monitor with your hands as you frantically looked around the office.

It was like a fucking jump scare, like one of those computer pranks asking you to concentrate on a dot before a scary photo would pop out. Except that it was Bucky’s dick that appeared. A dick scare.

Fortunately, you were the only one left in your area since pretty much everyone else scrambled out of the office as soon as work hours were over. It was a Friday after all.

You sighed in relief and quickly scrolled down to see the message beneath the photo of Bucky’s dick.

Need you in my office in ten.

P.S. Bring the report I asked from you the other day.

Best,

Bucky Barnes

Who sends an unsolicited dick pic through e-mail followed by a work reminder? And the signature? It was the cherry on top. Bucky Barnes was something else. Sweet jesus, you really couldn’t believe this man.

Grabbing your report, you marched your way to the elevator and headed up to Bucky’s office. Seeing that his floor was empty, you didn’t even bother knocking on his door and simply barged in.

“I can’t belie— what the fuck?” You called out when you were welcomed with the sight of Bucky leaning back on his chair, his cock out for the world to see as he gently stroked it.

“Need your pretty mouth around my cock, baby.” Bucky cooed with half-lidded eyes.

You huffed out a humorless laugh and shook your head, “I’m not sucking your cock, Bucky.” You refused and walked over to his table, slamming your report on top of it before walking away, but not before stealing another look at his majestic cock.

“Are you mad?” Bucky asked but he was smirking with amusement. He was giving you that look again but you were having none of it tonight.

You stood in front of his desk, keeping a safe distance away from him. Crossing your arms over your chest, you scowled at Bucky and tried your best not to let your eyes fall down to his cock again. Which by the way, he continued to stroke.

“For someone as smart as you, I can’t believe you’re so fucking dense.” You said with irritation when Bucky didn’t seem to understand why you were agitated.

He licked his lips, bucking up his hips when he squeezed the base of his cock. Bucky let out a delicious grunt as he continued to stroke himself. As much as you were salivating at the sight of Bucky’s cock— tip red and swollen, begging to be sucked— you didn’t want to give in.

“You’re fucking priceless, James.” You said, exasperated and turned around, heading towards the door.

You were about to reach onto the door knob when you heard the sound of a zipper followed by the wheels of Bucky’s chair screeching against the floor before a pair of hands grabbed at your waist. Turning you around, you were met with Bucky’s worried face.

“Shit, you’re really mad. Talk to me?” He pleaded, eyes apologetic as he took a step back, urging you to speak up.

“You might want to take a seat because I’ve got quite a list.” You said.

Bucky obeyed and returned to his chair immediately, sitting upright as he looked at you with doe eyes. If you weren’t so mad, you would’ve melted at the sight of him like that. And the Bucky Barnes? The CEO? Obeying you like a good little boy? Huh, what an interesting concept. You mentally took note of a certain kink that you might enjoy. But for now, you were mad at him and you were going to make him understand why.

“Number one, I don’t particularly enjoy it when you tease me in front of everyone else. We talked about staying professional when there’s work involved and what you did during the mancom was definitely not professional.” You told him.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t hold back not when your ass looked so fuckin’ tight in that skirt of yours. Can you blame me?” Bucky almost whined.

“Keep it in your pants, Barnes. I’m not yet done.” You reminded him and went over your second point.

“Number two, we almost got caught to the point of the HR deciding to hold a seminar on workplace ethics! Do you know how awkward it would be for me to sit there and listen to scenarios about office misconduct? Most of which we’ve probably done. I’d sweat like a whore in church!” You hissed.

Which scenarios could that be? Fucking inside the janitor’s supply closet? Check. Doing the nasty in one of the bathroom cubicles? Check that twice. Giving a blowjob beside the fax machine during lunch break? Triple check that shit.

“And oh, you sent me a dick pic using your work e-mail! You do know that the IT can access our computers right? Almost gave me a heart attack when it flashed on my monitor.” You asked in a huff.

Bucky snickered, “Are you forgetting that I’m the CEO? Baby, I can easily clean up our mess.” He reassured and stood up, approaching you.

You shook your head, “That’s exactly the point, Bucky. You are the CEO and I’m an employee. You may not understand it but I’m scared. If we get caught, it’s over for me. Whether you have it cleaned up or not, I’d still be the one at risk here. You’ll never be in the same position as I am. People won’t call you names if we get caught. No matter what happens, I’d always get the short end of the stick.”

You didn’t mean to be all serious, talking about the possible misogynistic outcome of your relationship with Bucky. As much as you enjoyed it, it still scared the living daylights out of you. Some were already spreading rumors about your promotion, getting caught would only add fuel to the fire.

Bucky sighed and nodded, “I’m sorry. I didn’t try to understand where you were coming from.” He genuinely apologized.

“If it scares you that much, then let’s make it official.”

You deadpanned at him, “Make what official, Bucky?” You asked, eyebrow raised in curiosity.

Bucky shrugged and motioned his hand between the both of you, “This...us.” He simply said.

You scoffed, “Tell the entire office that we’re fucking every chance we get? Are you out of your mind?”

Bucky ran a hand through his cropped hair, “Not like that. Look, we’ve been at it for what? Two? Three months now? We might as well make this into an official relationship.”

You blushed at Bucky’s suggestion. Sure, you practically jumped at the opportunity to fuck your boss when he asked you. But were you an easy bitch in general? Of course not, even with how thirsty you were for him, you still had a little bit of appreciation for the old-fashioned ways.

Pushing Bucky’s chest away, you shook your head at him. “That’s now how relationships work, Bucky. You can’t fuck your way into my heart.”

Bucky laughed and bit his lip, “Fine. Then I’ll do it properly.” He said so easily you were starting to wonder whether he was fucking with you.

You narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously, “I don’t believe you.” You said.

“You will, baby. I’ll make sure of that. We’ll do it old-school.” He said, caressing your cheek.

You were caught off guard but you didn’t want to get your hopes up. Bucky had been an amazing lover and in the past months you’ve fucked, he treated you with respect and took good care of you. He brought you dinner, drove you home and texted you good night. Sometimes he’d text you during the weekends too.

“Old-school it is then.” You shrugged as if it was no big deal but oh, it was a big deal.

Bucky nodded with a grin, “Okay. But...” he trailed, his smile turning upside down in deep thought.

“Does that mean we’d stop fucking each other for the mean time?” He asked.

You snickered, “I said you can’t fuck your way into my heart, not my pussy. So sit down and let me suck your cock.”

Everything Bucky Tag List:

@ddowii @jessou893 @stealapizzamyheart @bagelofthelord @mxnt @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @jeeperky @ohladymacbeth @wildflowergubler @supraveng @twinerd14 @buckysmar @bakugouswh0r3 @sweetcoldharmony @wintersfilm @charminivy @amelia-song-pond @iamvalentinaconstanza @mcubqrnes @i’m-squished @tcc-gizmachine @sipsteacasually @prettyintopeerpressure @weloveyasmin @est19xxshit @bloodhon3yx @dressed-in-prada @lizette50 @thatfangirl42 @sunflowerbunny2 @unmagically @okiegirl24 @sugarpunch-princess @enlyume @vvipgotbb @slimeyderp @lyoongx @just-deka @nobody-will @jaziona92 @elisebuitron @dpaccione @suvikamahes98blr @buckybarneshairpullingkink @earthtonav @x-judyjude-x @nani-kenobi @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @belladonnabarnes @iloveangstposts @weenersoldierr @asemistablehundredyearoldman @reidbuck @lizzarooni @girlfriday007 @5-seconds-of-mendes @whoth3hellisbucky @bonkywobble @lost-in-the-stars03 @its-yasbxtch @twinerd14 @bluehour-553 @old-enough-to-know-better73 @aikeia

The Match Special Tags:

@marvelslag @weird-mumbling @propertyofpoeandbucky @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @mostly-marvel-musings @squishybabies @megzdoodle @little-baby-vixen @annathesillyfriend @xhollycowx @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @5-seconds-of-mendes @gogolucky13 @countonthesun @iloveshawnieboi @learisa @borikenlove

#bbbwrites #the match #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut

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bifairywife · 2 years ago

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hii i saw your post about your winx rewrite and i’m so excited for it!! i saw that you are going to be mixing pairs and straying from canon and that makes me really intrigued(because it did feel too straight and forced at times imo). i wanna know your thoughts on the canon ships, so would you mind ranking them and saying what you dislike (or like) about them?

ahhh thank you so much for the support <33 [sending a big hug your way] if anyone else is interested and wants to check it out, it’s from this post

i have some specific plans for where i want it to go so it’ll def take me a while to post it. and truth be told: i was mostly hesitant to admit the part of mixing up the pairs (because there’s a mix of rarepairs), so i'm so glad you’re interested in the idea!

so for anyone that’ll be reading this post i need you to be open-minded bout this post, it’s all just opinions. i'll be dumping a lot of thoughts about the canon ships cause i have been holding these things for. too. long-

so! first stop, to give my ranking of canon ships from the ship i like the most to least, they go as: (1) tecna and timmy, (2) stella and brandon, (3) flora and helia, (4) aisha and nabu, (5) musa and riven, (6) bloom and sky

i have the biggest soft spot for the earlier seasons so most of my knowledge is sticking out up to the believix season (the farthest i'll probably reach is sirenix). i'll be grouping my thoughts to refer to the canon ships in general and then i'll go to each ship one at a time (i'm sorry – this is gonna be long i have no self-control)

in general:

what i like – i find it unique for winx to use the specialists as sort of an “accessory” for the winx girls. like a ken to a barbie. cause yeah! this is about the girls, not them. it's unique in a sense that a lot of other pieces of media at the time really limits female characters (especially if she’s “the only girl” in the team) as simply “the love interest” so this switch for ALL the pairs was refreshing in its own right

what i don’t like – it fell short with the fact that each girl is paired with literally the guy version of themselves?? for majority of the canon pairings, it felt like the writers just copy+paste the personality of the girls and just slapped the design that aesthetically matches the guys their respective gf. tecna gets a tech-whiz dude. stella gets the most handsome and charming one. flora gets the pacifist and soft-spoken one. bloom gets the prince to her princess. in terms of personality pairing, i think the most big brain the writers did were for musa and riven plus aisha and nabu but that's sadly just about it just a third of the whole group

what i like – in extension to the first point, the fact that the girls save the guys more often. like heck yeah ladies!! it honestly would’ve been complete if the show let the girls carry their bf (cause i don’t ever remember this happening tbh). what’s the point of having magic if you can’t have a boost of energy to increase your strength?

what i don’t like – THE OTHER WOMAN ARC ALMOST EACH COUPLE WENT THROUGH. bloom and sky? diaspro (technically some would even debate that it was bloom but this is based of what the show’s perspective is telling us). stella and brandon? mitzi. musa and riven? darcy. i actually thought flora and helia would be safe but NO, there was krystal [cue me sobbing in the corner]. the only exceptions were aisha and nabu because of [coughs] lady death [coughs] as well as timmy and tecna

NOW, breaking down in detail for each canon ship let’s goooo

(1) tecna and timmy

LEAST PROBLEMATIC COUPLE GOES TO THEM

aside from being super awkward beans, they eventually got over that and learned to communicate better and i love that for them <33

the thing i dislike about them is that they’re too alike. like not just brother and sister, or twins,,,, but clones. sure tecna is more mature and in a way much more self-assured compared to timmy but my point still stands. maybe it’s just me but i've always noticed that the couples that are “too alike” don’t last long. sure there’s security and all but long-term? not gonna be much room for growth because they’re too comfortable and complacent with each other

i do salute how dedicated they are for each other. especially when timmy couldn’t accept that tecna “died” like,,,,, just wow,,,,,,, this man had ZERO proof to hang on to but he worked so hard to FIND a proof

(2) stella and brandon

i LOVE LOVE LOVEEEE the support they each have for each other – i super appreciate the fact that they support each other so much (brandon with stella’s passion for fashion, and stella overlooking brandon’s status of being a non-royal)

and that episode where stella was turned into a monster and brandon still loves her despite of it cause he knows her true self? permanently altered the brain of lil me when i first watched it, they pulled the biggest beauty and beast so flawlessly

now what i dislike about them. maybe it’s just me but the way the openly flirted with other people kinda made me go “????”. or maybe it's the metas getting to me but anyways flirting with people that isn't each other is mehhh but recieving compliments from others i totally love that for them. i love how confident and self-assured they were but i just don’t see that type of behavior not having consequences the longer they’re together. i personally envision stella as monogamous given her parents divorce and her dad remarrying. i’m pro-polyamory, but i can only picture stella being a flirt when she’s single (she can be a major flirt with her s/o tho just to be clear)

(3) flora and helia

it might not be the same for a lot of other fans but personally,,, they are THE MOST romantic pairing of all the couples – flora giving helia flowers, helia doing those funky flying origami cranes, the pOEms like yes pls i want that,,, i always see them cuddling or leaning to each other almost every time they’re so soft for each other

maybe it’s because i have a bias for flora but my biggest problem with them is that they barely have any screen time ?? there is sooooo little canon content (at least from the show) to use to get to know their relationship better that isn’t on the surface level

another issue i have is how dense helia is ?? there is absolutely ZERO reason for him not to introduce flora to krystal as his girlfriend. i know guys can be dense with girls having a crush on them (it’s literally what happened between him and flora that flora did the “first move” for him to “get a hint”) but why didn’t he say flora is his gf from the get-go? it's probably for the drama but i seriously can’t imagine that mr.romantic here didn’t introduce his girlfriend properly. the reason i'm using this is because with the little content we have and since krystal is the only girl we saw helia introduce to flora, it begs the question that would helia introduce flora to other people as just “his friend” ?? like what about his parents ?? or saladin ?? labels are important, it gives security and it makes sure the people involved are on the same page

(4) aisha and nabu

athletic magical girl and gifted magical boy? POWER COUPLE RIGHT HERE – they had soooo much potential

if nabu didn’t die, i definitely would have ranked them higher. but i do love a good angst so they deserve the fourth spot

the arranged marriage was THEIR trope and they owned it, they worked it out and eventually fell in love BUT

THE STALKING – JUST NOOOO. that made me so uncomfortable. that wasn’t cool or making sure they’re safe or just getting to know them through observation (even though this was nabu’s “case”) type of vibes it was CREEPY. the time they had together wasn’t enough for them to build genuine trust, it felt rushed to me. the execution could have been better, and the literal execution (the death part) could have come later

(5) musa and riven

infairness to them, riven is the only specialist that was involved with a witch before being official with a fairy so extra points for drama

the fact that they’re so flawed and openly argue is what makes them so intriguing, because shows at the time are so intent on showing the “perfect relationships” to the point it’s unrealistic. they got him to see the error of his ways so he and musa make up in the end

the problem is that the writers ABUSED the fighting. it came to the point that it’s the only defining feature of their relationship aside from riven’s major beef with this older blond guy that musa was attracted to (i would beat that dude’s ass i don’t care if it was a kid’s show) AND the fact that riven took guitar lesson just for her. the fighting became SHALLOW and TIRING and DRAINING. it became so numbing and i'm not even part of it, i'm just a witness

the fighting and apologizing and making-up was a realistic take on relationships that the writers did right on the early seasons. the later seasons tho? they threw that in the trash. but to think of it, it kinda of felt like they were both holding the short end of the stick. musa has to be the forgiving and patient one at every single turn which can’t possibly be good for her emotional and mental health while riven doesn’t feel completely safe enough with her to share his problems so he feels inadequate with being unable to properly communicate his feelings

i remember there’s even an extensive meta on how toxic their relationship is. there was a point that with musa’s mom dying when she was young, she didn’t have the proper role model or someone that decently explained to her how relationships work so she had this extreme and idealized version of romance that really put riven on the road to failure when it comes to their relationship

(6) bloom and sky

i swear it’s not because of the “i don’t really like the main couple i just have a preference for the bg/side couples” mindset BUT literally every other couple has a much more interesting dynamic than they do

full confession,,,, i just don’t like them as a couple,,,, at all. INDIVIDUALLY i like bloom and sky is alright, but as a couple they’re just not working for me

i guess the only thing i like about them is design-wise, they look good when they stand next to each other. i'm a major romanogers/clintasha and kim/ron shipper so redhead gal and blond boi have a soft spot to me

my biggest issue with sky are the LIES. homeboi didn’t admit he was engaged ?? who does that ?? yeah yeah for the drama and that’s just for politics and whatever but that’s STILL cheating tho. and what hurts more is that diaspro became this bitter ex for the rest of her career here like,,,,, they had a unique character (as far as i know, she’s the only gem fairy in the whole show) crumpled down this low and it was sure a bad rep to show to kids that break-ups literally BREAK you just [sounds of frustration being heard from miles away]

my biggest issue with bloom is she literally knows NOTHING about sky. i distinctly remember sky had an amnesia arc around the sirenix/harmonix season and bloom can barely tell him anything about his homeplanet or his family and her focus was all “do you remember anything about me?” like that,,,, was just not right,,,,, that was the weakest and worst amnesia trope in cartoon history and to add salt to that they were ALMOST gonna get married, like can you imagine? having very limited knowledge about your soon-to-be-spouse,,,, gee-

i’ll give them this tho, they kind of had something alllllmost interesting going on in the movies ngl

you finally reached the end! how lovely and also thank you for your patience with reading this

now as a treat, i'll be letting you in on a little something:

i had a previous anon that asked for who are/hints about the endgame couples in my reboot. i deleted that post cause i dropped the endgame ships with ZERO context but since i have posted two works related to my reboot, here are some of the endgame couples in my reboot that i feel comfortable to share :3

bloom and icy

flora and riven (i posted a fic about them on ao3 – warning for your heart, it might break)

sky and brandon (i posted a fic about them on ao3 – warning for slight/implied homophobia)

there’s definitely more couples soon ;3 but these three are my absolute, for sure, endgames~

lemme know your thoughts, my inbox is always open and so is my DM <33

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sweetestlamb · 4 years ago

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Leave the Door Open

Summary: He doesn’t hate having someone in his house. Having her in his house but he knows he should.

Author Notes: Vincenzo was a roller coaster this weekend and I LOVED it every adrenaline filled, angst inducing moment of it all. They are pining in 4K and I had to write this. I am salivating waiting for their first kiss. I hope it’s crazy and impulsive and filled with ineedyouithoughtilostyou energy, it might be cliché but I am a simple woman. Until then I present more domestic(sometimes horny) Chayenzo moments this was very freeform I went in with nothing and just let my brain go crazy. There’s some angst again LOL oops

It’s unnervingly easy to get used to, having another person in his space despite his years of solitude and purposely pushing others away. Women had tried to sleep over before, sweat clinging to their naked skin as they coyly brushed a finger under the sheet trying to entice him to let them stay. It never worked. Not once. Sex was one thing- he loved being in control and hearing his name breathless on their lips as they writhed and screamed on his silk sheets- but sleeping over was a completely different animal and he was never stupid enough to give them that much leeway. It was dangerous for them to think this was something more than it was, he had an itch and they could scratch it. There were no feelings involved, at least from his end.

So when she showed up on his doorsteps and the urge to drag her into his arms overwhelmed him that should have been his first warning, danger danger do not proceed.

But she pushed past him before he could close the door in her face and unfortunately at the same moment he had a spasm in his hand and hesitated for just one second allowing her enough time to bulldoze her way into his apartment. He had contemplated kicking her still out but the look on her face stopped him in his tracks, she looked scared- ridiculously so. Even as she stuttered out nonsense about the suspicious hoteliers who wanted to harm her and made a show of swinging her bag as she told the story of the man breaking the lock on her hotel room, he could see the slight tremble in her fingers.

She was always a lightning rod of energy but that night it had been different. Her movements had been panicked and the urge to protect her overrode his self preservation.

It was a clear erroneous mistake on his part.

She’s comfortable around him, that much becomes clear all too fast when he wakes up to her swaying in the kitchen over a boiling pot on the stove- some kind of soup, he can smell the aroma of miso wafting across the room- but what catches his attention is her clothes, or lack of.

There is miles and miles of bare skin from his angle on the ground, her loose sleep shorts barely covering her legs and he raises an eyebrow as he takes in the top half of her body. Her wet hair drips onto the flowing pristine white shirt that is peeking out from beneath a cardigan. She’s taken a shower. Just moments ago, she had been naked in his shower, water cascading down her slim body curving over her breasts and sliding down her flat stomach in long slow streams until it reached her wet....

“Oh you’re awake! I made soup, let’s eat before work.” She brightly calls out to him, using his ragged oven mittens to transfer the steaming pot over to the low rising table in the center of his tiny living room.

His eyes savor her every move as she flounces over to him in that annoying way that he is starting to find cute. She carefully folds her legs beneath her bottom as she joins him on the ground, her smooth makeup free face coming into his line of vision. He’d always assumed that it was her lip tint making her mouth so red and plush and so goddamn alluring, but even bare the twin petals are too much for his sleep laden brain to handle. He sits up curling his blanket in his lap, balling up the material to better hide his little morning problem. He almost hopes this is a dream, it wouldn’t be the first time she visited him in one. They usually ended in sinuous screams and naked limbs twisting but sometimes they were like this, just simple moments that made him wake up with an ache in his chest. Those dreams terrified him the most.

“Yah! Are you listening to anything I’m saying?” Her voice cuts through the arousal thick fog in his brain, light pats on his cheek rousing him from his untoward thoughts. “What are you thinking about anyway? Why are you so distracted?” Her eyes narrow as she glances at him, slowly descending down his body almost reaching his groin and he flushes red coughing loudly before quickly moving closer to the table, hiding his lap entirely from her wandering eyes.

Their eyes meet in a tense lock and she looks curious and something darker that he has been seeing in her eyes the more they work together. He watches swallowing a groan as she leisurely licks her lips chasing the drops of soup that have escaped.

They don’t have time for this. There is so much to do and a part of him fears that she is using him as a distraction because she’s scared about her break-in, despite his constant warnings it had been her first real experience with how far Babel was willing to go to silence them, the first time she was in the line of fire. He had been her “hero” and that was evidently confusing her, making her think he was something better than he was. Contrary to the lie he had cowardly told her, he was nothing but a murderer. Once she saw him for what he truly was, she would want nothing to do with him- she was still a good person after all underneath her armor and brazen attitude.

He wants her and that is exactly why he can’t have her.

Those thoughts knock any desire promptly out of his body, he couldn’t forget that he wasn’t worthy of love.

Problem finally resolved he stands up, “Sorry I’m not a morning person. I need to use the bathroom, thank you for the breakfast. I’ll be back.” He can feel her eyes on him the entire way to the bathroom, those huge doe-like eyes that make him want to be a better man, but surely it’s too late for someone like him.

Right?

They had separated after work, him meeting up with Mr. Cho secretly to discuss the fate of the gold, it was another long conversation that left them with more complications rather than solutions and he can see the frustration on the other man’s face. He will have to keep an eye on that in case it becomes something problematic.

Something he has to handle, regrettably.

He yanks at the stiff ball of his necktie loosening it as he pushes his key into the lock and presses the door open, he hears her laughter before he sees her almost tripping on her black high heels carelessly discarded at the door. He pauses with a rumble, “First she breaks into my house and now she almost kills me at my own front door,” with a sigh he straightens the shoes, slipping off his own and stepping into his house slippers.

His heart lurches at the first sight of her, she’s wrapped up in the blanket he had placed around her quivering shoulders the night of the break in, only her head visible from the swaddle. She’s watching some variety show he has never watched but knows is popular here, a can of beer thankfully on a coaster on the table and too many empty bottles of soju. She turns to look at him when she senses his presence, that also disarms him because he is a man who can go undetected if he pleases and he had not made a sound upon his entry, yet she still knew he was here.

Then she makes him weak in the knees when she shoots a soft smile his way, her rosy lips slightly upturned but its the glow in her eyes that captivates him, those dark orbs come to life when they land on him as if they were waiting for him to flush with life and vibrancy.

“You’re home!” She calls out, still beaming at him and he stands frozen in the line of fire. She casually pats the cushion next to her, motioning him over as high pitched loud voices patter out from his TV.

Home. He has hardly ever used that word himself, long given up on the idea of having a place to call home. But seeing her like this, a fire that had been snuffed out a long time ago starts to rekindle, a desire he had long suppressed starts to bubble back to the surface.

I should leave.

He thinks foolishly, but he finds himself walking over to her, skin pebbling when a warm small hand reaches out and drags him the rest of the way from his suspended form.

“What took you so long? Why didn’t you answer my calls? I wanted you to get us some soju.” She snuggles into his arm as if this is normal for them, and with an urgent awakening he realizes that it is. Constant and casual touches flash in his memory, his hand on her shoulder as he escorts her way, her hands on his back as she carries his intoxicated body, arms wrapped around each other as they walk away from the scum that is Babel. His hands always find her body as if it’s a heat seeking missile and not once has she pushed him away, on contrary she moves into his touches and returns them just as frequently. As if they belong to each other, as if they are each other’s to touch.

What game exactly are they playing?

He has never lost before but suddenly it feels like his defeat is imminent.

“You already drank all the soju in the fridge? Are you an alcoholic? Should I have you admitted?” He grumbles trying to diffuse the situation but she chuckles at his words, resting her head on his shoulder now as she peers up at him with glossy eyes. His control wavers, fluttering like a flag in the wind.

“After everything I’ve done that’s the thing you want to get me admitted for?” She teases giggling into his collarbone and her breath ignites a flame on his skin that spreads like wildfire. “Oh. Why are you so red?”

He jolts up, only feeling marginally guilty when she falls head first onto the couch with his sudden disappearance. When she glares up at him he has to smother a smile at the cute affronted look on her face, he is a mafia member he shouldn’t use words like “cute” but he’s constantly breaking his rules because of her.

He escapes to his bedroom, surprisingly pigeon feather free the window securely closed for once and he looks back towards the living room with a smile, she was full of surprises. With a groan he pops his shoulder, letting the day’s tension melt away as he takes off his suit piece by piece, breathing easier when he unknots the tie and tosses it to his bed. When he is down to his boxers, he ambles over to his dresser taking out his silk pajamas- she loved to tease him about them but after running a sneaky hand over his arm, she has admitted that they felt nice on your skin- he had desperately wanted her to keep going. Dragging the bottoms on first he slides on the top, fingers on the top button when his bedroom door bursts open making him still his movement.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you that I ordered fried chicken that’s why I needed soj...nnngghh” her words trail off into nonsense as she sputters at him, eyes immediately locked on the lower half of his body and he almost laughs at her wide eyed stare before she walks closer, a hand outreached as she penetrates his skin with her unblinking stare. He can see the red blush spread across her bridge of her nose and he wonders if it’s from the alcohol she has consumed or if it’s something else?

She answers his questions with another step toward him, unflinching beneath his hard stare and he instinctively recoils, stepping back out of her reach but she double steps until they are inches apart, her fingertips hovering above his abs and then she closes the distance, stroking the ridges on his stomach making him groan, unable to contain the deep sound and he grabs her hand.

He can’t let his go any further.

“What are you doing? Haven’t you heard of knocking? What if I was naked?”

The blush covers her face completely at his words and he watches fascinated as her pupils dilate and a hungry look flashes across her pretty face.

She doesn’t look scandalized at the idea. He has seen that look many times. From her, more times than he wants to confront.

“Cha-young.” He states her name firmly, making her eyes snap away from his body at least this time she looks ashamed of herself for ogling him, but not tremendously so. It’s not lost on him that she hasn’t tried to leave the room once. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”

It’s a warning. For both of them really.

It can tell by the twitch in her eyebrow she sees it as a challenge, without a word she grabs him by his shoulder tugging him closer until they are flush, her soft breasts pressing into his firm stomach and he groans when he realizes he can feel the flesh too vividly, she’s not wearing bra. Fuck.

“Who said I couldn’t finish it?” She retorts peering up at him with those gleaming eyes, too many emotions swirling around for him to pinpoint what is the driving force behind her actions.

His arms wrap around her waist, bringing her closer despite there being no room felt to do so. She moans prettily at his tight grip swaying unevenly into him.

She’s drunk.

He suddenly recalls all the empty bottles of soju on the table and he loosens his hold, he refuses to take advantage of her no matter how willing she seems right now, it’s the alcohol distorting her thoughts. He releases her waist and puts his hands between them.

“You aren’t in your right mind right now, we should stop.”

She shakes her head disagreeing, “I got drunk because I couldn’t stop thinking about you. The alcohol didn’t make me want you, it made me do something about it.”

He blinks at the comment feeling like her words are intoxicating him. His thoughts are incoherent.

“I know you want me too. Don’t push me away.” She pleads and he feels his resolve crumbling as he watches her bite at her lower lip, wringing her hands between them. She seems...nervous. Scared of his rejection.

It’s not fitting on the Cha-young he has grown to know and l...like.

With a sigh he steps forward much to her apparent shock, wrapping his arms around her in an awkward hug, complete with too rough pats on her back and he wonders if he did the right thing when she stands frozen in his arms but then she laughs brokenly before sniffling and burrowing her head into his chest. He can feel the wetness pooling on his skin, he hugs her tighter ignoring the voice in his head warning him that he’s letting her get too close.

it’s already much too late anyway.

He lets her cry on him until he hears admittedly gross sniffles and he starts to fear for his skin, tears are one thing but mucus is another. He might like her but there is still a line, snot is his line.

Thankfully, when he drags her away from him her nose isn’t running, just large tears streaming down her face. Looking at that face, he would probably allow her to drip snot on him; she looks so pitiful- it’s probably the first time she has allowed herself to feel her emotions and not put on a brave front for him.

He longs to tell her that it isn’t necessary, ever. He doesn’t need her to put on a show, he will accept her no matter what there is no version of her that isn’t perfectly imperfect in his eyes.

But he can never say those words to her.

“Let me put my shirt on and I’ll meet you in the living room.” He pushes her lightly, playfully glaring and shooing her away when she doesn’t immediately leave taking one final moment to ogle his body. He tries not to preen and fails horribly, it’s hard not to when the woman he wants so badly clearly wants him too- at least physically.

She whispers something that sounds like, “You don't have to,” and he raises an eyebrow watching her leave finally, with a long suffering sigh he stares down at his overly interested friend willing it away before dragging on his shirt.

it’s going to be a long night.

He can smell the delicious aroma of fried chicken when he finally exits the bedroom, she offers a leg to him as soon as he’s close enough and he easily accepts the food with a bite, letting her feed him until all that remains is the bone.

“You eat so well.” She praises and he flushes in embarrassment at her words, or more accurately at the feeling that swells up in his stomach at her deceptively maternal words. Unaware of his thoughts she continues feeding him until the food is all gone and she is looking at him with a satisfied grin.

He tries not to become too excited when she licks the grease from her fingers, before putting the bones on a plate.

“Here, have some wine. The storekeeper said it was popular in Italy.”

She places the rounded curve of the wine glass at his lip and he inhales the intoxicating scent, Barolo, he can already smell the sweetness of the Nebbiolo grapes that have been long fermenting, it’s not a cheap bottle of wine or easy to acquire, not even for him while living in their country of origin. She must have looked all over to find that particular brand here in Korea.

He stares at her with a softness he has never felt for another, not even her late father. This is bigger and more consuming, the respect he felt for the man seems to pale in comparison to the bundle of emotions he feels for his daughter.

“Thank you.”

She simply stares, before returning his gaze and he accepts the wine glass by the stem tipping the deep colored liquid into his mouth, flavors dancing on his taste buds and he moans freely at the delicious taste.

They are already sitting closely, too much so for just coworkers but she moves nearer at his subconscious response, their knees knock into each other.

“Is it that good?” She whispers breathless, staring at his mouth. Again.

He nods dumbly, freezing when he feels her hand on his thigh.

“Let me see.”

He watches in a daze as she leans closer to him, his eyes following her face as she draws nearer and then he closes his eyes, tired of fighting this magnetic connection between them, he’s only a man and a bad one at that, he’s not good enough to keep pushing her away. He waits impatiently to feel the swell of her lips on his and blinks his eyes open when he feels a sudden weight on the wine glass instead, her lips curl around the ridge where his lips had just been. Taking his hand in hers, she lifts the glass and tilts it back into her mouth swallowing the liquid in a deep gulp before she pushes it back towards him, with a loud smack of her lips before moving back to her spot on the cushion.

