#shoutout to my ocs for helping me feel more comfortable in my body

[rozugold]

Just had the biggest rush of gender euphoria while taking off my lipstick

[wordstome]

Last night I did what I always do when I can’t fall asleep: think about fictional men. Here’s a list of wonderful stories written by incredibly talented people who have helped me think about fictional men by providing the most delicious playgrounds.

In the interest of keeping my recommendations brief, I'm going to talk about what I liked about the fic instead of summarizing what it's about. To know what it's actually about you're just gonna have to click through and read the fic <3

(and just in case anybody's gotten lost, this is all COD, mostly modern MW)

✦ complete ║ ➠ ongoing

König

✦Just Friends by @kneelingshadowsalome Salome is so good at capturing a very unique interplay between König’s social awkwardness and his deep, dark, nasty inclinations. He’s so feral and enjoyable to read, and the sheer force of his desire for Engel is downright intoxicating. I find it difficult to describe how much of an impact Just Friends has had on me and my portrayal of König, to be honest. There's a reason why three of Salome's fics are on this rec list.

✦Fatum Nos Iungebit by kneelingshadowsalome Five words. König with his cock out. That's it. Okay, but in all seriousness, I love his character applied to this setting. All the raw visceral violence a König could ever want, a pretty little lady in his bed—he's so boyish and happy in this au it brings me such joy. The way their relationship between him and Fee develops is so natural and so sweet. Please for the love of God read this.

➠Cat/Mouse/Den by @papaver-decervicatus The chase. The pursuit. The adrenaline when Mouse dances out of König's reach once more. I'm a little biased because I adore Julius and Jenny (I could call her Lucretia but the double J names make me giggle) as ocs already, but CMD is so, so well written. The tension, the flirting, the scene where he catches her falling out of the tree?! As I said in a reblog, I shrieked. You know when you're reading something that's so good you want to bite down on it and shake like a dog with a toy? (No? Just me?) That's how I feel about CMD.

➠Anything by @darklordofthesimp Anything, in only 7 chapters (they are hefty, don’t get me wrong), has turned König and Birdy’s dynamic from “THIS MOTHERFUCKER HAS IRREVERSIBLY SCARRED MY BODY AND MY BRAIN, AND I CANNOT TRUST HIM” to “these two are going to get married someday”. (author if you’re reading this, I say that not as an expectation or prediction, but as a vibe reading.) This one is for the hurt/comfort girlies. Also, shoutout to all the other stories set in the Anything-verse. Sunshine and Ghost are just soooo *grips my hand in a fist so hard it shakes*

➠If you need to be mean by @gremlingottoosilly This mostly serves as a blanket recommendation for all of Gremlin’s fics. I found If you need to be mean, and then visiting Gremlin’s author page was like opening a treasure chest. Want to be König’s pampered, (unwilling) little housewife? That’s If you need to be mean. Want a harem fic with almost all of the COD MW men? Gremlin has two, both with their own little spin to keep it fun. Do you want König to keep you in his basement or hunt you down as a serial killer? Gremlin's got it. Monsterfucker? Gremlin has that too. Special shoutout goes to 1295 kilometers. I think about fucking König on a train a lot now.

➠Break my mind by @kaiasdevotion (kaiasown on ao3) There’s no way around this. This fic has the most unhinged, kinky, downright dangerous smut I’ve read in the cod fandom so far (positive). Just Friends König is the metric by which I judge all other Königs’ nastiness, and Break my mind König is tipping so hard on the “unhinged horny violent freak (affectionate)” end of the scale he’s about to fall off. I don't know if you guys have noticed, but I've developed a taste for writing/reading from König's perspective, and he's so chillingly deranged in the most controlled way possible during the chapters from his pov. Incredible writing. Chefs kiss.

✦Experimental by @uhohdad (surgeoninspace on ao3) Alright, enough of just König being nasty. He is still nasty in this one, but he’s not the only one who gets to have a little fun and be a total creep. Our little scientist here is a grade A pervert, and I was delighted the whole way through. The most important thing I need in a fic is suspension of disbelief, and Experimental takes an unrealistic, maybe a little bit silly situation and makes it so believable. Everybody reacts the way you would expect them to, even if the scenario they're in is A Lot.

➠Little Mouse and Rotes Madchen by @sprout-fics I'm combining the recommendation for these two because while they are both very much distinct, unique fics, I love them the same way. Sprout is such an engaging writer, and the internal dialogue of her characters is so well done. It reveals their personality, motivations, and internal conflicts without being overly expository. Do you guys remember that post I put on the König bible about instant obsession? It's this inexorable attraction borne from obsession that sticks me to Little Mouse like a glue trap. (Is that too morbid?)

✦Hot in Sarajevo by @50cal-fullauto Rags' König characterization post is on my Königcore bible, for very good reason. They get it. König is a feral dog forced to live as a man and loves like a total maniac, emotionally and sexually. I marked Hot in Sarajevo as complete but I don't know how many parts there are going to be, and frankly, I do want more. However, if you're going to only read one part (which. why would you do that??? read both.) I recommend the second part. I want to write love like that. Goddamn.

Ghost

Yeah, this list is a little bare bones right now. I'm gonna get back to it, I promise.

✦Anhedonia by kneelingshadowsalome The way. Salome takes the "I would take a bullet for him but he's so cold to me" premise and then flips it entirely on its head for the second part is so important to me. The way Simon craves the reader is like human catnip. I reread this fic all the time.

Keegan

✦For the Weak and Weary by @halcyone-of-the-sea Read this if you want to believe in true love. That's all. Go on now.

Multiple

✦Easy by @danibee33 When people say "I wish this were a book!" about fanfiction, they usually mean it in a "this is good enough to be published by the traditional publishing industry" way. When I say I want Easy (and Diablesa) to be a book, I mean it in a "I want to get this story bound in a beautiful ass cover and keep it on a shelf so I can take it down and reread it whenever I want" way. I don't want the traditional publishing industry to get their claws in this, because it's perfect as it is. This fic is so wild and fun, and the character moments are so special and well done. Do yourself a favor and savor this one.

➠@ghouljams's entire blog [masterlist] "What do you mean someone's entire blog" YOU HEARD ME. Those aus are some good shit. Good characterization, delicious premises, love the group effort of it all. To absolutely nobody's surprise, my favorite couple is König and Bee from the cowboy au (ditzy but well-meaning and competent in her own way woman x big strong man who is obsessed with her and maybe also creeping on her, my beloved), but I also have a fondness for Ghost and Die from demon darlings au. Trust me on this one. Dig into those masterlists babey.

[slutsareteacherstoo]

I Hope - A Terry Richmond Drabble Part Two

Black Fem! OC - Savannah (dark skinned, curvy, and disabled) x Terry Richmond (Gentle!Terry, Sweet!Terry, Nervous!Terry)

(I gotta get better at these tags, suggestions welcome!)

Summary: Savannah and Terry continue with they left off. But something stops Savannah leaving her unsure if what was supposed to be the perfect night is now ruined.

[PART 1]

Warnings/Things of Note: Slightly NSFW/NSFT (moaning, kissing, nipple play I guess...), fluff and comfort, playful teasing, anxiety, dissociation, mentions of disability, sex and trauma, intense ass eye contact and staring (it might turn into kink if you squint a lil bit), Switch!Terry (not really but we shall see...), people wearing masks (surgical, kn95, n95), shoutout to the library!

Really though, if you dissociate and/or have trouble staying present in your body, for any reason and/or you be feeling things too much and it make you wanna dissociate, proceed with caution. While it's cool to see yourself reflected in writing, it can also be disorienting. So. Before you read. I want you to have some grounding tools near by and take breaks as you need them.

Word count: 3K+ (3,679 WTF?!?!?! YAY ME)

Author's Note: Okay, yall. Here is the second part. This thing is long! I'm typing this in drafts right now on my computer. I have to copy and paste in into docs because I have no clue what the actual word count is (That shit was 10 pages when i pasted it in WORD!)

Thank you sooo sooo much everyone for your support. I'm glad you enjoyed the first part. Highkey...it's giving series cuz the things I imagined>>>> I'm a covid conscious girlie who still be masking outside so it's been a minute for me in this department! Trying to use my imagination and conjure the connections I know people are seeking, navigating the world like I do. So as i use my big brain, it'll pop up in my writing. If you wanna see more, let me know so I can add you to the taglist. I'm not touching this again til November! I got grad school apps to submit!

I hope you enjoy!

I'll give it to you freely

Cause you're so damn worth it

Oh will you still love me

Even when wе're hurting

Even when wе're hurting

As Terry returned to what he and Savannah both realized was her sweet spot, he indulged himself to hear Savannah’s moans over & over; each one differing in pitch and tone. Applying the pressure of his tongue to the spot and up to her earlobe, she made a low moan. And Terry felt as she pulled him closer. The feel of her long nails caressing his shaved head and neck and her sounds were bliss. The apprehension and embarrassment that Savannah had previously felt, were gone now. They were replaced with incessant need, incessant hunger. The need to feel this man on her, with her, inside her —skin under skin. The contact he gave her was none like no other. She let the sounds of pleasure spill from her mouth as Terry obliged her to.

As of this moment, Savannah was tapped into her body. The feeling was overwhelming but it wasn’t too much. When Terry came up for air, he looked into Savannah’s eyes, deep dark brown satellites. They marveled in comparison to how she described his planets. The look on her face was one he’d never seen before but was honored to know he helped put it there. She let out a shaky sigh.

“You’re really good at this sort of thing.”

Terry chuckled with a smirk, “I am.”

At the next thought, Savannah sheepishly smiled and looked away. Terry brought his hand to her chin once again, slightly nudging her to look at him.

“What?” Terry said with a smug ass grin, admiring the woman before him.

Savannah looked down with her eyes and flitted them back to Terry’s.

“I don’t know if I can ask you this.”

“You can ask me anything you want.” Terry slow blinked as he responded to Savannah.

She took his left hand from her chin and placed it on her chest, “Can you touch me here?” Grabbing his other hand, she added “and here?”

Terry said, “I can. What would you like me to do?”

“Whatever you want.” Savannah replied, focusing fully on Terry’s now bright eyes, while she bit her deep, brownish pink bottom lip. Terry took those words and massaged her chest. She was still wearing her black high neck tank top, the opposite to Terry’s gray one. When he squeezed, she let out a hiss. Terry took his thumbs and massaged what he felt were the outline of her nipples. At that, Savannah let out a “fuck”. Terry stopped, looking at Savannah, waiting for her eyes to open. Her dark brown skin was gleaming with the slight sweat she’d worked up.

“I didn’t say stop,” she said lowly, eyes heavy lidded with hunger. And so, Savannah was determined to maintain eye contact with Terry—to eventually be the one to win one of these staring contests. As he flicked his thumb in slow circles over her nipples, Savannah felt herself floating away. The feeling was good. Too good. Maybe too overwhelming. She was getting lost in the feeling. A new one, but overwhelming nonetheless. She was trying to stay here, stay present in this body. Her thoughts were interrupted by Terry squeezing her right shoulder. She blinked and focused back onto the objects inside of the room. The TV atop the dresser and the music sounding from it. The light on across the hall. Her clothes on THEE chair™️, and making them center back on Terry’s face.

Terry had seen Savannah enjoying the feeling, eyes rolling back at the pleasure, excitement and trying to maintain her focus on him. He wasn’t gonna lie. It gave him an ego boost. But then, he saw her eyes go in a slightly different direction. Her voice, her body still responding to his movements but her mind had gone elsewhere. Her eyes had glazed over and it made him stop.

“Savannah,” he squeezed her right shoulder again, “Savannah, baby.”

Her eyes found his again and her face contorted into a frown. You could see the disappointment on her face. Whatever feelings that were coming up for her right now, he wanted to make space for them —to make space for her.

“What is it?” Terry uttered softly.

Savannah shook her head from side to side. She kissed her teeth softly and said, “It was really nice. It felt good. It felt really good.”

Terry nodded wordlessly as he kept his hand on her shoulder, alternating light squeezes while he massaged it.

Savannah continued, “I felt too much. Not that anything you did was bad or wrong. It was perfect actually. Really really perfect.” She wanted to reassure him.

Terry gave her a small smile, “But?” he added.

“I felt it too much. It felt too good. And I think—“ she cut herself off. She thought what? That she couldn’t do this? That this might be harder than she thought it’d be? She didn’t want to say it. She didn’t want to think or even say or talk about herself as being too much. She’d done so much work already to remove that from her vocabulary, from seeing herself that way.

And Terry never did.

She hoped he wouldn’t now.

“I think that because the feeling—because EYE felt the feelings so intensely, I was so in my body, paying attention to everything. And that was scary. I think I got scared. I think we got scared.” The we in question was her body. The both of them were still navigating this together and it was difficult.

Savannah hadn’t even noticed the single tear that spilled onto her cheek until Terry wiped it away.

It was clear today that she would not be the winner of any of these staring contestants. 

Focusing on Terry and talking about this, made it too difficult. Eyes darting around the room as she talked, mostly because she didn’t want to see him. To see if the look on his face would change at all to pity. She couldn’t bear it. She hoped not.

Terry’s heart broke a little. But he made sure to maintain his steel of softness for Savannah. He didn’t want to speak too soon, speak over her, or imply anything that may not be true. He just wanted her to talk, to tell him what she needed. And he would help her in whatever way he knew how.

“I don’t want you to think,” Savannah said finally braving to make eye contact with Terry. Her nostrils were flaring and she was trying to keep her voice level. She didn’t want it break. But it did. “Less of me.”

At that statement though, Terry had to interrupt.  “I don’t think less of you.” Savannah raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “I don’t,” he doubled down and countered in a firm tone.

Savannah rolled her eyes in exasperation and sighed loudly. Not at Terry. Not even at herself but just at the situation. When Savannah could not find the words to say, Terry decided to speak some more.

“I don’t think less of you. I never could but especially not because of this. You told me that you needed—that we needed to take it slow. Like I said, you are in control.” He took a pause. “ I’m with you because I like you. I like you because of you. This,” he picked up her hands, pointing his chin to their hands and to Savannah. “means something to me. You are important to me.” He squeezed her hands for emphasis.

As he considered his next words, there was  silence between the two of them. Savannah had briefly removed one of her hands and used the bottom of her palm to wipe her eyes. She joined hands with Terry again, as the two lay side to side, knees facing inward. Music was faintly playing in the background. 

It was a simple yet hypnotic melody. In fact, that’s why they’d let it repeat over and over. It was Terry’s choice. And it was definitely going to be up there on his Spotify Wrapped. 

When he first heard it, Savannah had immediately come to his mind. She was definitely special and knew it immediately when he’d come across her. 

—

Savannah was oblivious in her own world when he crossed her path. He was awestruck. 

It was the sound of her voice that piqued his interest first. He heard her before he saw her. After locking his bike out front, he walked through the library’s sliding doors. He’d heard it as the metal song he’d been listening to was fading out. She was at a table explaining something to the group of people in front of her. There was something about her voice that was soothing and captivating. Taking his buds out ear by ear, he was able to hear her voice in its fullness. He didn’t have the first clue about how the nutritional value of frozen fruit and vegetables was just as good as fresh, but he’d listen more to find out. 

Staring in her direction, he was immediately taken by her. She’d been wearing a bright pink bandana over her hair put in a thick low puff. Clear, purple glasses over deep, dark brown cat eyes, lined in black. Thin, oversized hoops framed her face. The rest of it he couldn’t see because she was wearing mask. It was a white one with blue straps. It made him scrunch his face in curiosity, especially because most of the library patrons he could see weren’t wearing any. He’d done a quick ocular scan of the space from periphery to main fields of vision. Yup. He’d spotted maybe 4 or 5 people outside the seated group wearing a mask at all. Some wore thin, black and light blue ones. Others wore more sturdy-looking ones? People had them the in different colors—white, black, pink green. He wasn’t wearing one either. But no mind that, he wanted to hear more of what she had to say. 

She was wearing an orange crochet cardigan with a white ribbed shirt. The shirt was stretched over her large chest and tucked into black stretchy yoga pants. 

The thick waistband outlined the roundness of her soft belly. They hugged her wide-set hips that framed her full thighs.  The rest of the material flared out at her knees, covering her white and light brown running shoes.

It was at the appraisal of her lower half that made Terry let out what he thought was a mental, “Damn,” and considered what behind might look like. He realized that was not the case when the library worker at the front desk cleared their throat loud enough for Terry to hear and get the hint. He whipped his head in their direction, smiling apologetically and nervously with wide eyes and thin lips. He was being a man, in a way he was NOT proud of right now.

“Sorry about that. Is there a place I can charge my phone?” he asked while adjusting his backpack.

The worker pointed in the opposite direction of Savannah and her group. The worker was wearing a thin, black mask so he couldn’t see the bottom half of their face. But the expression in their eyes made it clear he needed to keep it pushing and do so expeditiously. He thanked them and made his way to get some juice for his phone.

—

Lizzie’s voice was crooning on the song’s fourth verse, fading out the memory 

I'll give it to you freely

Cause you're so damn worth it

Oh will you still love me

Even when wе're hurting

Even when wе're hurting

“You are important to me,” he repeated “I’m not going to say that I don’t care about it. Because it wouldn’t be true. I care about whatever affects you, however it affects you.” He was looking down at her, the pair’s eyes a perfect match of earth, water and soil. Her eyes didn’t leave his this time, despite the silly face Terry made to break the tension in the room.

Savannah laughed and resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She was getting better at keeping up with him. Maybe one day she would win one of these staring contests, he pretended not to know about. Attagirl.

“You can take however long you and your body need to adjust, to get back into it.  Take your time, baby.” he rested his forehead against hers, rubbing his thumb at her cheek “The loving ain’t going nowhere.” he said with wide grin, while Savannah let out a short, spluttering laugh. 

“Okay, Mary J Blige,” she said shaking her head and rolling her eyes upward, staring at no place in particular.

“I got you,” Terry said booping Savannah’s nose.

“You got what?” she said with in an incredulous look on his face

“You,” he emphasized, “You can’t keep eyes on me.”

Savannah waved his hand from her face, the gold, medical bracelet glinting in the light. “Boy, bye.” She twisted at her waist to reach for her glasses on the nightstand. When she faced Terry again he was supporting himself up with his left hand, while his right one propped his head. Terry was staring at her as if he were enchanted. He’d always stare at her like that. And Savannah couldn’t believe that he still was, especially after how tonight went. He was making her feel all self-conscious and shit. Damn him and his fuck ass, color-changing eyes.

“What?” Terry said softly, cutting off her thoughts

“Fuck you and your fucking eyes”, Savannah playful shoved his shoulder.

“Why you say fuck me for?” Terry said aloud after letting out a laughter of shock, thick eyebrows raised and eyes widened.

“Because!” Savannah retorted, mirroring Terry’s expression and previous tone.

“Because what?” Terry said now in a softer tone, while squinting at her. He’d reached out for her hand again without looking. She accepted it and Terry interlocked his fingers with hers. It made Savannah smile, clearly showing because her eyes never left his.

This man was gonna be her undoing, she was sure of it. And he was sure she’d be his.

“So,” Savannah paused, while she focused on the feeling of the small circles Terry rubbed on the back of her clasped hand. “I didn’t ruin tonight?” she asked, avoiding Terry’s original question. Her left arm was bent at the elbow on her pillows, mirroring Terry while he was now lower than her. She felt Terry shift and then his hand on her knee. He slightly dipped his head, green-gray eyes asking for permission. Savannah nodded her head yes, and she felt Terry gently grab the back of her right knee, pulling it closer to him. Savannah loved the way the skin his rough textured palm felt against the soft smoothness of her legs. And Terry couldn’t get over how soft and delicate her skin was. Especially when he grazed her sides, feeling her rolls and ripples. It was supple and satin-like. He was grateful for the privilege he was allowed in getting to touch her. In allowing him to do anything with her. He’d do anything she’d ask in return.

“You did not,” Terry said. “I got to spend time with you. I got feel and caress you.” He demonstrated by caressing the back of her thigh. “I got to learn more about the sounds you make when you’re really feeling good ,” he said wiggling his eyebrows. Savannah scoffed and rolled her eyes.

Terry kissed his teeth, holding in his smirk. “See, there you go again.” he said in a light teasing tone. It was Savannah’s turn to kiss her teeth.

“Ok, but to be fair, today should NOT be counted!” She butted in holding a pointed finger upward

“Nigga, nobody is counting!” Terry laughed out. 

“What do you mean, nobody’s counting? YOU JUST TOLD ME YOU ARE!” she exclaimed in shock and amusement. She wasn’t upset or angry. She felt…vindicated. Vindicated at the fact this mf WAS doing this shit on purpose! Ooh, Terry. When you I catch you, Terry! When I catch you Terry!

Now, Terry didn’t wanna look Savannah in her eyes. He was being shy and evasive and shit. Looking around the room, now that she found him out. He could feel the heat rising to cheeks. Not him blushing over this. Savannah lightly tugged his chin upward towards her.

“Nah, pretty boy. Eyes up here. This is what you wanted right?” Savannah had said, genuinely teasing him. He knew she didn’t mean anything else behind those words, just getting him back for the sake of getting him back. But the way she said them, while grabbing his chin made him feel something. He’d have to return to that thought another time. The firm squeeze she added, and the pressure from the tips of her naturally long nails, to grab his attention again didn’t help.

Savannah was looking at him expectedly, one eyebrow arched with lips slightly parted.

“I mean…” Terry trailed off. He did love staring at her. Yeah, he got a thrill from how any look he gave her she had a reaction to. But it really was her eyes that captivated him. Her eyes were a deep dark brown, iris and pupil ringed in black. They were a cat-like almond shape. Sharp and alluring without meaning too. When she lined them with different colors, it only made them more striking. He could help but admire them and admire her, like one would the moon. Intrinsically and reverently.