“Mmmmm, you’re right that’s really good.”

His tongue is heavy in his mouth and his brain isn’t functioning well enough to give a response beyond staring at her with his mouth gaped.

“What’s wrong were you expecting something else? Did I get your hopes up? It’s not nice is it? ” She teases obnoxiously tsking at him body loose on the arm rest opposite of him and he knows exactly what she’s alluding to, recalls her face as he had leaned across the small space of the car. She hadn’t looked scandalized in that moment either.

No, she looked ready to risk it all. He was the coward who couldn’t risk anything.

He leans back with a huff, folding his arms.

“I guess it’s true, revenge is a dish best served cold. Do you feel good about yourself?” He pushes his lips out, not pouting whatsoever.

Mafia men don’t pout.

She snickers from the left of him, poking at this cheek gleefully.

“Oh my god, are you pouting? You big baby! You did it to me first!”

He has no argument to that so he doesn’t refute the claim, he just silently glares at the tv not hearing anything despite the volume being quite loud.

“Next time let’s both be brave enough to finish what we started.”

He turns to look at her, blinded by the hopeful smile on her face.

Maybe he’s wrong and it’s more than physical for her too.

If that’s true, then he needs to sever this bond sooner rather than later.

He doesn’t reply to her, drinking more wine to occupy his mouth and she doesn’t push him, humming before turning her attention back to the tv.

He collects all her different laughs while they watch the mindless show, the soft giggles and the full body guffaws that make her slap his knee and spill over into his space, her long hair thrown across his lap. He gives up on stopping her and finds himself smiling at her joy, offering her water when she starts to choke from laughing too hard. He pats her back and rubs her until she can speak easily again, she’s seriously a hazard to herself and he tells her as much.

She cheekily replies, “That’s why I need you then, you’re my Italian hero.”

He refutes that claim but he knows that she’s right, he would destroy anyone who tried to harm one hair on her head.

Moments later when he hears her light snores, he turns the tv off and makes to stand up and put some much needed distance between them but she halts him with a gentle plea, “Don’t leave me alone please.”

He stills at her words, staring at her closed eyes praying that she’s dreaming about someone else. That those words aren’t for him, he doesn’t know if he’s strong enough to ignore her appeal.

When her head falls heavily on his shoulder again, her body distractingly warm pressed against his own he knows he should push her away it’s the only way they can both get out of this unscathed.

But his decision making is all but obliterated, so he stupidly leans his head onto hers, deeply inhaling the sweet vanilla of her shampoo instead, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her closer, dragging the blanket over both their bodies, silencing his heart when it jumps at her easily molding into him and softly murmuring his name from deep slumber, “Vincenzo.”

Just for tonight, he will let himself have this.

One night only.

It’s all he can afford.

#vincenzo #vincenzo cassano #hong cha young #Vincenzo #chaotic couple #killer couple #I love their pining it's everything

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philliamwrites · 4 years ago

Text

killing me softly with his song | (Childe / Reader) [chpt.1]

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Pairing: Childe / Reader

Tags: #fem!reader, #from childhood friends to lovers, #reader is a fatui agent, #slow burn, #unresolved sexual tension, #mature language, #forbidden love

Words: 2k

Summary: "Lybuov zla, polyubish i kozla," sighs your sister as she wipes off the table, but that makes you feel even more miserable. Falling for a goat might save you from an actual heartbreak by Tartaglia's hands.

____________

Loosely connected chapters about you and Childe finding happiness. Maybe.

Notes: Part 2

Masterlist

***

childe? what a problematic asshole i hate him i- *trips* *thousands of pictures of childe spill from pockets* fuck those aren’t mine i swear i’m just holding them for a friend i- *slips on a pile of pictures* fu ck no they’re not mine i hate him i just- *more pictures fall out as i fall to my knees, desperately trying to pick them up* hang on a sec jUst LISTEN

Chapter 1

A cold gust of icy wind drives you deeper into the sheets and you swear by the name of Her Majesty Herself once you get up and find Alexei, you’ll smother him with a towel for leaving a window open in the middle of the night.

Somewhere outside, a rooster crows. Fine, not dead of the night then, but no one cares for technicalities like these when sleep is involved. Especially after a night like this one, when Alexei fucked you into oblivion and back, you need every minute of shuteye you can get before another day of exhausting missions in the Chechnaya Taiga of Snezhnaya claims your last strand of sanity.

It’s peaceful mornings like these that make it all worthwhile though—the quiet during the early golden hour when people slowly wake up to a brand-new day and get ready to do their chores, their factory work. The sheer number of possibilities stretching out before their hands, and hope rekindled every morning despite the harsh cold waiting at their doorsteps. You love how everything stands still, how even the uncaring universe seems to grant people a sliver of peace, allows them to be soft and vulnerable. To be kind to themselves by indulging in a freshly brewed cup of coffee or tea. Nothing can spoil this for you, nothing and no one—

An awkward cough sounds from the door. You close your eyes, willing him to disappear by simply ignoring him, but his eyes burn into the back of your head like two smouldering coals and eventually, you turn around to see Alexei standing in the door frame, shifting from left to right. “There’s someone out there who wants to talk to you,” he says.

Turning around, you try to disappear into your pillow. “Whoever it is, I’m sure they can wait until it isn’t such a damn unholy time.”

Alexei clears his throat. “It’s uhm … it’s someone from the Fatui.”

Your eyes snap open. Suddenly the warm, cosy blankets feel like a snake’s tight hold around your body, and you struggle out of its grip, grabbing for the dressing gown you carelessly threw around the back of your chair last night.

The sun hangs low in the east, painting the city of Kerch that stretches outside of your window a sheen of dusky gold. When the red-brown bricks of the dacha cottages come into view, you think of the gingerbread houses you used to make as a child every year in celebration of Her Majesty the Tsaritsa of the Zapolyarny Palace.

Cold already seeps into your bones even though the robe is tight around your body. You hiss when your bare feet hit the icy floor but can’t find your slippers. Time to die like a woman.

You brush past Alexei, who’s scratching his head, still just in his underwear and you think him crazy for walking around half-naked like that even though it’s minus 58F outside and the heating systems inside your barracks only start to work once outside temperatures drop to minus 75F.

Maybe what they say is true. People from around Noyabrsk in the north of Snezhnaya regularly dip into frosty rivers and you do remember him mentioning ice swimming is his hobby. It was one of the few things you thought attractive about him. Actually, it was the only thing you thought attractive about him.

Light streams into the floor from the kitchen, flickering once, twice in dangerous foreboding. It’s time to switch the lightbulb. Tomorrow. Tomorrow for sure, because that isn’t important right now. What’s important is Tartaglia sitting at your table, leaning back in a chair, both feet crossed on top of the table, and eating your leftover mayonnaise sandwich you saved up for breakfast.

His eyes slide lazily toward you, taking in your form—barefoot, shivering even though the fur from your bathrobe is of the finest white wolf fur obtainable on the market.

Tartaglia finishes your sandwich, smacks his lips and licks mayo off his fingers. He doesn’t even like it, and you know from time to time he can’t handle dairy all that well. He just eats it because he knows how it infuriates you.

“Alexei, huh,” he says in lieu of hello. “Didn’t know you’re into himbos.”

Behind you, Alexei makes a sound like a kicked puppy. You glare at him over your shoulder, then jut your chin towards the front door. “Out. Now.”

He doesn’t wait for you to repeat yourself. Surprisingly fast for a guy this big, he bolts into your room, gets dressed in record speed and leaves your little one-bedroom apartment without so much as a Goodbye or “We’ll hear from each other,” and you prefer it that way. It saves stuff from getting messy.

Speaking of messy, you really wish Tartaglia would have sent you a note before coming. The smell of icy wind and snowy forests clings to his clothes. He must have come straight from a mission, not unusual in the slightest, yet in most cases he sends a message your way just to make sure he doesn’t run into one of your one-night stands and it doesn’t get ugly.

Like right now.

“I thought you had a little more class than that,” he says nonchalantly. His feet keep wobbling from left to right until you make your way over and push them off your table. Not that you actually sit there to take your meals, no. But this is your home, you have to assert dominance.

“Well, I’m not picky,” you say, taking the empty chair opposite from him. “The nights of Fyrva’snezh are really fucking cold.”

“I’m sure Fire-Water will do the same trick.” He’s sulking, yet he has no right to it and knowing Tartaglia, that’s why he sulks even more.

Your relationship can be summarised with one word: complicated. Which is funny, because besides martial arts classes (taught by a teacher that is a real ball of sunshine who could easily snap your spine like a twig) and infiltration tactics courses (led by a grumpy teacher who once woke you all up in the middle of the night to do a spontaneous quiz about infiltration steps and everyone who failed or fell asleep had to run a marathon through the forest in their underwear) you had to take at the Fatui military school of Zapolyarny, they also teach mathematics and molecular physics, and that shit was complicated.

Growing up in a small seaside village—bless little Morepesok; how much you miss babushka Katya’s refreshing botvinia soup—with only a handful kids your age, gravitating towards Tartaglia was the natural development. He loves ice-fishing, you love eating fish. You gag just smelling solyanka, he wolfs it down like it might be his last meal on earth. Opposites attract each other, as they say, and how true it is for you two—you, the morning person and he, the night owl; his will of iron and your nerves of steel. Your bow, his sword, even though Tartaglia is a masochist who likes to make it hard for himself by trying to switch weapons solely because you’re better at it than him and he is a sore loser.

His worship of Her Majesty the Tsaritsa, your fear of Her Majesty the Tsaritsa.

“I don’t think you came all the way here just to call me a slut,” you say. He is in no position to do so anyway, because Camilla from the ptychy’moloko shop down the road that leads to the Sarov church didn’t shut up about blowing him for weeks until you sent her a liver of a pig and claimed that was the leftovers from the last girl that thought she could put a leash on the Eleventh of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers. Camilla quickly moved on to an inconspicuous merchant who sells matryoshka dolls for a living and all is well that ends well.

“What do you want?”

Tartaglia starts tapping a gloved finger against the wooden table, a nervous tick you don’t know he’s aware of.

“I’m leaving for Liyue first thing tomorrow.” His tone is low when he speaks, his earlier nonchalance replaced by a sense of urgency.

“Okay.” It isn’t the first time he’s leaving Snezhnaya by order of the Tsaritsa, but every time he does, something inside you leaves with him. “So, you want me to keep an eye out for Teucer and the others?”

“He’s really unhappy I’m leaving again already.” Tartaglia doesn’t mention the reason he was sent away just a couple of months ago to Inazuma was because he accidentally blew up an artillery factory belonging to a nobleman that secretly shipped orders to Fontain. The fallout from that was easier to handle with him not being anywhere nearby. Tartaglia is like a pair of hot tongues; no one is sure where to put him or how soon he would cool off, but if they just drop him, he might light the world on fire. Kid gloves are put on and a careful perimeter marked out.

“And what excuse did you make up this time?” You knock your foot into his leg, lingering on his calf just a second too long before withdrawing again. “Another business trip to promote your toys? You can’t hold up this charade forever, you know.”

“Why, your eyes feast on Snezhnaya’s greatest expatriate toy seller, now extending to the Liyue Branch of our Institute for Toy Research.” Tartaglia’s eyes have taken on a playful glint, and he leans forward as he speaks. “You wouldn’t be so cold to break a little boy’s heart. That’s not you.”

You want to remind him that you have no problem to put an arrow between a man’s eyes, or rip out his fingernails, one by one, to get the information that you want.

“You owe me, toy man.”

“Put it on my tab.”

Tartaglia looks like there’s something else he wants to say, but as always, he decides to swallow those words even though they must hurt like swallowing needles. You know that feeling, and so you help him sort out his tightly entangled yarn of emotions by figuratively pushing him off the cliff.

“Don’t forget to bring condoms. I hear the women of Liyue are beautiful.”

Tartaglia goes a sickly grey colour, like the ashes of a dead fire, but he’s been the leading role of this play too long to fall out of character now. He gets up and stretches like a cat getting comfortable in a spot of sunlight. His jacket rides up, showing a stripe of skin, and you quickly turn your head away before giving into leaning over the table and mark him with your teeth.

Patting his left pants’ pocket, Tartaglia says, “I’m always prepared.” He carries a grin that is dry, humourless, and for a brief moment, you two lock eyes, trading a look that feels like a dare. You allow yourselves to imagine how he picks you up and carries you to your bed where you two would proceed to fuck without abandon through the whole day and the following night, leaving the bed only to get food until Tartaglia leaves for Liyue and you’d send each other love letters until his return. What an idea. What an utterly stupid, naive, wonderful idea.

“Well, lucky ladies,” you say, not bothering to hide the jealousy in your voice because jealousy is easier to handle than regret.

“Lucky indeed,” he agrees and dons his easy-going smile, one that he’s perfected after hours upon hours in front of the mirror until it accomplished what he wanted: to mock people, infuriate them.

On his way out, he stops to ruffle your hair in an affectionate way, one typical for childhood friends, but the distance between you is like the ocean separating Snezhnaya from Liyue.

It was on the very first day of your conscription into the military organisation, Number Six of the Ten Laws that the Fatui abide by: Any physical or romantic relationship between Fatui agents is prohibited. As thou would not exchange flesh with thy brother or sister, so thou shalt not with your comrade, for he or she is thy brother or sister in arms.

And everyone knows Her Majesty the Tsaritsa’s word is law, and though the law is hard, it is the law.

__________________________________________________

please drop by my ko-fi if you enjoyed my writing!

#philliamwrites #ao3 #fanfiction #genshin impact #genshin impact childe #childe #tartaglia #genshin impact tartaglia #reader #reader insert #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin impact childe x reader #genshin impact tartaglia x reader #tartaglia x you

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98prilla · 5 years ago

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Heat Stroke

I’ve seen a lot of “deceit is cold blooded so he gets cold easily” and I decided to flip the script. Too much heat is just as problematic for reptiles as too much cold. Read on A03 Here

He was warm. Not unusual. He tended to burrow under blankets while he slept, making more of a nest out of them than anything. He rolled over and yawned, about to go back to sleep, but he frowned. It was bright. He could see the light through his eyelids, it was far too bright in his room, he never left the lights on when he slept.

He realized with a jolt of panic that he wasn’t lying in bed, either. He didn’t feel the soothing weight of his blankets atop him, nor the softness of his mattress below. Instead, he felt hard ground.

He shot to his feet with a hiss, instantly awake and on guard, quickly taking in his surroundings with a sinking heart.

He was on a large, smooth rock. Before it was what looked like mulch woodchips. But beyond that….

He was in a cage. A terrarium, more accurately, he imagined Logan saying with an adjustment to his glasses. That brought a smile to his face for a moment, before it slipped away.

The glass sides of the tank extended upwards, so high and smooth there was no chance he was going to be able to climb them. The tank itself was a decent size, long enough it took him forty paces to reach from one side from the other, and twenty paces wide.

The most concerning part, besides having been somehow caged in the first place, was the light, and the heat it brought with it.

Looking up, he could make out what seemed to be a uv light, mimicking the sun and its rays, as well as its heat, along with a heat emitter bulb.

He was already growing uncomfortably warm. He could feel sweat starting to slick his skin, and he desperatly realized there was no shelter from the “sun", not shade, no water, anywhere to be found.

This was bad. This was beyond bad. This was awful.

Without realizing it, he reached for his power, trying to sink out, panicking further when he realized he couldn’t. He could still feel Thomas, but something was keeping him well and truly trapped here.

He started pacing furiously, knowing it would only make this worse in the long run, but he supposed it didn’t matter.

None of the so called light sides would trap him in this manner, no matter how much they disliked or disagreed with him. They were too fundamentally caring to put him through this. No, if they had the nerve to want to kill him, it would be a blow from Romans sword, not… not this.

Which meant it was one of the others, one of his… no. They weren’t his people anymore, were they? Hed given that up when he appeared to Thomas, when he’d made himself known, inserted himself into the equation after denying the rest of them that very thing for years.

He'd be lying of he said everything was fine over on the dark side of the mind, if he denied it was all falling apart, he’d known sooner or later there would be a price on his head. Because he was the only obstacle between them and Thomas.

And they were tired of waiting.

Suddenly furious, he glared at the glass. He took a breath, retreating as far as he could, before he took a running start, slamming his shoulder against it.

He fell back with a pained cry, gasping as he tried to push past it. He only fell apart more as he looked up, realizing his attempt hadn’t even left the faintest trace of a mark against the glass.

He growled, getting to his feet, winding up before charging again. And again. And again. And again. And-

He screamed as he felt something in his shoulder give, his arm hanging limply at his side, the smallest twitch of his fingers sending agony coursing through his entire left side.

He slumped to the ground, head pressing against the glass as he tried to contain his sobs. He couldn’t cry. He couldn’t afford to lose any more water content.

He was hot. He was so hot. It felt like he was slowly burning, from the inside out, any moisture on his skin had already evaporated, and he could feel himself starting to get lightheaded, the world spinning ever so slightly.

No. No! He wouldn’t give up, he wouldn’t die here, he wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of killing him.

Because unless he got out of here soon, he was going to die. His reptilian traits went deeper than the surface, after all. He’d always had trouble regulating his body temperature. With no shade, no water, no respite to the endless, aching brightness, he was going to overheat. He was going to be cooked alive. He was going to die.

It was slow, and cruel, because he knew exactly what was happening, he was lucid and aware as he staggered back from the glass, searching for something, anything, he could use, common sense giving way to terror.

His only hope was to buy time. Time for the lights to find him, as slim a chance as it was they would even notice, much less care.

Wincing and swearing with every step, he made his way to the edge of the rock, praying it didn’t go down too far, that it was just settled in the dirt, and started to dig.

It felt like hours. His forehead burned and his hand shook and he could feel his heart pounding too hard and too fast, like it was trying to claw its way out of his chest. He kept stopping to cough, so hard he thought his lungs would burst, so short on breath his body was convinced he must be choking, but the air scalded his insides, sent pain blazing down his throat.

Finally, he was down deep enough, down was the hard part. The mulch down here gave way to soft earth, still blessedly moist earth, and he widened his hole until it was just big enough for him to fit, if he curled up his tightest.

He’d made a burrow, digging out a small shelter underneath the basking rock, out of the light and the very worst of the heat, though it wasn’t enough.

He shivered. He knew that was bad, shivering. It meant his temp was hotter than that of his surroundings. Down here was cooler, only slightly, but cooler, and that meant he was already as hot as the surface of the cage, he guessed 101 or so, and rising.

He curled tighter, head against his knees as dark spots danced before his vision. He counted his breath, trying to slow his racing pulse, trying to breath in air, but his heart was so, so loud, it drowned out even his thoughts as he felt his muscles go limp.

What did it matter, anyway? No one was coming. No one cared. What did it matter, if he burned to death on his own heat, here?

It didn’t, he supposed. He let out a dry laugh, his tongue sticking to the bottom of his mouth, so dry he couldn’t even make spit anymore. It was like the sahara, in his mouth. He couldn’t speak now if he wanted too, which was somehow the most terrifying thought of all, because words were his weapon, his armor, his defense. Without them, he was nothing.

He was nothing.

He was…

Virgil was in the midst of the worst panic attack he’d ever had in his life. His knees were curled to his chest and he was rocking back and forth, unable to focus on anything else besides the noise in his head, screaming at him that it wasn’t safe, wasn’t right, wasn’t good!

He couldn’t see anything through the black and white spots peppering his vision, his breath coming in too short, unsteady gasps, that tore at his lungs and throat, that burned his chest and screamed in his ears.

He couldn’t hear anything over the blood rushing, pounding in his ears, his hands gripped his hair, he could vaguely feel his nails digging into his scalp, pricking fine points of pain, he could feel his teeth biting his lip so hard it started to bleed, but that pain wasn’t enough, it wasn’t grounding enough, he could taste the copper on his tongue, and it only made him gag, made his pulse rush faster. He knew someone was counting, someone was trying to reach out, but it was too hot, too hot, too hot!

“He can’t hear me.” Logan stated, withdrawing his hand at Virgil’s strangled noise at his touch, shaking his head hard and fast. Logan had stopped his counting. “He’s too far in his panic spiral.”

“So what do we do? Just leave him?” Patton asked, fear pitching his voice higher than usual. None of them had ever seen Virgil quite this bad, he looked to be on the edge of passing out.

“Where is he?” Roman yelped, jumping as Remus launched himself over the couch and into the common area.

“What the lemony snicket!? What are you doing here?” He asked, but Remus’s gaze had locked on Virgil. He walked purposefully towards him, before being blocked by Logan.

“Move.” Remus growled, glaring up at Logan, who’s arms were folded, letting his fierceness drop when he found no suspicion or hate in his eyes, only concern.

“I don’t know if given your turbulent history with Virgil, you should be interacting with him in his current state.” Remus shook his head, and Logan was surprised to find tears forming in his eyes.

“I can, I can, I need to, you don’t understand, it’s not him, it’s not-” Remus’s fists clenched and unclenched as he let out a breath from between his teeth, struggling to keep his words in order, to keep everything from spilling out, he was shaking, he couldn’t stop shaking.

“Please! Pleasepleasepleaseplease...” Logan heard Patton’s sharp inhale of breath as Remus broke into tears. He looked over Remus’s shoulder, seeing Roman speechless, gaping like a fish. Patton looked shocked, and he nodded once, towards Virgil. Logan frowned, but nodded back, looking down at Remus.

“ok. Just... just be careful with him.” Logan said softly, squeezing his shoulder as he stepped aside. Remus nodded, taking a few steps forwards, before kneeling in front of Virgil, who still rocked, breath catching and heaving, eyes covered by his bangs.

“Vee.” He said the old nickname, and instantly Virgil froze, head jerking up, eyes blown wide with panic as they met Remus’s.

“R...r...ree...” Remus shook his head, moving closer.

“It’s ok, stormy, don’t try and talk. It’s him, isn’t it? It’s Dee?” Virgil nodded so fast his head spun, and he closed his eyes against the wash of dizziness.

“Feel it. Bad, is bad, too hot, too hot!” Virgil cried, hands digging deeper into his scalp.

“None of that, now. Squeeze my hands ok? As hard as you need. You’re not gonna hurt me.” Remus said softly, surprised as Virgil instantly let go of his hair and clutched Remus’s hands as if they were his only lifeline, so hard Remus could hear bones popping.

“Good. That’s good, Vee. I know it’s hard, but I need you to focus. I can feel it too, he’s in trouble, bad trouble, right?” Virgil nodded again, and Remus could feel him calming somewhat.

“I need you to tell me what you can feel. What he can feel. We need to find him.” He could feel Virgil trembling, shaking as he started coming back to himself, rocking a bit faster on his heels. “I know its hard, I know it doesn’t feel good, I know it hurts, but you’re the only way we have to find him. I need you to try. I’m right here, I’ll be right here. Okay?” Remus reassured. Virgil bit his lip, wincing at the pain.

“O... oh... okay. Cl-closer? Pl-pl-please?” Virgil asked, breathless and shaky. Remus scooted closer, surprised as Virgil climbed onto his lap, letting out a trembling breath. Hesitantly, Remus let out his tentacles, wrapping them around Virgil to keep him steady on his lap, so he didn’t have to let go of his hands.

“Too much?” He asked, feeling Virgil shaking in his grasp.

“N-no.” He mumbled. “G-g-good.”

“Okay. Are you ready?” Virgil nodded. He took as deep a breath as he could, before squeezing Remus’s hands tighter, closing his eyes.

It was hot, it was far too hot. His throat was dry, scorching air in and out. It was dim, but not dark, he could feel something soft and dry on either side of him, dirt? Hopeless, he was hopeless, he was sure no one was coming, no one would find him, the others had done their job well, caging him in this glass prison like the snake he was, light and heat and rock and it was hot, hot, hot!

Dying, he was dying, he could feel it. His heart pounded too hard and too fast, his breath was shallow and quick, his vision was failing, his senses shutting down, he was burning, every inch was burning, and he was giving up, it was too much, his eyes slipped closed and-

“No! Nonono n-n-n-no, D-d-dee, Dee, d-d-d"

“Virgil. Virgil, where? I need to know, where?” Virgil was hyperventilating, on the edge of breaking down again, but he knew Remus was right, they needed to know where. He squeezed Remus’s hands harder, it hurt, it hurt, he couldn’t hold it much longer, but he needed to know, which one, which one, where...

“Wrath!” He gasped out, slumping against Remus, exhaustion cresting over him. “it was wrath.” He whispered, feeling the tentacles retract, only Remus’s arms left holding him, his hands having let go at some point, but he was too worn out to care, to open his eyes. He felt Remus press a soft kiss to his forehead, the tip of his nose. It reminded him of when Remus used to put him to bed at night.

He would always tell some rambling, nonsense story, it didn’t make any sense, and it didn’t have to, it kept his brain occupied, trying to decipher the words, letting his worries fade and allowing him to get some sleep. Before he drifted off, Remus would always tuck him in tight, whisper words of love, kiss his forehead, his nose, his cheek, before turning on his nightlight and gently shutting the door.

“Thank you. You did so good, my little storm cloud, my dark night. You are so, so, good, love. I’m so proud.” Remus murmured in his ear.

“Dee... y-you need to g-get Dee.” He felt a gentle hand brush his bangs back from his face, caress his face softly, and he shuddered, leaning into the contact.

“We will, Vee. I’ve gotta let you go, okay? We’re gonna go get him, right now.” Virgil clung to him tighter, shaking his head. For the first time, Remus looked up at the others.

Logan was looking at the two of them critically, no doubt trying to decipher what was going on, what had just happened, and Remus thanked his lucky stars that he had let Remus through, none of the others would have known what was happening, much less how to calm Virgil from an attack like this one. They’d never had to.

Roman was looking at him with wide eyed surprise and suspicion, a frown on his face, but Remus didn’t care what Roman thought at the moment, he had more important things to worry about.

“patton. I’m leaving you with Patton, ok? He’ll take care of you, you know he will. And... and I’ll be right back, ok? I’ll be right back with Dee.” Remus promised, shifting Virgil in his arms as he stood, passing him to a surprised looking Patton.

“He needs to sleep. Lots of sleep. And he usually gets cold, after this. And... and he might have nightmares. He will, until I get to Dee, but even after that, so be careful if he wakes up in the next hour or so, he won’t be here, fully.” Remus listed off, turning away with fire in his eyes.

“Remus. I would like to come with you.” He stilled at Logan’s words, turning to face the logical side, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Why?” Logan adjusted his glasses.

“because from what I heard just now, it seems Deceit is in some sort of mortal peril, and I have the most medical knowledge of anyone here. Whatever the situation, I will be able to assist.” Remus didn’t have time to argue, and truthfully, he didn’t want to.

“I’m coming too.” That was more surprising. Roman and him were on ok terms, but still, Roman kept his distance, thought Remus was weird and gross. Roman softened at his brother’s gaze. “I know we don’t always get along, but I don’t hate Deceit. We need him, as much as we need you, as much as we need any of us. And if it is wrath, you might need the extra sword.” Remus nodded curtly, running a hand through his hair.

“Ok. I can take us directly there, take my hands.” Remus ordered, smiling just a bit as he felt two hands instantly hold onto his. He let out a breath, steeling himself. “this might be a bumpy ride.” Then he closed his eyes and the three sank out.

Logan and Roman staggered as their feet touched solid ground. It had felt like they were falling for eternity, swirling around and around until they hadn’t known up from down, until their minds spun and they feared they’d never make it out.

Then it was suddenly over.

“Um... you alright? I did say it was a bumpy ride.” Remus said sheepishly as Logan straightened his glasses, and Roman stood up from where he’d been hunched over, trying not to hurl.

“Fine. I’m fine. Let’s just... get a move on.” Roman replied, glancing around. They were in a hall with doors, much like their hallway on the light side. Remus stalked over to one painted brilliant, crimson red, flame decals across the bottom. With a battle cry, he kicked the door in, mace in hand as he prepared to swing. He froze instead, mace dissepating in the air as he ran to the glass.

“Dee! Snake face, can you hear me?” He shouted, pounding against the glass. No response. He swore, mace appearing back in his hands. He wound up, and swung forcefully. It bounced off, but left a hairline crack. He screamed, and hit it again, fractures spiraling up the glass. One more swing, and an explosion of glass shattered inwards, sending him stumbling forwards and onto his hands and knees. He barely noticed the glass cutting into his knees, scratching his hands and cutting into his skin. It didn’t matter.

Dim, not dark. That’s what Virgil had said, so he wasn’t above ground, somewhere, there was no shade to be seen. He noticed the heat next, it was hot, easily over a hundred, probably more, and he cursed again. Too hot, burns, Vee was right yet again.

He scanned the mostly empty area, noticing a strange pile near the large rock in this... god, he hated to call it an enclosure, but that’s what it was. He sprinted towards it, feeling himself sweat. He ran hot, if he was already sweating from this, and Dee had been here long-

The pile wasn’t Dee. It was dirt. But next to the pile was a shallow hole. He dropped into it, looking around, dim, not dark. And there he was. He sucked in a breath, cursing in a nonstop rant as he reached in, gently extracating Deceit from his clumsily made burrow.

He was burning hot. He was so hot his skin was red and burned, his scales were dry and flaking. His breath was far, far too fast and shallow, rapid breaths against his too quick heartbeat. His head lolled against Remus’s chest, completely limp in his arms, and one arm hung at an unnatural angle. He was too hot, too dry, his fever was up to 110.

“The fuck are you doing in my room?” His voice was hot and scorching, raspy and burning. Remus turned, glaring just as hard as Wrath was, feeling his tentacles sprout from his back, his mouth twisting into a snarl. Surprise flashed across his face as Roman and Logan stepped between him and Wrath, Roman’s sword drawn, and Logan’s hands glowing a deep green.

“Oh come on, you brought the lovey dovey squad with you? How pathetic.”

“Not pathetic. Strategic.” Logan replied. Wrath rolled his eyes.

“Please. How’d you even know he was here? I made sure he couldn’t call for help.” Wrath stated, leaning casually against the wall, making Remus growl deep in his throat. “Was it that little tattle tale wannabe light side? I’ll have to pay him a visit, teach him a lesson.” Remus moved to step forwards, but Roman did before he could, eyes aflame.

“You won’t be going anywhere near him. You won’t be going anywhere near any of them, ever again.” Roman growled, flames erupting from his sword, and with a slash, they sprung from the ground, surrounding wrath in head tall, burning blue flames. For the first time, fear sparked in Wrath’s eyes as he pressed back against the wall.

“you wouldn’t.” Wrath hissed, and Roman’s eyes narrowed as he leaned through the flames, which didn’t singe a hair on his body, pressing his blade to Wrath's throat, just hard enough to draw a bead of blood.

“I fucking would. And if i ever see your face again, if you ever threaten my family again, if you ever hurt any of them again, I will. I’d lay low for a while, if I were you.” Roman hissed, twisted smile on his lips as flames danced in his eyes. ”Otherwise, who knows what unfortunate accident might befall you?” With that he turned on his heel, walking back to Remus, Logan already examining the unconcsious Deceit with a frown on his face.

“He’s gotten heatstroke. A very acute, severe case, as well. The best thing we can do is get him back to the commons and work on cooling him off, slowly, so as to not shock his system. If we do this carefully, he should be alright. I can tend to that arm there, as well.” Logan reassured lowly. Remus nodded, glaring up at Wrath once more, hoping he conveyed all his hatred and ire in that one look, succeeding, if the shudder Wrath gave was any indication. Then Logan and Roman each took hold of one of his arms, and they sunk out.

Hot, hot, burning. His scales were flaking, falling off, his skin was peeling, turning red, his breath was short, his heart was failing, he was dying, Dee was dying, he couldn’t hold on any longer, they were too late, and he was gone-

He shot awake with a wild sob, hands covering his face as he shook, unable to shake the vision of Dee from his mind, unable to tell if it was true or not, but he could still feel the residual pain, the fire that crawled through his veins, that burnt him up from the inside out, that devoured his breath and his lungs.