“…you got some nice ass eyes. Be distracting a nigga and shit.” Terry chuckled trying not to be the chalant nigga he very much was and Savannah let out a low cackle.

“Heh, hey.” she took that moment to clap her hands slowly, alternating her hands so that palms touched fingertips and fingertips touched palms. Swiping away some of the doubt and insecurity in her head. It made her get a big one.

Whew! Savannah didn’t know she’d be able to relate to Victoria Monét when she sang it, but making niggas feel a way is a forté really. Well, shit. She wasn’t gonna feel guilty about using his face and his eyes as the last thing she’d sense in her grounding practice anymore. And, she was making him fold like he made her fold? Nah, the game was on. She was committed to winning a few of these stare-downs and she was gonna come out on top, one way or another.

“Anyways, back to what you were saying much earlier.” Savannah ushered him to continue after they’d gotten hella distracted and off course. She appreciated the levity Terry added to the moment for her sake. But Savannah really did need to know that she didn’t ruin tonight and that she shouldn’t feel bad when they woke up tomorrow. She wasn’t in love him yet, but she needed to know, that if it happened —when it happened, a voice in her head said—That he would validate and reassure her when this would come up again. Because it would. Come up again. 

“Like I was saying,” Terry extended the first syllable of the last word for exaggerated effect. It earned him a giggle. “We got to pause and ground together, when we both needed it.” Savannah gave him a slight eyebrow raise. 

Terry began to rub at the back of his neck when he admitted, “I read online that light yet firm pressure could be helpful in helping a partner stay present.” Savannah’s face softened in surprise and endearment. Oh shit! Not him doing self-directed research!

So that’s why he was doing those squeezes and circles!

He continued hesitantly, “Yeah. I was just looking up different articles, going to different websites and other people’s accounts and stuff talking about disability, sex and trauma, you know. I just wanted to make sure I could help you feel as comfortable as possible. And you know, I got kinda nervous too cuz i was like, ‘I don’t know if Im fucking up or doing too much’ so I was stopping when I needed to too.” Terry was rambling nervously and it was so cute and sweet. She couldn’t believe he did that for her. And also that what he found helped him too.

“But yeah, nothing was ruined. I got to be here with you. And see what it was like when you start floating away,” he ended in a singysong way, wiggling his fingers for emphasis looking nowhere in particular.

Terry made sure to snap his head back to Savannah’s. He reached up for her face, his thumb slowly moving up and near her chin and lips. At that, she took a hand and draped it behind Terry’s neck. She used her nails to make slow, stroking movements at the across the length of his neck. She wanted to make sure she heard what Terry was saying.

“But I want you know, that I’ll be right here with you on earth. No matter where you go, wherever you go.” Terry stated firmly. He had an earnest look in his eyes. His, tinged with grey among blue-green ocean waves, moving in sync with hers, being compelled by the draw of her deep brown moons shining with black rings. The tides of feeling and connection present between the two were unmistakable. Undeniable.

Savannah knew that he meant every word. 

And it was scary as hell. 

She hadn’t had someone feel so sure about her in this way, in a long time.

But she wanted to see it through anyways, whatever this would become with time. She hadn’t told him everything, just enough to be in the know. And he took that information and built on it. For them. For her.

Savannah slightly lowered her head towards Terry, hovering her lips right over his. Her chain dangling over his.

“Thank you,” she whispered into his lips. 

“Nothing is ever too much for you,” he whispered back.

And so the tides crashed, leading their lips to softly touch together. Melting with the hopes for the future and the celestial of their current now.

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

Author's Note Pt 2: Comments, questions and suggestions are so welcome (please be nice to me tho 🥺 👉�� 👈🏿) I did try to revise this one and edit it for real for real. If there are any errors let me know.

If you're wondering how he got Savannah out that mask...you gotta keep reading. If you wanna be added to the taglist without getting all my other NSFW reblogs, please lemme know in the replies.

Also I hope that those of you who needed to or still need to take some breaks and do some grounding cuz reading may have been a lot, please do that. Slowly blink your eyes open and close. Stretch your fingers, wrists, arms, and neck. Hell, your whole body. Drink some water. Grab a snack. Put on a mood uplifting song. <3

Also if you somebody like me, who still be masking when they be outside, im writing this for you extra!

For anyone who need it, let this work be a manifestation for the dynamics you desire, that are aligned with you in all ways, with no doubts or questions. May the Divine deliver and you recognize them upon arrival. You got this, boo! 😉

Okay thank you for coming to my TED Talk 🥰 See y'all on the dash

[jaskiers-sweetkiss]

Sunset Swerve - Part 10

Pairing: Luke x OC

Word Count: 5.3K

Warnings: some swearing, i actually think that’s it for this part?

A/N: Okay here’s part 10, or as I’ve been calling it: Part 9 2: Electric Boogaloo. This is a very special edition of Sunset Swerve in which you get to read from Luke’s POV! This is covering the same time frame as part 9 but Luke’s pov provides some different scenes and new insight that’s kinda significant so I would really recommend not skipping it lol. I wanna shoutout @meangirlsx for being my sounding board and giving me loads of help on these two parts! As always, send me a message/drop a comment if you want to be tagged and let me know what you think!

Part 9  Masterlist

___

The week started off great for Luke. He was coming off the high from their performance at the open mic time and the relief that Julie didn’t have to quit the band. The latter fact also absolved him from his guilt of having suggested that Julie sneak out in the first place.

He found himself spending a lot of time with Jordan in the following days between talking about the book he’d started (she had been right, Annabeth was really cool though he maintained that she was stuck-up) and writing music. Their relationship had become much more civil following his birthday, though the fighting didn’t stop. Luke was starting to wonder if Jordan could survive without regularly making snarky or sarcastic comments. Still, the newfound closeness had been… nice. Luke wasn’t entirely sure how to categorize it, especially alongside the feelings he was certain he had for Julie.

As he sat across from Jordan, close enough that their knees were touching as they worked through some rhythms on a new song, Luke found that he wasn’t certain of anything. Jordan felt like a magnet- he realized belatedly that she always had- constantly pulling him closer and closer no matter how much either of them tried to pull away. He was starting to wonder if learning metaphors at book club was really a good thing.

“Hey Luke, can I ask you about something?” Julie pipped up from the entryway of the garage, pulling him away from his thoughts and Jordan.

“Sure, what’s up?” He asked, quirking an eyebrow quizzically.

“Oh, um, actually can we talk outside?” She asked and he furrowed his brow but nodded, setting down his guitar and jogging over to where she stood by the doors.

“This is gonna sound weird but can I ask why Jordan was with you at your house the other day?” Julie asked unsurely once they were outside and Luke froze, not expecting the question.

“How’d you…?” He trailed off, peering at the girl suspiciously. He hadn’t told anyone that he made frequent visits to his house, though he suspected the guys knew and Jordan had figured it out on his birthday.

“Alex and Reggie took me…” Julie said, tucking her hair behind her ear embarrassedly. “After I called you selfish and said you didn’t care about anyone but yourself…”

“That’s ironic coming from you, Miss Boundaries,” he scoffed irritatedly, brows furrowed in anger and Julie sighed.

“I’m really sorry Luke, it was wrong.”

“But now you wanna snoop even more,” he frowned, raising his brows as if to say ‘seriously?’

Julie opened her mouth to defend herself but Luke cut her off with a sigh before answering her question.

“If you must know, Jordan and I have spent every birthday together since we were five, I guess she figured I could use the comfort and familiarity.” He shrugged, trying to downplay how much the gesture had meant to him. It’s been really difficult, grieving his loss of his parents while they grieved him even twenty-five years later. At least when he was a runaway there was still always the possibility of reconciliation. Now there never would be.

“That’s really thoughtful,” Julie said, “But it doesn’t make sense. You guys hate each other, what happened?”

“Oh, we always have,” he smirked to himself, remembering that first day they met. He’d found a massive spider in the yard and thought it would be funny to put it in her hair, obviously, she hadn’t felt the same and the rest was history. “But our parents really wanted us to be friends so… birthday parties.”

“That explains a lot, actually,” Julie nodded thoughtfully and now it was Luke’s turn to be confused, tilting his head in a silent request for the girl to explain. “You guys have these moments where you like, exude this closeness that totally doesn’t fit the nature of your relationship. It makes sense now, knowing how long you’ve known each other.”

“I mean, there was a point where we were basically the closest thing to family each other had,” Luke shrugged, thinking about those last five months in the studio. “Guess we forgot about that when we died.”

They’d grow inexplicably close in those months that they’d lived together. It was an unspoken closeness, neither of them dared to acknowledge it but Luke saw it often in the little things. They’d stopped calling each other names when it was just them in the garage and sometimes when he was stuck on a new song he was writing she’d shout out suggestions from across the room. It was like they’d called an unconscious truce in their grief but when they came back as ghosts that all disappeared, the two immediately back at each others’ throats.

When Luke returned to the studio after his conversation with Julie it had sort of felt like the same thing had happened again. He’d thought he was finally making headway with Jordan, that they’d finally started back on the path to friendship after his birthday, or maybe even something more, and while things hadn’t totally changed, they felt different somehow.

She’d stopped hanging out with him in her free time. Instead, she spent the time holed up in the corners of the studio with her notebook or sitting behind the piano or her guitar, playing or strumming as she hummed softly. Luke wanted to help her out or tell her she sounded beautiful but he couldn’t help but notice how secretive she was being. They’d been working on songs together recently but this one she seemed determined to keep to herself.

When he entered the studio one afternoon to find her notebook on the couch, completely unguarded he couldn’t help himself. He blamed his overwhelming curiosity for why he picked it up despite knowing first-hand how sacred a song journal was.

When he found the partially written song at the back of the notebook he sucked in a breath, chest filling with hope at the lyrics on the page. It wasn’t much, only one verse and a chorus and what looked like half a pre-chorus but he couldn’t help but wonder if it was about him.

[Verse ?]

Bored of games why do you still play?

Back and forth, it’s always the same

You’re player one, I’m player two, who is she, player who?

Roll the dice and make your way

Pre-chorus

I know I’m hard but that’s part of it

You could leave but you are still here

and I’ve nowhere to go but ???

His mind whirled as he tried to work it out for himself. It screamed jealousy to him. She’d started writing after he’d had his conversation with Julie, so it wasn’t an unreasonable guess that he was “you” and Julie was “she.” She was jealous of him and Julie. But was it platonic? Was it more than that?

He was pretty sure he’d lost his damn mind in the hurricane of questions racing through his brain. It was the only explanation for the pure stupidity of what he did next.

“Moss, what’s this?” He asked when she found him with her notebook. Then he started to read off the chorus,

“I’m selfish, I’m selfish, I’m selfish

when it comes to you.

I can’t help it, can’t help it

crazy things that I do.”

“Give it back,” she snapped, cheeks flushing in what he later recognized as a mix of embarrassment and anger but at the time his brain ignored entirely, too caught up in an unthought-out attempt to confront her feelings.

“When I need you I come back to you.

I’m selfish, I’m selfish

when it comes to you.”

“I’m serious, Patterson. You don’t see me poking around in your notebook,” Jordan argued, grabbing hold of the notebook but not pulling it out of his hands.

“You don’t see me leaving my notebook lying around.” His body and his mouth were moving on autopilot but without a GPS as he responded cheekily, letting go of the notebook. Somewhere in the back of his mind, his rational brain was screaming at him to shut up but he just kept talking. “Who’s it about?”

“None of your business.”

Though his brain was on a self-destructive warpath, he couldn’t help but notice how adorable Jordan looked hugging the notebook to her chest protectively. Though, the adorableness factor was negated slightly by the death glare in her eyes.

“I think it’s about me,” he announced smugly, leaning back against the couch haughtily as if daring her to contradict him.

What the hell are you doing, man?

“I think you’re a dumbass,” she spat, and just like that she was gone, poofing away.

He leaned forward, putting his head in his hands with a groan as he realized what he did.

For the next day and a half, he could feel how the atmosphere between them had grown frigid. He’d tried to apologize a few times but every time he got close she would poof away, clearly not wanting to hear from him. What interactions they did have in those couple days were short and snide, laced with venom and insults. The behavior didn’t seem out of the ordinary to the rest of the group, but to Luke, it felt like he’d just stepped from the warm beach into ice-cold water and it was all his fault.

Luke was on the brink of losing his mind again when he went out on a limb that night. He, Alex, and Reggie were about to go out exploring like they did most nights after all the lifers went to sleep and he really wasn’t keen on leaving Jordan in the studio to stew in her anger.

“C’mon, Moss, we’re going exploring!” he called up to the loft. Deciding he’d given her enough space, it was time for ambush mode.

“And why would I want to go anywhere with you?” She called back venomously, not even deigning to come to the railing of the loft or poof down to speak to him face-to-face.

He sighed, clenching his eyes shut briefly before exhaling heavily and speaking.

“Look, I’m sorry, alright?” He called back, wishing he wasn’t doing this in front of Reggie and Alex. “I shouldn’t have gone through your notebook, it was a dick move.”

Luke was surprised at how quickly she forgave him, poofing down only moments after he apologized. He stared at her surprise, his body more relaxed now that she was spending time with them again. He hoped Alex and Reggie weren’t watching him, afraid they might somehow see the pure relief and adoration that he felt for her. Maybe he was being dramatic, but he swore he stopped breathing when she finally turned to look at her. He was totally screwed.

___

The next morning was quiet, though it felt like everything had gone back to normal. Jordan was sprawled across the couch which Luke had stopped trying to claim possession over, it was his couch but at this point, it might as well have been hers. Alex was sitting across from him making a friendship bracelet that he secretly hoped was for him but thought might’ve been for Willie, and Luke was reading his book. Things were really starting to pick up in the characters’ quest and he was apparently so invested that he barely recognized Reggie’s arrival until he heard the word “gig.”

Just like that he was on his feet along with Jordan and Alex, quest entirely forgotten as they all started blurting out questions.

“Where?”

“When?’

“How?”

Reggie excitedly explained how they were having a garage party at the house so that their band could perform and Ray and some of his colleagues would record them professionally for the band’s YouTube. Then Reggie patiently explained what a YouTube was and Luke briefly wondered when he’d learned more about modern technology than the rest of them. He supposed Julie did give him that iPod.

“We’re gonna record a music video? Like on MTV?” He exclaimed excitedly after Reggie had explained.

“Yes, dude! And Julie says if we get enough views we could go big!”

Luke gaped at his three bandmates, trying to come up with a vocalization for the thoughts flying through his head. All of a sudden there was a lot at stake for this event, the whole world would be able to see their performance. It had to be perfect. They needed to practice, hell they needed to pick a song.

He needed to talk to Julie.

When he reappeared in the school hallway he realized he probably should’ve told the group where he was going but it was too late now.

“What’re you doing here?” Julie asked him after getting over the initial shock of his sudden appearance.

“We need to talk about what song we’re gonna play tonight,” Luke said excitedly, grinning at the girl. “I was thinking Great?”

Julie held up a finger to signal she needed a moment before pulling out her phone.

“Wait seriously? You’re just gonna take a call while we’re talking? That’s so rude!”

Julie rolled her eyes at his dramatics before explaining, “Otherwise people might think I’m talking to myself.”

“Right, nice, okay,” Luke nodded, impressed by her quick thinking.

It was strange to be back in a high school hallway after so long, chatting with a cute girl by the lockers. The thought immediately brought the image of Jordan. Wow, he was really screwed.

“But yeah, I think Great is a… great choice,” Julie answered his question and he nodded, satisfied with the choice.

“Alright, sweet! Well, that was pretty much all I wanted to talk to you about so…”

“Oh! Okay,” Julie said, surprised.

“Actually wait- I wanted to talk to you about Jordan,” He started. He knew he and Julie had something between them but with these rising feelings about Jordan he’d been experiencing he didn’t want to lead her on. “Look, I, uh, I don’t really know how to say this but-“

“You have a crush on Jordan!” Julie gasped, effectively cutting him off.

His cheeks turned red and he scratched the back of his neck embarrassedly.

“Yeah- I mean, I don’t know but…”

“But you don’t want to hurt me,” Julie finished and Luke raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Wow, you are really perceptive Molina,” he said and she smiled.

“You don’t have to worry about me-“

“Sorry, my Patterson Idiocy Meter was going off,” Jordan explained as she suddenly appeared beside him, effectively putting an end to his conversation with Julie. “It lets me know when he’s doing something especially stupid.”

Luke rolled his eyes at the comment, sticking his tongue out petulantly at the girl and Julie gave him a knowing smile.

“Anyway,” Luke said dramatically, rerouting the conversation and turning back to Julie. “I was thinking, you should just ditch school today and come rehearse with us.”

He probably should’ve anticipated both girls’ protests but he still found himself trying to rationalize what he knew was a bad idea.

“Right, you were at school first, and now you’re leaving to go rehearse.”

“Stop trying to persuade her to do bad things!” Jordan chastised him, smacking his shoulder lightly.

“I really can’t. Plus I promised Nick I’d be his dance partner…” Julie explained, and Luke noticed Jordan wiggling her eyebrows at the mention of the name. He was clearly missing something.

“…and he’s heading this way,” Julie finished, pretending to hang up the phone in favor of talking to the blond-haired boy who just walked up.

“Well don’t you look sharp!” Julie’s reaction to his teasing told him all he needed to know about her feelings and the boy was not being sly about his at all. “Uh-oh, I think somebody’s got a crush on Julie!”

He couldn’t help it. It’s the designated role of all close friends to make fun of each other for their crushes. He knew by the way Julie had reacted when he’d told her about his (well, tried to tell her) that she was never going to let him hear the end of it. So, he dove right into it, mimicking Nick’s motions and facial expressions all with a playful glint in his eyes.

“Oh he is just too cute,” he teased when the blond lifer finally walked away.

“Boundaries,” Julie reminded him with a roll of her eyes. “I’ll see you after school.”

She began walking away towards her class but Luke wasn’t ready to end the conversation.

“Fine! I guess we’ll just have to carry you tonight, just like we always do!” He called down the hallway and he could see Julie shake her head slightly in exasperation. “I know you’re smiling, Molina!”

“Shut up, Luke,” Jordan rolled her eyes, smacking his chest lightly and he sent her a cheeky grin. “Good luck Julie! You’ll do great!” She called after the girl and Luke awed internally at the support.

“Yeah! Kill it on the dance floor!” He joined in, shuffling smoothly across the floor as he yelled.

“Dork,” he heard Jordan mutter and he snapped towards her, feigning upset despite how pleased he was at the attention he was getting.

“C’mon, we’ve gotta get rehearsing,” he spoke, brushing off the dramatics but she waved him off.

“I’ll be right there.”

He frowned, wanting her to come with him but he poofed away anyway, landing back in the garage between Reggie and Alex.

They immediately got to work, Luke walking them through Great. He felt bad doing it without Jordan since it was really her and Julie’s song more than anything, but he really wanted them to sound as best as they could. It was her song and they needed to do it justice.

They’d only just gotten through the basic structure and Jordan’s plans for the song, which she’d scribbled into the margins of his notebook pages while they worked on it together, when they were interrupted by a face in the window.

“Again? What’s all that about?” Reggie asked when Willie’s face disappeared from view, the boy clearly knowing he’d been caught.

Luke shrugged in response, just as lost as the rest but Alex stood, seemingly determined to get answers this time as he poofed out.

Despite their typical itch to snoop, the two boys gave Willie and Alex their privacy, instead moving over to their respective instruments to tune and warm up while they waited.

Luke could tell something was off when Alex returned but the blond-haired ghost had gone straight for his drumset, insisting that they start rehearsing. So, Luke didn’t push it, until about halfway through the song Alex got a little too into his drums, no longer playing along.

“Alex are you alright?” He asked sincerely once he’d stopped playing.

“Yeah... yeah, why?” Alex asked, trying to brush it off but Luke and Reggie had already connected the dots.

Alex only ever played like that when he was upset and since he was in a good mood before Willie showed up, it wasn’t difficult to figure out.

“I know it’s tough man. People say you never forget your first ghost.” Reggie spike sympathetically, “but... I’m sure there will be others.”

“Yeah, thanks Reg,” Alex nodded and Luke stepped forward, clutching his guitar strap as if to brace himself. He wasn’t very good at expressing things outside of music.

“Yeah, and Alex, you’re a great drummer and a great guy, okay?” He said, leaning onto the drumset slightly as he spoke. “I wouldn’t let all that stuff get in between you and what you love.”

Alex nodded and Luke finally noticed Jordan’s presence in the studio. He’d started to take steps in her direction to ask when she’d gotten there when Reggie spoke up again.

“I don’t know, sometimes a little fire onstage can make things better,” he said suggestively and Luke froze in the center of the band setup. “Like you and Julie.”

His head immediately snapped towards Jordan, trying to gauge her reaction to the statement. He was already certain she thought there was something between him and Julie, she’d written a whole song out of jealousy after all, but he needed her to know that wasn’t true.

“Uh, what... what is that supposed to mean?” Luke asked, trying to play innocent and hoping Reggie would get the hint and back off.

“C’mon, everyone can see the way you look at her when you sing,” Reggie chuckled, clearly not understanding. “You guys ooze chemistry.”

“Please never say ooze again,” Alex said to Reggie before turning to Luke, “But you have to agree he’s right.”

“No, no.” Luke denied vehemently, chancing another nervous glance at Jordan only to find she had become suddenly very interested in her shoes. “I have chemistry with everyone I sing with.”

It felt like a reasonable excuse to him, and it wasn’t exactly wrong. He did have chemistry when he sang with people, but it wasn’t because of the person, it was because of the music. Still, Reggie and Alex gave him looks of disbelief and he huffed and rolled his eyes.

“Seriously, watch,” he said, taking a determined step towards Jordan. Sure he was trying to prove a point to the guys, but maybe he could prove something else to himself and Jordan.

Still, before he could even take another step she stopped him.

“You’d better take that step back,” she demanded, not even looking up from the floor and his heart sank.  

He shook it off with a sigh, still determined to prove his point to the guys. So he turned on his heel, confidently stepping towards Reggie as he began to sing.

“I believe, I believe that we’re just one dream away from who we’re meant to be.” When he got close enough, he slipped his hand around the back of the bassist‘s neck, pulling their faces even closer together. “That we’re standing on the edge of… great.”

He winked at the boy when he finished and stepped back, watching with a smirk as Reggie gulped. Mission accomplished.

“Wow,” Alex remarked, “I see chemistry.”

“Yeah, that was pretty hot,” Reggie admitted, voice cracking as he spoke.

Riding on the high of his success, Luke took it one step further, kissing two of his fingers before placing them on Reggie’s lips. When he heard a giggle from behind him he whirled around to grin at Jordan, elated that he could turn her mood around. She rolled her eyes in response but he didn’t care. He was starting to think maybe they were a sign of endearment from her with how much she did it.  

“Girls, amiright?” Reggie croaked out and Luke chuckled.

“Yeah,” he agreed and Alex quickly chimed in.

“No,” the drummer said definitively with a light chuckle.

Jordan barked out a laugh at that, poofing over to the drummer to give him a high five before poofing back to the front of the band setup. Luke shook his head at that, ducking his head to hide his smile as he slipped his guitar strap back across his body.

Practice went smoothly after that, though Jordan and Reggie insisted on messing around until Julie got there. He felt kinda lonely with Jordan now hanging out on Reggie’s side of the setup but it was worth it to see her smile and hear her laughter. He didn’t even have the heart to tell them to take this practice seriously since they had a performance tonight. When the hell did he become so whipped for a girl he wasn’t even sure liked him back?

He couldn’t begrudge them their fun, even screwing around Jordan and Reggie were some of the best musicians he knew and it was obvious when Julie got there. They only had an hour of true, focused rehearsal with the whole group yet it sounded amazing. Still, Luke was nervous. If he’d had his way, they would’ve practice until it was perfect but he knew that wasn’t reasonable.

Luke was bummed when Jordan left to get ready in Julie’s room. He figured they needed their “girl time” or whatever but- though he’d never say it out loud- watching Jordan do her makeup had become part of his pre-performance routine and he was a bit fascinated by the whole ordeal. Instead, he spent the time leading up to their performance reading his book or talking with Alex and Reggie.

Luke’s nerves didn’t present themselves outwardly as much as Jordan’s did. It was something he’d noticed back when they’d both started performing. When Jordan got nervous she moved, flicking and shaking her hands, bouncing in place, anything to stop her standing still. Luke, on the other hand, internalized his nerves. He would become uncharacteristically quiet the closer he got. When he first started performing for crowds his hands would tremble, something he’d had to figure out how to counteract pretty quickly because it’s really hard to play the guitar with shaky hands.

Still, pre-performance nerves were when his insecurities popped up the most so when he looked up and saw Jordan, Alex, and Reggie all holding hands in the garage while Julie started the song, he felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. He probably looked like a kicked puppy but he felt like one. His bandmates had left him out of something.

As if reading his thoughts, Jordan reached her hand out to him in a silent invitation to join whatever pre-show ritual they’d started without his knowledge. As soon as he took her hand he understood why they did it: silent solidarity. A small but strong reminder that they were in this together. Then Jordan squeezed his hand lightly, giving him just enough time to squeeze back before they were poofing onstage, well, onto the driveway.

Julie and Jordan were electric in center stage and all five of them were sounding great (no pun intended). Everything was going perfectly until Luke nodded his head at Jordan, silently asking her to come share his mic but she pointedly ignored him. Luke furrowed his brow in confusion as she angled her body away from him as she picked up the next verse.

Maybe it was a mistake, he thought, trying it again as he and Julie joined her vocals.

“Sometimes we gotta lean, lean on someone else to get a little help until we find a way,” they sang together, and Luke frowned slightly. Those lines had always made him think of Jordan, especially after his birthday and it hurt extra that she was ignoring him.

He tried to ignore the stab of jealousy he felt when she moved to the other side of the setup to sing to Alex by focusing on the music and singing with Reggie but it didn’t fully work. He still wanted her attention and he wanted to know why he wasn’t getting it.

His wounded puppy eyes were fully intact when he stepped up beside where Julie crouched on the piano to play his guitar solo. She gave him a sympathetic smile before shrugging lightly, seemingly understanding why he was upset but also unaware as to why he was being shunned. It made him feel a bit better, at least he wasn’t the only one in the dark. As the section came to an end he noticed her eyes flicking out to the crowd and followed them, spotting a familiar blond. He sent her a teasing wink as he hit the last note and she stood fully on the piano in what was a truly epic moment. That girl was a performer through and through.

He slid back to his microphone behind the piano, still hurt but pushing it aside to finish out the performance. Now really wasn’t the time to get lost in speculation and self-pity.

He was surprised when he and the guys returned to invisibility only to see Jordan still out there, singing and playing along with Julie. It was clearly a beautiful and emotional moment for the two and he wondered when they’d planned it. Still, that wasn’t his first question when he finally got time to talk to the ghost girl.

“Hey, so, how come you were ignoring me out there?” He asked her after the lifers had evacuated the driveway.

Reggie and Alex were playing some basketball on the hoop hanging from the garage door while Jordan was perched on the ledge at the end of the driveway, scribbling into her notebook.

“What are you talking about?” She asked, looking up to stare at him in confusion.

“During the performance… I wanted you to come sing with me…” he spoke, leaving pauses in hopes that she’d catch on and put him out of his misery but she never did. “C’mon Moss, I did the head nod and everything!”

“Those were for me?” She exclaimed, looking at him like he’d lost his mind, “I thought you were trying to get Julie!”

He felt the relief wash over him with those words. So it was just a simple misunderstanding.

The relief was short-lived, however, as the four of them were suddenly struck through with another jolt, sending the three guys sprawling to the ground and Jordan doubling over.

“Jesus fuck,” he heard Jordan curse as she clutched her chest and he groaned in agreement, pushing himself off the cement.

“That wasn’t like the other ones,” he said, “It’s getting worse.”

“Why is this happening to us?” Reggie asked, still bent over as he recovered.

“It’s because you guys are in serious trouble,” Willie answered, nervously approaching the four ghosts. “We need to talk.”

They all nodded in agreement, silently moving together before Willie poofed them to Hollywood.

They followed him along the Walk of Fame as he explained all about how Caleb’s stamp was the reason the jolts kept happening. That he’d stamped them to force them to work for him because they were too powerful.

“So, if we don’t join his club, the weird power outage thing continues until there’s no power left at all?” Reggie asked, crossing his arms over his chest nervously.

“Yes,” Willie answered, not meeting any of their eyes.

“What exactly happens when the power goes out?”

“That’s… that’s it. You’re done.”

Luke heard Jordan suck in a breath beside him, freezing in her tracks and the rest of the group slowed to a halt.

“Yeah, what do you mean by ‘we’re done?’” Reggie asked the question none of them wanted to hear the answer to.

“You just… you don’t exist… anymore. Not anywhere.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jordan slap a hand over her mouth as if to cover up a sob. He knew she was thinking about her parents, how she’d never see them again because of this and his blood began to boil.

“So what, we have to give up everything and work for Caleb for eternity?” He spat angrily, “That’s some club you guys got going on.”

He took a step back, reaching down discretely to grab Jordan’s hand, hoping to provide her with any kind of comfort and support.

“But there is another way,” Willie explained, “That’s why I’m here.”

“Another option?” Alex asked skeptically.

“Just please, hear me out.” Willie pleaded, and Luke shared a look with the other guys. “Alright. If you guys could figure out what your unfinished business is, you do it in time, you could cross over and be free from all of this.”

“Okay, so what’s our unfinished business?” Luke asked, squeezing Jordan’s hand reassuringly. He’d figure it out just for her.

“I don’t know,” Willie said. “But since you all died at the same time it could be something you all have to do together.”

Luke’s mind began whirling, trying to figure out what it could be. He was so caught up in his thoughts that he barely registered Willie departing, or Alex and Reggie talking.

“We have to figure out our unfinished business,” he insisted, finally joining in on the conversation.

“Yeah, man, and how are we supposed to do that? Alright?” Alex asked frustratedly. “There was so much we wanted to do.”

The combination of Alex’s words and him noticing the sign in the background brought upon Luke’s epiphany.

“Yeah, but the night we died, there was only one thing we wanted to do together,” he explained, pointing towards the Orpheum sign with his free hand.

Part 11

___

JATP Taglist: @meangirlsx @morganayennefertyrell

Sunset Swerve Taglist: @oopsiedoopsie23 @angryknightstatesmantrash @onlygetaway @deni-gonzalez @advicefromnixxxx @brooke0297 @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic @cordeliascrown

[jeongyunhoed]

A year after the events of Past-Present-Future, Lee Mirae, Choi San, and Jeong Yunho receive a mysterious envelope containing photos and notes about the deaths of several individuals. The deeper they go into the case, they find that the entertainment industry hides a very dark secret.

Group: ATEEZ Pairing: Yunho/OC Genres: It’s a little bit of: adventure, romance, mystery, crime, fantasy, action. Things to note: It also features mentions of other idols/artists: Junhong (Zelo), Dean, Chanyeol, etc. Superpowers AU if it wasn’t obvious as well. Featuring Enhypen. 

T/W: Themes of death, violence, demons, cults, blood, use of weapons and/or firearms, use of drugs (both recreational and medical), implied/referenced assault, implied/referenced suicide

A/N: The main conflict is a reimagining of an actual long-running theory. This is also a remaking of a previous fic I wrote before on Ao3 that will now be under the new super powers au. (if you know, you know). This work is pure fiction and does not bear a direct reflection of the idols in the story. Please let me know if you would like to be included in the tag list.

A/A/N: Introducing Enhypen. hehet! Also, this hasn’t been edited as much. Shoutout to people I’ve been talking to about this, or at least bits of this. haha. Enjoy.

Masterlist

Two

San and Hongjoong stood across the street from the large boutique, the word Montague on display above in gold set against a black background with a gold border. It looked similar to the displays on toy stores overseas, mannequins holding handbags that San knew probably cost millions. He made sure to dress appropriately in the hopes of passing off as a model, as Mirae figured they would likely only entertain those who worked in fashion. Hongjoong was conveniently dressed like a designer, but an armed one. “So, this is where we’re supposed to go, huh?” Hongjoong asked. 

“Mhmm. We have to pretend like we work in fashion, people that work in that kind of place can be very snooty. We need to move like we can afford everything in there,” San explained, in the hopes of assuring himself. 

“Well, let’s get to it, we need to be back by dinner, at least Mirae says so,” Hongjoong nodded. 

They crossed the street, San gripping the handle of the door and pulling it open. The interior of the boutique was, as expected, just as fancy-looking as the outside. A black crystal chandelier hung over their heads with the mirrored tile ceilings. The racks of clothing and shelves to display shoes were in a matte black. The mannequins in the middle of the room looked like they were made out of silver and gold. “Wow,” San looked almost in awe of the place. 

“Those suits probably cost an arm and a leg,” Hongjoong muttered as they looked around. 

“Hello, how may I help you gentlemen?” 

They turned around. Behind them was a man dressed all in black, his hair slicked back. “We’re looking for your manager, I’m Kim Hongjoong of Hong Atelier and I’d like to discuss a possible collaboration with your founder, or designer,” He blurted out. 

“Oh, you’re looking for Madame Seo,” The man replied. San sensed that there was something off about the way he said her name. “Will you follow me, she’s in her office,” He walked off further down the boutique and up a staircase illuminated with small spotlights above their heads against matte black walls. 

“Rather dark in here, isn’t it?” San quipped as they were led down a hall with leopard-print floors. 

“Madame Seo prefers it that way. The daylight doesn’t do much for the fabrics, at least that’s what she says,” The man replied, having heard him. He stopped in front of a red door and opened it. “You can wait here while I inform Madame Seo. Make yourselves comfortable, she’ll be with you in a moment.”

Hongjoong and San stepped inside the leopard print themed room, looking even more puzzled at the change of motif in this part of the store. “Quick of you to say something to that guy,” San sat down on the couch, eyes still scanning the room in the hopes of finding anything out of the ordinary. 

“It comes with what I used to do,” Hongjoong shrugged, moving around the room to look around. “I see Mirae’s been doing very well,” He muttered. 

“She is, she has been for a while now,” San reached for the remote on the side table to turn the television on. “You miss her?” 

“I don’t know, but it feels weird to be meeting again outside the padded walls of the sanitarium I came from,” Hongjoong felt the walls, the leopard-printed wallpaper under his fingertips. 

The program on the television went black and the sound of the program going static filled the room. San stood up, dropping the remote control. The screen began to show surveillance images of the two of them, before it changed to what looked like an information screen. “They know who we are,” His expression dropped. Hongjoong froze in his place. 

The screen went to black again, before more static came on. “I’m good with faces, you have been warned. Don’t snoop around where you’re not supposed to,” said the words that were appearing on the screen. 

“Time to go,” San and Hongjoong raced for the door, the former already reaching into his coat for his harpoon gun. As they opened it, they saw the employee, pointing a gun at them. 

“We ran your faces, we know who you are,” The man said, gesturing for them to move back into the room. “There’s no Hong Atelier, but there is that sanitarium, right?” He turned to Hongjoong. “As for you? Offshore accounts here and there, taking jobs for lowlife gangs and jealous wives, and you were involved in the Kang mob, both of you are,” He glanced at San. “So, tell us why you’re here.” 

“You must be that full of yourself to also refer to yourself in third person,” San said through gritted teeth. 

“Oh I’m not alone, I’m never alone,” There was a coldness in the employee’s voice. “At least both of you have each other when you die, Madame Seo isn’t fond of people lying.” 

“Lying? That’s rich coming from someone who only has this as a front,” Hongjoong spoke this time. 

The employee chuckled. “Oh, believing in that drivel those conspiracy theorists cooked up, are we?” 

“She hasn’t denied those and we’re here to find that out.”

San could feel the frustration coming over him. Hongjoong, however, remained calm. “If you’re going to keep that gun pointed at us, you may as well pull the trigger, we know too much now,” He said. 

“Good idea,” and just before the employee pulled the trigger, he fell to the floor, blood seeping out from his mouth and from his stomach. The blade that came out from Hongjoong’s sleeve was now dripping with blood. 

“There’s going to be more of them, probably,” San peeked outside, the two of them stepping over the body. The other doors along the hall remained closed. 

They looked back at the room they were coming from one more time, seeing if there was anything else they missed, until they saw something glinting on the floor. A puddle appeared to be forming from the employee Hongjoong stabbed. It was a puddle of black liquid. “What the- Is this grease?” Hongjoong bent down to look at the puddle closely. “Where’s the test tubes? Did you bring some?” 

“Oh yeah, I have one here,” San took out one test tube from his coat pocket and bent down to scoop some of the liquid. “I have a feeling we won’t be let out,” He looked up at the empty hall. 

They rushed down the hall and sprinted down the stairs, suddenly hearing screeches and cocked guns coming from behind them. San and Hongjoong skidded to a halt when a few more employees appeared at the landing of the staircase and into the main boutique. All of them were holding weapons. San quickly brandished his harpoon, eyes suddenly glowing as he kicked and punched several out of the way while Hongjoong sliced through the employees behind them with the blades in his sleeves. “This would be easier with my rapier,” He muttered, snapping the necks of some but his eyes widened when he saw how red their eyes were. It was as if they were glowing. 

Splatters of black liquid hit their faces and staining their clothes as they fought their way through the boutique. Hongjoong pushed the mannequins over in an attempt to block the rest from attacking them while San did the same with the clothes racks in the middle of the store. From under the racks and the mannequins was a compartment that they saw had small packets of what looked like light gold powder. San snatched a few while Hongjoong hopped over to the front desk, grabbing whatever files he could get his hands on. “So much for taking the direct approach,” He fired his harpoon through a few, the blades as his eyes glowed, stunning each one of them. 

The two of them returned to the fray, fighting their way through the store and disarming the employees who were still standing, using their weapons against them. Hongjoong nearly dodged one and as one was about to open fire at them, the next thing he realized was that they were both outside the store, the two of them on the sidewalk, with the doors slamming shut. “...What just happened?” San spoke, stunned at how they ended up on the sidewalk, getting back up on their feet. He looked down, feeling a kind of nausea sink in. 

“I-I don’t know,” Hongjoong was just as stunned as he got up, sliding the blades back in place in his sleeves. He looked down at his hands, noticing some unusual glow, that soon spread up to his arms and all over his body. San stared at him, seeing the unusual static glow. “...What’s happening to me?” 

“I don’t know either, but maybe this was what Junhong hyung meant when he said you may or may not have powers, let’s go!” The two of them ran across the street and into the car. 

~ 

Yunho approached the front desk of Kang Tower. It had been a year since he last set foot in the building, noticing how much had changed in a span of 12 months. From the minimalist Japanese-themed interiors last year, the changes he figured Yeosang made now made everything about the place in the art deco style, the walls and marble floors having geometric shapes for patterns, crystal chandeliers above their heads. The interior seemed to be a stark contrast to how it looked outside. 

He stopped in front of the information board, figuring out what floor Yeosang was probably on. He could always teleport if he couldn’t find him where he first stopped. As soon as Yunho figured out the likely place, he rushed into a shadowy hall where he disappeared, reappearing in a dark hallway that he quickly realized was Yeosang’s penthouse. Just like the design of the interior of the whole building, Yeosang’s penthouse was decorated in the same art deco manner. 

“Kang Yeosang?” Yunho called out as he walked further down the hall, the chandelier above illuminating the entire area. He looked around, creeping into the very bare yet equally opulent-looking kitchen. He was not there. 

Yunho went into a shadowy part of the hall again, reappearing in what looked like an empty conference room. From the looks of how everything seemed to be set up, he figured that a meeting was going to be taking place. The doors opened and in came the mutant himself, his hair now dyed black and was slightly shorter than his previous blonde hairstyle. Yeosang stopped in his tracks upon seeing Yunho and turned to the group of businessmen behind him. “Gentlemen, if you don’t mind waiting a while, I will have a word with this man over there,” He gestured to the taller. 

The group of businessmen nodded, dispersing into the hall, likely going to the waiting area. Yeosang closed the door behind him and Yunho sat down on one of the chairs. “It’s been a while, Yeosang, we need to talk,” He said. 

“By all means, I assume you didn’t just come here because you wanted to hang out anyways,” Yeosang sat down on the nearest chair. “Having trouble, Yunho?” 

“Well, not really, I’m personally not in trouble, but there are other people that would be once you tell me what I’m going to ask,” Yunho said. 

“Then ask.” 

“Madame Seo. Do you know her?” Yunho noticed Yeosang’s expression stiffen at the question. He said nothing. “Kang Yeosang, I need you to tell me what you know about her, how you know her, all of that.” 

Yeosang broke into a small smile. “Jeong Yunho, are you really going to tell me all about that conspiracy theory going all over the internet? That’s old news.” 

“Nothing’s confirmed, nothing’s denied either, I might as well find the truth out for myself,” Yunho was quick to match up to him. “I mean, Mirae-” 

“Ah, Mirae,” Yeosang cut him off. “She knows, huh?” 

“Would you rather she be the one asking you this?” Yunho raised a brow, making Yeosang’s smug expression fall. “I can see the way you look at her, the way you speak to her, you know. It doesn’t take a genius to figure that out.” 

“Oh, that tactic, huh?” Yeosang chuckled. “Yunho, you’re a new immortal, you haven’t lived as long as I have...yet, to know that this kind of interrogation has already been done to me before. It gets old, if you pardon the pun.” 

“Then tell me what you know about Madame Seo,” Yunho pressed on. “Or how you know her if you do know her.” 

“She’s a hostess,” Yeosang replied. “That’s all she is.” 

“Oh yeah? So she doesn’t own a clothing brand called Montague?” 

“It’s possible the Seo that owns Montague is a different one, you know,” Yeosang pointed out. “But seeing as I can tell you plan on using your Mirae on me again in asking, Madame Seo is a hostess, that just so happens to own a clothing brand.” 

“A high-end clothing brand,” Yunho corrected him. “You must pay her a lot for her to put up that expensive a brand, that coincidentally hardly anyone knows about.” 

“Oh I’m not her only client, and that was years ago, I haven’t been paying for the services of her girls in a while,” Yeosang scoffed. 

“Are any of those girls actresses? Aspiring actresses? Singers?” Yunho asked. 

“You think I was personally asking for their services on me?” Yeosang couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “To answer your question, no I wasn’t, I could tell the difference between a regular worker there and someone who was forced to do all those things.” 

Yunho nodded. “Just when we thought you were coming around, we find out about this. What else do you know about her?” 

Yeosang stared at him. “She was a hostess to me, that’s that. However, she does have a hold on many powerful people in this country.”

“What is she holding over their heads?” 

Yeosang smiled. “Time’s up, I’m afraid, I have a meeting with those businessmen and they would not appreciate being kept waiting.” 

Yunho got up, feeling frustrated. “Alright, fine. But I wonder what hold she has on you,” He eyed the shorter male before leaving. As soon as he stepped out, the crowd of businessmen flocked inside the room. He didn’t want to leave just yet, he knew there were still some things he could find out even without Yeosang telling him. It wouldn’t make sense if Madame Seo knew he was a mutant and was using it against him. Yunho figured that Yeosang didn’t really care if anyone else outside their circle knew as no one would believe them anyway. 