He jerked as he felt a hand on his shoulder, meeting Patton’s eyes.

“Kiddo? You okay?” Virgil shook his head, arms wrapping around himself. It was still too hot, too hot, but something else, something good. Safe, he was safe, they had him!

He scrambled to his feet just as the others sunk back in, everyone staggering except Remus, who had a determined look on his face as he set Deceit down on the couch. Instantly, Virgil was on the couch, Deceit’s head in his lap, stroking his hands through the side’s hair, tears falling silently down his face.

“Roman, get me a box fan, something that can blow a steady stream of air on him, and the aloe from the bathroom. Patton, a bowl of cool water and a washcloth, as well as the ice packs. I’ll get my medical supplies. Remus, stay with the both of them.” Logan ordered, everyone splitting up on their respective quests.

“Vee? How you doing?” Remus asked softly, sitting on the arm of the couch behind Virgil, wrapping his arms around Virgil’s middle.

“good. Bad. I don’t... it’s all... still see it.” Remus nodded, tucking his chin against Virgil’s shoulder.

“It’s ok, stormcloud. Can you breathe with me? Just try to match me, okay?” He breathed in deep, mentally counting, emphasizing each step, feeling Virgil begining to copy his rhytm. By the time the others returned, he’d slid off the arm and into Virgil’s seat, Virgil curled on his lap, arms wrapped around his neck, face pressed against his chest in sleep, Dee’s head in his lap.

“We need to remove his layers, it’s only hindering him at this point. Roman?” Logan asked. Roman nodded, and with a snap, Deceit was in a soft tee shirt and pajama shorts. It was strange, seeing him so exposed, and a bit unnerving. It frightened him, seeing the usually suave and smooth side so unguarded and unresponsive, Roman realized, and looking at the others, he could tell they felt the same.

Quietly, Roman plugged the fan in, turning it on low and setting it on the coffee table, blowing air at Deceit’s torso. Logan took the ice packs, and positioned them under Deceit’s armpits, under his knees, and behind his neck, setting the arm in a sling, frowning as Deceit didn’t react at all to what would have been a very painful jolt. Patton carefully, gently, rubbed in the lotion and then the aloe onto his skin, wincing at the burns and dryness, at the flaking scales, at the heat still emenating from his body. Remus took the rag and started dabbing at Dee’s forehead, trying to cool his temp.

“Now what?” Patton asked, slumping back on the opposite end of the couch, looking to Logan for answers.

“We can do nothing but wait. Now that he is out of there, and cooling down, his pulse and breathing should start to return to a steady and normal level. He will be exhausted, his skin will hurt like a severe sunburn and take some time to heal, but he should be stable in only a few hours, awake a few after that.” Logan said, falling into his armchair. Roman was the only one who couldn’t seem to settle, pacing the floor.

“Remus, what...what was happening? With Virgil?” Patton asked, concern in his eyes as he realized Virgil was still shaking, face scrunched tight in his sleep.

“He sees things. When... when one of us is in trouble, he can sense it. Usually it’s not much, it’s small enough it doesn’t affect him at all. Like when Roman’s stressed over a video deadline, or Logan can’t solve an equation, or you can’t find the recipe you’re looking for. He feels it, the... stress, the anxiety, he can tell where it’s coming from and who. This... this was so strong, I could feel it. I knew he must if I could. When it’s that strong, he can’t separate what’s happening to the person he’s feeling and what’s happening to him. It’s like he’s there. That’s how I knew he could find Dee. He could see where he was, feel it, though it’s hard to focus enough to see details through someone else’s perspective. Between pushing himself to see, and the panic attack, he’s completely wiped out.” Remus answered, rubbing Virgil’s arm as the side started to whimper in his sleep.

“There’s only been a handful of times it affected him this badly. The first time was me. I got into a fight in the imagination I couldn’t win. I managed to get away, but I didn’t have the strength left to heal myself or shift the enviroment. I was bleeding out on the forest floor. Scared the hell out of Dee, but he caught on pretty quick that Virgil wasn’t just panicking, something was up. Enough details spilled out, Deceit realized what was going on, managed to find me based off his descriptions. I’d be dead three times over it weren’t for him.”

“And the other times?” Logan asked. Remus scowled, face darkening.

“What, can’t deduce that? Most of the others have never been fond of Dee. He’s the only thing keeping them away from Thomas, the only obstacle in their way to running rampant. I at least have the sense to see he’s right! I hate it, but he’s right to keep me from Thomas, to keep me away, to keep my presence to a minimum. I hate... I hate how I am, but that’s not his fault, has never been, and he...” Remus stopped, too choked up for a moment to continue, his gaze resting on Deceit’s too pale face. “The other three have been traps. Set for Deceit. To kill him. So the others can run free.” Remus laughed hollowly, shaking his head. “How funny, right? He plays the villain, puts on the façade, so you all don’t have to face the real monsters in Thomas’s mind. He’s spent every second of his existence protecting you all, keeping them away, almost dying for you and your precious standards of purity and light, and you couldn’t give less of a damn if you tried.” Remus closed his eyes against the grief and sadness and futility overwhelming him.

“I... I didn’t know... I’m sorry, Remus.” Remus shook his head, laughing bitterly at his brother’s words.

“You didn’t care to know. There’s a difference. Whatever. It doesn’t matter, it’s not the point.”

“Remus. It does matter. I mean it, I didn’t think, and I’m sorry. How... how long has it been like that?” Remus shrugged.

“It wasn’t so bad. We were never as close as you guys. But it only got worse after Dee revealed himself. It made them mad, why should he be able to show himself, but keep them all hidden? Who was he to hold that power? It had always been him, me and Virgil, against them. We both understood Dee, agreed with him. Virgil is fight or flight, anxiety, after all, he knew it was a bad idea. And I... well. Look at me. I know I’m not good. I know I’m just... just an illness. Then... then Vee left. We both helped push him out the door, pushed him to show up and make himself known, we knew what would happen, we knew he would leave, but we knew it was for the best. But it got harder, after that. They got stronger, and madder, and Virgil still stepped in, if we asked, but we didn’t want to drag him back into it, so we didn’t as much as possible and it was only a matter of time until something like this happened and I-” He caught his breath, gently stroking Deceit’s scaled cheek, cracking open his tear streaked eyes as he felt Deceit lean into his touch, though he still showed no signs of awakening. “I tried. I just... I can’t be everywhere at once. And he doesn’t tell me everything. He goes off on his own sometimes, and Wrath must have nabbed him then. Probably ambushed him, else Dee would have bit his head off.” Remus said fondly, dabbing the cloth over Dee’s scales, trying to get some moisture on them.

With his normal outfit gone, it was easy to see why Dee wore so many layers. Scales in varying colors, from the gold on his face, to deep silvery blue along his arms and pale lilac on his hands traced patches and lines across his body. His nails were sharp, reminiscint of talons, and he was thin, but his muscles were toned, no doubt allowing him more strength than he seemed capable of, and his whip fast speed. Along with the scales, they could see lines of old scars on his skin, no doubt a testament to all the scrapes he’d gotten into with the others.

“We’re moving you. If... that is, if you want. I’ll move your rooms up here right now. Then they can’t get to Deceit, and he can keep them contained using his power from a distance. If he has to go down there to handle them, at least he has a safe place to come back to up here.” Patton’s voice was gentle but firm, and Remus was left speechless at the offer. He opened and closed his mouth several times, taken aback.

“yes. Please.” He finally managed to spit out, spurred on by the concern on Patton’s face. Patton nodded with a small smile, closing his eyes. He felt out their rooms in the mindscape, in the downstairs, and pulled, with all his might, feeling them settle in the hallway, opposite each other, next to Virgil and Roman’s rooms, respectivly. He staggered as he finished, Roman stopping in his pacing to catch him, keep him upright.

“Okay, padre?” He asked, Patton clutching at his shirt.

“Yeah. I just forgot how much energy that takes. The last time I did it was Virgil, I don’t think I’ve ever moved so much at once. I maybe got a little ahead of myself, there.” Patton said, trying to step away from Roman. His legs buckled from under him, and Roman swept him up off his feet, leaving Patton giggling and smiling sheepishly at the bridal hold, Roman equally as flushed at his own instincts.

“Er, sorry. I’ll settle you down on the other recliner, yeah?” Roman asked, chuckling as Patton yawned, shaking his head.

“Nah. You’re cozy...” Patton murmured, tucking his head against Roman’s chest, arms wrapping around his middle in a hug as his eyes drifted shut. Roman rolled his eyes fondly, kissing the top of Patton’s head, smiling as Patton let out a soft happy noise, nuzzling closer as he sat down in the chair and tucked a blanket around Patton.

“Guess it’s naptime. Wake me up if anything happens, Lo.” Roman said softly, settling in and closing his eyes, starting to snore softly almost immediately.

Logan’s full attention turned to Remus. Despite Deceit in his lap, and Virgil koala hugging him, he was tense, eyes roving over Deceit’s face as he dabbed at him with the cloth, frowning at every tic of his eyelids, every twitch of his fingers. Occasionally he paused to smooth back Virgil’s hair, murmur softly in his ear when he made a distressed sound or squeezed him a little tighter, no doubt having a nightmare, as Remus had said to expect.

His mind turned over and over all the things Remus had said. He should have realized sooner that the others would not be friendly towards Deceit, and it was not a large jump to violence, for those sides, anyways. But that’s not what his mind was stuck on.

“Remus. You... do you believe, what you said, about yourself?” He asked, watching Remus flinch imperceptibly, sink back into his seat, brows furrowed as he looked at the floor.

“yes. It's... it’s true! I’m just the screw up, the bad part of creativity, the part Thomas didn’t want, and all I do is drive him up the wall and none of my ideas are good, and Deceit was right, to keep me locked away. Cause look what happened when he let me out. It’s like you said. It’s better... it’s better to just ignore me until I go away.” Logan softened as Remus’s voice cracked, the creative side still refusing to look anywhere near him.

“Oh, Remus. That’s not what I meant at all. And you’re forgetting what else I said. That you would help Thomas if he chose to pursue more adult themes, which we all know he is going to. Perhaps not dolphin sex or whale genetelia,” That got a snort of laughter out of Remus, and Logan adjusted his glasses, pleased, “but the topic of depression, which has already been lightly touched on, the topic of suicide, of self harm. And that is just as you pertain to Thomas. Not as you pertain to us.” Remus looked up at him, hope and puzzlement warring on his face.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, we care about you, as Remus, not just as creativity. Patton doesn’t shift the mindscape lightly, and surely you’ve noticed Roman trying harder to spend time with you, to get to know you again. I had been trying to be welcoming as well, though emotions are... hard for me to express in the way I would like. You are not an illness. You are not a disease. You are useful, you are needed, you are loved.” Logan said the last sentence with a rush, already embarased by what he’d said, but the broken, shattered look on Remus’s face stopped him. He took a breath, and crossed the few steps to where Remus sat, crouching so he was at eye level with him, holding his gaze steadily.

“Remus, you are needed. You are loved. You are wanted.” He repeated, slowly, wishing he could chase away the doubt and fear on Remus’s face.

“Truth.” Came a quiet, rasping whisper, making the both of them jump. Deceit’s eyes were open a slit, though he didn’t seem to have the strength to move, to even turn his head.

He felt awful. His limbs were like noodles, his head lolled against Remus’s knee, and he tried, but he couldn’t even shift his neck to get a better look at Remus, who was hovering over him like a mother hen. His vision was blurry, forms too bright and fuzzy at the edges, he couldn’t even open them all the way. He only knew it was Remus because of the streak of grey that stood out against the dark, and his voice. He tried to speak again, to reassure Remus, but his words caught in his throat, and he ended up coughing, his mouth desperetly searching for moisture, but it was dry, dryer than it had ever been, his tongue swollen and thick against the roof of his mouth. By the time the fit had passed, he was wheezing for air, air that burned his too dry throat and nearly sent him into another round.

But then someone was helping him to sit, and there was a glass of water to his lips, and he tried to drink slow, but it felt so good. It was like a cooling breeze in the midst of a muggy summer day, like rain over a forest fire, the sweetest, purest, relief he’d ever felt in his life, and he let out a whine as the glass was taken away.

“Easy, Deceit. Too much at once will make you sick. You can have more in a few minutes.” Logan’s voice reassured. He cracked his eyes open further, squinting against the brightness that seemed to be everywhere. “How are you feeling?”

“tired. Cool. It's... h-how did you...” He swallowed, trying to get the lump in his throat down as it all came rushing back. The heat, the fear, the surety that this was it, this the end, no one was coming, he could still feel the earth under his nails, the heat all around, the fire eating away at him-

“Dee! Deedeedeedeedee-” Then there was a bundle of warmth throwing itself at him, sending him sprawling back across the couch, and it took him a moment to recognize the splash of purple against the darkness of his jacket. Without pause, he wrapped his arm around Virgil, pulling him close, realizing the other was bound in a sling against his chest, aching dully. Virgil didn’t seem to care, he wrapped his arms around Dee’s neck, burying his head in the crook of his neck, legs wrapping around him in a koala hug, pressed so tight against him Deceit could feel every tremble and breath and heartbeat against his skin, soothing something inside him, warming him in a good way from the inside out.

“Shadow, little shadow, you found me. You did it, you found me, dearest, it’s going to be ok now.” He murmured, feeling Virgil’s tears against his shirt. “so brave, you’re so very brave, dearheart.”

“W-w-wrath had you, h-h-h-ot, saw it, can’t, c-c-can't st-st-stop-” Deceit shushed him, pulling back, pressing a kiss to Virgil’s forehead, his cheeks, finally resting his forehead against Virgil’s, all he could see those dark, violet eyes.

“I know. But I’m here, dearest, because of you, I'm here. I’ll be right here. Go back to sleep, lovely.” Deceit murmured, watching as Virgil struggled to keep his eyes open. “I’ll be right here.” He kissed Virgil’s eyelids as they fluttered shut, and Virgil let out a soft sigh against him, curling into his chest and somehow holding him tighter. Deceit nestled his head atop Virgil’s, and let his own eyes slip closed once more.

“Dee?” Remus, voice worried. He couldn’t find the strength to peel his eyes back open, not with Virgil hugging him tight, filling him with warmth.

“M’fine. Tired. Lil dizzy, yet, but m’fine.” He mumbled, slipping into darkness once more.

With those two curled up together on the couch, there was room for Logan to slip into a seat beside Remus, hesitantly, carefully, pulling him into a tentative hug. Remus froze at his touch, and he worried he’d overstepped, then Remus let out a soft wail, hugging him back, letting his stress and worry and fear drain out of him in his shaky, quiet sobs.

“You meant it. You meant it.” Remus said breathlessly, wiping away tears and snot on his sleeve. Logan frowned smally.

“I did. I think it is safe to say Deceit will be alright. He has clearly recovered from the heat, if not the exhaustion. Meaning you should get some sleep, as well.” Remus looked like he wanted to protest for a moment, before slumping into Logan’s arms with a sigh.

“Alright. Only for you, Lolo.” He closed his eyes and started snoring just as fast as Roman had. Logan chuckled, taking off his glasses and setting them on the coffee table, before settling back in his seat. Some sleep would be good for him.

Virgil woke first, slowly, sleep trying to tug him back into its warm embrace. He was still tired, no, exhausted. It reached to his bones, the weight trying to tug him back down, and blearily he thought he hadn’t felt like this since-

His eyes shot open, breath speeding for a moment as he saw only black, before he felt the warm exhale of breath against his hair, and realized he was being held tight, entwined with another side. Shifting, he felt everything inside him loosen as he saw that half-scaled face, as he felt Dee’s heart beating, his breath coming in and out, his skin still looked red and flaky, but far less angry than the day before. As he watched, Deceit let out a soft groan, his own eyes slowly flicking open, resting on Virgil’s, a soft smile quirking his lips.

“Hi.” Was the tired word that escaped his lips, but it was enough, because Virgil was hugging him again, so tight he could barely breath for a moment, before his hold loosened and he pulled back, a fierce look on his face.

“Don’t you ever do that to me again, Dee. Don’t... don’t scare me like that.” He muttered furiously. Deceit sighed, shifting to sit up, Virgil following and settling beside him on the couch. Deceit ran a hand through his hair, looking around the room, surprised to see Logan curled up with Remus in his arms, less surprised that Roman and Patton were in the same position on the recliner.

“Oh yes, because I very much wanted to get trapped in a container like I was some kind of pet and then boiled to death from the inside out. That was exactly my intent.” He replied, unable to help the sarcasm that slipped into his voice. He smiled as Virgil let out a breathy laugh, resting his head on Dee’s shoulder.

“Okay, fair. You’re just lucky Remus was around.” Deceit frowned, turning to look at Virgil.

“How are you doing, dearest?” Virgil let out a breath, fidgeting with his hoodie sleeves.

“Alright. Still... worn down. Remus helped. God knows I wasn’t making sense, but he calmed me enough I could focus, I could see... I was scared...” Virgil said softly, so softly, and Deceit reached out, tucking Virgil’s bangs back, stroking his cheek.

“I know. But you did such a good job, shadow, little shadow.” Virgil rolled his eyes, but shoved his head against Deceit’s hand much like a cat demanding pets. He laughed, and started massaging Virgil’s scalp, the action soothing both him and Virgil, it had been so long since he’d had this much contact with anyone, he realized.

“Mhph. Virg? You up?” Roman grumbled, stretching and yawning hugely as he blinked open his eyes. Deceit froze, flinching back, expecting Roman to shriek or summon his sword, and he was too tired to deal with his theatrics and put up his usual façade. Instead, Roman’s eyes widened, and he gently shook Patton.

“Pat! He’s awake!” Instantly, Patton was on his feet, crouching before Deceit.

“Oh, goodness, I’m so glad you’re up. Logan said you’d be fine and just needed to sleep, but you had me scared, kiddo. Um, we have some lotion and aloe here, for you, but I don’t know if you use something else on your scales that might help, they’re pretty bad, too. Do you want something to eat? Oh, and I should get you something to drink right away, you’re still really dehydrated, water? Or would juice be better, it has more sugar and stuff?” Patton rambled.

‘Patton, you’re crowding him. Juice would be preferable, and something simple, toast and scrambled eggs, if that’s acceptable?” Logan asked, looking to Deceit, who nodded.

“Yeah. Sounds... fine. I have some oil, in my room, Remus knows where.” He said softly, realizing Remus was awake and staring at him as if he hadn’t seen him in years. Abruptly, Deceit realized his normal outfit was gone, leaving his legs and arms exposed, and he shivered.

“We changed you out of your clothes yesterday, to aid in your cool down. Your temperature is sufficiently lowered now, if you wish to change back. We also have moved your and Remus’s rooms up here, with Remus’s permission.”

“You don’t have to do that.” He answered softly. Logan cocked his head.

“But we have. What I said to Remus applies to you as well, Deceit. We should have worked to make that clearer, sooner. Please, let us help.” Deceit blinked slowly, before nodding, settling back on the couch.

“Ok.” He snapped his fingers, and his outfit changed into soft fleece pajamas, patterned with dark scales. It felt good against his sensitive skin. Remus popped back up, a bottle in his hand, which he passed to Deceit.

“Let me help. I can reach the ones on your back.” Virgil said, gently taking the oil from him, waiting for a reply. Shakily, Deceit nodded, feeling his aching muscles start to relax as Virgil carefully rubbed his back. He realized Remus still hadn’t said anything, an unusual occurance, and met his gaze, tilting his head in a silent question.

Remus let out a breathy laugh, sitting on the couch cross legged before Deceit, taking both of Dee’s hands in his, simply staring at his face as if he couldn’t get enough of it, searching it for something, though Dee couldn’t pinpoint what.

“Ree?” He asked, gently, and Remus squeezed his hands.

“What if I hadn’t noticed you were missing? What if they distracted me enough I didn’t come after you? What if I didn’t feel your panic? What if Virgil hadn’t been able to see? What if no one realized what was happening until it was too late? What if we found you and you’d shriveled up like a prune, crumbling to dust before our eyes? What if we watched your heart slow and stop and your breathing stutter out and your eyes close and they never, never opened up again? What if-” Deceit gently extricated one of his hands from Remus’s, and guided it to his chest, over his heart. “I can’t stop, can’t stop, it’s so loud...” He muttered, Dee rubbing circles against his knuckles.

“I know, love. But you can feel that, right? Tell me what that is.” He asked softly, earnestly.

“You’re heart.” Came the mumbled response.

“Yes. And what is it doing?” Remus’s eyes flicked to his for just a moment, before looking away again, though he could see the thoughts starting to slow, his eyes starting to clear.

“Beating.”

“Good. Now, what about this?” He asked, moving Remus’s hand so it was over his diaphram. “What is that?” He could see the small smile starting to grow on Remus’s face.

“You breathing.” He murmured. Deceit smiled.

“Indeed. Do you know why, my heart is still beating, I am still breathing?” Remus didn’t respond, but he was looking at Deceit now, meeting his affectionate gaze. “Because you did notice I was gone, you did feel my panic, you did find Virgil, you did focus him enough he could see, you did find me in time, you did get me help and you did make sure I was alright. That’s what matters. Can you remember that for me, Ree? Can you focus on that?” Remus’s smile was bright as he nodded, tears in his eyes as he wrapped his arms around Deceit, who laughed as Virgil was pulled into the hug by Remus’s tentacles, grumbling but making no move to escape the hold.

He could hear Patton in the kitchen, the smell of eggs starting to waft through the room. He could hear Roman talking softly with Logan, who was already flipping through whatever book he was reading, trying to find the page he’d been on. And he could feel the warmth from his two best friends surrounding him, filling him with a soft joy he hadn’t felt in far too long.

And he wondered if nearly dying was maybe the best thing that had ever happened to him

#sanders sides #deceit sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #remus sanders #oc dark side #he's barely in it #sympathetic everyone #sympathetic deceit #sympathetic remus #deceit angst #Angst with a happy ending #hurt/comfort #heat stroke #familial dark sides #protective everyone

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ratchedspeach · 4 years ago

Text

An Ever Fixed-Mark | READ ON AO3

a quick little character study about everyone’s favorite problematic duo. CW for alcohol and tobacco use. Other than that, angst abound, and not much else. Enjoy!

“I don’t feel like myself anymore.”

“How can you not feel like yourself when you don’t even know who you are?”

It’s a rare, unexpected omission - one which Cordelia Goode had not been prepared for, but her mother, apparently, had. Cordelia doesn’t look at Fiona, her eyes stay trained on a spot on the cement wall. Still, she can feel the smoke spiraling off her cigarette, and the satisfied smirk playing her mother’s features. Cordelia’s thumb worries against an ash leaf, tracing the veins and soft flesh of the plant all the way to its stem.

“I could have done without your opinion, mother.”

Fiona grunts. “Then might I suggest not saying it out loud?” She says, smoke steaming between her teeth like a serpent.

Cordelia’s thumb stops. Ash: strength, power, protector of youth, she thinks. The sapling dies - shrivels and rots in a matter of seconds. Fiona tuts, brushing past her daughter and taking the pot in her hands.

“Oh Delia,” she simpers, “always so dramatic.”

The plant hits the wastebasket with a dull thud. Cordelia thinks it should make her flinch, thinks she should feel anger, or contempt, or goddamnit something, but she doesn’t. She doesn’t, and she knows that should scare her, but it doesn’t, either.

It scares Fiona, though.

Not that she’d ever admit to it - fear is too weak, too fragile an imbalance. No, Fiona will not bend to it. She straightens her back, lips curling into something akin to a snarl as she presses the stub of her cigarette into the soft soil of another pot. Even this offense against her daughter’s most prized possessions does not faze Cordelia; and so it is that Fiona’s hand is forced.

“I need a drink; smells like shit down here.” Fiona mutters, spinning on her heels, before calling over her shoulder. “I’m not gonna drink alone.”

Fiona has never waited for an invitation to open (or finish, for that matter) a bottle of liquor, nor can Cordelia recall a time when she has been invited to join in on her nightly escapade. Were Cordelia more at home in herself, the statement would strike her as uncharacteristic. But she isn’t, and she doesn’t, so instead she merely follows her mother up the stairs into the great hall of the Academy. It’s still bright out: light pools through windows and between the crevices of the front door. Dust speckles and shimmers like snow in the air, but all Cordelia can fathom is that she should add vacuuming to the chore list. Fiona is in the study pulling the cork out of a particularly old bottle of rye; one which Cordelia is certain she’s never seen before.

“Well, are you joining me, or are you just gonna watch?” Fiona snaps as she pours the dark liquid into the second crystal glass.

Cordelia surges into motion, practically sending the whiskey sloshing onto the carpet in the fervency with which she picks it up. She stares at her mother, who stares at her own glass, and bristles under the intentness of her daughter’s pooling eyes. When Fiona finally meets her gaze, she thinks Cordelia looks like a child searching for permission. It’s not an uncommon thought for her to have about her daughter, but it strikes something in her which Fiona doesn’t expect - a sort of warmth that trickles into her stomach and burns. And so they are forced into a stalemate of sorts; each woman uncertain and protecting a secret of their own, each completely dependent on the other for their next move. It will be Fiona who acts first (as it often is), bringing the glass to her lips and swallowing the double shot in a single, unceremonious gulp. Cordelia looks at her own whiskey and licks her lips before following suit. She does not finish it, a fact which she is certain Fiona adds to the ongoing tally of reasons the woman simply could not be her own daughter.

“It’s good.” Cordelia rasps against the burning in her throat.

It isn’t a lie, though. The alcohol, though practically strong enough to make her breath fire, holds a distinct sweetness which she hadn’t expected - a smooth, buttery aftertaste that lingers on the insides of her mouth and coats her throat. She doesn’t hate it, and, well, that’s something.

Fiona pours herself another glass before gliding over to the couch and sitting. “Kentucky Whiskey. Been in this Coven since … Christ, at least since I was a kid.”

“I’ve never seen it before.” Cordelia mumbles, chancing another sip.

“Anna Leigh caught me in the liquor cabinet - yelled at me until the little gargoyle was practically blue in the face; something about finishing a three thousand bottle of tequila.” Cordelia can’t help but giggle. “She charmed the more expensive bottles in the coven’s possession after that. Only the Supreme can access them now.”

“Sounds about right.” Cordelia snorts, bringing the glass level with her eyes and studying its contents.

The whiskey is amber in color: like honey or browned butter. There’s a thickness to it, a richness even in appearance that the younger woman cannot help but marvel at.

“So,” Cordelia smiles, “how many bottles are back there, anyway?”

“Seven, I think. A couple whiskey’s, tequila that’s older than me, cognac, vodka, and a few bottles of wine.”

“Does tequila get better with age?” Cordelia’s brow furrows.

Fiona shrugs, finger tracing the rim of her glass. “Don’t know. We can try that next.”

It’s then that Cordelia realizes she is still standing, and what’s more, that were she to continue, she might topple over from the sheer volume of liquor she was about to consume. She doesn’t dare sit on the couch, Fiona having already claimed that her domain. Instead, she opts for a chair opposite her mother, and perches on the edge.

“You gonna finish that?” Fiona’s eyebrows quirk towards the liquid still sloshing between her daughter’s fingers.

“Hm? Oh, yes, I —“ Cordelia stutters, bringing the whiskey to her lips and swallowing in one fell swoop.

She tries to stifle the cough as the liquor hits her throat. Fiona, on the other hand, does not stifle her laugh. Were it not for the rare quality time that she found herself sharing with Fiona, she might have commented on the crudeness of it. Cordelia’s cheeks redden, and she holds her tongue.

“We should really go to a bar.” Cordelia scolds, mostly at herself. “I don’t know that it’s right for the headmistress to be drinking on school grounds … especially with Madison -“

“Oh Christ, Delia, you don’t really still believe she’s sober, do you? I raised you better than that”

“I … what?”

Fiona rolls her eyes, pulling a pack of half-empty cigarettes out of the inside pocket of her leather jacket. She taps the carton in the palm of her hand. “That girl is about as sober as I am.”

Cordelia’s shoulder’s tense. “How would you know? Mother, you’re never here.”

“I’m the Supreme, Delia.” You’re a drunk, is what you are. “I don’t need to be here to know that this place is falling apart at the seams.”

Cordelia catches her lower lip between her teeth in order to bite back the vitriol threatening to spill off of her tongue. Fiona takes the opportunity to light her cigarette. When she inhales, the stuttering burn of tobacco seems to mock Cordelia. Foolish girl, blind, stupid child.

“Madison Montgomery has been sober for one —“

“Day? Hour?” Fiona teases.

“One month, two weeks, and twenty-four days.” Cordelia finishes with atypical confidence.

Fiona glares at her daughter for a moment, cigarette perched between her fingers. “Alright, Cordelia. Whatever you say.”

Cordelia huffs, leaning back in her chair like a petulant child. “And to think, we were starting to have a nice time, too.”

“Speak for yourself.” Fiona dabs the cigarette on the mahogany coffee table, before huffing a sigh. “Fine, if you’re so keen on getting out of here, I’ll drive —“

“No. Jesus, no. You win. We can stay.”

Fiona smirks. “Thought so.” She pours them both another drink.

Typical Delia, she thinks, always so focused on the rules. Sometimes, Fiona wonders if her daughter understands the definition of the word ‘witch’. If she does, Cordelia does little in the way of using such a gift to her advantage. I’m not drunk anyhow. And even if she was, Fiona could think of at least four ways to remedy the situation that would take little more than a flick of her tongue, or an inhale to the right part of her ribcage.

“Why are you here, Fiona?”

She isn’t shocked by the question. Christ, if anything, she’s confused why it took so long for Cordelia to ask. Still, Fiona ponders it, if for nothing else then dramatic effect. It’s true, she had shown up at Miss Robichaux’s Academy that morning unannounced. But she was the Supreme, goddamnit, who said she needed a reason to show up to her own coven?

“Why are you, Delia?” Fiona counters.

Cordelia, for her part, sets her jaw. Her cheeks tinge red, as do the rims of her practically black eyes. She pinches the skin of her left palm. She blames herself for even considering that she could get a straight answer out of her mother.

“Because you aren’t.”

Fiona rolls her eyes. “I am now.”

Cordelia shakes her head, frustration rising like bile in her throat. “But you won’t be. Not forever. This is just a blip.” And an unwelcome one, at that.

“Christ’s sake, Delia, what do you want from me?”

“I want an answer. An honest one. Why are you here?”

Fiona gives her daughter a knowing look - the kind Cordelia has seen so many times before - the kind she’s come to expect and loath. Whatever comes out of her mouth next, Cordelia knows it won’t be the truth. Not entirely at least.

“To see you.”

And oh Cordelia doesn’t mean to laugh, but she can’t help herself. It’s just too … too potently underhanded. So she does: she laughs, and hard, at that. So hard that she has to put her glass down. So hard that she thinks she might pass out. So hard that she doesn’t even realize when she starts to cry.

But cry isn’t really the right word for it.

She’s sobbing — sobbing in earnest, and she can’t stop herself. So she buckles at the waist instead, and rests her forehead on her knees, and lets herself get lost. She’s not sure why she’s crying, but Cordelia can’t help but feel a little relieved, because at least she’s not numb anymore.

Fiona pours herself one more double shot, then puts the rye back in the cabinet. She doesn’t touch Cordelia - doesn’t dare give any omission that she know she’s done this to her daughter. Yes, she has, she’s done this, and it's not the first time. Probably not the last, either. Instead she just waits for Cordelia’s wails to reduce to low whimpers, and for her back to straighter, and her hands to wipe a trail of mascara across her cheekbones.

Then, and only then, does Fiona speak: “Some headmistress.”

“You’re lying to me.”

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t play dumb.” Cordelia snarls amidst the bile rising in her throat. “You’re lying.”

Fiona scoffs: “Honestly, Delia, you’re so paranoid.”