He approached the dark part of the hall and in a second, reappeared in another room in the building. Yeosang’s office. Yunho felt a tinge of relief upon noticing the nameplate on the desk. For an elaborately decorated building, Yeosang’s office was a little less opulent-looking but remained in the art deco style. Yunho figured if there was anything he could find, Yeosang’s

office would be the most likely place. There were plaques on the walls, showing the successes of the Kang Organization, some of them the deals that were made. 

Yunho froze when he heard footsteps heading in the direction of the office. From the silhouette that was shown from the frosted window, it was an office clerk, Yeosang’s executive secretary. He hid on the side of the desk by the window when the secretary opened the door. The footsteps got louder, the clinking of her heels echoing throughout the office. 

“Yes, Mr. Kang, I will be there with your proposal,” She said to someone, opening the drawers on the side nearest to Yunho, making him shift even more to keep himself hidden. “Yes? Oh, the Montague file? It’s just here, Mr. Kang.” He perked up when he heard the name of the brand. Yunho listened carefully. “Montague, Montague, and the Kang Entertainment deal, yes it’s all here, Mr. Kang,” The secretary spoke again, and a shuffling of paper later and the door closed again. 

Yunho got up to his feet, his lips pursed in frustration. He quietly looked into the drawers of Yeosang’s desk until he came across a photo of Mirae, taken at Sky Sushi by possibly one of the event’s photographers. It reminded him of his previous assertion, and at this point he didn’t even care to get jealous. Yunho looked through the rest of his drawers, finding neatly stacked and filed papers. “Where are the Montague and Kang Entertainment files,” He muttered as he looked through the stacks for any indication of at least one of the two before searching the bigger drawers at the bottom and the wooden file cabinet in another part of the room. 

In a sea of black leather folders, Yunho stopped at one of them that had a label “MTG” in gold. He quietly took it out from under the stack and opened it. It was a document detailing his financial stake in Montague. He looked at the date it was all signed. It was in the same year that the actress whose husband left her for Madame Seo was killed. Yunho closed the folder and looked through the files again for any mention of Kang Entertainment. 

Yunho searched another one of the bigger drawers, looking through the labels of the files when he stopped upon seeing a black leather folder labeled “Kang Entertainment.” Before he could open the file, he heard footsteps from the same secretary again. Yunho closed the drawers, one of them closing with a slight thud, that made the secretary walk faster. Taking the files, he went into the dark corner and vanished. 

~ 

Mirae pulled over across the street from Kang Entertainment. She made sure to look a little more presentable, knowing that she was going to do. She wasn’t even sure what she would find in that place, possibly full of celebrities and the people that practically work for them. This was just like Hyuk’s workplace, only she didn’t know anyone, and she wasn’t sure if there were mutants among them either. She ran across the street, past a group of fans that were staring at the doors, possibly to wait for any idols to come out. 

“I’m here and I’m going in,” She said to the communicator to Junhong. 

“Good luck. I put you in their appointment system, they should have your alias written down,” Junhong said before they hung up. 

Figuring out the other entrance, she stepped inside and approached the front desk. “Hello, I’d like to speak to the CEO? I’m Cha Jihyun of Entrepreneur Magazine and I was supposed to interview him today,” She said the rehearsed coverup she had. 

The concierge nodded, looking through a monitor. “Ah yes, Cha Jihyun. The executive offices are through the hall on the left, you can make your way there,” They gestured to the corner. 

“Thank you,” Mirae exhaled in relief as she walked off, eyeing every detail of the place she was in. There were framed photos of their artists and posters of movies and dramas of the actors they had. 

The farther she went into the company, she passed by a training room where three boys seemed to be dancing, music blasting from their speakers, possibly for their comeback. One boy was wearing a bright red, the other one was wearing orange, and the boy in glasses was wearing a vivid purple. In the corner of the practice room, Mirae saw more movie posters that included the names and faces of the victims. “Hello,” Someone said behind her, making her turn around. 

“Oh hello,” Mirae bowed. Four boys dressed in green, pink, a faded blue, and yellow were standing in front of her, all of them holding bubble tea and ice cream. 

“Are you looking for someone?” The boy in yellow and wearing round glasses said. “Are we getting interviewed today?” 

“Oh no, no, I was just passing by. You must be a new group,” Mirae sensed something unusual about them. 

“Yes we are, we just debuted last year,” The boy in the faded blue hoodie with matching jogging pants replied. 

“Ah, I see,” Mirae nodded, unable to shake off the unusual feeling she was getting from all of them, especially the boy wearing pink and the blonde boy wearing green. “Well, good luck in your career, I should be going now,” She stepped back, bowing to greet them one more time before turning around to walk down the hall that led to the CEO’s office. 

“Please interview us next time!” She heard them say from a distance. Mirae could sense the lingering stares from the four boys the more she walked towards the door. 

As she finally stopped in front of the door that had the CEO’s name on it with a woman who was his secretary, seated behind her desk nearby. “Cha Jihyun of Entrepreneur Magazine?” She said. 

“That’s me,” Mirae raised her hand. 

“Please go inside the office, he is currently in a meeting and he’ll be with you shortly,” The woman gestured to the door. Mirae bowed in thanks before entering. 

Once she was inside, she took in her surroundings. The CEO’s office was very spacious, very modern-looking, with three tall shelves of figurines and plaques of the agency’s achievements and sales. Mirae sat down at the very end of the couch, closest to the desk. Everything she would want to know would likely be in that computer, she figured, eyeing the laptop and the monitor on the desk. 

The door opened again, and to her surprise, in came the four boys. “Our CEO said to keep you company,” The boy in yellow spoke as he sat down next to her, while the boy in pink leaned against the desk in front of her. “We’re very close to him, we’re like his sons,” He mused. 

“Oh, I would’ve thought you were all back to practicing or something,” Mirae eyed them. “With what you’re all wearing.” 

“Oh this?” The boy in pink giggled, while the boys in blue and green exchanged knowing looks, a smirk creeping up on the face of the boy wearing green. “We were recording a video for our fans!” 

“Oh, we’ve been very silly, we should introduce ourselves, right?” The boy in yellow glanced at his colleagues, who nodded. “I’m Jungwon.” 

“Sunoo,” said the boy in pink. 

“Jay,” said the boy in green.

“And I’m Sunghoon,” said the boy in blue. 

“For a rookie group, you all certainly don’t act like it,�� Mirae glanced at each of them, acknowledging their introductions. The boys only chuckled in response. 

“You have a very pretty neck,” Jay suddenly said.

“...Thanks,” Mirae stared at him for a moment. “I guess.” 

“I mean it,” Jay sat down on her other side. “A very pretty neck.” 

“Shouldn’t you be flirting with girls your own age? Or younger?” Mirae sensed that Jungwon, Sunghoon, and Sunoo were also looking at her the same way Jay was at that moment. They were looking at her rather … hungrily. 

“Age is but a number, and a state of mind,” Jungwon muttered, also staring at her neck. 

“We can’t date anyway, at least for a few years,” Sunghoon chimed in. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re all acting like vampires,” Mirae watched them closely. 

“It’s also our concept,” Sunoo giggled, Sunghoon smirking from where he stood. 

“Ah,” Mirae remained calm, figuring them out. “It’s funny you should mention my neck because, people from this agency were murdered, with marks on their wrists and necks…” She studied their faces for any change in reaction. If she wasn’t hearing things, she would’ve sworn she heard Jungwon hiss. 

“Their blood must’ve tasted good,” Sunghoon shuddered. 

“In that case, you wouldn’t want mine,” Mirae stood up, understanding completely what she was into. 

That made Jay and Jungwon stand up, the four boys walking up to her. “We won’t know if we don’t try,” Sunghoon reached for her hand and turned it over to look at her wrist. “All that running through your veins, I haven’t had my meal yet.” 

“You probably should,” Mirae snatched her hand back, her eyes widening when their faces had twisted and changed completely. 

Their eyes turned red and fangs grew out from their teeth. “We will,” Sunoo giggled again. 

[sleepychai-fics]

Road to Salvation ~ Chapter 4 - The Proposition

Inform me if I need to put in any warnings for this chapter. ALSO I'd like to apologise for the long break between chapters, life has been hectic and things got out of hand for a bit. Hopefully it wont happen a second time.

Word count: 5,472

Pronouns - Female

ALSO SHOUTOUT TO @doughnuts-5ever​ FOR BETA READING THIS ENTIRE SERIES. I KEEP FORGETTING TO ADD THIS SHOUTOUT CAUSE I POST THESE CHAPTERS AT 1 AM LIKE THE NIGHT OWL I AM. SO BIIIIIIG THANK YOU TO YOU BB, YOU MAKE THIS STORY MAKE SENSE WHEN MY BRAIN DONT

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters in BNHA. However, there are many OC’s in this fic that I’ve created. These OC’s belong to me and are specifically created for this fic. 

However, Hajime Shinsou is NOT my oc. He is an oc created by Keiid, who used to have tumblr but now uses twitter. Please keep that in mind.

Feedback is appreciated!

Want to be part of the taglist? DM me or reply to this chapter!

“What do we know about this girl?” Tsukauchi flips open the folder full of papers in front of him, eyes darting across the pages briefly taking in the information.

Aizawa sighs, lifting up one of the papers and reading off of it. “She’s been seen as a vigilante on the streets for a little over two years now. How long she’s been on the streets in general is unknown. Her quirk involves moving objects through shadows. It’s believed she has other accomplices, however we don’t know for sure.” He ends by tossing the paper back in the folder.

Tsukauchi hums. “Is she the one we’re looking for?”

“I hope so.”

“What about her suspected accomplices?”

Aizawa takes out another piece of paper from a different folder. “Our informant tells us she lives with many other people on the streets. Rumors say that the group is the line between villains and heroes.” His tired eyes look over to the police officer. “We’re not sure how to interpret that.”

A groan leaves the officers lips as he leans back in his chair. “We’ll interview her once she wakes up. We can negotiate living conditions with her. Offer her the placement and training in exchange for her compliance and any requests she may ask.”

With a yawn, Aizawa nods. “What do you suspect she’ll ask for?”

“Not too sure. Despite what we have on her, she’s still unknown to us. Our data banks have nothing on her. It’d be your job to get to know her.”

Aizawa groans. “I know that. But I think Hisashi is more up to that task.”

Tsukauchi smiles. “I appreciate you doing this.”

“It was part of the deal. Whisper held up her end, now I need to hold up mine.”

“It’s a big task to hold up.”

Aizawa hums in agreeance. “That’s why I offered a trial period. If she proves worthy to be a hero, then I’ll make it a permanent deal.”

“Whisper has offered to ensure a steady supply of information on other underground personnel if you were to make it a full time deal.” Tsukauchi reminds him.

Aizawa nods. “Are you sure-”

An alarm blares loudly through the speakers, interrupting the two men and instantly raising them on high alert. The conference room doors slam open, a security guard standing at the entrance.

“I apologise for the interruption but she’s escaped her room!”

Aizawa stands up from his chair, almost knocking it over. “Do you know where she’s headed?”

“They report she’s just entering the cafeteria, possibly towards Ward E.”

The two men race out the door, following the guard as he races towards your direction.

~*~

Your senses come back slowly. First, it’s touch. Whatever room you’re in, it’s got a cold atmosphere to it. If you were conscious enough, you’d be clutching to your thin jacket. As the thought crosses your mind, you take note of the feeling of the fabric, definitely not the same kind of material as your jacket. But despite its foreignness, it holds you in strange comfort. However, the feeling doesn’t last long as your hearing starts to kick in.

Two voices - one feminine and the other masculine, speaking in a soft tone. Along with the voices, you hear a steady beeping sound. A heart monitor? You hear it pick up as the rest of your senses come to life. The pungent smell of sanitising chemicals invades your nostrils and has you scrunching your nose in response. One of the voices gasps and speaks to the other. Your eyes are heavy and your body urges you to return to the land of peaceful slumber, but with a strong will, you open your eyelids.

Everything is blurry. Patches of colours hover over your vision before flicking to a mixture of white shades. You hear things shuffle around and clang against metal, only making you work harder at your vision. In an attempt to clear your vision, you rapidly blink your eyes. However, a bright light shines into your eye and forces you to squint. In a burst of panicked adrenaline, you lash out.

From what you can comprehend, you throw out your fist, hitting the figure above you. Ignoring the scream of pain, you jump up out of what you suspect to be a bed and scamper across the floor. You trip into a wall and turn your body around to face the mess you seemed to have caused.

You shake your head and rub at your eyes in another attempt to clear your vision. As it begins to clear, the masculine voice speaks.

“Hey! Let’s calm down. There’s no need to be scared.” You focus on the person closest to you. His hair is a terrible mess of purple. A white coat lays over a blue shirt and brown pants. As your vision clears by the second, you recognise more of his facial features and you can’t help but feel a sense of familiarity. His dark eyes stare at you earnestly, but it’s his eyebags that strike you with an eerie recognition.

You notice his hand cast behind him and you follow it to a woman in similar attire to him, laying on the ground. She has one hand propping her upper body up off the floor, while her other hand covers her lower face, blood seeping in between her fingers.

You return your sight to the man and attempt to speak, however it comes out raspy. After clearing your throat, you try again. “Who are you?”

The doctor responds calmly, making slow movements with his hands as he speaks. “My name is Hajime Shinsou. I know that this seems scary at the moment, but you need to trust that I won’t hurt you.” Shinsou attempts to take a step closer but retracts it as you push your body further against the wall. “You might recognise me, more so my son but let's face it, he’s practically a carbon copy of me.”

Your vision finally starts to clear, enough for you to make out specific features that you’ve definitely seen before. But he’s way too tall from what you can remember. “Why would I recognise you? Your son?”

The slight upturn of his lips doesn’t go unnoticed by you. “A couple days ago, you saved my son from a group of gang members. It was by a karaoke restaurant. He has purple hair, just like me. He even has the same eyebags as me.” As Shinsou goes through his explanation, your memory begins to jog.

“The… the gang. They uhm... they attacked a restaurant and took a kid hostage.” Shinsou nods. “I stopped them and saved the kid.”

“Yes. My son appreciates you. I do too.”

Alarming questions begin to spew in your mind. “How did you know it was me? Where am I? Why am I here?!” Each question grows more desperate as your (e/c) scan the entirety of the room. Thankfully you chose the wall close to the door.

“It’s okay. No one intends to harm you here.”

“Bullshit. Where am I?!” You argue back, glaring at him with irritation.

Shinsou continues to remain calm, despite the growing panic radiating off of you. “You’re in a hospital in northeast Tokyo.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as your eyes widen in shock. “Northeast?!”

With a nod, he responds carefully. “Yes. I understand you may be in shock. But I promise you that I don’t mean you any harm-”

“I want to leave.”

He sighs heavily. “I know, but I’m sorry to say I can’t allow-”

“I want to leave. NOW!” You scream this time, eyes brimming with tears you fight to extinguish. “I can’t be here, I have to leave this place.”

“Why don’t we just sit down and have a calm cha-”

“No! I can’t stay here! I have to leave!” You throw your hands out, intent on using your quirk to push back the doctor. But when that doesn’t work, you falter. “Wha… Why? What happened to my quirk?” A few stray tears slither down your face despite your best efforts. “What did you do to my quirk?!”

“We’ve injected you with quirk suppressants. It was protocol. I’m sorry.” You can hear his genuine apology, but you ignore it through your own raging emotions.

“I’m leaving.”

Hajime nods, knowing there’s nothing else he can do. “I understand. But you have to know I can’t let you go without calling it in.”

You shake your head. “I don’t care.” You leave him no breath to reply, walking towards the door. Before you leave, you snatch a spare white coat from a nearby hook and throw it over yourself.

As the door clicks behind you, you take a moment to assess your surroundings. A window down the hall shows an orange hued sky, although it's difficult to determine whether it’s dusk or dawn. A couple of doctors scatter the large hall, but they’re too busy looking down at clipboards to notice you. You waste no second more before walking down the hall, head tilted down to avoid arousal of your presence.

It’s so foreign, so clean and pristine. Tears are prepared to fall at any moment, but you fight against them. It’s exhausting and horrifying, it’s taking all of you not to bolt out the nearest window.

Every turn you take, every corridor you look down leads you to the belief that you're stuck in a labyrinth. It all looks the same. The room placements, the nurses, the machines littered here and there. Everything is almost the exact same and it scares the living shit out of you.

Finally, after what seems like hours of endless wandering, you come across two double doors. They appear to lead to another part of the hospital. You take a second to glance around you. There’s no other way to go besides through these doors, at least no other way you’ve been able to discover anyway. Without another second to hesitate, you go through the doors.

It’s similar to the place you just came from, except there are fewer private rooms and more public beds. They’re all aligned against the wall and separated by at least a couple of meters. Curtains hang between them, offering visual privacy. More nurses and doctors operate within the space, working with patients and running to various desks.

As you take in the scenery from the doors, you hear a voice call out from your left.

“Hey, are you-?”

You turn to look at the voice, and your heart drops. Realisation dawns on your face the second you notice the security badge. Unfortunately, the guard comes to his own realisation.

The guard opens his mouth wide, probably to yell out, but you don’t give him the chance to. With adrenaline behind your muscles, you push at his chest, forcing him to back into a moving cart. The noise alerts the entire area and within seconds it turns to chaos.

You take off in a sprint down the hall, leaving the sounds of screams and yells behind you. Each turn you come upon, you run to the wall and push yourself off of it, maintaining momentum in your run. As you take another turn, you throw a glance behind you. Security guards are close behind you, as well as a few men dressed in white coats, seemingly doctors aiding in the chase.

An alarm blares loudly throughout the hospital, red lights blinking slowly at every corner. You ignore them all, focused on improvising an escape plan.

As you turn another corner, you're faced with a set of double doors. With no other choice, apart from the army of men behind you, you barge through the doors.

You thank the high being that it's an open spaced cafeteria. More space to run, more visualisation, more shit to throw, and most importantly, fewer hallways to get lost in.

People scream and scatter out of their chairs as you vault over tables. Every chance you get, you flick trays and food behind you in an attempt to slow down those behind you. You make the quick and random decisions to leap over tables to either side of you, making it even harder for the chasers to predict your direction.

However, more men come from the opposite direction and appear a few tables before you. Without thinking, you pick up a tray of food and throw it at them. They throw their arms up to deflect the tray and in turn lose sight of you for just a second.

You take the opportunity to take a sharp turn in the other direction. Unfortunately for you, the only direction left for you to go is through another set of doors that no doubt leads to another maze of hallways.

The second you go through the doors, you duck down, avoiding the few crackling electricity sticks that jab towards you. You slip underneath one, tripping the guy in the process and creating a roadblock of a few seconds.

You bolt to the left, tossing things nearby onto the ground, leaving a maze of objects behind you. Every cart you pass by gets toppled onto the ground and earns you the precious seconds you desire.

You’re so focused on the people around you that you don’t notice thin white cloth wrapping around you. It snaps tight around you before you can even think. Your arms are pinned to your side and your legs are immobilised, causing you to fall flat to the ground.

As soon as you land on the ground, grunting from impact, electricity violently courses throughout you as multiple electrical batons prod at you. You blackout in seconds.

~*~

Your senses return much quicker the second time around. As soon as the bright light enters your eye, you jolt up, scrambling off of the cold metal table.

Pain is the only thing you feel. Pain pumping through your veins and making you shiver from movement. You back yourself against a wall, your hand instinctively curling around your stomach as nausea arises.

Before you are the purple haired Doctor Shinsou and the recognisable dark dressed man with a large scarf hiding his neck. He has a hand on his scarf and knees bent whilst Shinsou has his hands up in a surrendering manner.

“It’s okay. We’re not gonna hurt you.” He says.

You glare at him in disbelief. “Oh really now?” You grimace as you speak, sharp pain erupts from the side of your neck, just below your jaw. When you touch it, you can feel raised, jarred skin.

“You were shocked by 4 electrical batons. That one on your neck is the most severe one because of the skin contact.” Shinsou informs as he watches your hand shake above the wound.

“So much for not harming me.” You scoff.

“Those guys were from a different department.” The unknown man speaks up. “They run on different protocols.”

You spend a few seconds staring at him, watching as he lowers his hands by his side. Recognition prods your mind. “You were the one to capture me.”

The guy breathes in. “For now call me Eraserhead. We’d like for you to join us in the conference room down the hall. We’ll discuss everything there.”

“Why do I get the feeling there’s more than the three of us here?”

Shinsou, having put his hands down to his sides, answers you. “There’s only one more person and he’s waiting at the conference room. No more harm will come to you. Promise.”

You scrutinise his expression. The genuineness of his statement. Despite the short time you’ve talked with him, he seems genuine and reliable. So, on the little info you have, and with the foreign situation you are in, you decide your best bet for now is to trust him.

Shinsou walks out first, gesturing to you with a soft smile. Slowly, you stand up straight and start walking. You suppress the grimace as your leg shudders beneath you, most likely another wound area. With a deep breath, you push through the pain and limp out of the room. Eraserhead follows you closely.

The hallway is quiet, save for a few people here and there whispering to each other. Their eyes drift to you as you walk past them. You can feel their anger towards you and their disgust, you’re thankful the walk through the hallway is a short one.

Shinsou pushes open a door and steps aside to let you in. As soon as you set foot in the room, you analyse the room. It’s completely bare, save for the large oval table and the dozen-plus chairs surrounding it. Seated on one end of the table is a police officer. He has a brown coat thrown over his uniform. A matching brown hat sits on the table in front of him. His black hair is practically melded with his scalp, barely any strands sticking out. Your first impression of him isn’t the greatest and you decide to remain overly cautious.