“You aren’t here to see me. Torment me, maybe, but not see me.”

And, well, Fiona can’t argue with that. She’s not here to see her daughter. If she’s being honest with herself, she’s not sure why she’s here. To run away, maybe. To ignore her imminent death (which she still has not mentioned to Cordelia). To remind herself of where she came from — of who and what made her; and part of that puzzle is Cordelia.

It always comes back to Cordelia, doesn’t it?

“Fuck it, I’m going to bed.” Cordelia staggers on her feet.

She hadn’t realized she was drunk; the alcohol must’ve been waiting for her to exhale fully before it took effect. She has to use the banister to ascend the first flight of stairs. Her vision wobbles, her tongue is dry against her teeth. When she gets to the first landing, she stops. And there, silhouetted by the moon, Fiona sees the angel of death in her daughter.

“Do you remember the sonnet you used to read to me?”

Maybe it’s the slur in Cordelia’s voice, the promise of alcohol keeping this part of her daughter’s memory locked away, but Fiona nods. She thinks she might even smile a little.

“Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments. Sonnet 116.”

Cordelia’s tongue darts across her upper lip, and she mumbles something under her breath, before adding: “Your room is made up if you plan on staying the night.”

“It is?”

There’s a pause — a deafening silence. Cordelia glares at her mother in somber resignation. “It always is.”

She ascends with her back straight and a sobriety that Fiona had not expected. Maybe she really was her daughter, after all.

“Love is not love …” Fiona says to herself, eyes trained on the fading outline of her daughter.

Her palms shake. She reaches for another cigarette.

#nat writes #Shakespeare #ahs coven #cordelia goode #cordelia foxx #fiona goode #well so here is this #ahs fic #idk man where did this come from

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razorblade180 · 4 years ago

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Twin Snowflakes pt21:Ice Breaker?

[Part 20 here! <-]

Snow, as far as the eye can see. Summer has had enough of snow. A terrible thing considering her move sets and living situation. The frozen rain gently fell down into a meadow of pure white, blanketing any beautiful flowers that could be right below the surface. Her body fell flat, landing stomach down. Cold, but not too cold; the usual case for her mind every time she ended up here. Why was she here? Her heater was definitely on before she laid down. Wool socks kept her toes nice and toasty, and windows were shut tight. She had triple checked. Perhaps this was an actual dream this time instead of an unpleasant visit from the worst guest ever. Summer didn’t want to deal with Shiva. She didn’t want to do anything really. Her body felt...tired. Eyelids were heavy and energy was spent. What was this?

The crunch of snow being crushed broke the silence of the meadow and obstructed Summer’s already limited view. Her head lifted up to see the last person she wanted to. Now she really hoped this wasn’t a dream. It would be dreadful for Shiva to take those away from her too.

The problematic entity laid down on her side. Her hand reached out to brush away a few strands of Summer’s hair to get a better look. “Tired?” Shiva asked, rubbing the girl’s cheek. “I’d be too, faking joy in my life. How long do you think you’ll last? You feel it right, time slipping past you? Days, hours, minutes, seconds; how much more time can you spend failing at everything? Aren’t you tired of it all?”

Summer didn’t respond. Summer couldn’t respond. All she could do was stare into Shiva’s alluring gaze and weep, motionless.

“Awww poor thing.” Shiva rolled Summer over on her back, then straddled her. Her left hand kept rubbing Summer’s pale cheek. Shiva looked down at the girl with a smile that while small, was still oozing with a smug attitude despite her calm voice. “Just close your eyes and surrender to me. What else can you do? You can’t beat me, out think me, or do anything that matters when it counts the most. Do you enjoy it, burdening everyone? How much longer will you hold Nick back?”

Summer’s lip began to quiver. The warmth of her tears was the only source of heat filling her. They began to run faster and faster down the side of her face, only to meet Shiva’s gentle hands rubbing them away. Those same hands drifted lower down and stopped on Summer’s eck. Shiva never squeezed or even entertained. Her demeanor felt almost infant like, the way she tilted her head as she examined everything Summer did. Or...what she didn’t do.

Above, the ice ceiling began melting away again, the meadow fading into dust along the way. Shiva was the last thing Summer saw before everything became an empty space of black. Then, she woke. Dried tear marks were strong on her face and something pinned her right hand from trying to rub them off. Summer looked at her bedside and was taken back by the sight of her brother sleeping with his head laying on the mattress and hand holding her own. “Nick?” Summer said softly, pulling her hand free gently. Nick had always been a light sleeper. Summer had barely done anything and yet Nick woke up.

The boy rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. “Hey sis. Did you sleep okay? You kept crying and trembling.”

“I was?” Summer rubbed her neck and rubbed her tear tracks away. “Sorry. I...guess I had a nightmare.” The sun barely hit her curtains so it must still be pretty early. “Were you here all night? Nick, you’re sick.”

“It’s not like you can catch a cold, miss immunity.”

Summer pouted. “That’s not what I meant and you know it. You’re not gonna get better sleeping on the ground. Worry about yourself first for once?” She said, dry and tired. Summer laid back down and faced away from her brother. She heard him stand up but didn’t hear him walk away. Her mattress sank down seconds later and his hand took hers again.

“Are you...mad at me? You were pretty upset a couple days ago about the Paladin match, and Valerie sure had some choice things to say to me. I know I can be…overbearing at times. I get that you probably want space, but can you at least tell me if there’s anything I did specifically.”

His voice sounded hurt and tired as well. Summer didn’t know Valerie and Nick were on shaking ground. Is that why Nick didn’t tell her he was sick? Summer turned around. “I’m not mad at you. Things have been really low lately is all. I’m sorry if it felt like I’ve directed any of it at you. Things should get better after the tournament. Veronica will probably leave, I’ll have nothing but school lined up, and Oscar will hopefully be back by then. Not the biggest fan of virtual sessions.”

“Yeah, I can see that. Listen if you want more free time then I won’t make you-”

“Performing at the tournament is just fine.” Summer smiled. “Like I would miss a chance to stun a crowd, all of Remnant in fact. Besides, I made an Acr promise to an orphan, remember? I couldn’t back out if I wanted to.”

“Yeah...that would be pretty bad:” Nick cringed at the thought of an entire orphanage being sad and lied to. That’s guilt that would follow someone forever. “Got any plans today? It might do us some good to practice at least once together before the tournament. Not that we really need it.”

“Please, if it isn’t our dual summoning then we’re set. We can’t do that today though. Veronica and I are...umm…” Summer wanted to tell Nick about their argument yesterday which led to Veronica all but forcing her to agree to a fight today and the use of stolen diamond dust, but it wouldn’t make much sense to. Endangering him with her risks was the main reason things escalated. “We’re...going around town and the woods to get things for my outfit.”

“The woods?”

“Yeah she wants to see me fight grimm and we’re gonna look for pure dust and stuff. So don’t worry if you get one of your little twin chills or whatever you call it.”

“I don’t call it anything. Twin chill is nice though. Well be careful. Expect a call if I feel it. Better safe than sorry. It would suck for me to be grabbing school papers while Shiva is rampaging through the woods.” Nick was getting a little stressed thinking about it. One minute he’s stapling papers then sees a massive glacier outside the school window. Not to discredit his sister, but that’s the kind of luck Nick typically had. Things go fine, and then they don’t.

“School papers?” Summer questioned. “Nick it’s not a school day.

“I know. I’m gonna stop by there this afternoon and get the work I missed.” A look of disbelief and judgement shot him right in his heart from Summer. “What!? Just because I’m sick doesn’t mean the homework disappeared. I’m simply going to get it and come back home to rest. Summer’s look did not waver. Nick turned a little red for the nonverbal call out. He stood up. “Leave me alone! I’m going back to bed and then I will do exactly as I said I would do.”

“You’re full of shit…” Summer said while doing a fake cough.

“Night, you little diva.” Nick walked out her room and grabbed the door to shut it.

Summer reached out for a second. “Wait a second.” She said, her voice more reserved. “Nick, y...you love me right? Like, spending time with me?”

Nicholas looked at his sister with a raised brow. “Of course I love you. You’re my baby sister. Not that you being that means I have to hang around you or anything. Why, someone dumb tell you otherwise?”

Summer couldn’t help but smile. “No, hearing you actually say it is just nice. Rest well.” Nick smiled back then closed the door. The smile Summer wore tried its best to stay, but left as quick as it came. Her swarming thoughts made her head feel heavy and cluttered until Summer found herself resting it in her hands as she attempted to rest a little more. Sleep never came back for her unfortunately, no matter how many minutes passed her by.

It felt like no time at all before Summer was out of her bed and getting dressed for the day. She decided to keep her hair down for now and was more concerned about if she was gonna be warm enough. Her standard black thermal leggings and old white over coat should do the trick, but Summer felt compelled to put her ear muffs around her neck and wear warmer socks with her already poofy white winter boots. Snow gloves were put in her coat for safe keeping. Testing diamond dust without Nick was more stressful than she thought it would be. At least the layers of close gave her a good excuse whenever she’d start sweating.

The fated knock on the door finally came and took ten years off of Summer’s life. “Y-Yes?” The door creaked open before being fully swung open with Veronica on the other side. An exceptionally beautiful soft brushed purple winter coat that had a belt around the waist and big black buttons to bundle the whole thing up. Her color of choice was complemented with grayish-white jeans that looked roomie; a weird choice for the girl. Then there were her gym shoes school? Her entire bottom half was casual in contrast from the coat.

Summer got a bit worried. Veronica dresses herself with purpose. Her wardrobe doesn’t sacrifice functionality for flare, yet is stylish nonetheless. This one felt disjointed however. “Ummm what’s with the shoes and jeans? I would’ve thought you’d look a little more...stunning?” Said Summer, choosing her words carefully. She must’ve succeeded because Veronica gave a rude look and nothing else. It was easy to tell that she was still tired from the way she rubbed her eyes. “Didn’t sleep well either?”

“I’m sore and the time difference hasn’t gone away yet. As for my clothes, why would I wear my good clothes when I’m going to the woods and things can get physical? I’d wear a different coat if I had one.” Veronica pulled out a scrunchy and put her lion’s mane of a hair into a ponytail tail.

The sleeves of the coat fell down and Summer became a little more anxious to see Ember Cilca on Veronica’s wrists.“ Oh right, of course she’ll dress comfy in a fight. And use a strong weapon. Why not use her own? Is punching me that exciting?” Her eyes looked down and noticed a small duffel bag outside the door. “What is she gonna do to me!?” Summer ‘casually’ walked over to her sword and put it on her hip. It made her feel a little safer. Then she grabbed a hidden vial of diamond dust. Safety was right back out the window.

“You’re only bringing the one?”

“If this goes terribly then I don’t need Shiva getting a double dose. One is more than enough.” Summer held it out. “Here. It’s probably better you have it for now.”

“On that, we can agree on.” Veronica took the vial and grabbed and used her tail to grab her bag. “Let’s get this over with already…” she stormed off immediately.

Summer thought it best to follow Veronica’s lead. The girl was clearly in a bad mood. “Dying in the woods by a girl crushing on my brother. Yeah, that’s on par with the rest of my life.”

xxxx

With two of noisiest people out of the house, it was pretty easy to tell something was amiss for Weiss. It’s almost eight in the morning and the sound of guitar or vocals hadn’t rattled her morning coffee. Yeah they had a sound room, but that never stopped Summer from playing a rift on the way to it. “It’s quiet, too quiet.” She took a sip from her mug then went to the garden. “Maybe Summer is training? Veronica could probably hear through the sound room.”

The closer Weiss got to the garden, the easier it was to hear that someone actually was there. Yang. She was upside doing push-ups in just a tank top and yellow pajama pants.

“Forty five...forty six...forty seven…forty- oh hey Weiss.”

“Hehehe, how are you not freezing? It’s barely warmed up yet.”

“Since when have I ever been bothered by a little cold air?” Yang let her balance slip to land right side up. “I’m hot every day all day.” She flipped her hair for dramatic effect.”

“Well Mrs. Hot stuff, have you seen Summer? Despite her reluctance to go to school, the girl is an early riser. Especially on the weekends. Is- hey, you got a little…” Weiss pointed on a few bruises on Yang’s right shoulder.

“Oh this? Veronica wanted to spar yesterday. Her mood wasn’t exactly friendly.” Yang sighed. Her body flopped on the soft grass near the tear area. “That girl, it feels like all we do these days is spar rather than trying to talk.”

“Gee, I wonder where she gets that from.” Weiss said with the most sarcastic tone in the world. “I guess I’m in no position to make fun. Summer is hard to communicate with too. Teenagers man.”

“Tell me about it! Were we this bad?”

“Yeah.” Weiss nodded, remembering everything and cringing. “Yeah… gods, we were a lot to deal with.”

“You maybe. I was pretty-”

“Hard headed and passionate? Uncompromising on everything? Loud as hell?”

Yang sat up. “Okay already! Point taken hehe. Oh if you’re looking for Summer, she’s out in town with Veronica.”

That wasn’t an answer Weiss thought she’d hear. “For what? Those two can’t breathe in front of each other without wanting to fight.”

“Well they don’t have a choice if Veronica wants to make a perfect outfit for her. Walking, running, sitting, posture, Veronica likes seeing all of that in order to make a quality design. Kid has a real gift.” Yang crossed her arms. “Too bad people don’t give her the time of day.”

“Oh. So the situation hasn’t gotten any better for her?” Weiss asked.

Yang shrugged. She began pacing around in circles. “Besides what happened here, there hasn’t been a school fight in a while or calls home. Grades are average but that’s to be expected. No drugs either, thankfully. Pretty sure that was a one off thing. Still, Veronica is clearly unhappy and not even Blake gets much out of here these days. We’d take her therapy but she’ll run off or flat out won’t go.” Yang let out another huge sigh, slouching over. “I’m worried. I just want her talking to somebody that will listen and care.

Weiss could relate to that. “Well, at least Nick chips away at that armor of hers.”

“True. That boy is magic. I don’t wanna have him doing it all by himself though. I’m positive he has his fair share of problems too. How is he?”

“All work and no play recently. You saw how sick he was yesterday right? If I could just take a little bit of his drive and replace it with Summer’s reasoning….”

“Ruuuuude! I’m reasonable!” Shouted the boy from the balcony. “Some would say I’m actually quite flexible.

Weiss scoffed, rolling her eyes playfully. “Those people don’t live with you! How are you feeling? Still have a fever?”

“A little one, but I think I’m alright. Well enough to go get my assignments from school? Please?” He said, giving puppy eyes that made Yang laugh and Weiss facepalm.

“Hahaha. Nick, I wish my horses worked half as hard as you do, but I think you might be giving your mother gray hair.”

“Oh he knows! I tell him all the time that one day he’ll notice my hair is gonna go from white, to silver over night because of him and his sister.”

He smiled. “And you’ll look just as beautiful.”

“Nice try, Jaune jr. Fine, you can get your work. However, you’re not walking. I’ll drive you there later and just like with training I’m gonna time you. I swear I don’t know where you get this drive from. Even I know when to take a break.”

“Not at his age.” Yang shot back. “Jaune and Ruby mellowed you out. Nick, your mother didn’t know what to do with herself sometimes. Especially when nobody was around. I’ve walked in on her reading a cookbook, in Menageran! I live there now and I barely know one dialect!”

“Blake didn’t teach them all?

“No point. There’s tons of different languages. Just ask Veronica. She knows two fluently and will gladly show it off. Did you by any chance hear the part of the conversation where your mother and I talked about her? If so, can you not mention it?”

“No worries, didn’t hear anything besides you wanting her to open up more. I don’t think you gotta worry about that too much.” Nick spoke with confidence, hitting his chest. “Veronica might not know it yet but I’m positive Eliza enjoys her company; and I’m trying my best to get Veronica to talk to Summer semi-friendly.”

Weiss was skeptical. “You’ve tried that before. Got a master plan you haven’t shared?”

He shook his head proudly. “Not at all! Hahaha!” Nick looked to the sky. Gentle snowflake flowed through a slow air current like a frozen river. “All I have is hope.”

xxxx

“This is utterly hopeless.” Was the only thing Veronica can say in despair as dozens of people stood in multiple lines to board airships. “Why is everyone up so early!? It’s been half an hour and we haven’t budged. The week day isn’t like this.”

“Of course it isn’t. People work.” Summer looked around to see familiar citizens going on and off ships with luggage; as well as complete strangers who haven’t adjusted to the cold of Atlas. “Many important people have already started showing up in advance for the tournament. They may not help like you will but coming so soon is a great excuse to explore the kingdom and gain influence. They might even drop by the schools and try recruiting if they can get away with it. Almanac is a place where-”

“I know, I know. It’s where society collides. It’s built down on Mantle as a way to expose youths like yourself to how the less fortunate live and inspire you to make the city better. Conversely, all the trips and equipment allows the kids in Mantle to have quality equipment and see Atlas up close; giving them a goal to work towards.”

“It also exposes the older people here to the citizens of Mantle. Creating situations where interactions between the two isn’t rare changes some people’s perspective, or at least makes them think twice about deciding on some affirmative action that hurts the people below. It’s a little harder to disregard the common man whenever their kids are friends with them and you know some.”

“Not really. They think twice because it isn’t smart to angry people who can get to your front door with ease.”

Summer felt her entire vibe get a little bleeker. “Way to make it pessimistic.”

“Hard not to be with a line like this!” Veronica shouted too loudly, drawing a few eyes their way. Not that she cared. “Ugh, isn’t there another means of getting down? Can’t you flex your last name and skip?”

“Weren’t you listening? A lot of high profile people are here. If I throw titles around then so will they. Then you have a bunch of rich people being snobby and being put into a bad light. That includes your family.” Summer witnessed Veronica’s agitated state get a little more restless. It was very strange. This wasn’t the “people agitate me” kind of mood Veronica showed off. No, she seemed torn up. Against her better judgment, Summer took the girl's hand in concern. “Hey are okay? You’re acting weird.”

Veronica looked at the girl's big blue eyes. It was scary how pretty those eyes were. Arc blue had its own appeal that was different then Nick’s chilling Schnee eyes. Veronica looked at her hand and pulled it away. “I’m just a little hungry and you know, lady stuff.” She lied about the second part. “Also don’t touch me without asking. You know I don’t let anybody touch me without asking.”

“Yeah between that and your semblance I can’t imagine you being much of a hugger.” Summer laughed nervously, wondering why she said that of all things. This line has single handedly forced the longest interactions they’ve had without a fight in an extremely long time. Summer was waiting for Veronica to decide on fighting here instead. They were running out of banter! “So umm...wanna eat and pray the line gets shorter when we get back?”

“Will it?” Veronica deadpanned. The lack of eye contact told her all she needed to know. This line was only gonna get worse. “Ugh. Fuck it, new plan. I’m not waiting any longer to get a ride.”

“I told you, using your title is a bad idea.”

“I’m not going to, genius. Follow me.” Veronica ditched the line and started heading back more towards the outer rim of Atlas, right where buildings and watch posts were stationed. “Let’s play a game.”

“That’s never a good sentence.” Summer instinctively moved a little slower. She was not about to get sucker punched. “What kind of game?” She was already regretting asking. It was gonna be crazy.

Veronica finally stopped moving and turned around. “A race to Mantle. The fun way.” She pointed to the edge.

Summer looked out and saw the chains extend down. One of them had a good enough angle to point them in the direction where the woods are. Right at the edge of the old slums in fact. “You’re nuts…”

“Don’t play that card!” Veronica pointed at her. “I know all about you snowboarding on these things!”

Boom! Caught red handed. No way Summer could deny that. “I promised Winter I wouldn’t needlessly endanger myself.” That was a solid excuse.

“Aren’t we literally going to the woods to mess with dangerous dust you stole?” And that was a solid answer. “You’re not gonna talk me out of this. I debate and public speak on national levels. You have a school club.”

“I’m not even in the debate club.”

“Exactly. Now stop arguing. We’re wasting time.”

As usual, Summer could only fall into whatever crazy thing would happen next. But she wasn’t giving up that easily. Veronica wouldn’t dare be too rude in public. “What’s stopping me from walking away right now? I could get on an airship and make it to the forest before you get down the chains.”

An amused chuckle came from Veronica. “Hehehe, it’s funny how wrong you are sometimes. I said race to Mantle, and I never said I was gonna use the chains.” Before Summer had a chance to even think about what she just said, Veronica fell through the ground.

It was so sudden that Summer was thankful she didn’t blink. “Veronica!?” She gasped. Now there wasn't a choice at all! “That’s so...I can’t believe..aaah! Why is she like this!?” Summer shouted to nobody. Her feet raced to the edge, then jumped. The rush of cold early morning air was more than enough for her to create a snowboard of ice that planted her right on the chains. “Can’t things be normal for once?” A path of glyphs shot down the chain. The use of her semblance with the little control over diamond dust she had made for a potent combination. Summer was blazing down the chain! The links between each one were terrifying though. A late hop could shatter the board and send her flying. “Don’t fuck up don’t fuck up don’t fuck up don’t fuck up, and juuuump!” Little hops was all it took for her to soar down wards for seconds before landing. “Doing a trick or two would be pretty amazing if this wasn’t so dangerous and a race.” Summer looked around the air. “Where is she anyways?” Her gaze finally spotted the girl. Veronica was actually beneath her. The girl’s back faced the ground while her hands rested in her pockets, eyes closed blissfully. “Veronica?” Summer said. She got noanswer. Veronica continued to fall effortlessly. As if she was unconscious. Summer shouted again. “Veronica! You alright over there?” Still no answer. Now Summer was worried. “HEY!? VEE VEE!”

Not even her despised nickname gave Veronica a reaction. Summer could feel her heart start to race. “She can’t actually be unconscious right!?” Reasoning with herself wasn’t working. If by some chance Veronica was knocked out...Summer didn’t want to think about it. There was no time to think. Without another second to waste, Summer jumped off the chain and began falling towards her long term acquaintance. She brandished Myrtenaster and angled three glyphs to bounce off of to reach Veronica. Summer extended her hand in fear of the girl’s safety. “Veronica!!!!”

“Huh?” Veronica opened her eyes to see a blur of white and blue hurling towards her. “What in the-” She wasn’t the only one surprised. Summer’s eyes bugged out. The girl was completely caught off guard, crashing into Veronica and sending them spiraling through the air. Fortunately, Veronica was quick to grab Summer by the sleeve and pull her into a tight embrace for the girl’s own safety. “Summer!? What the hell!? Why did you jump!?”

“Why were your eyes closed!?!?! I thought you had passed out or something. I was screaming your name!!” Summer yelled with tears in her eyes from the fear.

“Summer I can’t hear shit when wind is roaring through my ears! I was relaxing!”

“RELAXING!? YOU ARE FREE FALLING!!!!” Summer screamed. No doubt Veronica heard that.

“IT IS A LONG FALL, SUMMER! IT IS LITERAL HANG TIME!” Veronica yelled back. She finally noticed the tears coming from Summer. At first she thought it was because of the wind but they kept coming. “Are you crying right now!?”

“YES, DUMBASS! I THOUGHT YOU WERE FALLING TO YOUR DEATH!!!”

Veronica’s heart felt like it stopped for a moment. She had no response for that. Never in her wildest dreams did she expect Summer, anyone, to freak out over something like that. It was a little haunting. If she didn’t feel like a jerk before, Veronica definitely was feeling that way now, just a little. She looked over her shoulder to see Mantle buildings and ground coming in hot. Her arms fastened tightly around Summer’s upper and lower back. “Wrap your arms and legs around me, tightly!”

Summer did as she was told and felt Veronica’s hand press against the back of her head. What should’ve been several seconds before a splat became extended free falling. Summer went from seeing the sky, buildings, the pavement, and then minerals. Crushed sediments and pavement that were firmly placed within the dirt. Summer was experiencing seeing underground for the first time. “Woah…. you can do this all the time!? You see €€this all the time!? How deep are we?

“You are quite literally being impressed by things you can see with a shovel. Now flex your stomach and try not to get the wind knocked out of you.”

Once again, Summer listened and gave a pat on the back for confirmation. A weird feeling ran over her body. As if going down an elevator, then €€boom! That feeling became ten times worse. It was like a rollercoaster on the highest drop. But instead of going down, their bodies were being forced up. The world of minerals was left behind for streets once again. Their momentum kept going up until they came to a midair stop. Summer instinctively made a platform at their feet before they fell again.

Veronica finally let go and pulled Summer off of her body. “Well that’s one way to stop. I’ll admit, clever thinking.”

“What was your plan?”

“I would five back into the ground and back up. Each time would get less air then the last before eventually I would be like several inches from the ground, or I’d land on a roof on the way down. Simple stuff.” Veronica brushed off her outfit in an attempt to get the wrinkles out. The puffy eyes looked from Summer made her let out an auditable little laugh in disbelief. “Tsk, I cannot believe you actually cried.” She teased.

Summer squinted at Veronica before folding both arms and turning her head away dramatically. “I don’t see what’s so funny. Not in the slightest.”

“That’s because you have no sense of humor.”

“What’s humorous about a death like that? It’s terrible.”

Veronica shrugged casually. “Eh, there’s worse ways to go. But ummm thanks for checking, and stuff…” Veronica jumped off the glyph and onto a roof before Summer got any mushy ideas from a thank you. “The race is null in void. Move your butt. We have ground together since we made an emergency landing.”

“We’re skipping the fact you just showed me a little gratitude?” Summer teased. She couldn’t help it. The glare shot at her for it though reminded Summer that teasing a person she had to fight soon wasn’t a great plan. Unlike Valerie, Summer wasn’t gonna get any buffs or debuffs from it. “Hehehe….I’ll start moving my butt.”

“A wise decision.”

xxxx

“Alright, we’re here.” Weiss said, parking her car into the mostly empty school parking lot. “Nick, you have fifteen minutes to get what you need. Anymore and I’m coming in to drag you out myself.”

He laughed. “Can you at least send the gigas in? If you’re gonna be extra then go all the way.” He hopped out the car and ran inside.”

“Don’t tempt me!” Weiss shouted. She was not above embarrassing him like that. Not in the slightest.

Nick jogged his way down the halls. Benefit of the weekend, no crowded halls. Just him, the occasional faculty, and the sports team. Basketball, soccer, the usual suspects. However, the sight of favorite blue haired girl in an Atlesian military uniform and the kingdom’s flag had caught his attention. Seeing Eliza with her twin tails undone and in one regular ponytail was always so shocking to him. “Yo, Eliza!” He waved.

She looked at him briefly before doing a double take. “Nick? Aren’t you supposed to be in bed resting?”

If he had a nickel…. Nick walked up to her in disbelief. “Is everyone my mom today?” He joked. “I am fine. Just grabbing my assignments. Anyways, color guard practice today? Cool. Didn’t realize I wasn’t the only one doing double duty for the tournament; though I guess I’m technically doing triple.” The weight of that hit him a little. How’d he manage that!?

“Yeah, just for the opening ceremony. I’m the lead when it comes to the flags so hehe, all eyes on me.” It was hard not to hide her nerves about the whole thing. “In terms of weight, it’s not too different from my spear. The routine is almost solid.”

Nick could tell she said that more for her benefit than his. It was funny. Eliza wasn’t one to waver most of the time. Then again, this was her first time doing this and second time competing in this tournament. “Hey, you survived cameras on you before. You fought me last year without choking.”

“Yeah, and lost miserably.” Eliza would never forget that day. “Thanks for the reminder.” She said sarcastically.

“Shut up, you got third on your first major tournament. You couldn’t ask for a better debut against veterans like myself and Val. Oh, thanks for sticking around Vee by the way.”

“Don’t mention it. I did it more for me than you anyways.”

“Ouch. You’re so cruel to your work husband.”

Eliza’s face turned a little red. She pointed her finger at him and sparked it with magical electricity. “Never say that again.”

“Hahaha! I’m just teasing. I still appreciate the help. Anyways, I gotta go get my stuff and bail before my mom makes due on a not so empty threat. Bye!” He ran off past her towards his classrooms.”

“Council room” Eliza said, making Nick stop halfway down the hall. “All your work...I put it in the council room for you.” Even from a distance she could see Nick’s eyes light up. Did it really not take much to make this boy happy?

“Awww Eliza-” she pointed at him again with Fire this time. Nick thought it best to quit while he was ahead and continued walking. Although, he made a little mental note for later. “Hmmm, I wonder if Eliza would be good at candle training. Fire is fire after all. Magic or dust wise.” Nick continued pondering the idea. Magic has always been cool to Nick. The fact he actually knew a person could do it was especially cool. If he could trade being the heir for being the first person with magic in centuries, he might not think twice about it. Nick couldn’t help but fantasize about a life with lower expectations and no heavy title. “Vee is right. I should really talk to my uncle about this. Well, after the tournament, or maybe do it beforehand then soften the blow by winning gold? That would be good.” He turned a corner, failing to check for on comers. “Look at me, talking as if I don’t have to face-” Nick ran head onto Valerie hard and stumbled back.

His friend dropped a bunch of hockey sticks. Some of which hammering her toes. “Ow!” She screamed, her team hearing from several feet away. “Hey watch where you’re- Nick?”

“Hey Val…” He said nasally. The impact had him rubbing his nose gently as it turned red. “Tackling you must be a nightmare. You're like a wall of tanks.” His strange analogy was ignored entirely. He looked up at Valerie and saw nothing but shock and irritation as she pulled him close, real close.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were sick? I’m the one who told you to get rest? I didn’t know it was bad enough for you to be bed ridden.”

“I uhh well you see…” Focusing was hard enough from the crash. The literal inch between them made Nick feel unprepared. Though her face was upset, he still found beauty in it. Especially with the hint of care he saw her turquoise eyes. “You said you wanted space. So I thought I wouldn’t bother you.” He finally said, hesitantly. Valerie didn’t seem too happy with his response.

“Idiot.” Valerie said, “If it’s about your health then blow up my phone for all care!” She huffed. Valerie’s cheeks turned a little red. “Are we clear?” Nick didn’t respond back. His eyes avoided her gaze and he seemed uncomfortable. “Nick? You alright?”

He looked towards her, a little nervous. “Can I make it up to you? Since you were worried and all?”

“What are you-”

“Not as a date if that’s what you’re afraid of.” Nick reassured, “Clearly I upset you so let me fix it by taking you to your favorite dine in restaurant? These last couple days I…missed you okay?” He could feel his face turning red. Platonic or not, this sounded like a confession. And yet Valerie hadn’t let go of him yet. It might’ve been his imagination, but he could’ve sworn she had gotten redder.

Valerie could feel herself being apart mentally. Nick wasn’t one to lie, but enduring was what he did best. How often did he think about her while he was sick? Did she make his fever worse? Was not telling him more painful for him than it was her? Valerie didn’t know. Making sense of any of it wasn’t important. “Nick I-” her voice was cut off by the murmurs of the halls. Athletes and onlookers passed by with their whispers and giggles. They had once again made a spectacle out of nothing. Another thing for idiots to gossip about and spread their lies. Valerie couldn’t stand it. Her blood began to boil. It never failed. Nick had made life, her life, a little more about him and less about her. Valerie finally let go of him, pushing him away. “No, sorry.” She said, clearly irritated. “I still want my space; and we both know how you are. Date or not, you just can’t help yourself but pull out the red carpet act like if I need you when I don’t. It’s pretty…” Nick didn’t let her finish. He turned his back to her. It was only then Valerie realized just how much she was mouthing off. “Wait that came out wrong.” She double backed, “I…”

“You don’t get to do that.” Nick finally bit back, “Telling me I should’ve called and that you care, only to push me away at your convenience. Now you’re berating me? What is with you lately!?” His voice echoed through the hall. It was only then he paid attention to his peers who quickly moved along the moment he tried meeting their gaze. Suddenly, something clicked. “Are you...embarrassed by me?” He said, mid revelation.

“You’re causing a scene, Nick.” She muffled, unusually reserved. “Listen, I just think the tournament takes priority is all.” Valerie lies, unknowingly letting her pride get the better of her. “I’m not embarrassed by you, honest.”