“Hello.” He greets you as you walk in, almost like he was expecting you at that very second. It unnerves you. He gestures to the chair beside him. “Take a seat.”

You carefully step towards him. “I’d rather stand.” The scratchiness of your voice is still present, but you opt to ignore it.

He nods in understanding. “You can call me Tsukauchi.” You nod once, eyes glaring into his. “I’m sure you have questions.”

“I’m sure you have answers.” You fire back at him with a monotonous voice.

“I do. First I’d like to clear up the situation you're in at the moment. You are in a hospital north-”

“I already know that.” You nod towards Shinsou. “He explained that to me. I’m in northeast Tokyo. I wanna know why I’m here. And how I got here.”

Tsukauchi nods. “We’ve been keeping a close eye on you for a few weeks now. You’re known as the vigilante Shadow, aren't you? You’ve been in and out of activity for years.” Every word that he speaks increases your concern, but you fight to keep your expression neutral. “You’ve taken down thugs and criminals, but you’ve also stolen from civilians off the street.”

“Ok, imma stop you right there. I didn’t just steal from civilians, I also stole from those criminals.”

“You still stole from them.”

“Because I had to.” Your voice grows louder.

“Why?”

“Because-!” You stop yourself. You almost told him about the mall. Taking a deep breath, you start again. “I had to survive.”

It aggravates you the way he nods, as if he understands. “Like I said, we’ve been watching you. We apprehended you because we decided it would be best to approach you.”

“And you didn't try talking first?”

“We tried that. But as you can tell, that didn’t go well.”

Your mouth opens to speak, but you close it, realising he’s right. But another question surges through you. “Ok, then why were an army of police on standby in the area if you just wanted to talk?”

“We predicted your behaviour.” Throughout the entire chat, he’s remained calm and it irritates you to no end.

You scoff and shake your head. “Is there a point to this talk?”

Tsukauchi bends down to pull out a folder. “We believe you have potential.”

Worry sets in. “Potential for what?”

He slides the folder over to you. “Potential to become a hero.”

The room is silent. You stare at him in disbelief, despite your best efforts to keep a neutral face. The silence only lasts a couple of seconds however, as you burst into laughter.

“I’m sorry? Potential to become a hero?! What the actual fuck?! Haha! Weren’t you berating me as a vigilante fucking two minutes ago?” You double both in pain and laughter wheezing and gasping between breaths.

“Yes. Amongst everyone else, I see potential in you.” Tsukauchi waits a few seconds for you to catch your breath. “You’ve shown initiative in criminal activity. You are quick to rush in and protect civilians.”

“That’s because no one else is willing to, and there’s no police around to help them so I choose to step in.”

“Exactly.”

For a few seconds, you’re in deep thought about his words. He’s right. You have shown initiative, but does that really categorise you as a hero? If that's the case, then can’t everyone be a hero?

You look down at the folder on the table. Tentatively, you take a seat next to Tsukauchi, and open the folder.

Concealed inside is a small stack of papers. A small paragraph is printed on each page, addressing you and claiming that you agree to the terms and conditions that follow. On the bottom is a line with your name underneath. As you skin through each page, you come across to a highly detailed table chart.

“By signing these forms, you agree to a temporary deal in which you will live with Eraserhead and follow his rules.” You snap your attention to Tsukauchi, eyes bulging from distress. With a glance towards Eraserhead, who confirms with a nod, you sink further into the seat.

Tsukauchi continues. “You must agree to no vigilante activity whilst in his care. You’ll be monitored every minute of every day as long as you're in his care.”

“That chart in your hands,” Eraserhead speaks up, gesturing to the detailed chart in your hands. You take another look at it, noticing the times lined against each row and the days lined above each column. “It’s a timetable which I’ve set out for you to follow. You do exactly what it says to, and you won’t get charged for any of your vigilante crimes.”

“I’m getting charged?!” You stand up with shock and rage. Tsukauchi and Eraserhead jump to a stand as well. “So you’re saying that I either take up this so-called ‘opportunity’, or I get sent to prison for however long you deem fit? Sounds like a fucking threat if you ask me!”

“Hey, it’s alright. I pro-”

“It’s not alright!” You turn to Shinsou, fighting to keep back the tears building up behind your eyes. “None of this is okay! I’m being stripped of my freedom, all for what? To keep an eye on my behaviour?!” You turn to Tsukauchi, staring him down with a firm expression. “I have responsibilities to uphold.”

“Whatever it is, I’m sure they can be put on hold for a while.” He says.

“They can’t!”

Minutes pass by, the tension in the air running thick. You run your hand through your hair, sighing with frustration and surrender before fixing your posture. “What I’m about to say, does not leave this room.”

“If you agree to the contract-”

You snap your gaze to Eraserhead. “If I agree to this contract I will keep up my end. But you have to keep up yours.”

He stares at you for a few seconds before nodding, allowing you to continue.

Your heart thunders in your chest with nerves and irritation. Tears threaten to fall but you remain stubborn as ever. With a deep breath, you let it out. “There is an abandoned mall on the outskirts of Tokyo. It’s where I and a ton of other homeless people stay. We're like a family. We protect each other and help where necessary. There are some people like me who’ve rescued kids from all sorts of situations, and those kids form a bond with us. A bond that acts like a lifeline. It’s their emotional lifeline.” Without noticing, a tear falls from your eye. After furiously rubbing at your eyes, you continue. “It’s impossible for me to leave them. Not while their emotional stability is still fragile. I’m sure you know enough of psychology to understand that.”

The room is silent as the three males ponder your revelation. They look between each other, wondering what to say, what to do with the new information. Sure, there were rumors of more people like you, but to hear the information come from you was different; it was no longer a rumor.

“This timetable isn’t possible for me to follow. I need some time with the mall. I need to let the kids know that I’m still there for them.”

Tsukauchi looks to Eraserhead. “It’s your call.”

Eraserhead sighs deeply as all eyes turn on him expectantly. “I’ll allow a one hour visit two days a week.”

“Three days.” You interject.

Dark eyes glare at you, but you remain stubborn and strong against his eyes. The sigh he lets go of borders on a growl. “One hour visits, three days a week. With supervision.” He enunciated the last sentence, indicating there would be no objections.

Despite your desire to argue, you know it’ll be useless. So, putting on a tough persona, you pick up the contract folder and practically shove it under his nose. “I want that in writing.”

The man remains still, half-lidded eyes staring at you for what seems like hours. It feels as if he’s stabbing you with just his gaze alone. Finally, he snatches the folder out of your hands and slaps it down on the table. He then takes a nearby pen and begins to furiously write on one of the papers. Once scribbling his signature, he steps back, allowing you to inspect his writing.

You do so, ensuring each word says as it's supposed to. Eraserhead holds out the pen to you. After some hesitance, you take the pen and lean down. The pen hovers over the paper. Your heart beats hard, you can feel it in your throat as if it's ready to spew out at any moment. You take a few steady breaths, your hand shaking the pen slightly. One more deep breath, and you put the pen to the paper.

Each letter written feels wrong, incriminating and abandoning. It feels exactly how you expected it; like your freedom was slipping away with each pen stroke.

As soon as you write the last letter, you stand up, the pen falling from your limp fingers.

Tsukauchi takes the folder and pockets it into his briefcase below the table. “I believe Dr. Shinsou wanted to do a last check-up. He’ll also be the one that will be attaching the ankle monitor. We’ll be using that to monitor you.”

You simply nod, the will to argue no longer there. You follow Shinsou out the room, head tilted down in both shame and surrender.

Your mind is numb, barely registering anything said to you. As Shinsou gestures for you to sit atop the examination table, you take notice of the nurse. The same nurse as before, this time with a bandage across her nose.

She appears reluctant to be near you, you can see her hands shake as they reach out to apply the blood pressure strap.

“I’m sorry.” Your apology is quiet but startles the woman. However, a smile eases on her face.

“It’s ok.” She replies, voice slightly hitched due to the bandage. “I would’ve done the same thing.”

The conversation is left at that. Shinsou and the nurse, who said her name was Sakura, do the basics, heart, lungs, eyes, ears. After completing them, Shinsou appears with a steel bracelet with a small box attached to it.

He doesn't get the chance to speak as you lift up your ankle. He peers into your eyes, taking note of the dread-filled gaze that appears to stare at nothing. With a sigh, he carefully clips the bracelet into place.

“Is it too tight?” His only response is a light shrug. He can’t help but feel bad for you. He proceeds to press and hold a button. The device turns on at the action, a small light on the box flicks on as two small beeps sound. As soon as that's done, Shinsou guides you out of the room.

When you step out, you are approached by a long blonde haired male, a gloved hand sticking out towards you.

“Hello listener!” His voice is loud and overly excited, but you barely pay any mind to him. He observes your mute behaviour and turns to his husband. Eraserhead simply shakes his head.

“This is my husband Yamada. You can call me Aizawa.” He says as he walks away.

You follow him without delay, mindlessly pocketing the info.

The drive is silent and tense. You stare out the window the entire trip, watching as the environment passes by. There’s no thoughts running through your mind, nothing to think about but the dread and disappointment of letting the mall down.

You barely register you’ve stopped, so induced in your negativity that you don’t notice that Aizawa is before you, waiting for you to step out.

The house is two stories tall, a small wood fence outlining the property. It’s a fairly modern-looking house, a front porch stretching a metre out the front yard. It’s decently sized, looking to fit a modern family of five.

Entering the house, you register a lounge room and kitchen across from each other from the front house, then straight ahead are stairs leading up to the second floor. Beside that is a hallway which you are told leads to a bathroom and laundry.

Your gaze wanders to the kitchen, where you find a black cat sitting on the bench, staring at you with yellow eyes.

“Oh, that’s Jelly. We have another cat named Muffin, she’s nicer than Jelly, he likes to scratch.” The Yamada explains. His smile drops however as your gaze falls to the floor. “How about I show you to your room?” He gestures upstairs.

You shrug, allowing him to lead you upstairs. He turns down the hall to a room at the end. “Here it is!” He opens the door, his green eyes shining with delight.

You peer into the room, gazing at the layout. A double bed is pressed up against a wall, a small table on each side. A desk lays opposite the bed, small and bare. Sliding doors in the wall indicate a wardrobe. It’s bare of anything and feels completely unnatural to you.

“It used to be a spare room, but now that you’re here it’s all yours! Don’t worry we have another.”

You ignore him and walk into the room, taking a seat on the bed.

“Hey,” His voice is significantly dialled down in both tone and volume as he approaches you. “I know this may seem scary, but we’re here to help you. Aizawa may seem like a blunt and harsh guy, but he’ll come around. Eventually.” He then kneels down before you, a soft smile on his face, his glasses on the tip of his nose. “Technically my name is Aizawa-Yamada but that’s for legal purposes. We’re teachers and figured it’d be easier for the students to separate us. That and Aizawa doesn’t like our relationship to be public information. If you’d like, you can call me by my first name, Hisashi.”

You nod, numbly tucking away the information. You jolt slightly as Hisashi places a hand on your knee.

“Why don’t you get some rest? The drugs from the hospital are probably still in effect.”

With a gentle squeeze, he stands up and exits the room, closing the door behind him. In the end, he was right. You take the time to realise how foggy your mind is and how exhausted your limbs feel.

Having no choice in the matter, you lay down on the bed.

You stare at the ceiling, the silence of the room overcoming your senses. It’s then that everything seems to properly set in your mind. Tears cascade down the side of your face, and you do what you can to silence your sobs.

You told them everything you didn’t want to. Although it gave you something, you still risked the safety of everyone. You may have just caused their demise. All for what? What was the purpose of all this? To become a hero?

Did you want to be a hero? Is it worth all this?

What would everyone think when you visited them? Aizawa would no doubt be supervising you. And if he wasn’t, the device on your ankle would surely broadcast your position.

What else was the device for? Could it hear you? Could it see what you were doing? Could it harm you?

Your mind whirls with unanswered questions, each question that rises allows another tear to fall from your eyes. Sleep comes quickly, haunting you with all of the day's events.

When you wake with a jolt, you wish for it all to be just that. A simple nightmare, something that Dabi could soothe away. But that wish shatters as you look around. The room was too spacious, the view was too pretty, the walls were too new, and the device around your ankle was still annoyingly present.

[hobeemin]

reFlex - part 2

💣 genre: drama, romance, angst, smut, gang au, slow burn

💣 pairing: gang member!jeon jungkook x (f) oc

💣 rating: 18+

💣 warning: language, panic attacks

💣 word Count: 3.1k

💣 inspiration: MB & Reflex Playlist

💣 a/n: A shoutout and tons of love to @yoongs-jeontae​ for beta reading for me. Don’t know what I would do without you 💜😭 I really appreciate what you’ve done! Also a huge, huge thanks to @namluve​ for the banner and dividers!! Its so beautiful!!💜😭

💣< 💣 reFlex M.list 💣 > 💣

Bullets began to spray throughout the bakery. Smashing the glass and ricocheting off the walls. He looked at Olivia, bringing his gun into view and racking the firearm back. 

“Olivia? Olivia?! Can you hear me?”

The male flicked his eyes towards the backseat before driving off. “Is that who I think it is? Jungkook, you’ve really outdone yourself.”

"Less talk, more driving. She’s useless to us dead!"

Olivia opened her eyes, her surroundings became more focused with every blink. The softness from the comforter wrapping her in a foreign bed. It was silent, minus the quiet ticking of a clock on the wall. The bedroom was fairly large, filtered with natural light from the bay windows. Designed in rich earth tones, it made her feel somewhat at ease. 

She removed the covers and got out of the bed. Pain shooting up her body at the sudden movement.  She grabbed her side and groaned, letting out a hiss. Bandages had been placed carefully over her wounds. She gently fell back onto the pillows letting out deep breaths to help soothe the pain.

W-Where am I?

With much more care than before, Olivia slipped out from the bed and brought her feet to the cold floor. She peeked at herself as she passed by a full-length mirror, cringing at her appearance. Face puffy, hair in tangles, dark circles under her eyes, and bruises littered around her body. She'd been undressed and put into a pair of shorts and a sports bra.

Olivia found a hoodie folded on a chair with a pair of shoes. She grabbed the piece of clothing and tossed it on and proceeded to slip on the sneakers. It was strange how everything fit perfectly. She shook her head, trying to stay focused. 

Get it together, Olivia. What happened back at the bakery?

Olivia sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, trying to remember. Nothing made sense, she doesn’t remember how she got here. Her feet padded across the floor towards the door. She couldn’t hear anything on the other side and opened it cautiously. 

Her eyes scanned the hallway curiously. Wherever she was, the place was humongous. She crept down the hall towards the large staircase, careful not to make noise. Her ears picked up the sound of heels, and she hid behind a pillar to avoid being seen. A woman with long, copper-hued locks walked past humming softly to herself. By what Olivia could tell, she wasn't very tall, identical in height, and quite attractive. Once the woman disappeared down the hall and into a room, Olivia set to taking the stairs, being mindful of any noises. 

She checked the steps, being cautious of any creaks, and descended the winding staircase.

She reached the ground level, her ears strained for any more noises. Muffled speech came from the right in what seemed to be a large sitting room. She crept over, keeping concealed behind another pillar and listened. From where she was standing, she could see four men were sitting on dark brown leather couches surrounding an ornate glass coffee table. Much to Olivia’s surprise, she recognized one of the men. He had saved her in the bakery.

What on earth?

The one man she recognized was wiping down an object he was holding in his hands, with a closer look she could see it was a gun. He looked irritated with the man sitting beside him as he spoke, one with blond hair and a light scar running down his right eye.

“This was a bad idea from the start.”

“You undermine my decision, Yoongi?"

“Not at all. I simply believe you went about this the wrong way.”

“I’d have to agree.” Another man, this one’s voice barely above a whisper, spoke up. 

He pushed the ashen locks off his face and stared hard at him. "Jungkook, you know how you can be. We get it, but you didn't bother to tell any of us. You’re lucky Yoongi happened to be tailing her.”

A snort came from the opposite couch. A ball was tossed in the air and caught as another attractive male spoke. Dark brown locks hung lazily over his forehead. He sat up, giving Jungkook a hard look. "Your intentions, while well placed, put her and us in danger."

Yoongi nodded in agreement. "Thank you, Namjoon."

Jungkook huffed, slamming the barrel on the table. "Screw that. If I hadn't acted, who knows what could have happened. You know who that is, huh? I couldn’t let anything happen to her."

“She’s alive. That’s all that matters,” Yoongi mumbled.

The woman from earlier entered the room, perched herself on one the couches, and crossed her arms against her chest. Jungkook acknowledged her with a curt nod.

"What's her status, Lisa?"

"She's stable. Luckily, the bullets only grazed her, or I would have had some serious injuries on my hands. Last time I checked, she was asleep."

A murmur passed through the room as each person sat, mulling over the update.

Jimin smirked, tilting his head towards the door. "You can come out. No use in eavesdropping."

Olivia froze from her position. They knew she's been hiding? With some hesitation, she scurried into the archway, revealing herself from what she thought was a good hiding spot. They all stared back at her with interest. Jimin waved his hand towards her.

“Seems fine to me.”

Lisa sat up and walked towards her. “It’s nice to see you up. Why don’t you sit down?” She attempted to guide her to one of the chairs.

Olivia dodged her touch, stepping to the side. "No, thank you. I'll stand." She wrapped her arms around her body, rubbing her neck gingerly.

Lisa retracted her hand, moving back. "Oh, alright."

Her eyes scanned the room nervously. “Why were you all talking about me? Where am I? What happened? What happened to Kara? The bakery?”

Jimin paused, hand under his chin. “Both are fine. She was a bit shaken.”

Jungkook sighed, putting his gun back together with a click of his tongue. "You're safe, Olivia."

“How do you even know my name?”

“We’ve been watching you for some time now. Since your father’s funeral-,“ Jungkook began.

She put her hand up interrupting his explanation. She scowled. "I don’t see what that has to do with anything. This doesn't make sense."

Yoongi gave the rest of the men a weary look. "Maybe this is too much for her. We should wait-"

Olivia’s face flushed red as she stormed into the room, coming face to face with him. “I want to know why the fuck I’m here! Now!”

Jungkook snarled as he looked at her. “This is the thanks I get for saving your life. Ungrateful brat. Who knew you’d be such a pain in the ass?“

"Excuse me! Just who do you think you're talking to?"

“Our boss’s daughter,” Namjoon quietly answered her rhetorical question.

Olivia looked around wildly. “What?”

Jimin sighed, giving her a hard stare. "You're father, Olivia. His name was Samuel Kang, and he was the leader of the Kumiho Geondal, one of the biggest and influential gangs in Asia."

Silence filled the room. Only the sound of the large grandfather clock ticked in the background. Olivia’s lip turned in a sneer as a harsh laugh spilled out from her mouth.

"You can't be serious? Is this all a joke?”

Silence fills the room.

Again they all sat just watching her slowly unravel. All this did was frustrate her more.

Jungkook sighed, getting up and bridging the gap between them. "You were shot because your father had enemies. They want to get rid of the problem. With you still alive, it means the Kumiho still holds the upper hand.”

Olivia let out a shaky breath. “What?”

Lisa stepped closer trying to coax her. “Olivia, please. You’re going to overexert yourself. You’re not fully healed yet.”

Olivia wobbled on her feet as she grabbed her head. Her skin felt clammy and hot. Why? Olivia felt her vision become blurry, holding her side as her head spins. She shuddered, seeing the stain of red on her hands.

It was surreal. Only a week ago, she was carefree. No knowledge of a father, this life. She’d been happy. Living her dreams.

And the harsh reality hit her immediately.

She collapsed on the spot just as Jungkook caught her. Lisa ran up to her. "The stitches broke open, and she got too overwhelmed. Can you put her back in bed for me? I'll be up there to change the dressing of her wounds."

Jungkook nodded as he picked her up and walked back up to the bedroom. He laid her down with a sigh, standing at the foot of her bed, leaning against the bedpost. A knock on the door pulled his gaze away. Namjoon walked in with a basin filled with cold water and a cloth.

“Here, this will help with her fever.” 

Jungkook nodded in thanks and placed the cloth on her forehead. Namjoon leaned against the wall, watching. "Not what you expected."

“That’s an understatement.”

Namjoon exhaled, scratching the back of his head. "What do you plan to do, Jungkook? She’s your responsibility now. Obviously, she isn’t too happy with the news...and being brought here.”

“I’m aware.”

“It’s not just about you. We need to tread carefully. This could blow up in our faces.”

Jungkook went to speak but stopped as Lisa walked in with her kit. He moved away as she began to stitch Olivia’s wound. “Keep me updated to her status. I’m going out.”

Lisa hummed in reply. “I’ll call you if anything changes.”

“She’s useless to us dead!"

Olivia groaned as she twisted and turned in her sleep murmuring incoherent words. Lisa watched her carefully, making sure she wouldn’t hurt herself in her sleep. She put another cool cloth over her forehead and sat back down. Jungkook leaned in the doorway for a moment.

“How’s she doing?”

Lisa adjusted the IV drip blowing her bangs off her face. “Better. Her fever is down.”

“Good.”

Lisa chuckled, sitting back. "Something on your mind, Jungkook?"

“The guys are still giving me a hard time about this.”

“Well, think about it from their viewpoint. You swoop in rescuing someone, whom we never knew existed until this point in time. I mean, I understand why you did it, but this is irrational, even for you. Now she's injured and most likely to be traumatized. How do you suppose we go about it now?”

He let out a noise of frustration knocking his head back against the wall. “I-I don’t know.”

Lisa shrugged, giving Olivia a glance. "Figure it out. She didn’t ask for this.”

“I know.”

She rose from her seat, offering Jungkook a pat on the shoulder. "Let's give her some space. She should be up in the morning."

Jungkook followed Lisa out, closing the door behind him.