“So why do you brush me off every time people are around huh? I’m not a mind reader. Just come out with it.” He got no answer. Just silence while Valerie’s eyes looked for people who might still be watching. Now he was really annoyed, and he wasn’t even sure if it was because of Valerie or himself for getting worked up in the first place. “You know what? Forget it. Have it your way. I’m too ill to argue.” He said dismissively. Nick walked away from the argument to get what he came for. He was on a time limit anyway.

Valerie watched her friend turn the corner, hurt by her words. Or maybe the lack of them. Valerie turned around to go back to practice and stopped after only one step, stunned by the sight of her mother carrying extra sports gear.

Nora let out an exhausted sigh then smiled, “Oh boy. Here I thought your biggest worry today would be run down knee pads.” She laughed awkwardly at her own ice breaker. “Wanna talk about it later.”

Valerie got closer. She took the gear from her mother and went towards the gym. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

Nora let Valerie get away. There will be time for questions later. Nora put her hands on her hips and shook her head. “Teenagers.”

xxxx

Neither twin was having the best mood right now. Summer could feel her heart beating out of her chest the deeper into the woods she went. Ever since the free fall, Veronica had gone silent. Any attempt at conversion was ignored. She just kept walking deeper and deeper until everything started to look the same to Summer. Thankfully no grimm had appeared, but if they kept walking aimlessly like this… “I think this far enough, Veronica.” Summer said. Veronica actually listened and stopped before turning around.

“Yeah, this’ll do nicely.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out the diamond dust while dropping her bag. “I say it’s about time we get this over with. Catch.” She tossed the vial of dust, underhanded.

Summer nearly panicked as she caught it midair. “What are you-don’t do that! This stuff is dangerous!” If her nerves weren’t shot before, they were now.

“The dangerous part is yet to come.” Veronica engaged Ember Celica and brought her fists up. She would’ve liked to remove the jacket, but a piece of her mind told her it was far wiser to keep the extra layer of warmth and protection. “Well?”

“Yeah, what are you waiting for?”Said the alluring lethal voice inside of Summer’s head, sending chills up her spine. This wasn’t the cold’s doing. No, this was fear. Pure unkempt adrenaline that made her stomach twisted into knots and body shiver. “She’s asking for it, so let her have it. Better her than fear sweet Nicholas, right?”

Summer couldn’t stop shaking in place. This wasn't the plan. Not like this so much could go wrong. Was she really to fight Shiva again? Did Veronica stand a chance? Just how much stronger would Shiva’s grip be by doing this. If they failed, if she wasn’t strong enough then…that might be it. This wasn’t just her own life at stake either. Summer already thought Veronica might’ve died today. If it was by her own hands…

Bile threatened to come up and out of throat. Summer couldn’t even see straight anymore. The trees spun around her and her balance felt off. The whole world seemed to crush her under her own weight and tears-

“Lesson learned.” Called out Veronica, bringing reality back to Summer. She hadn’t realized it through her panic attack, but Veronica had gotten remarkably close to her, looking right into her soul and placing a hand to rub Summer’s pale cheek. Summer was so overwhelmed she began stammering. “W-What a...are y-you-”

“This terrifying fear that’s crippling you; the absolute anxiety of knowing how potentially dangerous it would be to pull a stunt like this? Maybe remember it the next time you wanna drag Nick into one of your reckless training, kay?” Veronica took the Diamond Dust away from Summer and returned it to her pocket. “Okay, now for the real reason we’re here. We need things for your outfit and so on.”

Summer watched Veronica nonchalantly lift her bag and walk off again. She couldn’t be it. This entire was a set up. A guilt trip into thinking more about Nick’s safety, and it worked. The humiliation of it all. What’s worse was Summer felt...like she deserved it? Did Nick ever feel this, this fear? How many times did she want to train her control and he went along with it? Why did he go along with it!? Her body felt weak, exhausted. Summer stumbled back against a tree, sliding down until she sat in the snow on the verge of breaking down. “Stop.” She said, weak and afraid. “I need a minute, so please stop.”

Veronica looked back to see the state Summer was in. No longer was she fighting back tears. Summer openly wept as she hugged her knees tightly to try and stop the shaking. She wasn’t the only one feeling guilty.

“Damnit Veronica! I didn’t think it would scare her this bad or make her cry!”Veronica walked back to the fragile girl and sat next to her quietly. This was a complete disaster. Emotional vulnerability was never a thing Veronica was good at doing or dealing with. She took a chance and used her tail to wipe Summer’s wet face, gaining her attention. “I ummm, wasn’t trying to...a panic attack was not in my plans. You looked a little frantic at first but then you spiraled in the blink of an eye. I’m…” Veronica looked away, her ears folded in shame. “I fucked up. My bad. Nick told me to take it easy on you and here I am being worse than usual.”

Summer sniffled. She wasn’t exactly sure how to respond to being comforted. Especially by Veronica of all people. Still, it felt nice. Different from others. That’s for sure. “I’m sorry.”

That was out of left field. “What?” Said Veronica, turning back around. “Umm I don’t think you know how apologies work. I mean I barely do, but this isn’t right.”

“I said some things I didn’t mean about you yesterday. I was angry at myself and directed it to you. I may not know what bothers you but I know you probably have shit in your life going on too.”

“Yeah well...we’re famous. Problems come with the territory, and puberty.”

“Eh, can’t relate. High regen and pain tolerance. I don’t get cramps, or get sick. The only upside to getting blasted with dust no scientist can identify.”

“I probably shouldn’t envy you but maaaan, little jealous. Not gonna lie.”

The girls shared a small chuckle for what it was worth. Summer sniffled again and rubbed her eyes. “Ya know, we don’t really...talk, do we? Not since we were five. I’m sure there’s a lot of things we could learn.”

Veronica couldn’t suppress her unwilling groan. Bonding was not on her agenda. However, Veronica couldn’t help but think about Nick’s words and her promise to him. “Let’s make a truce? We have to spend time together. There’s no getting around it.”

“I’m painfully aware…” Summer moaned. “What’s the truce?”

Veronica stood up and reached for Summer’s hand, lifting her up as well. “I will do my damnedest to be less confrontational if you do as well. Also if you are willing to explain this whole Shiva business to me, then… I’ll explain my faunus business. I suppose.” Her tail instinctively wrapped around her waist for security. She could tell by Summer’s expression that she was definitely intrigued. It was warranted. Veronica didn’t speak much about it on purpose. Now she was offering it on a silver platter. “Well?” She said anxiously”

Summer retook Veronica’s hand and shook it. “Alright, truce.”

#rwby #rwby au #rwby twin snowflakes #summer schnee #weiss schnee #yang xiao long #nicholas schnee #val valkyrie #veronica belladonna #nora valkyrie

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oriigami · 5 years ago

Text

looking to the sky to save me

[Part three of my wings au, featuring Law this time! Also on ao3 here.] [There’s also Part 1 (ASL) and part 2 (Strawhats).]

“Come on, just show us!” Baby Five’s voice was wheedling and eager, her half-black half-white plover wings fluttering excitedly. “We won’t tell nobody what they look like!”

“Wonder if he doesn’t have any,” Buffalo said. “Izzat why you won’t show us?”

Law hunched his shoulders and glared harder. Baby Five flinched and teared up a little, which was marginally satisfying. “I already told you why. Where I’m from-”

“Yeah, but who cares ‘bout some old culture thing? Your country’s gone, right? Not like anybody’s gonna know,” Buffalo said with a level of oblivious bluntness that was almost impressive. Law’s fingers twitched for a knife.

Baby Five frowned up at Buffalo from under his arm. “Buffalo, that’s mean.”

“Oh. You should still show us, though,” Buffalo said.

“If you don’t,” Baby Five added, “we’ll tell ‘bout how you tried to kill Cora-san that one time.”

“Yeah!”

Law gritted his teeth hard enough that he could almost feel them creak. “Fine. But-” he continued, before either of them could look too triumphant, “You gotta promise not to tell anybody. I’m serious. I’ll kill you if you tell.”

Baby Five crossed her heart. “Promise!”

“Yeah, promise,” Buffalo echoed absently, already leaning to the side to see Law’s back.

Law scowled, but reached up to unfasten the cloak he wore. It was a shabby thing, scavenged out of a dump somewhere along the line, but it worked well enough to hide his wings, especially since they were smaller than they should have been.

(Before the crawling, creeping white, one of the first visible signs of amber lead poisoning had been the stunted wings of the people of Flevance.)

He shrugged off the fabric, looked down at the concrete rather than at the eager faces of Buffalo and Baby Five, and focused on letting his wings stretch out slowly. The movement sent shooting, cramping pains down to his shoulders, both from how long they’d been tightly folded and from the buildup of toxins in the joints. Moving them had hurt for months now.

“Whoa,” Buffalo said. “Weird.”

“Are they like that cause you’re sick? Did it make your feathers fall out?” Baby Five asked, sounding genuinely distressed by the prospect.

Law glanced over at one of his wings- small and skeletal, featherless, skin so deep blue it edged on black stretched over bone. The white patches had grown since the last time he’d looked at them properly, starkly pale against the dark skin. “No,” he said. “They’ve always been like that.”

Buffalo reached out as though to touch one, eyes big behind his glasses, and Law slapped his hand away with a snarl, yanking his wings closed again despite the shooting pain of the sudden movement. “There. You’ve seen ‘em. Now leave me alone about i-”

A hand closed around the collar of his shirt and yanked him off his feet, cutting him off mid-sentence, and he yelped, struggling to twist around as he was dragged away. He only needed a glimpse of black feathers to confirm who it was.

“Corazon? Oi! Lemme go! Put me down! What do you want?”

Corazon didn’t answer- obviously- and didn’t even seem to notice Law’s struggling attempts to twist free of his grip. Law had never resented the slow seeping loss of strength over the past months so much. His kicks had about as much effect as if he’d been fighting against solid concrete.

Corazon turned into an alley, and tossed him to the ground, turning his back. Law stared up at him for a moment without moving, wary of what he might do next.

Corazon had the biggest wings he’d ever seen, except maybe Doflamingo’s- a thick, unkempt mantle of solid black crow’s feathers that dominated his silhouette. His wingspan was as ridiculous as his height, which just made it extra problematic that his wings had a tendency to snap open on instinct whenever he fell over.

Law had never seen him fly. Nor Doflamingo, now that he thought about it- not with his wings, at least, massive though they were. Only with his strings.

“What’s your name?”

Law startled, and looked around for the source of the voice. There was nobody else in the alleyway, though, besides the two of them, but that meant-

“Your full name. You’ve got a middle initial, haven’t you?”

There was no way-

Corazon finally turned around, huge black wings fanning out with the movement, filling the alleyway wall to wall, and said, “Law, what’s your name?”

Law answered without really even meaning to, the words stunned out of him before he could think to hold them back. “Trafalgar… D. Water Law.”

Corazon nodded, like that was all the confirmation he needed- for what, Law didn’t know- and sat down on a nearby crate. Even sitting, he positively towered over Law. He tossed a bundle of cloth underhand, and Law caught it instinctively, realizing a few moments later that it was his grubby brown cloak.

“Put that back on,” Corazon said. “Quickly. You need to make sure Doffy never sees those wings of yours. You’ve done good so far, but it’s only a matter of time. You need to get away from here.”

Law did no such thing, standing frozen with the ball of cloth in his hands. “You can talk.”

“Yeah.”

“Since when? Does Doflamingo know? Does anybody?”

Corazon sighed, exhaling a cloud of smoke, and leaned forward, mantling his stupidly big wings around the two of them so they blocked off the alley on either side, blocking the conversation from the view of passers-by.

Things Law learned in the ensuing conversation: Corazon was a liar; Corazon had a devil fruit; Corazon said Doflamingo was a monster; Corazon was a liar, and Doflamingo didn’t know. And-

“If Doffy found out about those wings of yours,” Corazon said, “he’d kill you on the spot.”

And Corazon was a liar liar liar, but something about the flat, grave seriousness in his voice when he said that sent a slight chill of fear up Law’s spine, enough to make him tug the cloak back around his shoulders and pull his stunted wings even closer against his back. He glared up at Corazon, wordlessly demanding explanation.

Corazon waved a hand, trailing cigarette smoke from his fingers, accidentally brushing too close to a wing and singing a few feathers before slapping the fire out with his free hand. “Wings like yours are characteristic of a certain… family. The clan of D. That’s why I asked you your name. I wanted to be sure.”

He took another drag on his cigarette, and sighed out an exhale thick with smoke. “There’s a place- the place where Doffy and I grew up- where people with those wings, and that name, are considered demons. God’s natural enemies. Their wings are supposed to be proof of it.”

Law took a jolting step back, felt himself paling under the white stains on his skin. Demon monster demon-

He ran- dodged Corazon’s attempt to grab him, ducked under a flailing wing and sprinted for the docks.

As it turned out, he didn’t get away for long.

“I really wouldn’t,” Corazon said out of nowhere, some weeks or months into their stupid pointless voyage, yanking Law’s attention from the vast expanse of sea and sky over to his erstwhile kidnapper.

“What?” he snarled, leveling a glare at Corazon, who as usual didn’t even seem to notice.

“Flying away,” Corazon said. “That’s what you were thinking, right? Wouldn’t work. Not with wings like yours. You’d barely make it ten feet.”

“Shut up!” Law snapped, and, something raw and hurt entirely too honest working its way into his voice despite his best efforts, “You think I don’t know that? I’m not stupid, Corazon.”

He folded his arms around his knees, hugging them tight to his body, and glared mutinously at the floor of the little boat. Of course he knew what it meant, to have wings stunted and fragile and so riddled with heavy-metal buildup it ached to so much as move them.

It had happened to Lami and all the other children of Flevance, too. There had been hopes, back when Flevance was still foolish enough to have hope, that they might be able to cure the sickness in time for the damage to be reversible, that the wings might grow out as normal once the poison could be removed. Children’s wings were usually developed enough to let them take at least short flights by the time they were ten. Law was years past that.

“Of course I know I can’t fly.”

He shot another defiant, poisonous look over at Corazon, silently daring him to respond- and was caught entirely off-guard by the look on Corazon’s face, frozen for a half-second in something that looked guilty and shocked and dangerously close to sympathetic before it smoothed out again, the unidentifiable expression vanishing as he turned to glance out at the ocean.

“...Sorry,” Corazon said.

Law blinked. Then he said, “Hey, what the fuck was that-” and that’s as far as he got before Corazon snapped his fingers to toss up a bubble of silence between them, ending the conversation rather definitively.

The weeks eked on, one after another, and Corazon became Cora-san, and Law learned to bury his face in the thick black mantle of Cora-san’s wings to block out the smell of ash from the burning hospitals and the memories of the White City that it always brought, and things got better little by little, even as his fever rose and his strength waned.

Cora-san’s feathers were a mess, all broken and bent and burned. When Law had first joined the Family, it had just been one more factor that made Cora-san’s oversized crow-winged silhouette so uncanny and intimidating, but now, for some reason, it just made his fingers twitch. He’d never had feathers, but he couldn’t help but look at the mess Cora-san had made of his own wings now and again and frown at how uncomfortable it seemed.

The campfire was burning warm, trying to chase away the shudders and the cough that had settled in Law’s lungs lately and not entirely succeeding. Cora-san was smoking a cigarette, staring out over the ocean.

Law quietly shifted himself a little to face Cora-san’s back, his big fanned-out black wings- it brought back memories, of a knife and a newspaper and a red spray of blood, and he bit back an unexpected flash of guilt.

He reached out, and wordlessly pulled a burned feather loose. Cora-san didn’t say anything, though he must have noticed. He just kept smoking his cigarette, occasionally tapping the ashes loose, as Law began to steadily work his way across the wide black expanse of his wingspan. Before long, the dusty ground around them was scattered with damaged black feathers, thick as snowfall.

Law didn’t say anything. He didn’t say, This is a family ritual. I remember, I used to do it for my sister.

He didn’t say, So why are your wings such a mess, why haven’t they been cleaned in years, when you’ve still got a brother?

(He didn’t need to ask, really. He knew why.)

(Letting someone clean your wings necessitated turning your back on them.)

Working his way down the outer edge of one wing, his fingers reached a joint- then he paused, a frown flickering across his face, and prodded carefully at the skin.

He’d grown up in a hospital, after all, trailing in his parents’ footsteps and lurking in their examination rooms, reading charts and diagrams and rocking up on his tip-toes as his mother took his hand and ran his fingers along bones and joints, or listening intently as his father narrated his way through simple surgeries. He knew how the human body was supposed to fit together.

“Cora-san?” he said, in a voice that came out smaller and more uncertain that he would have liked. “...What happened to your wings?”

“Ah?” Cora-san glanced back over his shoulder, looking puzzled. “What?”

“Your wings,” Law said, studying them with more attention now, finding the breaks and irregularities easily now that he was looking for them, something sinking a little in his chest at the extent of the damage. “They’ve been broken, at the joints- here, and here, and here- especially badly here…”

Cora-san was quiet for a long moment before he said, “I didn’t realize you could tell that.” Law couldn’t see his face from where he was sitting.

“...I was gonna be a doctor, once,” Law said by way of explanation, and didn’t quite manage to not sound sad when he said it. He hastily changed the subject, unwilling to dwell too long on what could have been. “But- these breaks- they’re all healed wrong-”

“It was a long time ago,” Cora-san said, like that made it remotely alright.

How long ago? How old were you? Law didn’t ask. Instead he pressed his lips together tight and then said, almost automatically, “Did you even see a doctor?”

“Eventually,” Cora-san said after a moment, taking another inhale from his cigarette. “They did their best.” He looked back over his shoulder again, and something in Law’s expression must have worried him, because his brow furrowed slightly. “Oi, Law, don’t look like that.”

“But-”

“Doffy’s angry enough for the both of us,” Cora-san cut in, and Law’s mouth snapped shut.

Oh.

They were both quiet for a moment, the conversation killed completely by the weight of Doflamingo’s name dropped into the middle of it. Law’ hands kept working on autopilot, plucking away damaged and burned feathers, just because it was something to do, just because if he didn’t his hands would ball themselves up into fists so tight his fingernails cut his skin.

“So,” Cora-san said into the silence, “...you wanted to be a doctor?”

Law bit down on his lower lip so hard he tasted blood, and then said, “...Yeah.”

“Tell me about that?”

And after a halting pause, Law did.

(“He’s going to be free,” Rosinante said, coughing up blood between words. “There’s no birdcage you can hold him in. Not anymore.”)

(Law couldn’t see it, but even as he died, Rosinante’s wings were unfolded to their full width, cloaking and shielding the treasure at his back, feathers pitch black against the deathly paleness of the snow, and he might not have ever been quite as tall as his brother but in that moment his wings were greater than Doflamingo’s had ever been, and-)

(“He’s going to fly.”)

(And then the gunshot.)

Cora-san died.

And Law lived.

Because that was how it went- everyone he cared about died, and he didn’t, by some trick of fate or joke of luck.

Once he’d cried himself hoarse and wiped his eyes and hardened his heart (he was so tired of losing people-) and found himself shelter, he finally set to the grim, ugly task of cleaning himself out, piece by piece. It was less a race against the clock and more a slow, grinding march, carried out by shaking hands and punctuated by relentless bouts of fitful unconsciousness.

The years of sickness had already wreaked havoc on his stamina, and it seemed use of his new abilities rapidly drained what little he had left. He had to start from what was most important- head, heart, lungs- and work his way out. He had to be thorough, had to be sure to claw every gram and speck of toxic white out of his system.

So it was edging on days of feverish work and intermittent consciousness before he even thought about his wings.

He cleaned them out like all the rest of him, but without much thought or hope. His hands moved on autopilot, because he was so tired, but he felt like he couldn’t sleep, really sleep, until he got this done, until he was finally clean. Until there was no more poison left in him.

Once he was done, his wings were still as batlike and featherless as they’d always been, and still far too small for his age, but the creeping white patches were gone completely, and that was all that mattered.

It had been customary, in Flevance, for children to cover their wings in public until they reached the age of apprenticeship, at thirteen. There was some ancient reason behind the rule, Law was sure, but he’d long forgotten it, and there was no one else left to remember. But all that mattered then and there was that he’d clung to the tradition even after everything else was reduced to rubble and ash, whether out of habit or some desperate grasp for familiarity he couldn’t say.

If Cora-san was right about what Doflamingo would have done, that choice, the choice of a lost little boy still clutching for the ghosts of home, might have saved his life.

He’d lost track of time while travelling with Cora-san, he realized with a muffled kind of surprise. It was the first time in years he hadn’t been counting down the days to his own expiration date. Which he didn’t have anymore, a fact that still had yet to fully register. He had years, now.

He’d lost track of time, but he figured he was probably close enough to thirteen for it to count.

When he was finally strong enough to make his way off the island, he left his ragged cloak behind, and let his wings see the sun.

Law built himself a family crew much the same way he’d survived up until this point: piece by piece and mostly by accident.

It was good to have other people around, though, even if they were mostly idiots. They were fun, and spending time with them (and stitching them up, more often than not) kept him busy, kept his mind in the present instead of lingering in the past. He was never short of trouble with them around, that was for sure.

So, in Law’s opinion, it made sense that it took him as long as it did to realize his wings had started growing again.

His fledgeling crew disagreed.

“What do you mean, you didn’t know?” Shachi asked incredulously, squinting at Law like he was waiting for Law to give up on the joke. Law glared back, midnight blue wings arching up indignantly around his shoulders because they were big enough for that now, what-

“I mean I didn’t know! They were stunted until I was thirteen, of course I figured they were just done growing! I didn’t think about it!” Law snapped. “It’s not like we have mirrors around here!”

“They’ve been growing for months, dude,” Penguin interjected. “We all noticed. I figured you were just like, a late bloomer and didn’t like flying or something.”

Bepo raised a paw. “Um, I didn’t notice.”

“Well, of course you didn’t,” Penguin said, “you don’t even have wings-”

“Hang on,” Shachi interrupted, and he was starting to smile, grey-black wings twitching with sudden excitement. Law wasn’t sure if that was better or worse than the flat look of disbelief it had replaced. “Hang on. Does that mean- you’ve never flown before?”

Law glared and said, “Why’s it matter?” which was as good as confirmation and they all knew it.

Shachi grinned wider. “Cause that means we get to teach you!”

Penguin pumped a fist. “Yes! Finally something we know and you don’t!”

“I don’t need your help,” Law said, tightening his wings around his shoulders. “I can figure it out fine on my own-”

Shachi shrugged. “I mean, yeah, probably, but you don’t have to.”

“Yeah!” Penguin agreed, grabbing Law by the wrist, already tugging him towards the door. “C’mon!”

“Can I come too?” Bepo asked hopefully.

“‘Course!” Shachi said, which was the correct answer, because Law might have had to kill him if he’d made Bepo sad. “You’re strong, you can catch him if he falls.”

Penguin nodded sagely. “Yeah, everybody falls a couple times when they’re learning.”

“Or a couple dozen times, in your case,” Shachi said with a grin.

“Shut up, like you were any better!”

Law tugged his hat down lower over his face to hide the smile tugging at his lips, and let himself be pulled along.

(He only fell three times before he got the hang of it, and immediately resolved to never let Penguin and Shachi forget it.)

“If it’s the marines you’re worried about, they’ve already surrounded the building,” Law said, legs crossed up on the row of seats ahead of him as chaos descended upon the Sabaody Auction House.

Strawhat startled a little, turning to look at him. “Huh? Who’re you?” And then, before Law could answer- “Hey, your wings are kinda like mine!”

It was true. Law’s midnight blue wings blended in with the low lighting of the auction house while Strawhat’s fiery red stood out like a beacon, but if you were looking closely it would have been impossible not to notice that they were both featherless, draconic- lizards among birds.

God’s natural enemies, Law thought, and smirked.

“You’re one of the Eleven Supernovas,” Nico Robin observed from her captain’s side, dark grey robin wings held close. Her eyes were watchful, cautious in a way Law liked but didn’t trust (too familiar). “Trafalgar,” and there was a little pause, almost unnoticeable, a fill-in-the-blank, “Law.”

So you know, do you? It made sense, he supposed, given who her captain was. He grinned just a little wider and said, “The marines have a base on this island; they knew we were here as soon as we arrived. Not every day you get a chance to catch five Supernovas at once, I suppose, though I’m sure they never expected someone would dare to strike a Celestial Dragon.”

“You’ve got a bear,” said Strawhat, incongruously starry-eyed given the situation, and he hadn’t heard a word out of Law’s mouth, had he? Oh, well. Hardly Law’s problem.

After that, everything descended quickly into chaos, and Law didn’t spare much more attention for Strawhat beyond keeping a curious eye on his combat capabilities as the two of them and Eustass cleared out the marine perimeter.

But he couldn’t quite keep his gaze from catching on those bright red wings, and thinking.

God’s natural enemies.

When he later recognized those same red wings on the live feed of Marineford, as the marine headquarters shook itself to pieces and the war shifted from battle to bloodbath, it barely took him a moment to make the decision.

#my writing #opfic #ill fly away #opfanfic #trafalgar law #corazon #donquixote rocinante #op #one piece #heart pirates #long post

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bbq-hawks-wings · 4 years ago

Note

Wouldn't it be absolutely hilarious if I spent all this time thinking "oh the MLA wants freedom, like Hawks does but their methods aren't something he can agree with :( oh well" (btw, I fully recognize how ridiculously wrong I am on so many levels, but this was before we found out what they're actually like) but in actuality, their goals lined up much more with what Takami wanted. "Animosity and resentment towards the current system." "Bloodline that managed to unite all these people."

(Continue) *cough* dare I say, hating quirk restrictions, wanting to fly freely (hey who ever said Takami didn't have wings either, and its a metaphor for doing whatever you want, Spinner explained it as the core of villainy, or at least the Lov) + like, Harima's bloodline inspiring various thieves around the country? United huh? *cough* *nudge nudge* seems like he'd be a lot more familiar with this kinda stuff then? I have one more thing to comment on, and its the style of text used.

(Continued) I like how Hawks instantly recognizes that the world they plan to recreate is reminiscent to the one AFO ruled over, and that its literally going to be his second coming because I don't think any of them would directly say that? Its supposed to be Shigaraki ruling, and I know it's not meant to be literal (tho it ends up being later) he can tell just from what their plans will result in that it would look just like those times. (Takami's age makes him familiar with it, pre-All Might)

(Continued) this is getting longer than I expected, think Keigo heard any stories about that? Villains love gossiping about the old days don't they. Like the guy complaining before Giran showed him the video of Stain. Oh right, I wanted to ask (once more, could be nothing) if there was any significance to the italicized text and bold blocky text used in the chapter? Its used in the page with their "new world" and Twice. Like Hori's focused fact vs extra clarity/behind the scenes explanation.

(Same anon so you can add the ask if u want) *facepalm* I use the same phrases SO OFTEN, haha sorry. I went back to that chapter to read since I got curious. Oh that's what you meant! Huh, y'know the book thing is a little more interesting now. The implication of how he instantly recognized it as an ideology capable of spreading (did Takami follow it, or some kind) villains with ideals are always more problematic. Oh my god, YOURE RIGHT!! That's where that line was inspired from :0 I need a min-

IM SORRY FOR SPAMMING YOU, last ask I hope omg. I can't stop rambling! But when you pointed out that line! That was like a microphone dropping on stage, like getting doused with cold water, like suddenly understanding how a math problem works- I am stupefied. That is not the kind of line the Commission would teach. Hawks does things his own way. That sounds like a conclusion he came to from personal experience. Didn't he say it was?! (non-viz) Hawks. Hey Hawks. Personal experience when exactly?

(This was in response to my post justifying that Hawks may get his perspective on villains from his time with his father.)

Was it the fanslation that said his philosophy on speed was his own conclusion/experience? I'm afraid I don't remember. If they're different it would be interesting to know how each translator inserted/omitted that because it's an innocuous but important detail that I don't think would be hidden far in the text given the context.

Takami, Takami, Big ol' Question Mark Takami... I can only wallow in fanon for so long! Are we going to meet him soon or not? Is he bird? Too much bird? Or just dude? Does he look like Hawks? Does he have a core ideology or motivation for his crimes? What's his rating on the "evil asshole" meter?

And a new question popped into my head as I was thinking about the HPSC taking Hawks in away from his family as a child and taking his name:

Did they do that for his own safety?

Think about it: what if Takami was part of some major villain ring not unlike the Shie Hissaikai? The boss (or maybe at least someone important?) gets nabbed, thrown in the slammer, and the feds took his promising young kid.

Do you think a prominent gang is just going to let that go? If the promise of his entire family living in comfort (always felt weird and out of place) was a reference to them being in witness protection - that paints a whole 'nother dark shade to Hawks' past.

#she speaks #let's talk hawks #thief takami

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is0gild · 4 years ago

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Ice Cream and Fire Oven Pizza - Chapter 19

Pairing: Elsa x Lea/Axel || Side Pairing: Riku x OC

Summary: Modern AU. She's an introvert ball of nerves who works at Ice Palace, a mall food court ice cream shop. He's the outgoing, sassy goofball who works at the Pizza Planet across the way. Hilarity, snark, and fluffy romcom hijinks ensue.

Word Count: 9,165

FIRST CHAPTER || PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

Credit for super friggin’ cute and super friggin’ amazing cover art goes to the super friggin’ talented ky-jane here on tumblr!

Neverland, as I was currently discovering, was a huge indoor playground at the Dusk Town Center mall. A place where children never had to grow up, or so its big overhead sign boasted. Its vast range of diversions for the little ones included such attractions as a jungle gym in the shape of a large comical skull, a huge green plastic alligator that had a slide built into its long back, and monkey bars supported at either end by large, spooky prop trees. Off in one corner, there were even synthetic, cute yet culturally problematic teepees for the tiny tots to crawl around and hide in. But its crowning jewel seemed to be the kiddie train that ran along the tracks circling the entire play area. Each of its carts were actually little pirate ships that could fit one child in it, maybe two if they were really little.

Since the playground was in the middle of a wide open mall walkway, many stores surrounded it, such as an antique shop by the name of Cave of Wonders. Beyond the rusty brass lamps in its window and past an old, tacky purple carpet draping off a shelf, a friendly young woman with long black hair tied back into a two-sectioned ponytail and wearing a turquoise crop top could be seen running the counter.

Next door to that was Game-A-Saurus Rex, a video game store sporting a green t-rex mascot as part of its logo. An absolute giant of an employee with messy brown hair was currently setting up a display pyramid but his meaty, clumsy hands accidentally knocked it over, wrecking it. I got the feeling this wasn't the first time from the look of being one hundred percent done he was receiving from his silver haired coworker with mismatched eyes.

Neighboring them, I was a bit surprised to discover there was even an Esmerelda's Secrets here as well, a… ahem, lingerie store, to use a more PG term. I found its location so near to the play area to be a bit of a questionable mall layout choice.

I sighed, paper bag lunch crinkling in my grip as I glanced around.

Where was he?

"Are you sure this is where he told you he wanted to meet up?" Kristoff asked beside me, his eyes scanning about as well. Thankfully, he'd forgiven me by now for the minor phone-hurling fiasco and we were back on speaking terms again.

"Positive," I fished my mobile out of my pocket with my free hand, rereading Lea's text asking me to head to Neverland once my lunch break had started.

Since I'd never heard of it before, I'd asked Kristoff (him being the closest person at hand since he'd been working the Ice Palace registers with me) if he'd known what it was. I figured he could at least point me in the right direction, which would be faster than looking at a mall directory. Instead, since he was getting off shift the same time I was going on lunch, he'd offered to walk me there, saying it was on his way anyway.

But now here we were and a certain redhead was nowhere to be seen.

"Bah, I'm sure he'll turn up any second now," Kristoff shrugged off with a laugh. I said nothing, just continued to frown down at my phone before raising my eyes to take another look around. Shoving one of his hands into his pocket while he used the other to ruffle the hair at the back of his head, Kristoff said, "So… your sister…"

"Anna? What about her?" I muttered distractedly, gaze still jumping from face to unfamiliar face. Come on, Lea was a friggin' mountain with hair like a beacon that could light a path home for even the most wayward of lost ships. The guy should have been sticking out like a sore thumb.

He pursed his lips to one side, slightly widened eyes darting about now. "She's… well, she's really… neat." I blinked, slowly looking over at him now. He stiffened, then gave a weak chuckle, "Did I say neat? Not neat, I meant, ah… pretty!" His face blanched. "Pretty… pretty, pretty swell, that is! Yeah, a real bangarang," insert his wince here, "gal that, uh... that's really, er…"

Annnnnd now he was blushing. What was with him, anyway? It was so unlike him to be getting all tongue-tied and-

Oh.

Oh dear. I knew what this was.

Someone had a crush.

Ugh, why did I have to be the one to break his heart by telling him my sister was already in a relationship?

"...anyway," his voice cracked and he coughed, beating a fist to his chest before trying again. "Anyway, what I'm trying to say, or… rather ask is... would you know if, ah… is... is she seeing any-" his idly wandering gaze landed on something past me and he froze, words dying on his tongue. Then his eyelids drooped. "...I think I found your boyfriend."

My brow furrowed at the face he was making before I turned on my heel, following his gaze.

I heard them before I saw them. Cheerful whoops and hollers echoing from the plastic tunnel over the railroad tracks, heralding the emerging train of pirate ships. Then there they were: Lea and Roxas, taking up a full boat each as the locomotive chugged along, their hands thrown up high over their heads as they cackled in almost maniac glee. The two kids in the cart behind them - a carrot top boy in a green cap embroidered with a red feather logo and a little blonde girl wearing toy fairy wings - were giving them funny looks.

I spluttered, my fingers shooting up to smother and hide the grin I was fighting. This was behavior I did not want to encourage.

There he was, ladies and gentlemen. My bad-boy boyfriend in all his glory.

I hope the Duke's spy wasn't here to witness this.

Scratch that, I'd rather no one were here to witness this.

"Those goddamn morons have been at this for over ten minutes now," I heard a grumble from a familiar voice close by. I looked to my right to discover Xion standing there, watching them with a scowl and one eye twitching. As the train drew near, she called out flatly, "Oh yeah, looking real classy there, guys!"

"We're posh as fuck!" Lea replied smugly with a pinky raised, heedless of what nearby young and impressionable ears might overhear. Then his eyes drifted past her to notice me for the first time. His already beaming face did the impossible and brightened even further. As his little pirate ship choo-chooed its way past us, he cried out, "There you are, El! 'Bout time! We're celebrating!"

"El? Who's El? No, you must have me mistaken for someone else. I don't know you," I shook my head, taking a step back. "Quick, let's get out of here," I hissed to Kristoff, snatching his arm with one hand and using the other to hide my face as I tried to make a hasty retreat.

"Oh-ho, no ya don't! You're not getting away that easily!" I heard Lea laugh behind me. I hazarded a quick glance over my shoulder to see him struggling to get out of the cart - he was wedged in there pretty good, seeing as how those boats were never meant to withstand a man of his considerable stature. However, he finally managed to wiggle himself free and jump off the moving kiddie train, stumbling over the railing surrounding it and leaving poor Roxas behind looking quite distraught at having been abandoned.

Then he was charging towards me and I spun around to face him, defensively throwing my hands up in front of me. "Got ya!" he declared triumphantly, snagging me by the waist, my arms instinctively going to hug his neck as he lifted me up and spun me around a couple times.

What was even happening?

"Right," Kristoff said. Don't ask me how, but I could distinctly hear the eyeroll in his voice. "I think I'm gonna go now."

He walked off and I frowned after him as Lea put me back down, though his arms still kept me trapped against him. Then I shrugged. Kristoff's wee crush would have to be a problem for another day. Looking up at Lea, I shook my head with a barely suppressed smile, "What has you so giddy?"

"I got my test grade back today," he chirped, nuzzling his nose to mine for all the crowded mall to see.

"Your test?" I cocked my head at him. Then it clicked. "Oh, the one I helped you study for? You passed?"

"Passed nothing, I aced that sucker! Made it my bitch and it was all thanks to you!" And with that, he was hoisting me up for another twirl.

"Dude, what the hell?!" a shout suddenly rang out across the mall before Roxas came bursting out of the press of shoppers, sneakers screeching to a halt in front of us as he glared at Lea. "Can't believe you just ditched me like that! I looked like a total dumbass riding that thing all by myself!"

"Oh sure," Xion deadpanned at his side, "cuz you looked like a regular Einstein before as a grown-ass man riding around in the widdle choo-choo train with another grown-ass man."

Roxas crossed his arms and stuck his nose up in the air with a harrumph. "You're just jelly cuz we didn't invite you."

She scoffed, "You didn't invite me cuz I turned you guys down the last ten times you tried to drag me onto that dumb thing because I didn't want to look stupid."

"Your face looks stupid!"

Xion lunged at him, but Lea had already put me down and was snagging them both by the scruff of their shirt collars, dragging them apart from each other. He sighed, "Kiddos, please, would you start acting like the grown-ups that you are?"

Said the adult man who'd just been joyriding in the kiddie train.

Seriously, how were these three even college students? They all acted like a bunch of preschoolers.

"Ha, fat chance with this dope," Xion snerked, reaching across to flick Roxas in the forehead.

"Why you-" he broke free of Lea's grasp. Xion gasped and managed to squirm loose herself, bolting and squealing with laughter as she disappeared into the crowd, Roxas hot on her heels.

"Oi, kids these days. I give up," Lea grumbled, shaking his head and tossing his hands up in defeat. "Now where were we?" Looking back at me, his eyes lit up. "Ah yes," he bent forward, bringing us nose to nose with a tiny smirk, "my reward."

Both eyebrows shot up my forehead and I staggered back a bit. "Your… reward?"

"Mm-hm!" he nodded, grin twitching wider. "For kicking that test's ass, I get a reward! It's standard girlfriend protocol."

I blinked, "...it is?"

"Didn't ya read your dating handbook?"

...there's a handbook?!

Wait. No. That was just a joke.

And wishful thinking on my part.

Because I mean, seriously, how much easier would my life be right now if I could consult a handbook?

That aside, I had to get back to the matter at hand: some kind of reward for Lea. Which was my duty as the girlfriend. Apparently. What did that even entail? What was it supposed to be? What was I supposed to do? My face paled and my hands clenched. This was too much responsibility to be thrust onto me all of a sudden! What, was I supposed to buy him something? Or… maybe this was this another PDA situation? I mean, I hadn't made a move in that department since the roller rink a couple days ago. If tripping and crashing into him even counted. Which, personally, I was still chalking up as one for the win column. Had to take my small victories wherever I could! That said… perhaps it was high time I gave it another go?

Yes. Okay. I was going to do this. This… I was going to do.

My gaze hardened and my nostrils flared slightly as I started taking deep, sharp breaths, psyching myself up.

I got this. No more putting it off. Be strong! Be brave! Carpe diem! Seize the day! Grab the bull by the horns! Strike while the iron's hot!

Lea snerked, straightening up, "Woah, El, your face! Relax! I'm kidding! Just teasing ya like I always-"

YOLO!

I dropped my lunch bag, grabbed his head in both hands, yanked him down and kissed him.

...on the nose.

Way to bury the lead there, I know.

But hey, it still counted! Let me have this!

I held it for the space of a few thundering heartbeats before I pulled back, releasing his face and doing my best to ignore the slight jitters I felt from the adrenaline surge.

Lea was stock-still and just giving me a blank, wide-eyed stare.

Huh… not the reaction I was expecting.

A few long seconds ticked by where nothing happened. My eyes darted about nervously. Then I slowly, awkwardly picked my lunch sack back up off the floor. And still nothing from him. Nada. Not one peep.

Should… should I say something?

That's when he jolted upright (startling me half to death, I might add) and brought both his hands up to cup his nose, spinning around so his back was to me now.

Okay, really, really not the reaction I was expecting. At all. Just what-

Then it hit me.

I hadn't asked his permission first! And after he'd been so careful with me all this time too! Apparently I couldn't even return the favor! Fudge, this was like the Kissident all over again. Except worse! At least then, it'd been an accident. This time I'd done it on purpose! This was premeditated! Not to mention this now made me a repeat offender! A… a serial kisser! Would my reign of smooching terror never cease?

Anxiety eating up at me now like a swarm of angry ants in the pit of my stomach, I bit down on my bottom lip and took a hesitant step forward. "Lea?" I asked, my voice small. "Did I do something wrong or-"

"Nope! No, it was good. Really, really good," he said quickly, voice tight and muffled still by his hands. Then I heard him puff out a slow breath, watched his arms fall to his sides and he whipped around towards me once more, huge smile splitting his face in two. "So good, in fact, it's high-five worthy. Whaddya say, wanna high-five? Let's high-five." He held his palm up in front of me. I wordlessly stared back at him, arching an eyebrow. He was being weird, even for him. And why was he talking so fast? He hastily dropped his hand, "Not high-five. Forget that. That's stupid. We should, uh… we should go. Wanna go? Let's go."

As he snagged my free hand in his and tugged me into a walk beside him, I tipped my head to the left and uncertainly gave him some side-eye. "...where are we going?"

Seemingly already recovered, his grip shifted to instead hook our pinkies together as he shot me a wink. "Where all couples sneak off to whenever they have a lil free time. Somewhere dark, secret and secluded so," here he raised his voice for all to hear over the mall hub-bub, "we can make out!"

My feet faltered and I stumbled, barely catching myself as my face spontaneously broke out into its best impersonation of a tomato. "M-make out?!"

He snorted, bending close to my ear and whispering, "Calm down, only said it for show. We'll just find some place to lay low until your lunch is over and let the gossip mill churn." Straightening back up to his full height, he beamed, "Sound good, my knuddelbärchen?" A crease formed between my eyebrows and he chuckled. "Go on, ask. Ya know ya want to."

I sighed, "And knuddelbärchen is…?"

"German for cuddle bear," he pinched my cheek.

"No."

"You can sleep on it, then get back to me."

I rolled my eyes but held my tongue as I continued to let him lead the way to wherever it was we were going. It wasn't long before we entered a part of the mall I was more familiar with and he turned us down the deserted wing that was under construction. Ah, back to the clocktower then, was it? So be it.

Once the locked door was picked and we were inside, I started to head for the stairs but he stopped me with a hand on my elbow. At my questioning look, he said, "Dunno where the kiddos disappeared off to. They may have beat us to the punch and could be up there already, which'll totally bust our whole fake make-out sesh. Better to just hide out down here instead."

"Alright," I nodded as he released my arm.

And there it was again. That strangeness that seemed to hang in the air whenever we were alone together now. Whenever we didn't have to put on the act of being in a relationship. I was now so used to him lacing our fingers together every chance he got that when he didn't this time, instead opting to stuff his hands into his pockets with a grin and a soft "heh," my own hand almost felt… slighted? Bereft? Sad? Could hands even feel sad? Well, whatever the hand equivalent of sadness was, it felt that.

There were a couple large, dusty crates stored in here with us at the bottom of the clocktower. I stepped over to one, gingerly dusting off the surface before setting my paper bag down on top of it. Then I cleared my throat and looked to him with a small, timid smile. "This whole rent-a-boyfriend thing is really becoming a full time job now, isn't it? Sorry… to be wasting your time like this. I'm sure there are better ways you'd be preferring to spend it rather than stuck here with me."

Lea blinked at me, then huffed out a breath of a laugh. "Hey, you already forgetting whose idea it was for us to steal away on our own like this? Ya got nothing to be sorry for. I like this, it's fun! 'Sides," he moved to stand in front of me, leaning one shoulder against the wooden support beam there that was holding up the decrepit old staircase above us, "it's not a waste. I'm a big fan of my El time. Love having any excuse to hang out with ya and have you all to myself."

Cue heart spasm.

Dropping my gaze and tugging my Ice Palace cap down to hide my warming cheeks, I zeroed in on opening my lunch bag with far more acute focus than was absolutely necessary. Let's see what Mama Rayne had packed for me today, inquiring minds were simply dying to know. To him, I just mumbled, "To each their own, I guess."

"So…" he reached a hand out, index finger flicking the bill of my hat back up so he could meet my eyes when he smirked, "...you kissed me."

All color drained from my face.

Crud. Was hoping this wouldn't come up.

"I'm sorry!" came bursting out of me.

His head rocked back before he snorted and sighed, "You apologize too much, ya know that? Fine, I'll bite. What're you sorry for now?"

"I should've asked if that was okay before I did it!" I took off my cap, wringing it between my hands. "I overstepped, I shouldn't have just assumed! I hope I didn't freak you out or make things awkward or uncomfortable or, or weird or-"

"Woah, woah, slow down," he chuckled, holding up his hands. "Ya got nothing to worry about. I was totally, one hundred and ten percent cool with it!"

My eyebrows knit together. "Really?" I frowned, absently setting the hat down on the box. "But you seemed so… I thought I might've upset you or-"

"Upset? Nah, not even a lil bit! Surprised, maybe, cuz I never in a million years expected you to, ah… heh…" he paused, pursing his lips to the right as he dragged his hand along the nape of his neck. Then he closed his eyes in a grin, "How 'bout this? This, right here, right now, is me giving you the okay to do whatever you want to me from now on in order to maintain your girlfriend cover. Anything goes, got it?"

Eyes growing round, I stammered, "A-anything?"

He couldn't be serious! Anything was a lot. Anything was… well, anything.

"Yup, anything! Don't hold back. Just feel free to go to town on me."

This was too much power. Do not want. Take it back.

"I, uh…" What does one even say to that? "O-okay… thanks?" Was this something I should be thanking him for? Seemed like a weird thing to thank him for. This whole discussion just seemed weird, period. Concentrating on my packed lunch once more, I pulled out a ziplock of baby carrots. "...I don't think I'll be, er… going to town on you any time soon though, but the offer is, ah…" Is what? "...appreciated?" Sure, let's go with that.

"Shame," Lea tsked under his breath, then snerked as his hand shot up to block the carrot I threw at him. "Kidding, kidding! Still, just know that door's always open, in case ya ever wanna put on a bit of a show for any audience we might have. I won't be bothered. Promise."

"I'll keep that in mind," I muttered, taking out a second carrot to nibble on as I averted my gaze. Was ready to talk about something else now.

"Still, fact of the matter remains," one corner of his lips curled up, "you kissed me."

Gah! Would he stop saying that already!

A soft harrumph. "Only on the nose."

"One lucky nose!" He hunched forward slightly, pointing at it, "I'll have you know I'm never gonna wash this puppy ever again."

I snorted, setting the ziplock down on the box and reaching back into the paper sack to see what other goodies it contained. "Be serious."

"I am! Wouldn't wanna lose the divine blessing you've bestowed upon it on this fine day!"

Biting back a smile now as I continued to root around in the bag, I shook my head. "Does this mean that you also haven't washed your lips since the-" I abruptly froze, eyes widening and mouth clamping shut.

There was a pause, then I could see out of my peripheral the slow cheshire grin spreading across Lea's face. "Go on, since the…?"

Since the Kissident, was what I'd been about to say.

I knew it.

He knew it.

But did I have the guts to actually power through and finish that sentence?

Frantic fingers grabbing the first thing they could out of the lunch sack, I shoved it into his face with a weak laugh, "Chocolate pudding cup?"

Nope. I sure as heck most certainly did not.

Elsa, Queen of the Skillful and Seamless Subject Change.

"Oo!" he chirped in delight, taking it. Well, he was easily distracted. That, or he was just being nice and letting me off the hook. Probably the latter. "A nose kiss and pudding? Big day!"

With a soft, relieved sigh through my nostrils, I fished out a plastic spoon to hand him as well. "Don't forget about the train ride too. Big day indeed… do you and Roxas do that often?"

Having already torn into it and taken a spoonful into his mouth, he swallowed. "Not really. Only for special occasions. Wouldn't wanna cheapen the experience."

My eyes crinkled. "Because it's already so sophisticated and highbrow to begin with," I said, forgoing the PB and J sandwich at the bottom of the bag for now and instead opting to pull out some string cheese. Removing the wrapper, I asked, "Passing an exam counts as a special occasion?"

"Only the hard as balls ones that can make or break my overall grade for the course," he shrugged, scooping out some more pudding and offering it to me, to which I just shook my head.

"Ah," I rested one hip against the crate, peeling off a thin strip of mozzarella and slipping it into my mouth. "How many years do you have left on your degree anyway?"

"Couple more. Though I hear if I'm a model student, they'll let me graduate early for good behavior."

"Don't think that's how it works," I hummed a low laugh. "Then after that… what was it again? ...a nice little ice cream shanty by the seashore, I believe?"

Lea grinned around his spoon, "Something like that."

Pulling off another strand, I hesitated with a slight frown. "...but why ice cream?" At his cocked head and raised eyebrows, I worried my lower lip between my teeth. How to phrase this? "...it's just been something I've been wondering about actually. What with your mother dropping you off at an ice cream shop before she, ah... split when you were so little, I would have thought it would just be a… a source of bad memories, is all."

He snorted, looking down at his spoon as he swirled it around in the chocolate goop. "S'not the ice cream's fault my deadbeat mom abandoned Saïx and me when we were kids. She's taken a lot from me, I won't let her take that too. 'Sides, also got a lotta good memories tied to ice cream. Fun times with friends and whatnot. It's nice that something so simple can bring a smile to people's faces and I just like the idea of being a part of that. Sounds silly, I know, but what can I say?" He thrust the now heavily pudding-laden utensil up high in the air, "I have a calling! And answer it I must!"

I brought a curled finger to my lips, hiding the tiny smile. "Some calling. You still haven't even guessed which one's my favorite yet."

"Told ya, it's a process," he stuck the spoon into his mouth, holding it there as he squinted thoughtfully. "Speaking of… lessee, what other flavors haven't come up yet… ah! Three Wishes?" he asked, pointing the plastic implement at me. Then he scoffed, "Yeah right. Way too gimmicky with all that blue cotton candy. It's trying too hard. Classy and effortless is more your speed."

My smile ticked wider as my fingers plucked further at the string cheese. "Are we still even talking about ice cream anymore?"

"Course! Trust me, I've got this down to a science. I know my shit."

"If you say so," I gave a soft snort. "You really have me at the edge of my seat here. I can't wait to see which one you finally land on."

"Me neither. I'm just as much on this journey as you are," he chuckled, tossing the now empty cup onto the crate alongside the paper bag. Propping one shoulder against the post again, he looked down and scratched his cheek. "...hey, so, ya free in a couple nights? Saïx's been wanting to meet my new lady friend and suggested we have you over for dinner."

Finishing the last of my own snack, I quirked an eyebrow at him. "He knows you have a lady friend?"

"Wasn't hard for him to guess since I've been out all night a lot recently, what with your couch being my new home away from home."

"Oh." My fingers reached for a tendril of my ponytail to twist as I mulled for a second. "Yeah, I suppose… I don't have any closing shifts coming up for a while, so I'm free for the next few nights. Just let me know when."

"Sweet! We can see this as a test run of sorts. Practice for the big weekend with your folks and-" he suddenly fell silent, head jerking to his right. I blinked, confused. Then I heard it too. This soft rattling coming from the doorknob - the telltale sounds of a lock being picked. "Crap! The kiddos! Hide," Lea hissed, grabbing my shoulders and shoving us both beneath the staircase, my back hitting the wall behind me.

The door burst open. I didn't so much see it since the stairs were now between me and it, blocking my line of sight, but I heard it along with the echoing laughter of two very familiar voices. As it slammed shut again and the staircase began to quake from feet running up it hard, I heard Xion ask, "Think we'll find them up there?"

"Probably." That was Roxas. I turned my head to the left, watching through the slats between the steps as his sneakers blurred past. "Giving each other tonsillectomies, no doubt."

My face heated as I realized they were talking about Lea and me.

But good news! Lea's plan was working. People thought we were off somewhere, er... shall we say, necking.

Or at the very least, those two thought so anyway.

I heard a snigger from Xion as her boots rushed past the gap not too far behind him. "Perfect. Let's scare them shitless."

They both cackled and tried to shush each other at the same time as I heard their thudding footsteps fade further and further away above us. Once I was certain they were gone, I puffed out the breath I'd been holding.

That's when I became aware of several things. Very, very aware.

Aware of the familiar feeling of Lea's eyes on me. Aware of how close we were. Of his grip still on my shoulders. Of my hands on his chest. Of the gentle thud of his heartbeat beneath my fingertips. Of his warm, spicy boy scent. Of his body pressed to mine, pinning me to the wall still from his rush just seconds ago to get us both out of sight. Of the fact that I could still sense his gaze on me.

Oh gosh, was there something on my face?

I slowly turned my head to look up at him and meet his eyes. He had that look in them again that I'd seen once or twice before. The one that made my insides twist and flip-flop.

Emergency! This is not a drill, people! Fetch the conceal-don't-feel armor and suit up, stat! I repeat, this is not a drill!

The slightest hint of a grin tugged at the corner of his lips and when he spoke, his voice was low. Barely above a whisper. "You know what would… really sell this make-out sesh? ...if right along here..." he ran the tip of his index finger along the side of my neck down to where it met my shoulder, so lightly I hardly felt it, his eyes following its trail the whole time, "...there was a hickey. Maybe two or three. Ya know… just for appearances, of course..."

I just stared at him for a second. Then two. Then I smiled, "That's a great idea!"

He looked taken aback, his gaze widening. "Wait, really?!"

"Of course! Did you bring any makeup with you?" I asked. He just gave me a blank look. "You know, like your guyliner. Do you have anything else? Something that could make the fake marks look convincing?"

He blinked a couple times. "Makeup… right… that's what I meant… heh..." his eyes darted to the left. "But shoot, you know what? Didn't bring any with me." A slow smirk stretching across his face now, he bent down to press his forehead to mine as his eyes hooded, "But hey... we could also always make 'em the old fashioned way."

Once more I stared, expression neutral.

Processing… processing…

Then my eyelids drooped. "...you're messing with me again, aren't you?"

Lea stiffened. Then he relaxed, straightening back up and bracing an elbow against the wall above my head, resting his brow to his forearm as his whole body shook with a soft chuckle. "Yup! Yup, you uh… you caught me alright! Totes was."

Conceal-don't-feel armor saves the day once again! If it hadn't been for that, my heart might have exploded in that situation.

Man, was I getting good at deflecting these little jokes of his now or what?

He shifted over and away from me, giving us both some breathing room now. "Do you think maybe we should go somewhere else?" I asked, my gaze drifting up the clocktower as I returned to the crate, repacking my lunch back into its bag and picking up my hat. Thank goodness the "kiddos" hadn't noticed this stuff before dashing upstairs. "Just so Xion and Roxas don't catch us down here?"

"Sure, good call. I gotta few other secret spots 'round this place we can hole up in until your lunch is over." He went to the door, pushing it open a crack so he could peek out.

"Okay," I nodded while waiting for him to make sure the coast was clear. Then I grinned. "You know, you almost had me going back there with the hickies."

"If only," he muttered so softly, I wasn't sure I'd heard correctly.

"Hm?"

His shoulders tensed, then he breathed a feeble laugh as he glanced back at me, "If only… I'd, er... remembered to bring some makeup! Ah well, maybe next time, huh? C'mon, let's go." His hand reached for mine.

I took it and suddenly my hand didn't feel so sad anymore as I let him lead me back out into the mall.

I couldn't sleep.

I rolled over onto my left side, pulling the sheets up to my chin and curling in on myself a bit. Then over to my right. A few seconds ticked by. Then I rested my back to the mattress and frowned up at my bedroom ceiling, at the long thin patch of frail moonlight slashing across it from between the curtains of my window. Sighing, I tossed over onto my side again and tried putting my head beneath the pillow this time, hoping the added darkness and some light hypoxia would do the trick to knock me out.

No such luck.

With another heavy sigh, I sat up, letting the pillow fall back down behind me. I brought a hand up towards one of my earplugs, stopping just short of reaching it as I frowned over at the wall I shared with my roommates. Then I tentatively pulled it out, already preemptively grimacing as the noises I might hear.

Instead my ears were greeted with a very different sound and from a different direction no less. Coming through my closed door from the living room was a faint, hollow murmur of voices. I squinted towards it, tipping my head to one side. Was that… the TV? Tugging the other earplug out, I set both down onto my nightstand as I listened for another minute, my fingers fiddling with my braid. Then folding my sheets away from me, I got out of bed, smoothed my nightgown and crept over to the door to open it.

Lea was sitting on his couch out here, the glow of the television screen the only thing illuminating him in the otherwise dark living room. Since him couch-surfing here was becoming a bit of a habit now, he'd started bringing an overnight bag with him for things like toiletries and the pyjamas he was currently wearing - a black tank top and PJ pants patterned with tiny fireballs sporting evil smiley faces. In fact I think it may have been the same design on the frisbees I'd seen back at his apartment. Some kind of brand logo, perhaps?

His elbows were braced up on the backrest behind him, temple propped against one fist as he watched the screen. He glanced over at me as I stepped out, quirking an eyebrow and lifting his head off his knuckles. "El?"

I gave my braid a tiny tug before dropping my hands and clasping them together, forcing them to be still as I gave him a small smile. "You're up late."

He grinned back. "Yeah. Never really could pass out to total silence," he nodded towards where his own earplugs laid discarded on the coffee table. Then he wrinkled his nose, shooting a sideways glance towards Rayne's and Riku's room. "But shit, you weren't kidding 'bout those two going at it like jackrabbits in there. Had to do something to tune 'em out, so turned on the ol' tube and guess what I found?"

I moved to stand beside him for a better view of the TV. The scene was currently zoomed in on a couple riding in the back row seat of a trolley. The girl was distracted, lost in whatever she was talking about while the guy was reaching his hand over to tuck her hair back, only to awkwardly snatch it away when she suddenly turned to look at him, completely oblivious to the gesture as she continued to enthusiastically ramble on. My smile grew as I took a seat next to Lea. "It's Before Dawn. Imagine that."

"I know. What timing, right?" he hummed a small laugh. We were both quiet for a few seconds, simply watching the movie. Then he nudged my knee with his, "And what brings ya out here in the middle of the night? Other than the pleasure of my charming company, of course."

That earned him a soft snort as I slouched more comfortably into the sofa and picked up one of the small throw pillows, hugging it in my arms. "Trouble sleeping."

"Oh?" he looked over at me, relaxing his hand along the top of the cushions behind my head. "Something on your mind?"

I gnawed on my bottom lip, not taking my eyes off the television even though I wasn't really paying attention to it anymore. "...it's just coming up so fast."

Brow furrowing, he squinted up at the ceiling in thought for a second. "You mean our visit to the parental units?"

My insides churned as I gave a small nod. "It's only a week away now. It doesn't feel like enough time. I don't know if I'll be able to go through with this… if we… if I will be prepared in time… if I'll be able to face them."

"Hey, don't worry 'bout it," he flashed a warm grin. "You and me? We got this. I like to think we've become quite the awesome dynamic duo. Gotten pretty good at this whole girlfriend-boyfriend thing. Got the entire mall buying into our story and if we can fool them, we can fool anyone."

"But it's not anyone," I muttered, squeezing the pillow more tightly to me. "It's Father. And Mother. And..." my face scrunched up, "...the Duke too? ...for some reason? Anyway, tricking Father for a grand total of five minutes was one thing, but now? Now it's my whole family. For a whole weekend. What if they find out?" Oh dear, I could already feel a panic attack coming on just thinking about it. I turned my head, frowning at him. "...what if I can't do this?"

The hand behind me lifted, hesitantly hovering and shifting about for a second before settling on a quick, reassuring pat to my head. "Just say the word and you can pull the plug on this whole op anytime ya want. Don't force yourself to do anything you don't wanna do. But just know you're a lot stronger than you think. And chances are? It won't be as bad as you fear." He poked himself in the side of the head, just above his left ear, "Our brains like to mess with us, tell us things will be a lot worse than they actually turn out to be. And 'sides, you won't be doing this alone. I'll be right there with you the whole weekend. Your sister too. We got your back. You got a support system. Consider us your safety net. We'll be there to pick up the slack and catch you if you fall."

I bowed my head, nose perched on top of the edge of the pillow now. "...thank you. That helps," I muffled into it, my tiny smile hidden. And I meant it. I could already feel some of my unease starting to slip away. Straightening back up and tossing my head back onto the couch, I inhaled deeply before loudly exhaling. "I should just stop thinking about it. Stressing out over it now does me no good. I need to be talking about something else."

"Something else, huh?" he mumbled, eyes returning to the movie as he scratched the tip of his nose. "...so I had a thought. Remember the other day when you said you'd be looking for a new place in a few months when lil Baby Hewley arrived?" His knee started jiggling up and down while out of the corner of my eye, I could see his fingers fidgeting with the seam of the backrest cushions. "Well, what if… and ya know, this would only be if you weren't able to find somewhere on your own and if, like… you had no place else to go and were up shit's creek and whatnot, but… what if you moved in with…" he glanced back my way, "...me?"

I blinked at him. "...you?"

His face brightened. "Yeah, whaddya think? We got plenty of space for ya! It'll be a total blast! And hey, we could even get ya a puppy."

Fighting a grin, I quirked an eyebrow. "A puppy? But what about Saïx?"

"Psh," he brushed off, one hand batting the air. "Saïx can fight me. You want a dog? You're getting a dog, end of story."

I snerked and looked down. Lips pursing to one side, I did a mental replay of what I could remember of when Lea had given me the grand tour of his apartment. "...am I forgetting a third bedroom you guys have?"

"Nah," he shook his head, "just the two. But you can have mine and I'll just… I dunno, sleep on the couch."

"You can't sleep on the couch in your own home," I scoffed.

"Sure I can! I'm actually growing quite accustomed to catching some Z's on 'em. These bad boys are surprisingly comfy," he pat the armrest next to him and beamed. "In fact, dunno if I can ever go back to a lame ol' bed again!"

Rolling my eyes, I said, "I meant because Saïx will see you. Won't he have questions about you sleeping on the sofa every night?"

"Oh. Right," he laughed, fingers ruffling his hair. "Well then I can just… sleep in the room with you. On the floor," he hastily amended. "Yeah, it'll be fun! Like a slumber party every night!"

One side of my lips twitched up as I toyed with the corner of the throw pillow I was still holding snug. "You're sweet, but… no, that'd just be crazy."

"...yeah. Crazy," he averted his gaze with a tiny chuckle. Then he frowned, plucking the short hairs at the nape of his neck. "...is it though? I mean, think about it. It'd be like the next stage of our dating evolution. That's what all couples do sooner or later, right? Move in together?"

"But the baby will be here in, what…" both my eyebrows rose as I stared off into space, "...four more months? Five? I figure we'll have probably staged a breakup by then."

"Breakup?!" he jerked forward in his seat, eyes widening slightly.

I knit my eyebrows together. "Well yeah. You… didn't think we were going to be fake dating forever, right?"

"Well, I…" he hunched forward, propping his elbows on his knees and folding his hands together beneath his nose as he narrowed his gaze on the floor. "...no, I guess not."

I tilted my head at him. Then opened my mouth. Then closed it. I focused on the TV instead. "...I figured… it'd be some time after we visited my parents. Depending on how it goes, of course. Once I was…" I shrugged, gripping the pillow more tightly, "...sure they weren't going to try to interfere with my life anymore. After that… maybe a few more weeks? A month, perhaps? Just so it wouldn't look too quick, too… suspicious or raise questions…"

Why was this so hard? Why did it make my heart squeeze, just a bit? Come on, it's not like it was a real breakup! Besides, this could maybe, possibly, eventually open up the door to actually start something more real with him in the future. If I ever got the guts up to even pursue something like that… whenever he started dating again… which would be when he no longer had to focus on his schoolwork… aka when he graduated...

...in two years…

Why did that suddenly seem like an eternity?