Sunshine crept into the bedroom, stirring her awake. Olivia's eyes fluttered open once more. With some effort, she propped herself on the pillows.

“Morning.”

Olivia gave a startled look as Lisa slipped into the room. “H-Hello.”

“How did you sleep?”

“I guess alright.”

Lisa went to work, checking her vitals. "You don't have to worry, Ms. Roth; I'm not going to hurt you. My name is Lisa Manoban. Do you feel disoriented?”

Olivia shook her head. “No, I feel fine.”

Lisa clicked her tongue, checking her temperature. “Your fever’s down, that’s good. You really need to eat something, though.”

Olivia scoffed. “I’m not-“

Her stomach rumbled, causing her cheeks to dust with pink. Lisa giggled, grabbing a few items from the wardrobe. "Put these on, we're gonna get some breakfast.”

“It was me.”

Olivia stared at Lisa curiously. “You?”

“When you came to the manor, I changed your clothes and cleaned your wounds. None of the guys saw you, I promise.”

She cracked a smile in thanks. That was a relief.

Olivia followed Lisa into a large, bright kitchen filled with the latest appliances. A man with broad shoulders stood behind the counter, murmuring to himself while whisking eggs in a bowl.

"Hey, Jin."

He turned with a smile, still whisking. Black hair tickling the nape of his neck. "Morning, Lisa."

He gave a small bow to Olivia. “Ms. Roth, pleasure to meet you. Kim Seokjin at your service.”

Olivia took a seat next to Lisa at the island countertop. So far it seemed no one would cause her any ill will. If it was one thing she prided herself in, it was her intuition. For now, she’d follow her gut until any red flags appeared.

“Oh, pleased to meet you too.”

Lisa smiled towards Jin. “You would have met him yesterday, but he was away on business.”

Jin chuckled. “I’m sort of the dealbreaker around here.”

“He makes the best omelets too.”

They turned to see Jimin and Yoongi walk in the kitchen, taking seats. Jimin gave Olivia a smile. “We weren’t properly introduced. I’m Park Jimin.”

“This-“ he slapped the blonde male next to him. “Is Min Yoongi, man of few words.”

Yoongi scowled at Jimin but ignored him to nod towards Olivia.

“Nice to officially meet you both.”

She watched them all interact, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the energy in the room. Could these be the same people who were also ruthless gang members? One thought crossed her mind.

“What’s going to happen to Kara? The bakery?”

Everyone stopped speaking at once. Jin let out an airy tut and switched the stove on. “It’s been taken care of. We took the necessary safety precautions so Kara would remain uninvolved. The damages made to the bakery have been covered. She’s been made aware that you are safe.”

Olivia glanced around. Yoongi shrugged. “That’s what Jin does, cleans up our messes.”

She seemed satisfied with the answer and gave a nod, sighing with relief. “If you say it's been taken care of, then I believe you.”

"Jin!” The whine was apparent in Jimin's voice. “Are you almost done?"

The older male groaned, placing the egg mixture into a cast-iron skillet. “Aigoo, why don’t you help instead of complaining.”

He frowned, looking around. "Where's Jungkook and Namjoon?"

Yoongi poured a glass of orange from the pitcher and sipped with a grunt. "Practicing."

Lisa clapped her hands. "Oh, good. We can grab them and I’ll give you a tour of our place.” Olivia ran after her as they toured the large manor, she kept stopping to observe everything. She looked around in awe at the paintings, statues, and interior decorations. Lisa pointed out places around the estate, including the study and gardens.

“D-Did my father live here?”

Lisa paused, waiting for her to catch up. "Sometimes. The manor was a place for us. He kind of took us all under his wing."

She stared off into the distance with a sigh. “Samuel-ssi looked after all of us and made sure we were taken care of. I owe him my life. I wish you had known him, Olivia,” Lisa explained, eyes tearing at the memory.

Olivia was taken back by the comment. Her father meant so much to them. But why did he give her up? Lisa wiped a stray tear away as they walked on. “Come. We’re almost to the gym, where the other boys are.”

“You have an indoor gym?”

"Yeah, and a pool as well!"

Grunts could be heard through the doors just as Lisa pushed them open. The room had many pieces of workout equipment and machines to rival any gym in the city. Olivia was startled. What kind of money do they have?

In the middle of the room was a boxing ring. Namjoon held pads for Jungkook to dodge and punch at. He jabbed with ease. Breathing controlled as he focused on his targets. A light sheen of sweat covering his face. Olivia tried not to stare, but his body was well defined under his workout clothes. She gulped.

“Ninety-nine…one hundred. Break.”

They both moved away, only noticing the girls as they hopped out the ring. Namjoon grinned, letting his dimples form. "Morning, Lisa. Ms. Roth."

Lisa waved. “You’ve been summoned for breakfast, Jin’s orders.”

“Oh, he’s back,” Jungkook mused.

“Let’s go. I miss his cooking,” Namjoon called already out the door.

Jungkook smirked at them, grabbing his towel. "Guess we should go, yeah."

Olivia blushed, peering down. 

Soon they all were sitting around the large dining room table. Jin made quite the spread. He insisted Olivia remained seated while the others helped. Yoongi and Jimin brought out pastries, Lisa followed out with a fruit bowl, Namjoon set the table, and Jungkook brought out the juice and milk. It was easy to see how they work well as a team.

“Anyone seen my banana milk?”

His brows scrunched in annoyance. Olivia covered a snort as they all sat down. Jin served the omelets with a smile. “Eat up. There’s plenty.”

“Thank you.”

Namjoon sipped his coffee, observing Olivia across the table. "Have you met everyone, Ms. Roth?"

“Almost,” she replied.

He pointed to himself. “Kim Namjoon.” Then poked Jungkook. “This is Jeon Jungkook.”

Olivia glanced around the room with a nod. "Just call me Olivia, please. We don't need to be so formal."

Lisa patted her hand gently. "Olivia, it is."

They continued eating. Chatting about mundane things. Olivia felt at ease for the first time; however, something still weighed heavily on her mind. Her father had been a force to reckon with in the crime world. Where did that leave her? She’d have a target on her back for as long as she breathed. It wouldn’t be fair to Kara. They worked hard at their business. She’d never be able to go back to that life.

Everyone started to clean up until Olivia stood up. She took a deep breath, resolving her mind.

“I can’t begin to thank you all for what you’ve done, for saving me back at the bakery and taking care of my wounds. I don’t know how I’m going to repay you, but I promise I will.” Her gaze directed on Jungkook as they made eye contact. He cleared his throat looking away.

Namjoon started to speak, but she silenced him with her eyes. "Please, let me finish. I understand you all worked closely with my father, and he meant a lot to you all. I didn’t even know I had parents, let alone a father until a week ago.”

She placed her palms down on the table. “But I want to know about him, about everything. Can you help me?”

Jimin stood up with a nod. "You're the rightful head of our clan. It's only right we teach you the Kumiho way."

They all stood up, giving her a bow. Jungkook smirked. "Alright, let’s begin.”

[gayforheadphonesgirl]

Falling Back Into You (Chapter 1) - Alex Morgan imagine

(A/N): Here’s a multi-chaptered SingleMom! Alex Morgan imagine nobody asked for but I’m going to give you guys anyway lmao. Alex and r are former teammates on the USWNT and haven’t seen each other in years. Shoutout to the cracl heads who are helping me name OCs.

It’s been about 10 years since (Y/N) had seen most of her US national team teammates, with her retirement and social work keeping her away.

So she had absolutely no idea that the kid who caught her eye in a soccer camp she helped with was more connected to her than she thought.

The seven-year-old girl peaked (Y/N)’s attention with her prowess on the field, but what really intrigued her was the kid’s smile that (Y/N) swore she already saw somewhere else.

The girl continued to practice after camp finished, running up and down the field with her small legs handling the ball.

Drawn to the child’s motivation, (Y/N) approached her.

“Still not tired after training with us I see” (Y/N) said, looking affectionately at the young player.

She looked up at (Y/N) and beamed. The older woman was caught off-guard with her eyes, a mix of green and blue that seem so familiar.

“Nope. I want to be the best in the world, like my momma!” The kid said, showing off some dribbling skills to the former USWNT star.

(Y/N) chuckled.

“Yeah? You’re mom was a soccer player too?” (Y/N) said, motioning for the girl to pass the ball to her.

“Yup! The absolute best!” The girl replied. The pair continued passing the ball back and forth.

“Well, I’d sure like to meet her. I want to learn and play with the absolute best in soccer” (Y/N) said, grinning at the kid.

The girl seemed keen to the idea, with her face lighting up at the mention of playing with her mother.

“That would be awesome. She’d kick your ass” The girl replied. (Y/N) giggles at the small girl using the word ass.

She was just about to reply when a new but familiar voice called from behind them.

“Mia! There you are. I’ve been waiting forever for you” The voice called.

“Mom!” Mia said, immediately leaving the ball and running towards her mother.

(Y/N) turned around to look at the pair and immediately, her breath caught in her throat.

“You should’ve been finished 30 minutes ago. Now look, you’ve forced one of your coaches to stay with you-” The mother started to say but stopped dead in her tracks when she looked up.

“(Y/N)?” She said, eyes widening.

“Alex?” (Y/N) replied.

Both women squealed in delight as Alex put Mia down to crash into a hug with (Y/N).

“Wow. It’s so good to see you” (Y/N) said, still hanging on tightly to the former Orlando star.

They pulled back and grinned at each other.

“How long has it been?” Alex said, smiling at her old friend. Mia looked curiously at the two adults in her midst.

“Too long, Alex” (Y/N) said with an elated look on her face.

“Wow, Mia. You were right when you said that your mom was the best in teh world” (Y/N) said, crouching down and ruffling the girl’s hair.

Mia giggled and playfully swatted (Y/N)’s hand.

“She said that?” Alex said, smiling down at her daughter.

“Yeah. But she definitely won’t kick my ass. As far as I can remember, I beat her during scrimmages in practice before” (Y/N) said, standing up and nudging Alex’s shoulder.

“Shut up” Alex replied with faux annoyance. Mia seemed to connect the dots and looked alternately at the two ladies.

“You played together?” Mia said, looking at her mother curiously.

“Yep. Won two World Cups together too” (Y/N) replied, grinning proudly at Alex.

The forward’s heart warmed at the flashback of memories with (Y/N) coming back to her.

“Too bad she had to retire before the 2023 Cup, then we could’ve won three together” Alex said smugly. (Y/N) scoffed.

“Well, my body wasn’t that strong. I’m a bit older than you remember” (Y/N) retorted playfully.

“Grandma” Alex said. (Y/N) gaped at her in disbelief.

“Ooooh burn” Mia said, laughing at the antics of her mom and friend. (Y/N) grinned at the kid.

“Feisty. Just like your mom I see” (Y/N) said.

Mia smiled and nodded her head. (Y/N) laughed and looked at Alex again.

“Wanna go get some ice cream? It’s on me. This kid killed it today” (Y/N) said. Mia perked up at the mention of ice cream and looked pleadingly at her mother.

Alex pretended to think about it but the smile that cracked her face moments after told Mia and (Y/N) she was gonna give in.

“Fine” Alex said. Mia squealed in delight and started running off the pitch.

“She’s quite something” (Y/N) commented, walking leisurely with Alex.

“She is” Alex replied shyly, suddenly conscious that she’s alone with (Y/N).

“Just like you” (Y/N) said, grinning at her former teammate. Alex playfully swats (Y/N) on the arm.

(Y/N) laughs and the pair continue walking in comfortable silence. Mia was already in the exit by the time the two adults caught up to her.

“You sure you have time to take us to ice cream?” Alex said, as the trio walked towards an ice cream parlor (Y/N) knew was near the field.

“Yeah, of course. No biggie” (Y/N) said, shrugging her shoulders.

They had arrived at the ice cream parlor not long after, got their fill and walked around the nearby park.

Mia headed off by herself in a playground in the park with a few other kids while Alex and (Y/N) kept an eye on her in a bench.

(Y/N) took a deep breath and finally asked Alex a question that’s been nagging at the back of her mind all day.

“So, how’s Servando?” (Y/N) said, taking a cautious spoonful of her vanilla ice cream.

Alex tensed up a bit at the mention of her ex-husband. She sighed but nevertheless turned to face (Y/N).

“You really haven’t been keeping in touch, no?” Alex said, smiling at her old friend. (Y/N) almost looked guilty.

“Sorry…” (Y/N) said, looking down at her half eaten ice cream.

“Don’t be. But…. he’s been gone for a while now. He didn’t want kids and when I suddenly had Mia, he didn’t want to stick around anymore” Alex said, shrugging her shoulders.

(Y/N) looked at her in disbelief and felt a feeling strongly reminding her of anger and hate bubble up inside.

“What? Why?” (Y/N) said, wondering how anyone would willingly choose to leave Alex and such a sweet kid like Mia.

“He just didn’t want us anymore. It’s fine though, I mean I guess I really didn’t want him anymore either” Alex said nonchalantly.

But (Y/N) was still fuming, taking angry spoonfuls of her ice cream. Alex chuckled at the sight of her friend.

“What are you laughing at? He’s a total dickwad!” (Y/N) said loudly, flailing her ice cream-occupied hands in the air.

“Dickwad” The pair heard Mia say. The adults whipped their head to look at the seven-year-old who was apparently already next to them.

“Nope. We don’t say that word” (Y/N) said, starting to panic at having accidentally taught a kid a swear ward.

Alex laughed at (Y/N)’s efforts to explain to Mia how she shouldn’t be saying that word.

“That’s…. that’s a really bad word and I’m really sorry I said that. Auntie (Y/N)’s going to be in trouble for that later. Don’t imitate it” (Y/N) rambled on.

Mia looked confused at the older woman’s rambling but simply nodded her head.

(Y/N) looked helplessly at Alex and mouthed ‘sorry’ but the latter just chuckled and waved her off.

“Your Auntie (Y/N) is a bad role model. Don’t be like her” Alex said playfully taking her daughter into her lap.

“Hey! I’m not that bad!” (Y/N) said defensively. Alex rolled her eyes and simply laughed.

The trio continued their day talking about soccer tactics, with Mia wanting to learn from her mother’s former teammate.

“Someday, I wanna be a World Cup champion like you two!” Mia said, skipping happily as they walked out of the park.

“I’m sure you’ll get to do that, baby girl. After all, it runs in the genes” (Y/N) said, ruffling her hair again.

“Where will you be going home to?” Alex said, continuing to walk with (Y/N) – Mia a few steps ahead of them.

“I have a loft a few blocks down on 26th street. Just moved in last month, actually” (Y/N) replied.

“Wow. So I’ll be definitely seeing more of you very soon?” Alex said, smiling.

“If you want to, yeah” (Y/N) replied, grinning back.

The trio came to an intersection where (Y/N)’s house was off to the left while Alex and Mia should head right.

“This is you right?” Alex said, pointing to the left. (Y/N) hummed in response.

“Yeah, but I’d like to walk you two home if you let me” (Y/N) said, shoving her hands into her pockets, moving around nervously.

Alex blushed at how cute and shy (Y/N) was being.

“We’d like that” Alex said as Mia nodded in approval. (Y/N) grinned and walked to the right with the pair.

Alex and (Y/N) continued catching up the rest of the way, with Alex finding out how (Y/N) has been spending her retirement.

“I’ve been pretty busy with social work still, we sometimes go to local communities and start a soccer club there. You know, just to get kids into the right kind of hobbies,” (Y/N) said. Alex nodded and was a bit impressed at how passionate (Y/N) was with what she was doing.

“I also have a small athleisure wear I manage. It’s not much but it pays the bills” (Y/N) said, chuckling.

“You’ve been pretty busy huh? Well, Mia is my whole life now. Although I do coach a university women’s soccer team” Alex said. (Y/N) beamed at the mention of the sport.

“Still can’t leave it, huh?” (Y/N) said, grinning. Alex nods.

“It’s the love of my life” Alex said. (Y/N) hums in approval.

They finally make it to Alex’s house after a few minutes and (Y/N) walks them up to the front door.

“Well, this is me. It’s been great seeing you” Alex said, smiling affectionately at (Y/N).

Mia had already opened the door and dashed inside to play with their pet dog Bob.

“Yeah… same here” (Y/N) said, leaning on the door frame as Alex stepped inside.

“I’ll see you soon?” Alex said, with a hopeful glint in her eyes. (Y/N) blushes a shade of pink and nods her head.

“Definitely” She replied. She almost, almost doesn’t notice the subtle lip bite Alex does before smiling back at her.

“Good. Well. Bye” Alex said, motioning to close the door. (Y/N) stood up straight and shoved her hands into her pockets again.

“Bye” She said. Once the door closed, (Y/N) released a breath she didn’t know she was holding in.

Who would’ve thought she would run into the girl she’s been in love with all these years?

To be continued

[vividreminisce]

I Want - Chapter 2

Here’s the second chapter to my series, “I Want”. Thank you so, so much for all of the reception that I received from the first chapter! It makes me very happy to see that people enjoyed it and that there’s still some activity here in Tumblr, haha. I’ll keep posting chapters here, so please stick around!

Also, I have this series finished in ao3, so if you’d like to read all of them in one go, hop on over there and give it a read! I also gave shoutouts to authors, works, and artists that really inspired me for this series after each chapter. I feel like there’s not enough attention/shoutouts to content creators, and when I finished this series, I vowed to do that from so many of them inspiring me and giving all of us gifts for free. Still not sure if I’ll do the same on this platform, but that’s another thought for another time.

Before we continue, this chapter was written and posted before the Shadowbringers artbook, so some of the content on here will be incorrect, if you can find it, haha. Don’t want to spoil it, so I’ll keep it vague and if you can’t find it but are curious, reply to this post or send me a message and I’d love to speak about it :)

Here’s Chapter 1 if you missed it!

If you’d like to see some screenshots of A’viloh, here they are! Excuse the crappiness, I’m not the best with gpose, haha.

Okie dokie, let’s get this show on the road! Below are the tags, chapter summary, and story! Please enjoy :)

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Chapter Summary: Finally arriving at the Crystarium, the Warrior of Darkness prepares to heal his friend, some companions helping him start the process.

Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV

Ship: G’raha Tia/Crystal Exarch x OC

Rating: Mature, SFW

Writing Tags: Some depictions of medical procedures (not medically trained, some factors will be medically incorrect, but it’s all for the story), Slow burn, Angst, Hurt, Healing, Comfort, Acceptance, Fluff.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

“A’viloh… are you absolutely certain…?”

“I will be fine, Alphinaud. My wounds are starting to mend, and I have the energy to keep going.”

Everything that the Warrior of Darkness had instructed had thankfully gone according to plan. Lyna did have soldiers posted at each entrance to the crystal city and the ones at the Amaro launch were overjoyed at seeing the twins descend. Y’shtola and Urianger were quickly taken by Chessamile and the other healers, while Alisaie preferred to take her time walking there. Her brother could only shake his head at how stubborn she was to the very end, but she was quickly carried to an empty bed once the eldest healer saw her limping into the Spagyrics. By the time A’viloh and G’raha had arrived, Lyna was waiting for them, along with the Overseers of the city. The Warrior of Darkness shared a few words with them, telling them that he would bring the Exarch to the Tower and care for him there, and let them know of his progress as time went on. The ride to the Crystarium gave him ample time to check his wounds via healing magic (bless having his soul stones on hand rather than his bag), the damage not being as severe as he originally thought. He was grateful for the hood that obscured his friend’s face, though from their expressions, they knew of their leader’s condition. Still, they would not question the hero’s reasoning, that being on the perks that A’viloh was grateful for.

He followed the Captain up the stairs of the Dossal Gate and she opened the door without another word. They swiftly ascended the stairs to the Ocular and used the key that the Exarch bestowed to Lyna to open the room where A’viloh had the vision of the Exarch’s plans. Surveying the room, he was surprised at seeing a bed in the corner, somehow missing it when he first went in. When Lyna saw the Warrior’s surprised expression, she explained in not so many words that she found it when moving some of the Exarch’s books. Not one to question, he nodded and went to lay his friend on it. The Exarch’s breathing was still rasped, but it was much deeper, relieving the Warrior. Having felt his quick breathing against his back as they flew more than unnerved him, that being enough to realize how close the Exarch was to losing his life. Sharing a look with Lyna, he explained how the Exarch did not want to reveal his face to his people, at least not yet. He further explained that he had asked the Exarch permission to heal him, which was granted to him. A’viloh would have continued were it not for Lyna lifting a hand up to stop him. Her pink eyes never left the Exarch’s hooded face, his breathing almost deafening, despite the sound barely reaching the door.

“You have more than proven yourself to the people of Norvrandt, Warrior. If I may speak on behalf of the people of the Crystarium… do all that you can to make him as hale as he was when he left these walls. Any materials that you need, they will be yours. He is our first priority and always will be.” Despite how clear her words were, her expression said otherwise. She wanted to be strong for the Exarch… for her paternal family member. She needed to be strong. But it was so hard when she saw him in that state. What happened to have left him so weak? What little skin she could see, there was blood, dirty, sand, and wounds. His sandals had come undone, the leather straps on his left arm were slipping off, and whatever God was out there would know if his tunic could be mended. She forced her gaze back to the Warrior, stepping closer to speak for his ears only.

“He trusts you more than anyone else I know. As do I. So please… please see to him. Call me whenever you wish, and I will come running. Ask anything of me, and I will do it. It is the least I…  could do for the one that I see as family. If I can see the smile that he gave your way the first time that he laid eyes on you once more… That will be all that I will ever need in my lifetime.” The Captain finished.

A’viloh didn’t know whether to give Lyna a handkerchief from the tears that spilled at that revelation, or embrace her in reassurance. That look in her eyes told him that she needed none of those and only wanted to say her piece; she wanted to say that to him before he left to rescue the Exarch, and now she could. Schooling back his expression, he nodded and promised what was in his heart and mind. Using the back of a parchment that he found on the floor (which he hoped was to be tossed), he wrote down everything that he needed for the time being, along with what could be brought early in the morning. Lyna assured him that he would have the latter in no more than 2 bells and that she would personally bring the former in less than 1. It was in the middle of the first one that A’viloh had the brilliant idea of trying out the Linkpearl to speak with the male Leveilleur. It thankfully worked and they spoke in length of what had transpired when him and Alisaie arrived.

“I understand that the Exarch trusts you, as do we, my friend, but you shouldn’t heal him on your own… Is there naught that the chirugeons here can do…?”

“From what I can see, we should not worry as much about what can be seen. There are some cuts that I can disinfect and bandage up myself. What I am more worried about is…” A’viloh trailed off. His hand was on G’raha’s ankle, having taken off his sandals as soon as Lyna had left the room. The bed was nothing grand, only fitting one body and having a single sheet and pillow. It had some dust, most likely from the books that Lyna lifted off, but it sufficed for the time being. A’viloh sat at the very edge of the bed, not wanting to take up any more space than necessary. He knew that the leader needed to be in the Tower from how linked they were to one another, but he wasn’t entirely sure how; and he didn’t want to disrupt that flow.

Alphinaud noticed his friend’s silence, understanding his hesitation. That scene was one that everyone wished they could forget. How the Exarch was more than willing to give up his life for the Warrior to be relieved of the Light. How Emet-Selch appeared, and stopped those actions, but at the cost of a bullet to the back. Alphinaud knew of the man’s crystal condition, and he suspected it was the crystal that saved his life. As far as he knew, that bullet was still embedded there…

A’viloh blinked when the Elezen’s quiet question came through the linkpearl. “Do you perchance know how deep the wound is…?” Slowly getting off the bed, his hand came up behind the sleeping miqo’te, pressing down on the cushion as he leaned over to try to get a better look at the wound. A sharp exhale came out, not being able to see much of the wound from the fabric sticking close to the found. Running a hand through his brown hair, he carefully sat back down, hand coming back to rest on his friend’s cold ankle.

“I unfortunately cannot. I am waiting on Lyna to come back with the immediate medical supplies before I undress him. She will be coming any moment, and I do not want to keep you from resting. Before I forget… Alphinaud, please, do not tell anyone of the Exarch’s appearance, nor his name. I am sure that he would like to tell everyone in person, or at least… confront those that have already seen him.”

“Be at ease, my friend. Not a single word will come out of my lips in regards to the Exarch. I will relay our conversation with the rest of the Scions in private. Do tell Chessamile if you are in need of her assistance in getting that bullet out of him, or if not. That knowledge is not just for our relief but for theirs. Some of the healers are already talking amongst themselves and I would not be surprised if they request access into the Tower to tend to their leader.”

The Warrior of Darkness couldn’t help but smile sadly. They truly did love him. How could they not? The Crystal Exarch gave them the home that they needed when the Sin Eaters came to be. The Tower was their refuge, the actual light that they needed. It was the beacon of hope that G’raha Tia had hoped the Tower could become. And become it did.

“I will tell her immediately. Please, rest for now. You have done admirably, and I… I am grateful to all of the Twelve that you are all alive. Talk can happen another day. Please, get comfortable and let the healers do their work.” A’viloh’s eyes softened. Here he was saying that talk should happen another day, getting deja vu. Just as he did with his friend, he let out his gratitude. One last bit should be enough, along with some endearment.

“And… Thank you, Alphy. For all that you have done and for all that I know you will do. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. Have pleasant dreams..” The Leveilleur twin did his best to stifle his gasp but it could still be heard via the linkpearl. The Warrior’s relationship with the twins was a strong one and he knew that they looked up to him immensely, which is why he would always praise the twins, not only because he truly meant it, but also from them deserving to hear it. They did more for him and the Scions than they let on and would only say half of their accomplishments; when he found that out, he made damn sure to take them under his wing. He treated them with the same respect that he gave the other “adults” but also coddled them every now and then. He hoped that his words hit the male twin’s heart just as much as if his sister had told them to him, his smile going soft.

“...A… A good night to you as well, my friend. Do not stay up too late and please… may you also rest. Twelve knows that you need it.” Came Alphinaud’s reply, voice cracking halfway before the connection was broken.

Quick footsteps were heard towards the direction of the Ocular, Lyna pushing the door open with her shoulder. A heavy looking box along with a large bag was obscuring her vision, but she set everything down as if it was only parchment paper. She was breathing heavily through her nose, that being the only indication of the box’s true weight and placed the bag in front of A’viloh. Using a heavy knife, she quickly opened the box and pointed to each item, fumbling with the ones that could not be seen immediately.

“We are in luck, Warrior. The chirurgeons had in hand everything that you listed. In that bag are the ingredients that you requested and here are the tools used for minor surgery. In that box are sterile bandages and rags, while that box contains antiseptics. The smaller bags contain the empty bottles and the like. The more… flammable contents are at the bottom, protected by minor magick. Is there anything else that you require?”

Caramel ears perked up at all of the different goodies that he was brought, his scholar self already formulating the different ways that he could use all of the materials. The Bunsen burner must be at the bottom… Oh, there was the pestle and mortar. It wasn’t until his tail accidentally bumped into the person sleeping next to him that he realized how much he was gawking at everything. Lyna did not interrupt his thoughts, gaze expectant from awaiting more orders. Shaking his head quickly, the Warrior rose and set to sheepishly taking out the contents of the box.

“This should be more than enough for the moment. Thank you, Lyna. I will keep you posted on all of the developments with him. So far, he has been sleeping as well as one could with the wounds that he has. I checked some of them, and the external ones seem to be minor. What he truly needs is rest.” Lyna once again kept her eyes on her sleeping guardian when A’viloh gave his report. Her eyes were clear, but still largely unreadable. After a breath, she nodded.

“I will come back a few bells after the sun rises. You know what line I am on should you need me, correct?”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Good. Before I forget.” Lyna stepped forward, bringing her right hand out and into A’viloh’s view. He blinked a few times when he saw the fist and lifted his head from the box. Slowly, he brought up his palm. A small weight landed on it and when he brought the item into view, he saw that it was a small crystal key. It was the same color as the Ocular’s walls and he made the connection instantly: it was the same key that G’raha had bestowed to Lyna before he left. Small as it was, it was still warm and held more than it showed.

Trust. She was fully trusting him with the contents of the Tower.

“Are you… are you sure in giving this to me…?” A’viloh asked quietly. He knew that he was stepping way over his boundaries. First he was keeping the Exarch away from his people. Next, he was being given the key to answering many of his questions. How much more would he be given…?

“Full sure, Warrior. This key… I believe that he wanted you to have it. I just happen to be the first to reach him,” came Lyna’s stern reply. 

“Remember, I will come late in the morning. Do not hesitate to call me should you need anything else.” And with that, she turned on her heel, quietly closing the door behind her.

Now alone in the room, A’viloh waited until he could no longer hear the Captain’s footsteps. Turning his head to look at the sleeping leader, he lifted his hand from his ankle and inspected his wounds once more. Several cuts were on his legs and arms, still dirty with blood and salt despite the long dip they had in the sea.

‘You can be yourself now.’ A’viloh paused, hand hovering over his pocket. Icy relief flooded into his veins, shuddering from the voice. They were getting stronger, something that he welcomed with open arms. However, their words made them slightly weary. Yes, they were alone, but--

‘She will not come back until morning. Be at ease.’

He trusted him. If Esteem told him it was alright, then it was. His tired shoulders relaxed, swiveling ears slowing down. Yes, yes, it will be alright.

“Let’s get you out of those clothes, shall we…” Standing a bit aways, he dipped his hand into his inner coat pocket and pulled out the soul stone belonging to that of the former Scholars, tucking his dark knight soul stone away. He thanked Fray for giving him strength in transporting the Exarch, as well as for the reassurance. With his magic now heightened, he laid his hands just ilms away from the sleeping Miqo’te, and let his aether do a more thorough inspection. Hands slowly moved to the Exarch’s backside and they stiffened when he felt the corrupted aether. It was undeniable that the bullet belonged to that of the Ascian, the foreign object feeling wrong. He brought his hands back down, sleeves lightly brushing against the Exarch’s red tattered tunic.

‘This bed is not enough. Surely… surely there must be other rooms in the Tower…’

He shoved his hand back into his coat pocket, picking out his summoner soul stone. He would not leave his friend alone, and he knew just the partner that would keep his friend company.

“Come on out, Lizette.” Writing out the necessary spell, his partner in crime appeared from a rainbow of colors. The red carbuncle shook her coat once, getting accustomed to the room around her before finally sitting obediently on her owner’s feet. A’viloh smiled brightly at the first friend that joined him on his long journey all of those years ago. Despite him using Esteem more often these days, it seemed that his other friend did not mind and was still willing to follow him to the ends of the earth. Bending down, he lovingly scratched her ears and then under her chin. She chirruped in glee, tail curling up around her feet.

“Lizette, I need to find a more suitable room for him. Stay at his side and keep him warm, will you? If anything happens, you come straight to me.” He scratched behind her ears again, her chirruping once more in understanding. “Come around his feet, he has a nasty wound on his back.” He picked up his furry friend and placed her close to them as she did as she was told. The Warrior nodded at her and swiftly left the room, making sure to keep the door wide open for Lizette to get out should anything happen. He hoped that nothing would.

Running across the Ocular, he inserted the key into the other door as gently as he could, hearing a faint click. As he pressed against the wooden door, he was quickly met with an immovable wall. He shoved a few more times, finding nothing to pull. Bracing himself against the door, he attempted to transfer some of his aether into the golden opening--nothing. Was he only allowed into that tiny room…?

“You… you said that you wouldn’t deny my request… So… so why…? Why won’t you let me in…?” The Tower was connected to him. He said back on the shores of Kholusia that he would let A’viloh treat him. Why was he being denied? Were those words just for that moment…? A’viloh could no longer see the door in front of him, vision clouded by tears. He wanted to help his friend and give him just as much as what he was given here in the First. He deserved that and more. He needed that and more. Trembling hands fisted against the door and A’viloh put some of his weight on the contraption, forehead thumping lightly on the crystal.

“G’raha Tia… I beseech you… Let me in… That room… It’s too small. Let me find something more suitable for your recovery. I swear to only touch that what is needed and nothing more. Please. Please, please, please… Just let me in--” By some grace of the Twelve did the doors finally open. Or maybe it was because of much A’viloh pleaded. Whatever the case, A’viloh caught himself before he cut open his chin and ran straight inside, only coming back to pull out the key if he needed it.

A room similar to the Ocular laid on the other side, but much larger and with more doors. With pinned back ears, A’viloh looked around, seeing how much larger everything was. The crystal walls were dimmer but did naught to make the room feel smaller. Natural light, or so he thought it could be deemed that, filtered in from a small opening on the ceiling. On his right, a grand pillar tried to hide the humongous golden elevator that led who knows where. On his left, four identical doors called to him. And in front of him was an incredible staircase, the top obscured by shadows. He decided to go clockwise with his investigation, the first door leading into what could only be described as some type of lounging area. The area was mostly barren with the exception of a couch, a few potted plants, and a table with two chairs. The second door led to a bathroom. His eyes flew open at the ginormous pool that took up a third of the room. Closest to the door was a wash basin, toilet, and shower head that any normal person could use. There was barely any personality in that room as well.

The third door took him to what he needed. A room befitting a historian laid inside, a still too large bed some ways in front of him that seemed largely untouched, but the room was filled to the brim with life. Books were stacked as far as a Miqo’te could still reach the top, all various sizes and colors. On the right of the large desk closest to the door were more books, some opened while others carefully stacked. All types of parchment were on the left, some having fallen and laying unceremoniously on the floor. Even the small chair was stacked with books. A’viloh only took note of what was closest to him and sprinted to the last room. He had left his two friends alone for too much time, and counted his blessings at Lizette not scampering in. He only had to peek in to see that it was the kitchen area and promptly closed it, full on running back to the red-haired Miqo’te.

He sighed deeply in relief that finding Lizette right where he left her. Judging from her relaxed position, G’raha’s condition did not change for the worse, but it was not for the better either. With a flick of his wrist, Lizette’s form changed to that of the Titan-egi, the two of them working together to place the Exarch on A’viloh’s back. They took their time with the process, quick pants being their only indication of the Exarch’s pain. He still didn’t wake, no matter how much they jostled him. A’viloh didn’t want to imagine the leader’s pained cries or tears either; he had seen enough of pain for one day. Ordering Titan to stack the bag of ingredients on the large box, it took even longer for A’viloh and Titan to get back to the bedroom A’viloh found from how difficult it was to control Titan’s movements and his own. They had to be gentle with everything they carried, the summoner needing to look down at his feet and state out loud which foot to place over the other. By the time they arrived, the Warrior of Darkness was exhausted mentally.

Placing the Exarch on his side, the Warrior began the painstaking task in removing the ornaments on the tunic along with the clothing itself. He refused to leave his friend with any remnants of the battle that they just won; a Miqo’te’s nose was more potent than a normal nose and he couldn’t count the number of times he wished that someone would remove his battered armor from him when being healed. He didn’t need that reminder of the battles that he could have lost or how much he went through to win them. He always held his tongue, knowing that he should be grateful in receiving any healing at all, but that didn’t mean that anyone else should have to suffer through his same fate.

He found a pair of clean cotton trousers in his bag and slipped them on the Exarch. Changing once more to his scholar form, he summoned Eos for the extra light and helping hand that he knew that he needed. But even then, that wasn’t enough. Looking around the room, he found lamps but no light source to them.

‘He must be able to control the light in here, and only him.’ Rubbing a finger under his chin in thought, he pondered at what else he could use as a light source.

‘Parchment paper is out of the question, I’ll just create an uncontrollable fire… The Bunsen burner would be too dangerous…’

Eos saw how deep in thought her master was in and bobbed around the room here and there to get accustomed to the space, just like how Lizette did. A’viloh’s tired eyes followed his fairy, more furniture coming into view but he did not keep tabs on all that was illuminated.

‘Illuminated…’

Snapping his fingers, Eos quickly came back to him from thinking that he needed her. Muttering an apology, A’viloh placed a hand on his chest as he began to conjure up the image of a warm friend. One that would always create a fiery glow on his tomes when he needed it, and its counterpart cast a gentle hue to help him sleep at night when the day’s events were too distracting in his mind. Within seconds, his Wind-up-Sun appeared, nearly blinding him until he moved it farther up. If he could not turn on a light, then he would just have to create it.

In a matter of minutes, he washed his hands as thoroughly as he could, changed into the cleanest clothes that he could find, and set about extracting the bullet from G’raha’s back. It was at this time that he really inspected his friend’s back, more so how far the crystallization spread to his body. As he thought, his right side was mostly covered, such as his hand, arm, shoulder, and part of his neck. The crystal took over the entire top portion of his back, that being what saved him, and then decided to slow down it’s path on his left side. His left shoulder was starting to get enveloped, judging from how thin the crystal appeared, and stopped on the left side of his neck. Nape and Adam’s apple remain largely untouched, surprising A’viloh with the relief he felt from that. Going back down, the crystal took over his right hip entirely but no more than that. His entire front, at least what he could see in the darkness, remained that of flesh and blood.

He made a point to only pay attention to what was needed. His friend’s body was not a specimen. He was a man that still had a heart beat, still had a conscience, and was his own person. If G’raha wished to show him what he had become, he would accept the decision with open arms. If he did not, A’viloh would accept that too. All that he was, all that he became… it was for him. It was for the Warrior of Darkness that he tried so desperately to bring to the First. It was for that hero that was written in those books and talked about while the Eighth Umbral Calamity was happening around them. It was all for that person. And he would be that person for G’raha. It is the least that he deserved after all of the sacrifices that he made.

Shaking his head, A’viloh knew that precious time was ticking as he let those frivolous thoughts overtake his mind. He knew that it was also from the nerves overtaking him. The large wound on G’raha’s back was horrendous,, cracked crystal surrounding the wound as different hues of red seemed to pulsate underneath. It was G’raha’s aether trying to mend itself and A’viloh imagined that it was the will of the Tower making it so too. Taking a deep breath, he began to make the anesthetic potion to hopefully numb whatever flesh was under the crystal, formulating a plan in his mind on how to extract that bullet.

[ficsandcatsandficsandcats]

FAQ

Do you take requests?

Yes! Happily! Almost 200 of them so far and counting! I have some prompt lists in my masterlist but you don’t have to go off of those alone. I accept other ideas as well whether it be song related, a daydream you really wanna read, etc.

Do you write smut?

Yes! There are some things I don’t feel comfortable writing. For example, teacher/student or other power imbalance pieces aren’t my jam. I will write BDSM or basic Dom/Sub dynamics though! I also write for w/w, m/m, and w/m (or, in a more gender inclusive way of talking, I will put any body and gender identity with any other body and gender identity with equal enthusiasm). Please know that if you’re worried about a kink or an idea being judged that 1. I am not judging you. Even if a thing is totally not my cup of tea, I do not judge it being yours. Also 2. I have anonymous on for a reason so if you’re really worried please know you can always use that and then no one shall know your secrets you dirty, filthy beastie

Do you write Headcanons?

Yes! I’m new to them, but I have a long track record of having opinions and feel confident in my ability to form new ones about a thing you ask

What’s the deal with Valdo Marx?

One day someone on this beautiful internet made a post stating that Robert Sheehan would be the perfect Valdo and they spoke a powerful truth that day. I’ve long held the opinion that Valdo Marx is probably not a raging asshole as Jaskier describes but instead probably just a bit of a cocky guy with a fierce rivalry because bards are #dramatic and now (in great thanks to @heroics-and-heartbreak for their tireless Valdo Marx Support work) he’s become a regular character featured in our fics. 

Who is @heroics-and-heartbreak ?

Joz is my writing partner! This means that they hold my hand through the computer as I cry about my trash fingers making garbage fiction (we all have those days guys) and they also write things with me and help me come up with ideas! They are currently collaborating with me on our Punk!AU and are an a talented writer and artist as well! Check out their work here!

What’s this Punk!AU I keep hearing about? What’s Vicious Mockery?

A lovely reader wrote in and asked me to write a fic featuring a Punk!AU Jaskier. I wrote it up, setting him, Geralt, and Yen in a band called Vicious Mockery, and the rest is history. And by history I mean Joz and I are both of an age (lol) where we grew up with some good ass punk music and are very much about that #aesthetic and they drew the gang and we now have a whole canon for it featuring Reader as a fan who got to tour with them and fell in love with Jaskier and OCs who’ve become very close to our hearts (Aevryn Swift and Sam Pankratz especially though Nic Merigold is worming his way into our hearts more and more each day - but more on him in the future~~~)

Is it ok if I... If it’s not too much trouble... I hope it’s ok if....

Sweetie pie honey bunch cinnamon toast crunch I am so honored that you read my work and then went “I like the order this person puts words in and I want them to put words in an order for me” you are never bothering me and I am always happy to receive your prompts!

What happens if you get a prompt you won’t/can’t write?

I have declined prompts before. For some it’s because of personal reasons related to trigger, for others it’s because I just don’t feel that I’m the right voice for that piece. In the case that this happens, if the prompt requester is anonymous (and so far that’s always been the case I believe), I reply with a succinct explanation along with thanks for the ask and an offer to have them submit something else. I also invite other authors in the fandom to adopt a prompt, which has worked in the past! If someone were to write me off of anonymous I would privately reply to them. I never want anyone to feel shamed or discouraged from reaching out and this is the way I make sure I am taking care of myself as well as my readers

Misc.

I have an About Me page and my inbox is always open if you have other questions. I think this covers some of the basics but please let me know if I’ve missed any. 

I would also like to offer a quick shoutout to @unapologetic-and-aesthetic for the lovely aesthetic collages they’ve made inspired by my fics. They are gorgeous and I am so happy that my words prompted art. It’s genuinely the coolest thing.

[wolgongamer]

A little something I've been working on tonight. It's myself in the style of TSSM (or how id like to see myself as I don't like my body irl)

EDIT : put the finished sketch on here too, didn't want to make a new post for it. I love baggie hoodies and jackets/hoodies that have thumbholes, so kinda had to add that.

For anyone wondering I'm not sure if I'm trans so that's why I look a bit more masculine in this, as like I said, it's how I'd like to see myself. Flat chested, with some muscle but with thick thighs (I will admit I do have thickish thighs and apparently I have a nice arse too according to my GF) so I'm kinda a mix of male and female. Irl I'm about 5'2" (I don't mind being short), really skinny(I'm trying to put on weight so I can turn it into muscle but apparently I have a fast metabolism so it basically feels impossible, also doesn't help that people just go on how they'd love to have my figure and shit, I don't care, if I could swap fucking bodies I would), with small boobs (I'm thankful I have small boobs, but it still bugs me cause I'd rather just fucking not have them).

Rambling aside will probably be posting my Sona/OC (I think that's what this is technically) along side the Sinister Six more often. Why? Cause of @angerydj , I love how his Sinister Six group works being supportive to one another, both mentally and physically, and his art really makes me feel better cause I like to imagine myself being comforted by his interpretation of the Six. So another shoutout to you again, but a more of a thank you for you and your art genuenlly helping a confused person like me out.

I ramble a lot don't I?

As I'm feeling fucking brave, here's a couple of mugshots I took to help me do the drawing of my face. I hate how long my hair is getting and that i cant sort it out, genuenlly tempted to shave it all off that's how much it's bugging me, I had my long hair cut off for a reason.