"...yeah," he sighed and slumped back again, his arm returning to its position behind me as he stretched them both out along the backrest once more, "that all makes sense, I guess." His lips were a flat line for a few seconds, but then he grinned over at me. "Tell ya one thing, though. Fake getting over you ain't gonna be easy. Might have to try and fake win you back."

"Oh no," I stifled a soft laugh into my fingers. "Hang on, let me guess… You. In a trenchcoat. Standing in the middle of the bustling food court. Boombox held high over your head and blasting out some old, cheesy love song. That about sum it up?"

He smirked, "Ah, fan of the classics like me, I see. Good guess, but I was actually thinking less John Cusack in Say Anything and more Heath Ledger in 10 Things I Hate About You. Me. With a mic hacked into the food court's overhead speakers. Singing and dancing around on table tops while mall security chases me all over the place."

This big dork really was a sap. That is, if his taste in movies had anything to say about it.

Shaking my head in amusement, I said, "Who's to say you'd even fake want me back? Maybe it's you who ends up fake dumping me."

He huffed out a derisive snort, "Not a chance. I'd never be dumb enough to let someone like you go." I looked away, grateful the light from the TV wasn't bright enough to reveal the gentle warmth spreading into my cheeks. Lea shrugged as he went on, "Now, dumb enough to do something stupid and royally fuck it up so you'd kick my ass to the curb however? Yeah, now that sounds like it'd be pretty on brand for me."

"No, I don't think so," I smiled, resting my chin atop the seam of the throw pillow. "...thanks, Lea. I feel a lot better now. You're a… a really good friend."

Lea was quick to return the smile, "It's what I'm here for!" His gaze went back to the screen and there was a brief pause where the only sound was the low drone from the movie. "So… was that your roundabout way of wishing me a good night?"

"Hmm..." A beat before I shook my head, "Not yet. I think I'd like to stay and watch for a little while longer, if that's alright."

"It's more than alright," the corners of his eyes crinkled as he settled into his seat more comfortably. "It's alright times two."

I'm not sure exactly when it was I nodded off. Last scene I clearly remembered was our leading couple sitting at a restaurant together, their hands miming phones to their ears as they made imaginary calls to one another, so it must have been not too long after that. Next thing I knew I was blinking blearily at the television as it showed the girl now sitting on a bed in a small apartment, serenading the guy with her guitar. They both looked maybe a few years older. Must have been one of the sequels to the first movie. I was less familiar with those. It seemed Lea had stumbled upon some sort of late night marathon.

As consciousness returned to me piece by tiny piece, it slowly came to my attention that there was something... off about the pillow my cheek was resting against. Like the fact that it was oddly firm. And warm. And…

...breathing?

Eyes fully snapping open now, they darted about to realize I'd fallen asleep on Lea. Against his chest, to be exact. Embarrassed and panicking maybe just a smidge, I immediately tried to straighten up and away from him, only to be held firmly in place by the arm - his arm - that was draped heavily around my shoulders. I furrowed my brow over at it. Wha-?

Then he made a noise and I tensed.

Took me several heart-pounding seconds to register that noise for what it was.

A snore.

Puffing out a hushed breath and forcing my muscles to relax, I tentatively, cautiously turned my head to try and look up at him. Didn't work, and it only took me another second to realize why. There was a weight pressing down on the top of my hair that I hadn't really noticed until just now.

He was using my head as a pillow.

Welp. This was quite the predicament I found myself in.

Oh gosh, I just hope we'd fallen asleep roughly around the same time and had just, I don't know... naturally gravitated toward one another in our slumber? If I'd been snuggling up to him like this while he was awake the whole time, I'd never live it down.

Next thing my brain decided to alert me to was the fact that I'd misplaced my throw pillow. I must have dropped it when I'd dozed off for I was pretty sure I could feel it on the floor brushing against my bare feet. But that wasn't the important part. No, the important part was what my hands had decided to do in the wake of its disappearance. Left hand? It was good. Just laying there in my lap, all well behaved and polite-like. The right one, however? Had found its way over to rest atop Lea's knee. The little trollop. Especially considering that one of his hands was currently covering it. Had it no decency? No shame?

I considered my situation for another minute. Then taking a deep breath, I decided to commence with the extraction. Should be easier now that I was fully awake and aware of my circumstances so I could approach it all with a cooler, more level head.

First I used my free hand to gently lift his arm from my shoulder and gingerly set it back down on the couch backrest. Another snore from him and I froze. After a few seconds where nothing else happened however and I was sure I hadn't disturbed him, I then proceeded to bring my hand back up, this time to delicately press my fingertips to his chin.

Careful now, careful… wouldn't want to wake him…

I slowly pushed his head off mine and kept going until it lolled back onto the cushions behind him instead. With nothing left weighing me down now, I crept up onto my feet and peeked back at him to make sure he still snoozed. I was rewarded with yet another soft snore. That was all the confirmation I needed. I turned to make a break for my room.

Victory! Success! Elsa, Queen of The Daring Escape and-

Ack!

...okay, so something had just happened. More precisely, two somethings, both occurring at the exact same time. The first? Was my arm being pulled taut and bouncing me back like a rubber band stretched too tight. I stumbled but caught myself, the carpet muffling any sound I might have made. The second? Now that was just a word. One single, solitary word:

"Stay."

That one word sent my heart catapulting up into my throat as I whipped around to discover Lea had pulled his head up and was now looking straight at me.

Fudge, fudge, fudge, fudge!

...but actually… wait… his eyelids were sagging heavily. Half closed and groggy. His expression slack. And now that I thought about, when he'd spoken, it had come out sounding a little… sluggish? One might even say… drowsy?

...was he still half asleep?

I haltingly raised a hand to wave in front of his face. No reaction. As my shallow breaths began to slow and my heart rate calmed, I next looked down at my other hand to see what the snag had been there. This was the one that had been on his knee with his hand on top of it. Was still on top of it and, in fact, had tightened his grip around my fingers. This was what had snared me and brought my getaway to a screeching halt.

Yeesh, what a clingy sleeper he must be.

I brought my gaze back up to his face. He was still giving me that droopy, zombie-eyed stare. I tucked in my lower lip, studying him for a moment. Then I took a tiny step closer and bent over him slightly. My free hand came up, reaching for him. I froze midway, fingers curling towards my palm, hesitating. But only for a heartbeat before I was pushing forward again.

"Shh… go back to sleep," I whispered, gently stroking his hair just above his ear.

His really, really soft, silky smooth hair.

Which I'd not been expecting. Not at all.

Crud, I shouldn't be blushing this much.

However, it seemed to have the desired effect. His eyelids drifted all the way closed now as his head sank back down into the couch cushion. His hold on my hand relaxed enough for me to slip it free. I straightened back up, rubbing my rescued hand with the other as I watched him sleep for a few more seconds, my head tipping to one side. Then I retrieved the throw pillow from the floor and put it back on the sofa next to him before picking up the comforter to drape over him. It was only now I realized that it was too small for him for if I brought it up to cover his shoulders, it left his feet exposed.

The friggin' behemoth. Why hadn't he said anything? I'd have to see about finding a bigger one for him tomorrow.

I briefly considered turning off the TV but decided against it on the off chance the sudden lack of noise would wake him. Turning, I tiptoed back towards my bedroom, stopping in the doorway for one last backwards glance at him. Still out like a light. A grin pulled at one side of my mouth as I murmured, "Sweet dreams, sleeping beauty."

The only answer I got was a snore.

Author's Note: Our awkward penguin did it! She intentionally "made a move" for the first time, I'm so proud T_T Looks like our fire boi tried to make a bit of a move himself under the clocktower staircase there… with far less successful results xD One step forward, two steps back, huh? *Siiiiigh* ah well, these two will get there eventually :P And this is yet another chapter I lament not writing anything from Lea's POV… so many scenes in my head going on for him off camera that will never see the light of day xD Fun fact: The ice cream this chapter, Three Wishes, is named after (you guessed it) Agrabah's keyblade and I imagine its description on the menu would look something like: "This blueberry flavored soft serve will have you wishing for more! Comes in a blue cone wrapped in a ring of matching blue cotton candy, with lamp-shaped sugar cubes and a sprinkling of extra sugar to top it all off."

Next chapter, with that "make a move" hurdle finally overcome, what's next in our couple's fake dating adventures? Looks like there's a certain dinner with a certain Moon Boy on the horizon, how will this lil "test run" go? Will it be a resounding success or could it spell utter defeat for our pair? Not to mention the weekend with the folks is fast approaching, will our couple be ready in time? And just how DOES Lea fit his behemoth self into those itty-bitty pirate ship train carts? Some things will forever remain a mystery, but for the rest, stay tuned!

Thanks for reading, I super duper appreciate it! And an extra BIG thank you to those of you who’ve liked, reblogged, and followed so far, seeing those lil notifications always brings the biggest, goofiest smile to my face!

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illusionsofdreaming · 5 years ago

Text

guess I like playing with fire;

Notes: You’re on a mission and Claude’s ruining it spectacularly.

FT: Claude

What most people don’t realise is that what separates a good band of mercenaries from the bad are based on the quality of information they have and not the skills they boast. Intelligence on locations, knowledge of the land and insight on their enemies are what keeps the men alive at the end of the day. Any prowess with a weapon are decoration, the icing on the cake, some extra branding for their names. The best mercenaries have learned to hoard information and their information network is often a complex and extremely exclusive one.

For once your infamous mercenary nickname has uses other than to inspire fear and scare naughty children at night. After all who wouldn’t want to get in the good graces and be allied with the child of the Blade Breaker? There’s been rumours of increased monster activities and it just so happens that the rural city you were passing by where the Ashen Demon’s name was popular was also a hotspot for travelling mercenaries as well.

A simple reconnaissance mission was set up - you would hang around the taverns and gather information and return by day, hopefully with new insight regarding the validity of these rumours, whether or not the resistance should be concerned.

The evening was still young, the tavern you chose had only just started filling. Your current table companions consisted of an axe wielder going by the name of Gildhart, a sharp nosed swordsman with a wicked scar down one cheek and a well built brawler who’s massive red mane was just barely held back by the bandana on her head. Conversation had been slow at first but by the third round of cards, their lips were starting to loosen.

“Damnit! I’ve heard of your prowess on the battlefields but who knew you’d be so vicious on the table too!” Janet scowled as she threw in her cards as you swept your new winnings to your side.

“The name Demon fits you alright!” Gildhart laughed, taking a large drink from his cup.

“Well, our opponent is an incredibly hard person to read, I believe we may have been playing at disadvantage all along.“ Kent, the name of the swordsman you remembered, smiled wryly at you.

“I don’t mind if you wish to try another game instead.“ you offered, palms up in invitation and away from the cards. It didn’t matter which game they chose anyways. You still remembered your father’s disapproval when he first found out, despite its inevitability considering the companions you grew up with.

“If I can’t stop you from cards, least I can do is make sure you won’t lose our entire fortune.”Jeralt had heaved a sigh then, placed you in his lap and proceeded to teach you the ways of gambling. That was the beginning of your colourful journey into becoming a master card shark, but that‘s a story for another day.

“Pah! We’re not cowards! Am I right boys?” Janet’s fist thumped on the table and for a moment you worried the furniture wouldn’t survive the weight of the brawler’s fist.

“Damn right we’re not!” Gildhart boomed and Kent sighed with a shrug, sealing their fates.

“Let me deal this round.” Kent offered with an apologetic smile your way which you nodded, taking no offence.

“So what dangers brings the Ashen Demon to these parts of Fódlan eh?” Janet asked as her companion began shuffling the cards.

You’ve been ready for this question and you gave a nonchalant shrug as you leaned back with your drink. “Trying our luck before circumstances forces our hand to pick a side.” With the war going on, it was inevitable that mercenaries bands would get absorbed into either side. The sympathetic and understanding nods from her companions seemed to agree.

“I have no love for needless slaughter, retirement might be imminent in my near future.” Kent mumbled softly as he dealt out cards.

You took your cards, taking time to organise them before casually throwing out your bait. “I’ve heard stories of problematic beasts cropping up around the area, there could be business in those desperate enough to spare some coin to hire our skills.”

“Ay, you’ve not heard wrong.” Gildhart coughed. “Although calling them problematic beasts would be an understatement.”

“Oh?” You breathed out, relaxing your shoulders. The wary glance shared amongst the mercenaries was not missed by your eyes. Silence overlapped the table and you played oblivious for a few moments before looking up. “Is everything alright? I understand if I have intruded on something you’d rather deal with yourself.”

“No, nothing like that.” Janet was quick to refute. “We might be confident in our skills but even we know this is not something we can handle.” The mercenaries seemed to share a look between them and some form of agreement must have been reached as they hunched forward in their seats and beckoned you to follow suit.

“They say monsters the size of houses, some with claws and teeth and others with scales appear overnight wiping out villages before disappearing the next day. No one knows where they come from or where they go afterwards. Others have tried hunting them and failed and those that survived an encounter are crippled by fear of what they’ve seen.” Kent relayed this with a somber expression, his eyes taking on a faraway sheen.

You took this in quietly. You understood their wariness, you have witnessed the destruction these beasts are capable of first hand. What concerned you however was their sudden appearances and disappearances. You folded your arms on the table as a frown crossed your face.

“Were the attacked villages known to have frequent monster sightings?”

Gildhart shook his head, rubbing his chin with a grimace. “Not that we know of. Pretty peaceful from what I remembered. The villagers never had any experience against anything larger than a wolf. Some of these men wielded nothing but woodcutting axes against these things.”

Could simple negligence and relaxed security caused the complete annihilation of a village in the short span of a day? Even if it were possible, with how chaotic Fódlan has become, it was common nowadays for simple villagers to be armed with some form of weapon to protect their family and not simple farmer’s tools. Unless... these were men who had been going on about their daily lives, who had been caught unaware and given no time to arm themselves, ambushed by creatures unleashed in the middle of their homes.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. You can’t leap to conclusions yet. You needed more information. However before you could ask another question you caught sight of something outside the window. It took your all to resist the instinct to turn around, instead you used your peripherals to confirm your worst fear: Claude Von Riegan, heir to the Riegan house, leader of the Alliance resistance, lurking across the street just begging to be noticed.

“Excuse me for a while.” you stood up abruptly, shocking your companions who started reaching for their weapons which you stopped with a hand. “Sorry, thought I saw someone familiar. I’m going to step out for a while.”

“What about the game?” Gildhart eyes travelled from you to his hand of cards.

“Play without me.” You untied a pouch by your waist and threw it on the table. “Drinks on me.” And you breezed past them, just barely able to control your pace to a fast walk, despite the strongest desire to run.

“Think its a friend?”

“From the look in the Demon’s eyes?”

“Rest in pieces strang-“ the door closed behind you. You took a deep breath - Sothis knows you’d need it - and scanned the streets. It was almost laughable easy to spot him, wavy hair and green eyes, golden earring glinting in the darkness, smile stretching across face as he spotted you.

His hand was rising to wave but you grabbed him and dragged him away two streets down and shoved him into a indescript alley.

“Whoa teach, at least ask a guy out before-“

“What are you doing here Claude? I thought we’d agreed that you’d wait for my return.” You cut him off, fuming.

“Aw teach, it’s been hours. We’d all rest easier at night if you had someone to watch your back.” He laughed at the wilted glare you sent his way. “Alright so we’re not really worried and maybe I’m just a little nosy.”

Of all the people to come nosing in, it had to be Claude. The most high profile, easily recognisable mascot of the Alliance resistance. While you knew despite his flippant attitude, Claude would never do anything to jeopardise the war efforts, his being here meant he’s comfortable and confident in his ability to get out unscathed.

You sighed and relaxed against a wall, since he was here anyways you might as well pass on what you’ve gathered so far. “I haven’t gotten much yet.” you warned and made sure to direct a pointed glare towards him before relaying what you’ve heard and your theories so far.

He had a hand on his chin as he listened, brows furrowed in a contemplative expression. “Almost like what happened back in the chapel in Garreg Mach...” He was mumbling to himself but the words brought back a flood of memories you had avoided revisiting.

You vividly remembered the ruins, the screams of students and roars of creatures rending the air. The cold and the overwhelming numbness that took you as you held the motionless body of your only family. You were alone, truly alone and the cold was seeping into your blood, your bones, your soul. What little emotions you’ve gained these past few months was being stripped by the cold. There’s no one left-

“___________.” His hand was warm against your skin, a shocking contrast that brought you back, burning away the ice in your veins. His gaze was apologetic and a touch concerned, his hold on you was supportive but not restrictive.

You shook your head lightly, stepping back from his touch and he released you. “I’m fine.” You muttered, brushing a hand through your hair, disappointed for getting carried away.

His eyes watched you, “Of course, teach. I never doubted that.” He said quietly with a smile, the sincerity in his tone hard to ignore and it made the breath in your lungs catch in your throat. There were times like these, where the masks he wore would slip and you would hear the strength of his convictions and beliefs. That truly, despite your lapse in emotions, all your flaws and imperfections, he knew you’d be alright, you’d pull through, even when you don’t believe it yourself.

You averted your eyes. “You should get back to the others Claude.” You were about to shoo him off when you heard footsteps approaching. You panicked. The leader of the Leicester Alliance can’t be seen here, skulking about in dark alleyways like some scoundrel with nefarious intentions. With how tensed and chaotic everything's been with the war, the last thing the Alliance needed was doubt to be casted on their leader's reputation. In a split-second decision, you pushed him against the wall, into the shadows. Your hand wrapped around the back of his neck and pulled him down to meet your lips, purposely angling yourself so that most of your profile blocked Claude’s features from view.

Though initially stiff with surprise, Claude quickly caught on. It was remarkable how quickly he adapted, tension from his shoulders melting off as he relaxed his hand on your waist, fingers curling on your hip like a possessive lover.

There was a gasp of surprise as the footsteps halted. “Is that-”

A convincing groan from Claude convinced the stragglers to pick up their pace and a few seconds later they were gone.

Immediately you moved away to check but Claude lunged for you, tugging you to his side as laughter crossed the alleyway. With one arm rested against the wall to shield your faces, you had a second to take in his boyish smile before he dipped down to kiss you again, his hand held your chin with surprising gentleness. In return you pulled on his curls just on a touch side of painful which made him grunt, a soft breath of amusement puffed against your lips.

The strangers passed by his back and Claude pressed closer, ducking his head further. It was easy to ignore the lewd taunts and whistles they threw over their shoulders as they walked past when all you could focus on was how soft his lips were, how you’re positively sure all the blood in your body had rushed to your face.

This time when the strangers left, neither of you parted immediately, just to be sure. In the shadows, you counted down seconds and when it seems no further strangers would be passing by, you stepped away.

“Well,” Claude started with a soft laugh but it was strained and for once he seemed to be struggling with his words. “I didn’t know you felt that way about me teach.” He tried to be casual, but his usual flippant tone was ruined by the breathlessness in his voice. This uncertainty from Claude, someone who always seemed to have a reaction and smile prepared for every scenario, was unexpected... and it stirred something uncomfortable in your chest.

“I couldn’t let them see your face.” You explained, ignoring the tingling in your lips and the lingering thoughts of how it felt to have your fingers in his wavy curls. “This wouldn’t have happened if you had followed the plan in the first place.”

He chuckled, mask back on, his arms drew back to cross behind his head in his signature lazy half stretch. “Ah, well, you know me and instructions teach.”

You shook your head as you willed the heat from your face to disperse. “Get out of here before you get caught for real Claude.”

You turned to leave the alleyway but he reached out to grab your wrist. “__________, about what happened-“

“We’re not talking about this.” You whipped around and gave him a firm glare, determined to end the conversation before it started. There’s a ball of emotions curling in your chest that you’re not ready to unravel. You needed time and there’s still a mission to be completed.

His green eyes were bright as he released your hand with a laugh. “Not even a li-”

“No.”

Claude’s smile was knowing as his thumb traced the bottom of his lips, grinning when your eyes inadvertently followed the movement.

“If you say so, my friend.” He hummed, expression thoughtful as he gave a small shrug.

“Go now.” You’re almost impatient to return to the tavern. You’ve never had a preference for drinks, not like your father, but now you find yourself desperately craving for something strong.

“Although your cold dismissal hurts, I shall do as you wish and promptly remove myself from your vicinity.” He swept into a dramatic bow, but its effect was ruined when he looked up not a moment later with a cheeky wink.

He dodged your half-hearted kick and his laugh made him look like he’s never aged a day beyond seventeen and it stayed on your mind for the rest of the night.

You were woken the next morning by the uproar in camp, although not for the reason you’d expected. Apparently words of mysterious strangers hidden in the back alley became the story of the town and soon bards were singing songs of the Ashen Demon’s midnight tryst much to your abject horror and Claude’s great amusement. You knew a betting pool was being set up, something you’re determined to sabotage.

You’re hiding in your tent, with a pounding headache, not willing to reign in the chaos outside just yet.

A breath of fresh air washed into your tent as someone entered.

“How bad is it?” You threw out before the other could say a word.

He didn’t answer immediately, humming thoughtfully as he set down the tray of food he was carrying on the coffee table. “I think my favourite version has to be the one where the Ashen Demon seduced the local hero, single handedly finish the war with the blessed sword before riding the Immaculate One into the sunset.”

The story was so outlandish you couldn’t even dignify it with a proper response and opted to hide your face in your hands. It’s bad. Really bad.

Claude’s laughter was light and airy, and despite your mood, something inside warmed at the heartfelt joy in his tone.

“This is all your fault.” You mumbled.

“Perhaps.” he allowed with a grin, bright eyes sparkling. “I’ve mixed something to help with your headache, it’s bitter but it should do the trick.” He placed a small vial on your table.

“You did well my friend. Rest up, I will deflect the others from disturbing you for today.” He patted your shoulder and avoided your halfhearted swipe with a smile before pushing outside your tent. You had two seconds to catch sight of all of your ex-students crowded around the entrance before the tent flap fell behind him, muting the excited gossip that grew in volume at Claude’s reappearance.

You sighed against your hands, wishing the ground would open up and swallow you whole. The mess of feelings in your chest was no closer to being solved, in fact it’s getting more and more complicated by the day. For a moment, you swore the ring Jeralt left you grew warm in your pocket.

#fe3h #fire emblem imagines #imagines #fire emblem three houses #fe16 #Claude Von riegan #claude #kiss #fluff #teasing #he’s going to be the death of byleth #was excited writing this in the beginning and by the end i just want to get it out #mistakes everywhere #ill come back to edit it one day #yeah they went and dealt with the monsters afterwards #i could write a sequel where they have the ‘talk’#but also leaving as it also seems fine

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luxexhomines · 5 years ago

Text

why did you have to betray him?

This is the second SFW Leviathan fic I’ve published on my AO3! Please click here if you would like to read it on AO3. If you venture onto my AO3, please be warned of NSFW and problematic content that may include triggering topics! Click here to read my card. Commissions are open (but I won’t start working on them until after May 8th because of other responsibilities)!

This is a Hanahaki disease work; MC/Reader has Hanahaki’s for Levi. If you need to know the ending before you start reading, feel free to skim the tags. I’ve included a short excerpt before the cut for the rest of the story.

--------

“Sorry, Levi, not today.”

You shut the door in his face, and Levi feels his heart sink for what feels like the hundredth time in the past month. It’s not like he’s been counting, but even with all the years he’d been alive, it sure seemed like a whole lot of rejections in such a short amount of time.

He had even gone as far as to go knock on your door and ask in person—but you had still turned him down. Sighing, he trudges back to his room. Levi’s not sure why he’s so surprised. Or disappointed. Because this is only natural, only expected, that you wouldn’t want to hang out with someone like him. A repulsive otaku shut-in. There was no reason for you to want to hang out with him in the first place. He should be surprised that you’d even hung out with him before you started rejecting him.

Maybe it was time for him to give up on asking. He shouldn’t harbor hope in his chest anymore, no matter how badly he wants to spend time with you, to see your smile, hear your tumbling laugh, look into your shining, bright eyes. The times he did get to spend with you, it almost felt like all of that, all of you had been meant just for him. For him, and him alone.

But he supposed that ended today. Or, rather, it had ended weeks ago. Levi couldn’t help it if you’d realized that you didn’t want to hang out with him. It had only been a matter of time. And the time had finally come.

He shuffles into his room morosely and shuts the door. Only the sound of the aquarium is here in his room, a quiet, calm, trickling sound, constant, almost unnoticeable. But in the face of your absence, it was loud. It isn’t silent, but it's quiet enough in his room that the space feels glum.

Levi stands in front of his shelves of discs and runs his fingers along the sides of each one, the smooth plastic cool under his touch. He’ll pick lively music to listen to today, he thinks to himself. Sucre Frenzy’s newest album would do just fine. But instead, he ends up pulling out a Bithir Gloom album. He frowns but slides it into the CD player anyway. Maybe it was fine to wallow in this misery. Just for a little while.

Although he knows a little while always ends up being a long time, ranging anywhere from a month to a century. It’s his nature, isn’t it? At least, that’s what he always told himself. It made him feel better if he couldn’t help it; if it was a part of him. He couldn’t deny the nature of his existence.

Yes, he was the Avatar of Envy, and he was a repugnant, otaku hikikomori.

His chest aches, and the sole sound of the melancholy piano drifts from the speakers faintly, discreetly filling the room with the elegiac, dark tones, like a mist of shadows engulfing him.

He embraces it. As he always does. As he always will.

It’s a part of him, after all.

----------

You’re hunched over at your desk, trying to distract yourself by studying as furiously as possible.

From that incessant, severe pain. Or maybe, more accurately, from your flowering, profound feelings.

No. You can’t think about that. You turn back to the textbook, Ancient Lore and Myths of the Devildom’s Cursed Artifacts, but it’s too late.

Something is swelling within you.

You let it because keeping it in would be more painful.

You cough into your arm, and the action seems to take years off of your life. It’s a deep heaving of your lungs that, out of its pure force, makes the rest of your body quake violently for moments after it’s gone.

On your tongue is the taste of iron. You want to dismiss it, to forget about it and go back to your work, but you stand and go to the bathroom instead, against your better judgment.

The fluorescent lights burn into your skin, and you lean in toward the mirror over the sink. When you open your mouth, you see red. Crimson red. Not the muted, pinkish-red of your tongue and cheeks.

Blood red.

A chill rushes down your spine, and you close your mouth, swallowing dryly before realizing you should perhaps wash it out. With trembling fingers, you bring water to your lips and rinse. You spit out bloodied water, tarnished, impure, dirty, disgusting. You can’t bear to look at it, and you run water over the remnants in the bowl of the sink. No evidence could be left behind. No evidence of your burgeoning, vile feelings. Of your betrayal. You’re willing to die with that betrayal kept a secret. As long as he doesn’t know.

Leviathan can never know that you love him.

You amble back to your room and lay down on your bed, exhausted.

Bad idea.

You’re sitting up and hacking again before you know it. You’re not sure what it feels more like: being set aflame as the tongues of fire eagerly lap at your chest, or asphyxiating to death under the pressure of water and drowning. Take your pick. Not that there was much to pick between, anyway. It was both, and it was neither. It couldn’t be described, not really. Sensations like these could only be felt to be understood—although, no one would willingly accept that fate, knowing what it entails. You didn’t. You were dragged, kicking and screaming, and confined to it with heavy shackles that fettered your movement, kept you from escape, or any hint of freedom. You’d never asked for this, never wanted this, but here you were, regardless.

When you finish coughing, there’s that same taste in your mouth again, and your chest is sore. You rub it in hopes of alleviating any amount of the pain, but it’s useless. If it were that easy, you wouldn’t be coughing, to begin with. You lick your lips and then become aware of something, some foreign entity in your mouth. You open your mouth and let it fall into your hand.

It flutters gently, despite the violence and agony it signified.

A petal.

It’s a motley, striped purple, slightly long and oval, tapering off and curved outward. The first to appear. You’re not sure what flower it comes from, but you sense that it doesn’t bode well for you. Not that you couldn’t have already known that with all the blood you were coughing up and the pain that had persisted in your chest for a few weeks already. You were so, so tired. Nausea was rising from your throat, closing up.

You stare at the offending petal. More evidence of your abominable love. Regret surges inside you.

Why did you have to make this mistake?

Why did you have to love him?

Why did you have to betray him?

Tears bud in your eyes, and there’s nothing you can do but let them fall, bitter and full, unwarranted and yet irrepressible. Just like your feelings for him. Just like this pain. Just like-

You don’t finish that thought. It hasn’t happened yet. You’re still praying it won’t, even though you know there can be no other answer to the question of your fate. No other ending.

You have no say in it, and you resent it.

You curl up on your side and let yourself escape the pain of reality as you fall into a dreamless sleep.

----------

Waking up is excruciating. Because it’s then when you know that tomorrow has come and that another day awaits before you, full of tangles and roots waiting to trip you, to cling to you, to hurt you. Dread lives in you, but you’ve long grown numb to it. After all, this is reality. You’re not going to escape it. There’s nothing that convenient. It’s all you can do to just manage, day-to-day.

You peel yourself from your bed and force yourself to go through the morning routine. Somehow, you make it to breakfast, where you slouch in your seat and pick at your food, slowly shoveling a few bites into your mouth.

You glance up when Levi arrives and feel a pang of guilt. You had been avoiding him for weeks now. Well, for the few weeks since your chest had started to hurt because you had your suspicions, and you ended up being right. You had hoped to nip your flowery little problem in the bud, but clearly, it hadn’t worked. You supposed that wasn’t how it worked. You were supposed to not love someone in the first place. You couldn’t just unget feelings. It was a painful realization, both physically and emotionally.

Then, you had wondered if you could just hang out with him, knowing what was going on—but then also realized that you would probably cough around him, which would raise questions and potentially expose you. That was the one thing that couldn’t happen. At this point, you couldn’t stop the growth, but you could keep him from knowing the truth. And that was what you were going to do. No matter what it cost.

You have to admit that he doesn’t look too good today. Dark circles were under his eyes, and he looked like he was about to collapse—it seemed like a miracle he’d even gotten to the breakfast table today. He plops into his chair, not even sparing a look in your direction. You guess it only serves you right, after how you’ve been treating him the past few weeks. Each time you had to turn him down was like another barb in your heart, tightening around it and drawing blood. But there was nothing you could do. Perhaps it was selfish of you, to want to protect yourself from the imminent lash back of crossing the boundary you shouldn’t have.

Of betraying his true friendship.

You shake off your thoughts and clear your dishes. You glance at Levi again, who’s eating like a zombie while scrolling on his D.D.D., but ultimately scamper away. This was for the best—or at least, for you, it would be. You’re not sure what would hurt Leviathan more. Your betrayal, or your rejection.

And you don’t think you want to know. Because you think you might know the answer, and confirming it would only deepen the wounds in your heart.

Levi has been in a haze ever since he woke up. He had hardly slept, having stayed up until the wee hours of the morning in his misery, and once he did sleep, he didn’t sleep well. He’d tossed and turned and overall had been half-conscious but also trapped in a darkness that he couldn’t navigate.

He isn’t paying attention to anything. How could he? He’s not even sure what he’s eating right now, or what he’s looking at on Devilgram. All he’s aware of is this dull pain still in control of him, filtering the world around him, turning it all to darkness.

“Levi.”

He blinks slowly and lifts his head. Asmo is looking at him with a concerned face.

“...What?” he mumbles. The words barely even leave his lips.

“What’s going on? The two of you have been in a mood lately. Both of you came in looking like someone had broken your hearts and are generally listless.”

He swallows the spoonful of—what even was it? Poison apple oatmeal with a smattering of sugared newt eyes?

“What do you mean? Everything is fine.”

But he knows he doesn’t sound convincing. He doesn’t believe those words himself, so how could he? The one thing that did surprise him was the fact that Asmo thought you were also dispirited. You were the one rejecting him, so how could you be unhappy? Consciously remembering what led to his current state only drives another stake into his chest. He winces.

Asmo is peering at him like he’s transparent, surveying him closely with discerning gold eyes. Levi knows it’s never a good sign when Asmo looks at him like that.

“No, it’s not. Your skin is rougher than usual. Come on, be honest with me. Something is going on, and it has to do with each other, doesn’t it?” Asmo puts a hand to his cheek in thought. “You two have barely been talking or spending time with each other in the past few weeks. Did you fight?”

Leviathan stiffens. How was he supposed to answer that? He wasn’t even sure what exactly had happened. One day, you’d just stopped hanging out with him, and that was that. It hadn’t even petered out. He also hadn’t been able to recall anything particularly dumb or offensive that he’d done the time before it’d happened. He’d just assumed it was because he was—well, him.

He bristles and throws Asmo a dirty look.

“Why are you asking, anyway? Even if we did, it doesn’t involve you,” Levi grumbles. “But no. Not really. I don’t know. Don’t ask me anymore.”

Asmo huffs and crosses his arms.

“I’m your brother. I can’t not ask you when it’s been going on for this long. I’ve already been holding back, okay?” He looks around the room conspiratorially and then back at Levi. “Just for today, I’ll make an exception and skip school for you. You have to tell me what’s going on. It affects both of you, not just yourself.”

Levi protests half-heartedly, but he’s shot down, as he knows he will be. Asmo is a lot pushier than he might seem, and he has to give in. He wonders if talking about it might help, although it seemed hopeless at this point. An unsalvageable situation. Or relationship. Whatever. The two of you had been true best friends, right? But then you’d just up and left, and now it was just him again. Alone. As he’d always been. As perhaps it always should have been, until you came and disrupted it. But it had been a welcome disruption, he thinks to himself longingly, his heart aching.

Asmo follows Levi into his room, and they sit. Asmo’s orange eyes are serious, and his pink bangs sway slightly as he tilts his head, scrutinizing Levi.

“You’re a wreck,” he says bluntly. “Tell me what’s going on. I don’t know isn’t an acceptable answer.”

Levi sighs and slumps forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“I mean, I don’t know,” he starts, but seeing Asmo’s face, continues hastily. “One day, they just stopped hanging out with me, and then it continued. And we haven’t talked much or spent time together since before that happened.”

He sneaks a look at Asmo’s expression, which is disgruntled. Asmo seems to be in thought, puzzled.

“Do you know why? Or have any ideas?” he prods.

“If I knew why it would make this easier, wouldn’t it?” Levi exhales in frustration. “No, I don’t know why. I spent hours thinking about everything we did the last time we’d hung out and if I’d done anything dumb or offensive. But there was nothing different from usual. And it was sudden, too, when we stopped hanging out.”

Asmo leans in curiously.

“So it wasn’t gradual. Any other details?”

The other demon blows his bangs up with a puff of air, out of his eyes.

“No. Uh, I mean, I’ve asked to hang out multiple times. I even went in-person. And they said no, every single time.” He pauses. “Usually, they said it was because they were studying. Or they didn’t say why. But I mean, it’s no wonder they wouldn’t want to hang out with a disgusting otaku like me.”

The sound of the aquarium water filter punctuates the silence as both sit in thought.

“Did you notice anything weird about their behavior?” Asmo looks into Levi’s eyes. “Because I think something is up. I don’t think it’s because of you, or they wouldn’t have spent time with you before, either. They seem distracted all the time, and they’ve been shutting themselves in their room a lot more often, too.”

Leviathan leans back, crossing his arms and thinking. Weird behavior? None that he could think of. Or anything that mattered. He frowns.

“No, not really. Although I had wondered if they were sick because the other day I heard them coughing through the door of their room after they said they couldn’t hang out.”

Something glints in Asmo’s eye, and Levi’s not sure he likes it. His palms are starting to get clammy, and he rubs them against his trousers clumsily. It doesn’t help, but he does it again anyway in vain.

“Levi.” Asmo catches his attention and he freezes, looking up. “We need to talk to them. I don’t think they’re sick, exactly—not in the way you’re thinking.”

Levi’s shoulders droop. How was he supposed to talk to you when he could scarcely get within a five-foot radius of you? That was too tall a task for him to accomplish.

“You’ll have to talk to them alone,” he says dejectedly. “I’ve barely been able to talk to them, much less approach them the past few weeks. They hightail it immediately when I come into the picture.”

Asmo sighs and shakes his head.

“Alright, alright, fine. I’ll talk to them for you. You owe me,” he smirks.

Levi opens his mouth to object—he doesn’t want to be in Asmo’s debt -but thinks better of it. This was the best chance he was going to get in terms of ever finding out what was going on, and why in Devildom you’d been avoiding him. He just nods.

“Fine. But only if you get to talk to them and find out something.”

Asmo laughs.

“Of course. I’ll get the job done, don’t worry.” He stands and heads for the door. “I’ll let you know when I have. Or, preferably, I’ll send them your way so the two of you can talk.”

Levi’s not so sure the second option is feasible, but he wants to hope that there’s still a chance, however slim it may be.

“Okay.” He looks at Asmo. “...Thanks.”

Asmo just grins and winks at him and pops out of his room.

Levi sits on his gaming chair, still feeling like he was half-dead. But at least he was a little less dead. Hopefully, Asmo would come back with news, whether good or bad. But he knows he shouldn’t hope. His hopes will only be crushed in the end, anyway.

----------

You’re walking back into the House of Lamentation after school and traipsing through the garden when someone calls out to you. You blink and turn.

“...Asmo?”

He smiles in that Cheshire cat way of his.

“The one and only! Listen, let’s have a little chat. I noticed you haven’t been doing the best recently.”

Before you can say no, he hooks an arm around yours and practically hauls you away and lets both you into your room. You stumble in and sit on your bed as he closes the door. Your throat is tickling, and you take a sip of water from your water bottle. You can’t cough. Not while Asmo is here. He’s too astute. You know he’ll pick up on the reason straightaway.

“So what do you want to talk about?” You eye him suspiciously.

Asmo sits on your chair, and suddenly his eyes aren’t laughing anymore.

“I know something’s not right. Tell me what’s going on.”

You smile and play dumb. It was always the best tactic, especially when you didn’t know what cards your opponent held—in this case, what Asmo knew.

“What are you talking about? I mean, my studies aren’t too great, but that’s nothing new.”

He shakes his head, disapproval leaking into his voice.

“You’re not doing anyone any favors by beating around the bush. You’ve been avoiding Levi.”

You register his words, and half-relief, half-dread crawls into your heart. At least that seemed to be most of what he knew. You purse your lips.

“...Well, I can’t deny that,” is all you can say. It wasn’t like you had any excuses for Asmo.

“Why?” he presses.

You fix your gaze to the floor and swing your legs back and forth.

“I’m just trying to catch up with my studying. Lucifer will skin me and feed me to Cerberus if I don’t get my tasks done right. It’s a lot to manage, so I haven’t had time to hang out.”

Asmo’s eyes are piercing. It’s an uncomfortable feeling, being stared at like that. But you also know that it’s not unusual, given the situation.

“You’ve been so busy that you suddenly had to stop hanging out with him at all? For weeks?” His tone softens. “Tell me the truth. You know I won’t judge.”

It’s true; Asmo had usually been an impartial bystander to all of the problems you’d encountered in the Devildom, a safe confidante and trustworthy. But you can’t tell him. No one can know.

“There’s nothing to tell,” you insist, even though you know it sounds weak. Your lungs are itching. You hope Asmo leaves soon. You weren’t sure how long you could last without coughing.

His face is skeptical.

“I know something is going on.” He puts a hand on your shoulder soothingly. “You look like you’re going through a lot.”

You glance up at him and then look away again.

“It’s nothing. I just have to manage my tasks and studies. Which I should be doing now,” you hint.

Asmo sighs.

“No. Not right now. It can wait.” He smoothes a piece of your hair and then pulls back. “You’ve been coughing.”

It’s a statement. Not a question. And you’re not sure what to make of it. You study him, but your silence speaks volumes.

“...Did you hear me or something?” You run your fingers through your hair, distraught. “I’ve been keeping quiet. There’s no way…”

He watches you panic with sadness etched on his features.

“You’re not sick, are you?” A pause. “At least, not in a conventional way.”

Your eyes meet his, and a flash of understanding goes through you. He knows. He’s known all this time. He was just trying to pry it from your lips, to hear it directly from you. You feel nausea building inside, and almost immediately, as if on cue, you start coughing. The inside of your mouth feels sticky, and you rush to drink water and wash the blood down your throat before he can see anything. But you start coughing again, and he shifts, sitting next to you on the bed. Asmo places a hand on your back and rubs in soothing circles. It’s enough to make you want to cry, and you do. Through all those tears, you finally stop coughing. But something is in your mouth again.

With cold, numbing dread, you part your lips, and it falls into your mouth. This time, it’s much bigger. It’s not a single petal, but the whole bloodied head of a decapitated flower and the sight clutches your heart as you realize what species it is.

“...Purple hyacinth.”

You feel Asmo’s touch halt. His hand is simply resting on your back now. Before you can do anything, he’s plucked the flower from your hand, and you stretch to try and get it from him in desperation, even though you know it’s useless since he’s already seen it.

He casts a knowing look at you.

“This is why you’ve been coughing, isn’t it?” He knows the answer. You’ve never wanted to curse him more than you do now. “I’ll admit that my understanding of flower meanings is lacking, but it’s obvious who this is for, given your behavior.”

You grit your teeth, but tears spring to your eyes again. A stray cough goes flying into your arm, and a few petals scatter onto the floor. They’re beautiful, that muted purple with hints of orchid mixed in, but dyed in its nature, cruelty, the red blood leaving stripes and dots across them, marring that beauty.

You grab Asmo’s shoulders frantically and your shaking fingers sink into his suede jacket.

“You can’t tell him!” You shake Asmo urgently. “Please, Asmo...you can’t.”

Strength is leaving you in spades—any strength you’d had since you’d been condemned to your fate, anyway. You sink to your knees, and they knock against the floor with a thud. Everything hurts, but your chest hurts the most. You don’t know what you’re going to do. It’s hopeless. You’re sobbing, panicked, and Asmo kneels in front of you, rubbing your head.

“Hey, breathe,” he urges.

He waits until you calm down, and you shoot him a murderous look, however weakened the effect of your stare is by the watery veil upon it, blurring the edges of your vision.

“You’re not going to tell him.”

Asmo’s eyes meet yours.

“No. You are.”

Suddenly, you’re laughing. But it’s a crazed, despairing laugh.

“What gives you that idea?” You snort incredulously. “No. I can’t tell him. I won’t. Never.”

His gaze hardens.

“Even if you die?”

You won’t back down.

“Not over my dead body.”

He pulls you to your feet and embraces you. His hug is warm and gentle, almost comforting in spite of what’s just happened. You’re still hurting.

“You need to tell him. The worst that can happen is that he’ll say he doesn’t like you, and you won’t be any worse off than you are now.” He pulls back and pecks you on the cheek gently. “And if he says he does like you, then you won’t have to avoid him or cough anymore. And you’ll be alive. I don’t know about you, but I’d much prefer you alive in the Devildom than not. You’d probably get sent up to Heaven, anyway.”

You can’t help but chuckle.

“Who knows.” You sigh. “Asmo, I can’t tell him. We’ve been such good friends up until those few weeks ago. If I tell him I like him, it’s…” You trail off.

Asmo purses his lips.

“It’s?”

“It’s betrayal,” you finish. “I’ll have been seeing him as something other than a friend. It’s a betrayal of the friendship we had. It’s better to be hated for the way I treat him than the way I love him.” Your eyes are still wet as you stare at Asmo, begging for him to understand. “Don’t you get it?”

He pets you on the head, and his eyes tell you what he thinks. That you’re being silly and worrying too much.

“Oh, he’s not going to hate you even if he doesn’t like you back.” He smiles. “And he does like you, so there’s that. I guess that’s not my place to say—but in my opinion, it’s kind of obvious, although his affection seems to masquerade itself under the guise of friendship.”

You furrow your eyebrows.

“Asmo, I would know if he thought of me as anything more than a friend. Trust me. With all the time I’ve spent with him, I would know.”

Asmo boops you on the nose, laughing.

“You seem to have forgotten that I’ve spent thousands more years with him, while you’ve only spent a few months with him,” he reminds you gently. “You’re also just much denser than you think. You don’t see the way he looks at you. And even for a friend, he’s been moping around, absolutely heartbroken this entire time that you’ve been avoiding him.”

You drop your gaze.

“You’re right. But still. I don’t think he likes me that way. I know it’s selfish, but I can’t stand the thought of being hated for what I can’t even control, which is liking him to begin with.”

“It’s not selfish. You’re just looking out for yourself,” Asmo relents. “But you’re not doing it in the right way. You should trust me. Just talk to him. If you don’t talk to him, I hate to say it, but I’ll tell him the truth for you.”

You grab his hands, lacing his slender fingers with yours, and give him big puppy dog eyes, which he only laughs and shakes his head at. You pout.

“Asmo, please! Just do me this one favor.”

He’s adamant.

“I think you forgot that you’re going to die if you don’t address this quickly. And I’m not about to let that happen. We’re going over to his room, right now.”

You squeal as he picks you up and runs out of the room. He’s strong, even if he’s not ripped like Beel.

“Asmodeus, stop! Put me down! You’re the worst, I swear,” you’re half-wailing at this point. But part of you might be relieved. Maybe you could just get it over with. And then you wouldn’t have to think about it anymore. You could die in peace, you supposed. Accept your death sentence.

Asmo opens the door and shoves you inside, flashing a thumbs up at you and Leviathan, who’s sitting in his gaming chair, now upright, tense, and gawking.

“Have a good talk!”

He slams the door shut, and you turn back to Levi. Being in front of him is harder than you originally thought it’d be. Your chest twinges.

“Levi, I…”

The way he looks at you is so woeful. He’s wretched. He still looks as drained as he did this morning. All of the air seems to seep out of him as he sinks back against his chair, sighing.

“Asmo dragged you here, didn’t he?” His orange eyes flicker darkly. “It’s okay, you can leave. Don’t worry.”

You wet your lips anxiously and take a few steps toward him. With each step, your chest grows tighter.

“No, uh… I should talk to you, anyway.” You hesitate. “I’m sorry, Levi. I didn’t want to avoid you. It’s just-...” You cut off abruptly. It was so hard to say it. You didn’t know how to, either. Your chest burns; you can hardly breathe under the current fire of the circumstances.

Levi shifts in his chair and leans toward you, rubbing his neck.

“What is it? You realized you don’t want to hang out with a disgusting otaku shut-in like me?”

The way he says those words, too, is just the worst. Because he sounds like he truly believes it, and knowing him, he probably does. It’s a knife to the chest. Your throat is itching, and you end up coughing again.

“No, that’s not it…!” You manage to sputter out that much in between your hacking.

He seems to forget himself as he leaps to his feet and rushes to you, closing the distance between the two of you, and he flusters, his hands flailing in the air as if torn between touching you and restraining himself.

“Are you alright? Are you sick? I knew something was wrong when I heard you coughing a while back.”

You glance up at him and your coughing eases for a moment.

“You heard me coughing?” Your stomach drops in horror. You hadn’t hid it as well as you thought. “Did you tell anyone?”

He starts to shake his head but then nods.

“Well, I told Asmo just today.”

You feel like you’ve kicked yourself in the foot as you start to understand what led up to your confrontation with Levi.

“So he didn’t hear me in person. He heard it from you.”

Levi wavers, and his eyes dart back and forth.

“I guess so. Is that important…?”

You shrug, and another cough sends another object into your mouth again.

“I mean, I don’t know, um…”

You let the new entity fall into your hand gingerly. It’s another purple hyacinth, of course. It’s whole this time, too. It’s just tinged with blood this time around the edges, mostly dry.

When you look at Leviathan, he’s in shock as he looks between the flower and you, confused and horrified.

“Did you just cough out a flower?!” He blinks. “Oh, wait, this is just like that manga I was reading, about how the main character coughs out flowers when they think their love is unrequited…”

Damn. It wasn’t surprising he knew, considering his plethora of knowledge for anime and fiction tropes.

“I guess the cat’s out of the bag,” you admit wryly.

Levi slumps.

“So it’s Asmo, huh? That’s why you asked me if I’d told him.”

You stare at him. Was Levi this slow?

“Levi, it’s not Asmo. I asked you because Asmo figured out what was going on with me, not because I like him.” You laugh. “Are you really this dense?”

Levi narrows his eyes and crosses his arms.

“Hey, are you mocking me? I’m not dense! I bet I can guess who it is. Uh…”

You can’t help but laugh. Despite the current situation, the two of you had easily fallen into the same comfortable banter you used to have, and it’s both a relief and slightly startling.

“Levi, at this rate, you’re never going to guess who it is.”

His eyes land on the flower in your hand.

“Wait, I can—just give me a sec… Is that...purple hyacinth?” His eyes look up in thought. “Those represent...apologies and sorrow…? I think they mean, ‘please forgive me.’” He frowns and his face crumples. “Never mind. Just tell me. I’m confused now.”

You chuckle and slip the flower into your pocket. It was time to tell him. Time to face your fate. Time.

You admire those orange eyes one last time. Molten orange, with a flame of shadowy purple leaping inside. You comb your gaze through his purple hair. Muted and soft. You read those lips, slightly pink and always so expressive. Finally, you turn your eyes back to his again, which are looking at you in bewilderment.

“Leviathan, please forgive me.”

There’s silence for a while. You can tell he’s still confused but knows better than to just ask. He’s processing. Then, his eyes light up. It’s the time of reckoning. His face turns pink.

“Wait...does that mean what I think it means…?” He pauses, his cheeks reddening further as he presses his hand to his mouth shyly. “D-Do you...do you maybe li-” He stops, defeated. “Ugh, never mind…”

You groan inwardly. Levi had always been wishy-washy. You would just have to spell it out for him.

“Yes. I love you, Leviathan.”

Those words come out much sharper and matter-of-a-fact than you’d intended. But you can’t take them back. Nor would you want to, anymore. You’ve come too far.

He’s staring at you in awe. But it doesn’t at least seem to be repulsion, so maybe you have hope, the hope of still staying friends, of maintaining the easy relationship you’d had with him before the entire debacle of this ridiculous and cruel lovesickness had fallen upon you both.

“Uh, are you sure? I mean, are you talking to the right person? Someone like me? Really? You must be kidding,” he sputters.

You sigh and take a step back.

“Levi, it’s true, whether you believe it or not.” You should go. You grasp the door handle and turn and look at him one last time. “Please forgive me,” you muster a weak smile. “I’m sorry.”

He flounders and comes over, grabbing your wrist.

“W-Wait, no! Don’t go,” he pleads. Levi’s eyes are open, shining, genuine—something in them is so beautiful, but you’re not sure what it is. “I, uh. I just found it hard to believe. Why are you apologizing, anyway?”

You turn halfway to look at him and tilt your head as you look him in the eye. Your chest hurts. You want to cough again, but you suppress it. The way you’ve been suppressing your feelings. The way you’ve been suppressing the truth. But you can’t suppress the latter two anymore, not the way you could hold in a cough. Perhaps this had been inevitable; as inevitable as your love that had blossomed for him.

“I’ve betrayed you.” Those words, heavy and pained, are almost soundless as they leave your lips. “I’ve betrayed our friendship. We were best friends, weren’t we? And then I ruined it. That’s why I’ve been avoiding you,” you confess. “Because it would be so much less painful to be hated by you for what I could control than to be hated by you for what I couldn’t. And I couldn’t stop myself from loving you. I tried, but I couldn’t.” Your voice breaks in the last few words, and you try not to burst into tears again. You didn’t need another waterworks show, and neither did he.

Levi lets go of your wrist, but he clearly wants you to stay, so you turn fully to face him as you wait for him to respond. He mostly looks stunned, but his face is also bright red. More than you’ve ever seen it before, which is a feat in and of itself.

“You didn’t betray our friendship,” he says. You search his eyes, and they’re honest. Relief overtakes you, although you’re still waiting for more elaboration. “I would never hate you. I was just...depressed when you were avoiding me. I didn’t hate you. And I don’t hate you now.” He fumbles over his words, but you wait patiently. “I mean, I guess what I’m trying to say is… I love you, too.” His last words come out in a rush, and he hurriedly continues. “Like you said y-you...you couldn’t not love me,” he blushes, “I could never hate you, and I also can’t not love you.”

You don’t know what to say. It sounds too good to be true. Like what dreams are made of. Although, you’d readily admit that all your dreams recently have been far from lovely or wonderful or anything close to what this moment was bringing you; pure, unbridled joy, only made stronger by the prolonged absence of it previously. The pain in your chest has dissolved, and in its place is a warmth. You bite your lip.

“Really…? You’re not just saying that to be nice?”

He nods firmly, still red in the face. He shoves his hands in his pockets.

“Ugh, I’m the worst at saying these things,” he sighs. “The way you said it sounded like something straight out of an anime, and then I went and ruined the moment.”

Laughter is bubbling out of you before you know it, and you throw your arms around him, ecstatic.

“Leviathan, you didn’t ruin anything. I love you, and I thought you were adorable. Like you always are.”

He’s tense at first, but he also wraps his arms around you.

“L-Like I always am…?! You’re just saying that, aren’t you?”

His voice is still doubtful. You sigh. You’d have to work on that with him. With him. The thought sends you over the moon and back. You hug him with renewed strength.

“I wouldn’t just say anything. I promise, I only tell the truth when it comes to you, and you’re the cutest demon in the Devildom. And I love you,” you drag out your last words.

Levi’s speech is largely incomprehensible, but you do get a few words out of it.

“I-I love you, too…” He sighs happily into your embrace. “I’m not dreaming, am I? This isn’t an April Fools prank? I’m not getting filmed on the gag comedy show where they trick people and film their reactions?”

You snicker.

“Levi, April Fools passed a long time ago. And you’re awake, in case you couldn’t tell. Should I hold you a little tighter?”

“N-No!” He blurts. “Uh, I mean…! If you hold me any tighter, I might just die of happiness. This is already a lot to handle. I probably used up all the happiness in my life just now.”

You pull back just a little and see his face drop slightly, but then it’s glowing and red again when you kiss him on the cheek.

“How about that? Not going to die from that?”

Levi looks like he’s stopped breathing as he holds you in a fixed state, his eyes glazing over. When he finally does answer, he’s breathless.

“No, I… I’ll survive, I think…”

You place a kiss on his other cheek sweetly, joy fluttering in your chest. You can’t stop smiling.

“Good, because you’re going to have to get used to it from now on. Be prepared.”

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pernatius · 4 years ago

Text

Lost in Space Part 5: Ch 1

Summary: An unnamed Space Explorer must come to terms with the fate of the universe resting in her hands.

Part 1: ch 1, ch 2, ch 3, ch 4, ch 5

Part 4: ch 1, ch 2, ch 3, ch 4, ch 5

————————

The lights attracted me and in the process, they blinded me from the darkness that awaited ahead. They tempted me, tricking me, towards what its people have gotten sickened of. Of why its people want to run away from such a place with so much beauty. Of why its people want to escape from it, but can’t because this is all they know. Leaving would mean entering a new path towards a new world. Leaving would mean entering the unknown. As far as I know, the unknown is just a cruel, faceless power. Forget what I said earlier. It’s brought me more harm than good. This despise is something I’ve grown to feel, something that has strengthened as I scrape the bottom of my foot across this brick wall. I could’ve seen the squishy, sticky, and stinky substance easily with my newfound height, but as soon as I entered the city I was toppled and nearly suffocated by a bustling crowd. It felt as if that serpent from S1Y’s planet wrapped its body around me, squeezing me and tightening its hold every time I conjured the strength to try to fight free. I didn’t even get to scream for mercy, but at least it ended as quickly as it came.

I’m sitting on a piece of some cracked sidewalk with my head against the part of the wall where I didn’t viciously scrub my foot, which is stained with pieces of the substance, as I watch the sea of people I managed to swim past go to who knows where. I could assume some headed towards whatever job they had by their attire and the tiresome look within their eyes. Others I guessed were heading home after finishing school by their attire and their youthful, innocent faces as well. However, in their eyes, I could see they’re being molded. I could see the tiresomeness building within them too. This causes my heart to sink as they spread their gloominess to me. Speaking of gloominess, above the city are dark grey clouds looming overhead. I, unsurprisingly, assumed too quickly. This place is a different world, but it’s the same story. Lowering my head, so that my eyes are looking at the insect crawling under my crossed legs, the figure with whom I have built an unlabeled relationship appears in front of me. They mimic my posture but are looking right at me and are of course not phased by the several people walking through them.

Sighing, I look up to meet their eyes. I note how they’re as black as coal. They’re as empty as an abyss. They’re as empty as outer space. At least they have my face, my face before it became cubic, so I didn’t jump that much. I’ve known this figure for a while. I’ve known them for too long. Realizing this, I chuckle. I brush my hand to where my hair is supposed to be, but I imagined my fingers gliding between the strands. I’ve become insane, I concluded. Maybe I always have. Whether this is true or not, maybe it’s for the best. I take it as the universe getting back at me. When they speak, I also realize I have yet to become comfortable with hearing my voice come out of their mouth. Well, technically it’s my mouth. My mind? Anyways, “You were never the one to give up so easily. Why have you now?”

I am frustrated. I am tired. Most importantly I am hungry. So, I shout, “Because I was stupid back then! I was naïve!”

I could only imagine how the people around us reacted. Some Vector...Some Vection? Some other names not related to Vecta?...However, as Licata’s people are labeled, I’m still shouting at nothing. Clearly, I am done. Clearly, I am out of my mind. So, in the corners of my sight, I see people go around us and make sure the distance between me and them is more than enough for them to make it out unscathed if I am to suddenly pride myself on my insanity. Seeing how I’ve made a fool out of myself, I lower both my shoulders and head.

Quietly, I continue, “I knew what was out there. I’m sure she knew, but it’s only until recently I understand. That she understood too. It all came running at me. Ashley is right. What business do I think that I, a mere human, can fix both the intergalactic issue and personal issues I’ve created,” I sigh for the second time within my depressive state, “And I wanted to find Saamuki? It’s only a matter of time before she finds out about Mikrovos. I failed her. I failed Earth. I failed Ashley. I failed myself.”

“No, you haven’t,” an unknown voice answered in the figure’s place. Turning to it, as my ghostly twin disappears, I see an elderly woman draped in one too many layers of fabric that covered just about every inch of her except her face. This and along with her hunchback causes her to look a whole lot shorter than she actually is.

All four of her eyes squinted at me, causing me to question, “Are you talking to me?”

“Please, dearie, come with me.”

“But I don’t know y-”

Before I can finish she grabs my arm and leads me into the very building I was just leaning against. Somehow for someone of her stature, specifically with the lack of muscle, she can move me without much effort. Once we’re inside she lets go of my arm and proceeds to water a potted plant. The bucket’s water rains onto the plant’s leaves. Tiny droplets of water drip off of the leaves, but most are motioned by the leaves to slide down its stem. Whereby touching the dirt is then absorbed.

I don’t know how much time I have until she turns back around. So, I don’t waste any more time and I reach for the gun hiding underneath my cloak. Again, this elderly woman remains to surprise me because she tells me, “There is no need to get rash. Although, I understand why you want to make such an attempt. I am sorry for my ill-mannered action earlier, but I worried about your safety.” I raised my eyebrow. Well, if I did have one I would’ve. “As you were bickering with yourself, there was a being outside that took interest in you. A being that has ties to those you are currently incapable of dealing with.”

“Right. Well, I’m sure they wouldn’t try to do anything in such a large crowd. It was pure luck that I got past them, but I guess I have to thank you for your consideration anyway.”

Inching towards the door and reaching for its handle, she turns around to face me. The wood beneath us creaks because of her movement. “It’s only natural for those that have escaped from death one too many times think they can, but unknowing to them, now escaping will be their death. While not as sophisticated as the rest of the universe, humans are still remarkable beings.” I fling my hand away from the doorknob. “They have accomplished so much, but they aren’t unstoppable. Even those with a godly presence can be killed as well. You will come to terms with that, human.”

Gun pressed against her forehead, she doesn’t flinch. “You know I’m a human.”

“While you should be careful of your own voice I have known about that part of you for some time now. I’ve known about it even before you stumbled onto my homeworld, but I did not bring you here for trouble. If I was I would’ve done so already.”

“Why? What’s your goal? Why are you sounding like you’re trying to help me?”

“That’s because I am.” She smiles, which causes my grip to shake. That type of smile isn’t new to me. She continues, “Understandably so, you have many questions now awaiting for me to answer. More is being formed the more I speak. Youth does that.”

“Just get to the point. I don’t have the time nor the patience.”

“You’ve been hurt, dearie.” The woman reaches out. Her hand is above my left cheek, parallel to my arm that’s holding the gun. Without me stopping her, she places her hand on me. I flinch, but too quickly I let the affection get to me.

“Because of it, you’ve lost yourself, or so you would like to believe. I am a friend of Saamuki’s sister. Just like her sister, I have an extraordinary gift, but sometimes it’s a curse. It’s greatly reduced my years,” she continued.

Regaining my grip on the gun, “How-How do I know you’re not lying?”

“You don’t. I am a stranger to you, but I have known of you ever since you came to be. Believe what you wish, but if you want to believe your judgment rather than my words then pull the trigger. However, you already know those that are on the verge of death do not lie. My declining health is no secret.”

“If you dare to do anything problematic I won’t hesitate to shoot.”

“Of course.”

“Now what do you mean you’re a friend of Saamuki’s sister? How exactly does that have to do with saving me?”

“As you already know, her sister has passed. While that is true, her spirit has not. She had gotten word about your possible future and its correlation to the universe’s fate. Not too long ago she contacted me. We weren’t that close. We were rivals at one point. At first, I didn’t believe her. No, I didn’t want to believe her. When I saw them looking at you that’s when I chose to believe her. That’s when I knew what might’ve happened may have happened.”

“What do you mean possible future? What do I have to do with the fate of the universe? And who’s them?”

She coughs before answering, “The universe is no longer what it once was. Centuries ago the universe was at peace. Because of this, it wasn’t prepared. It was naïve. One being split themselves into several. On that day they became the ruler of the universe. Scattered throughout his kingdom are their Watchers. Watchers take notes of the cracks in the walls and report them back to the Lords. One of those cracks is a human, millions of lightyears away from her homeworld. It is that very human that will free the universe from the Lords’ reign.”

“That’s some nice lore there, but me? You said it yourself. I’m a human, one that’s definitely incapable of doing a universe-wide coup d'état. These Watchers have to be far stronger than anything I’ve ever had to face. So, there’s no way I’m able to do the impossible you’re asking me.”

“Correction, I said that you’re currently incapable.”

“I’ve only made it this far because I had people with me. They did the work. Not me, but when I tried to I got my ass kicked. So, I’m not some messiah. I’m just a human who’s lost in space.”

“We only claim we are lost when we have become blind.”

“That’s a lot coming from you.”

“I could see much more than you think I can. I can see you are hungry.” With that, my stomach growls, and I can feel my face heat up in embarrassment because of it. “I’ll whip us both some lunch.”

I let her walk away and head into a room behind a curtain. With her leaving me alone, I notice the place’s details. Her home, I assume it is, is small. It’s nearly claustrophobic. Candles float above and bookshelves have been stacked on either side of me. They touch the roof, but that’s not saying much considering I have to slouch just enough for my crown not to touch the candles. The bookshelves, though not grand, held a couple of hundred books at one point. They’ve scattered all over her home over time. A handful rest in a pile next to my left foot. Many of them lean against the feet of the bookshelves. The rest have been stacked into a makeshift table for the potted plant. Dust sparkles in nearly every inch of this place. Cobwebs as well, but they’re not as prominent.

The old woman motions for me to join her in the other room. Maybe I felt bad because I got the hint that I'm the first living person that’s talked to her in a while. Maybe it was because I’ve been hungry for the past half hour. Whatever the case I follow. Besides, whatever she cooked smells too good not to try. Although, as I should know by now, with every step towards heaven there’s always something that’ll make me slip back into hell.

#199 #lost in space #writers #writers on tumblr #writeblr #my writing #creative writing #spilled ink #fiction #scifi #wlw #fantasy

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