[space-princess-genesis]

Comfort (Kabal x Genesis (OC))

(Hello wonderful people! Yes! I wrote my first smut piece for Kabal and Genesis. Its filled with angst, smut, and fluff all in one piece! Since it very sinful, its under the cut. Also, I actually have no hard feelings toward Kano in any way, but I know most of y’all aren’t too keen with him so he’s a warning. Also, I’m sorry if it’s mediocre, I haven’t wrote anything in a long while, so pardon my rust. Big shoutout to @generalasshattery for some tips and tricks! Love you! Enjoy!)

Pairing: Kabal x Genesis (OC) 

Words: 4,200

Warnings: 18+, slight mentions of rape, angst, fluff. Kano.

Kabal and Genesis had just gotten back to their apartment. The ride back was stone cold silent, so silent a hooksword could cut the tension. The two were frustrated - well, Kabal was more frustrated than her. Kabal thought it would be a good idea to take his Space Princess girlfriend as he likes to call her sometimes to the headquarters of the Black Dragon for a short visit. Kabal wanted Genesis to make some friends because she had started to feel a little lonely because of his crazy work schedule - with him being a mercenary and all. He couldn’t be there for her the majority of the week, minus the late evenings and weekends. Genesis had a small number of friends but they were either too far away, or too busy. Whenever she would make plans with a friend who was close by, they would always cancel plans last minute, leaving Genesis alone with nothing to do, waiting for Kabal to come home wondering why Genesis is still home? Shouldn’t she be with a friend of hers right now? Kabal didn’t understand why someone would cancel on her. C’mon, she’s a SPACE PRINCESS for pete’s sake! Who wouldn’t want to ravel in that friendship? He loved her dearly, and does his best to help her.

~

_“Are you sure you want me to come?” Genesis was worried because many of Kabal’s “friends” in the past had felt the need to try and put her hands on her (with Kabal gladly sticking a hooksword up the ass). “Hey, promise you’ll be right next to me at all times, unless I have small important shit to do… I’ll make sure no one, and I mean NO ONE, will lay their hands upon you.” Kabal insisted this. Genesis smiled at her loving boyfriend she floats up to him and pecked him on the lips.“Okay, I promise..” _

~

_The day had went by wonderfully. Genesis had already gotten a couple of numbers from some Black Dragon ladies (and a few Black Dragon men) which in return, made Kabal happy. He’s so ecstatic Genesis is going to get out and about and not be alone.“See! I told you should come! Look at you! You lil’ social butterfly.” Kabal says as he grabs her shoulders and smiles at her. “You were right. I feel good, I feel really good!” Kabal had started to feel a warmth in his heart. This is the first time in a short while that Genesis has talked with new people, let alone be it Kabal’s cohorts. Genesis is really giddy inside and is excited to hang out with some new friends. Kabal checks the time and realizes he has to do a quick meeting with some rookies about a small mission coming up. “Shit. I need to go to a meeting. Come on.” Hand in hand, the two walk over to the meeting room; luckily there’s a bench next to the door. “Hey babe, this will be a quick one. Wait here for me okay?” Kabal gestures to the bench and is halfway through the door. “Okay. I’ll be here.” Genesis goes to sit down and waves to Kabal, in which he waves back and closes the door. _

~

Half an hour had passed and Genesis is playing on her phone. Mostly scrolling through the Twitter beef page and scrolling what photo of Kabal and her should she should post, just minding her own business. However, that peace is short-lived, as the last person she expects is walking down the hallway, and towards her as well. He stands right in front of her, and that thick Australian mouth blabbers:“Ello’ love, long time no see?” Kano. Out of all the people in the world. KANO. “Oh hi Kano…it has been a long time has is?” she says uncomfortably. It really hasn’t been a long time. The last time Genesis has seen Kano was the previous month in which Kabal had taken Genesis to a party which Kano was at and had gotten his drunken ass in the pool. And nobody knew how. “Where’s ya knight in shining armor love?” Kano had always thought Genesis was a treasure to have and own; however, when he would see her, he would always want to approach her. Much to his dismay, Kano would always be met with a soul-staring, cock-blocking, Kabal, but here, in this very moment, Kabal was nowhere to be seen. He had gotten his chance.“In a meeting in that room…” She gestures over to the door where Kabal is having his meeting. Kano looks back a the door. Kabal wasn’t going to walk out anytime soon. “Well then, this will be our time to…chat up yea?” With Kano being this suggestive, Genesis had gotten totally uncomfortable. This is Kano, one of the most vile people in all of Earthrealm. She didn’t want to be around him at all, unless Kabal was with her. Unfortunately, Kabal was still in his meeting.  So, Genesis had come up with an excuse so she could get out of this situation.“Uh yeah. Hey, so, I need to go so I’ll catch up with you later. ‘kay? Bye!” As Genesis got up as fast as she could, Kano grabs her wrist and pulls her into his embrace. Her worst fear had finally come to life. Kano had put his hands around her, and Kabal was nowhere to been seen. He reeked of alcohol, specifically beer, and it was bothering Genesis. Not knowing what to do in this moment, Genesis fears for her life, what was he going to do to her? She didn’t want to think the worst possible outcome, but she wished Kabal would be here right this instance. “But we were just getting started love! So, would you like a taste of Australia’s best saus -“ Kano is interrupted with a hand grabbing his ear. It was Kabal. What a relief. “Excuse me.” Kabal drags Kano by the ear into an empty room. Let’s say that there was a lot of punches heard, some metal breaking and a possible hooksword up the ass. Kabal walks out and grabs her hand. “We are going home, NOW.” The last glimpse Genesis got of Kano was his metal eye busted, bruises all over the body, and a bloodied ass. What would happen now?. All she could do was wait. Wait for a talk. A calm chat? Maybe not. A heated talk? Most defiantly…

~

Kabal’s back is toward Genesis. She couldn’t tell if he was angry at her, or himself. He puts his hands on his hips and sighs. Meanwhile, Genesis is stifling up tears, eventually turning into full-on tears. “How long was he near you?” Kabal says in a low tone. Genesis could tell he was pissed, VERY pissed. “A few minutes. ” Tears were in-between her words. “What did he say to you?” sounding slightly annoyed, he continues to ask questions. “He…was about to say something about his…sausage…” Just saying the word disgusted Genesis. Who in the world calls their dick a sausage? “Shit…how could he…How could I have been so fucking stupid to leave you alone! Especially with Kano running around! I knew he would get the chance to puts his arms around you when I wasn’t around! Arghhh… I’m just so…so…fuck…” Kabal had raised his tone. He sighs and puts a hand to his forehead. He was angry. Angry and frustrated. He promised her that no one would lay their hands on her. He realizes that he broke his promise and now, he’s pissed. Kabal turns around to see Genesis on the ground crying. He cools his temper as he sees her so distressed. Why was she crying? He wasn’t pissed off with her, his was pissed off of himself. She didn’t do anything that would make him angry at her. It was the thought of Kano around her. What if Kabal hadn’t walked into the situation in time? What if Kano had gone further? What if he had raped her? Kabal didn’t want to think about these issues, but he couldn’t push them away. These thoughts are then suddenly pushed away as he immediately fall to the ground and embraces her. “I’m so sorry Gen… I should have let you in the room with me…I didn’t know what I was thinking… I’m sorry…I’m fucking sorry.” He keeps apologizing hoping for her to accept it. She reaches her arms around Kabal’s waist and rests her hands on his back. He pets her purple gradient hair and rubs her back. The embrace goes on for a few minutes. He wanted to stay like this forever, with Genesis in his loving arms. But, he suddenly feels an urge within him. Something is crawling deep within his body - an animal, and an angry one. And it’s wanting to release. With his head in the crook of her neck, he starts to kiss her up her neck, to her cheek, and finally on her lips. The kiss starts out sweet but eventually turns deep, and then deeper. Kabal eventually breaks off and carries Genesis off into their bedroom.

~

Kabal lays Genesis down on the bed and climbs on top of her and starts to make-out again, but this time, more aggressively. His hands are running up and down her body. Touching and feeling every crevice of her supple body. Surprisingly, Genesis is enjoying this more rough and rowdy Kabal. Usually when the two have sex, it can go two different ways. One way could be cute, soft, and intimate, while the other way could be passionate and downright dirty. But this time, it’s different; Kabal has a wild animal inside of him - an angry, pissed off animal wanting to unleash. But, he just can’t release this animal out on Genesis, he can’t stand to see her clawed out by this animal. However, he really regrets leaving her alone; out in the open air for Kano to sniff her out. He has to make it up to her. He proceeds to quickly remove her shirt and her shorts, leaving her exposed and in a matching lingerie set that Kabal bought for her. He looks at her face, oh that face, makes him so wild. He runs his eyes up and down her body, and bites his lips. Just the look of her so vulnerable makes Kabal’s sex-filled imagination run wild. He dips his head into the valley of her breasts and starts to kiss her chest, with little pecks all around eventually turning rougher. He then reaches around her to unclasp her bra and remove it, which exposes her breasts to him. He massages them before diving in and encasing her left nipple in his mouth while massaging and kneading the neglected one. “Ngh… Kabal…ahh…” She moans softly as Kabal continues to work at her nipple, even biting it a couple of times. He then switches over to the other breast and continues to do what he did to the other one. Her continuous moans and whimpers stir his already throbbing cock. He starts to bite harder and Genesis begins feeling a discomfort at her nipple. “Ahh… Kabal, just… a little too much…ouch…” Genesis whispers out. Kabal began getting a little too rough on her. With the whole situation that happened earlier with Kano and his built up anger, he couldn’t fully control himself. “Sorry Gen, got a little carried away.…” He manages to blurt that out. She smiles at him though, because no matter what he  always listens to her. Even all the other times they have had sex, Genesis would always let Kabal know if he was going too hard. If she told him that he was being too rough, he would start to get a better hold on himself. But right now with this notion to ravage on her, there will probably be no sense of control for Kabal. He leaves her chest area and makes his way up to her neck leaving short, sweet kisses and bites on the way. He begins kissing and biting on her soft, tender, midnight skin. All while also rubbing her other little sweet spot down under. He sucks on that little sweet spot under her ear. Genesis gasps out in pleasure as Kabal continues to suck the skin. “Ah!” She yelps out in pleasure. Kabal grins underneath her and continues sucking and kissing every square inch of her neck, going rough every few suckles and rubbing her clit at the same time. He stops to take a look at what he did to her neck. Gosh his cock is throbbing even more just looking at her. The animal in him it clawing even more. No, he can’t, he needs to control it. Kabal kisses down her body again, but goes down further. Landing a kiss on her stomach, Genesis lets out a short giggle. He needed something to hear that wasn’t so sinful. He takes his hands and spreads Genesis’s legs apart and caresses her inner thighs. The sound of her giggles calms down Kabal’s raging animal a little bit. Hopefully it will say down for just a bit longer. He then kisses her inner thighs leading down to her already soaking wet panty. However, he suddenly is halted by her foot. “You seem a little overdressed for this occasion right?” Genesis says sarcastically. Kabal rolls his eyes and proceeds to remove the upper part of his gear to reveal more of his muscled body which is already beaded with sweat. Which is unusual for him as he doesn’t sweat this much. This damn animal… As he’s about to dip down into her wetness, again, a foot halts him, but this time, at his chest. Genesis, feeling a little cheeky at the moment, glides her foot down slowly to Kabal’s clothed painfully throbbing cock and rubs it. Oh, this riles him up; he lets out a slow grunt and quickly proceeds to take his pants off. He quickly takes off the rest of his clothing, along with his underwear. Then he removes her underwear within lighting speed and throws it God-knows where in the room. His held-back animal is already starting to show. And Genesis has no clue that it’s there, wanting to eat her up.

~

Trying to compose himself again, he takes a deep breath and tries not to rush into eating out Genesis. Instead, he kisses her inner thigh slowly again, but steadily. This time there’s no giggles, just moans. Finally reaching her sensitive spot, Kabal begins to lick up and down her slick opening. With pleasure filling her up, Genesis grips tightly at the sheets. Moans, pants, and growls fill the room as Kabal eats out Genesis. Kabal then inserts his tongue into Genesis’s slick opening. With a sharp gasp, Genesis screams out in pleasure. “Oh gods! Aah..Kabal!”. With his princess moaning his name out so lovely, Kabal grips onto her hips tighter and goes deeper. The feel of Kabal’s tongue feels so good for Genesis. It’s actually one of his favorite things for him to do for her. He loves giving, especially to his princess. Her pants start to quicken as she feels a knot quickly forming in her stomach. Kabal senses this and stops. He kisses up her body quickly and lands on her lips again. God, he couldn’t get enough of those lips. He couldn’t get enough of her… gosh, he couldn’t think of other words to describe her. Perfect, maybe? He positions himself in front of her entrance and slowly sheaths himself in her. It took a lot of holding back not to ram into her. But the animal; oh the animal that’s inside him is still trying to claw its way out. He’s just furious with himself for leaving Genesis alone. Fucking Kano, of course he would. Of fucking course he would. From the point in which he walked out of his meeting and saw Kano’s arms on her, his rage meter had risen to maximum level. Even going savage on Kano’s ass didn’t even cool down his anger. He tries to suppress that recent memory in the back of his head as he starts moving in her. Genesis coos out in pleasure. Just seeing that face of pleasure on her makes further stimulates him. He continues to pump into her, the memories of what had happened earlier crawl faster and faster back into Kabal’s mind, and his thrusts start to become rougher and he goes faster as he loses himself in his thoughts. The sound of skin against skin becomes more prominent. Right now, he needed to release his anger. His thoughts consume him even more as he starts pounding into her. Kano hands around Genesis. Fuck. He wished he’d sliced him in half. Let alone stick it up his ass. If he had seen him do anything else to her. Oh boy. He would’ve gone beast mode on Kano. All the these thoughts fully consume him as he’s continuing to pump into her. He is soon consumed in all these thoughts and doesn’t realize how hard he’s thrusting into her. Now he’s completely lost in his thoughts. The animal that is inside him; the one he tried his hardest to suppress, has been released. Soon enough, he grabs onto her hips and pounds harder and faster. Kabal’s movements become so sloppy and rough, that his rhythm is thrown off-balance. With his mind is so focused on what happened earlier, he could not care less on how he was performing. The worst thing is, he doesn’t realize the sounds of pain coming from Genesis. “Kabal…stop…” Genesis weeps out. He doesn’t stop; he can’t stop. The thoughts of Kano on Genesis continues to enrage him. Situations start to unfurl in his mind. One in which he hadn’t walked out in time, and one where he walks into well… he REALLY didn’t want to think about that one. But the sounds of crying and whimpers seem deaf to him. “Kabal!…Stop!…Please! It hurts!” Genesis cries out. Kabal is snapped back into reality and looks to see Genesis in tears. He immediately stops and removes himself out of her. “Shit…” Kabal mutters under his breath. He’s horrified. He had just hurt his sweetheart in the worst way possible.

~

“Fuck…Gen…I’m sorry…I…I…fuck…” Kabal didn’t know the rights words to say. Sorry wasn’t going cut it. Before he could say anything else, a soft hand reaches up toward his face, and lands on his cheek. “Kabal…calm down…” She whispers softly and looks deep into those chocolate eyes that she loves so much. He looks back into her teary-eyed white pupils which always seemed to always sparkle for him. He nuzzles into the palm of her hand, and grabs it only to remove it from his face. He feels like he doesn’t deserve this empathy. Ashamed of himself, he moves to the edge of the bed. He leans forward with his forehead in the palms of his hands. “I couldn’t control myself Gen… It’s just…seeing you with fucking Kano arms wrapped around you…just fucking made me so…mad…this thing, this animal inside me just was fucking clawing me on the inside…I just lost myself… I’m fucking sorry Gen…”  Kabal didn’t know what else to say. Again, he could only apologize. He screwed up big time. The next thing surprises Kabal, with all her strength that she has left, she hugs him from behind. “It’s okay…” She give Kabal a small peck on his cheek, but that doesn’t seem forgiving for him. “No, it’s not… I hurt you Gen…I can’t forgive myself for that…” Genesis could tell he’s in total distress. He rarely showed vulnerability like this, even in front of her.“I can forgive you… I will always forgive you. No matter what… I love you Kabal.” Kabal turns his head over to look at Genesis. He puts his hand on her cheek and kisses her. The kiss is intimate. More intimate than what had happened a few moments ago. Suddenly, Kabal lifts Genesis bridal style and walks over to the bathroom.

~

He sets her down on the toilet and starts to run a bath for her. He goes over to their small bath bomb basket and picks out her favorite one from Lush: Goddess. The bathtub becomes full and the submerged bath bomb is fizzing. He lifts Genesis from the toilet and sets her down into the warm water. “You sure you don’t wanna come in?” She asks because Kabal is just sitting on the stool next to the bathtub. The stool made for when Kabal didn’t feel like joining Genesis in the bathtub, but still wants to have their usual chats. Kabal takes a moment to think about joining in, because he originally made the bath for her, but with what happened moments ago, he feels the need to join her. Plus, he can’t deny his princess. “Move a little forward ‘kay?” Genesis nudges a little forward so that Kabal can be behind her and hold her from behind.  Kabal steps afoot into the lavender colored water, and sits behind Genesis, with her in between his legs. He snakes his arms around her so that she could lay atop of his chest. He holds her like a porcelain doll. Delicately, as she was about to break.

~

Silence. With the exception of the water droplets leaking from the bath faucet everything is silent. Kabal in the meantime nuzzles his head into the crook of Genesis’s neck. She felt the warm breath from his nose against her skin.  “Genesis��” It was the first time in the night he had used her full name. “Hm?” Probably another apology, but she still listened. “I love you…” He kissed the top of her forehead. “I love you too.” Suddenly, stars appeared on her body - with the occasional shooting star on her. This meant Genesis was in total love. “Hehe, their back…” Kabal said with a slight chuckle. The stars would appear either when the two had finished sex or if Genesis was deep in love. Kabal loved whenever the stars would appear because they could move to his touch. He would always make-up constellations and little shapes, but his favorite thing to do was move them to Genesis’s chest area and make a heart that would sit above her own. Which is what he did in this instance. It was a little awkward because he wasn’t facing her, but he tried his best. When he’s done, Genesis looks down and sees something that resembled a heart. She giggles and says, “Wow! Well done Picasso!”. Kabal almost takes offense to this because he worked hard on that heart. He quickly puts his lips to her neck and makes a fart sound against it. Genesis then lets out this big ole’ giggle which puts a smile on Kabal’s face. “You butt! Oh my gosh!” She continues to laugh and decides to turn around and lay on Kabal chest to chest and do the same thing to him as well, but on his chest. “WHAT THE FUCK THAT FEELS WERID”. Genesis giggles even more as Kabal is shook. They both calm done quickly and look in each eyes again and smile. Genesis lays down on his chest with an ear to his chest so she could hear his heartbeat. It’s beating, steadily - and she smiles. Oh how she loved to hear his heartbeat. Kabal lays his hand on her head and pets her hair. The two remain like this for at least twenty more minutes before Kabal’s fingers started to prune up.

~

After their bath, Kabal suggested to order in some food, with Genesis choosing of course. But Genesis wanted to try something different, so she asked Kabal to surprise her. He ordered some light Italian food from this new place that just opened a bit ago. She’s never had Italian food so se was excited. The two eat, and watch a movie afterwords. It’s another princess movie, Snow White and the Seven Dwarves - what a classic. Genesis really enjoyed it, maybe just a little too much. Now she’s going to be humming “Someday My Prince Will Come” for a week and Kabal will regret ever showing it to her. The two then stumble off to bed, while Kabal carrying her of course. She lays her in bed and turns off the light. The light from the moon is shining through the blinds, leaving a light glow on whatever surface it touches. Genesis quickly falls asleep, but Kabal is still up. He looked down at her. He moved some strands from her face to get a good look at her. Gosh, she’s beautiful. He smiles as he watches her peacefully sleep. He kisses the top of her forehead before going to sleep himself. The last thought before he goes to sleep is how the boss man is probably going to give him a work suspension or something. Like that mattered, more time to spend with Genesis right?

[kvcatnip]

Howling Embers, Ch. 1

I was hesitant to write this character chronologically, but she beckoned me in. This is Eirika Trevelyan, my new OC. I’m starting with waking up through fighting the Pride Demon, because her interactions with the characters show a lot of her personality. So bear with me, as this chapter is longer than I usually write!

Also, shoutout to @veridium-bye and @blarghlearghle for listening to me talk about this problem child for the last week! <3 <3 <3

Her head was pulsing. Headache, yes, but something past that… it felt like magic?

Had she been smited? Eirikia hadn’t ever been smited, but from what she understood it was like putting a wall up between a mage and their magic, emptying them out. This seemed opposite. It felt like her magic was overwhelming her, pushing her insides to make room for itself.

Taking a difficult breath, she realized the rest of her body was only in slightly better shape. With the iron discipline that she had developed after a life spent in the Circle, she slowly opened her eyes. Careful to move her head or body too much, she observed the room around her. It was mostly dark, save a few torches. That didn’t bode well. Squinting, she could make out what seemed to be storage crates. That also didn’t bode well. A small  flare of anxiety made itself known in her stomach.

Eirikia heard a crack and saw a flash of green, and then her hand was on fire. She was a moment too slow in realizing the former had come from her hand and that was causing the fire sensation. She steeled herself, taking a deep breath. She was not the type to freak out as others did. She was careful, calculated, clever. She took sharp breathes and observed whatever was on her.

Observation #1 - it hurt like hell Observation #2 - she was in shackles Observation #3 - it seemed to actually be some form of a magical… slice? Observation #4 - it felt powerful. Besides the power causing the pain, her magic was touching it, trying to feel it. I felt….old.

At that moment, the door opened. Two women stormed in, one coming close to her and drawing a sword. “Tell me why we shouldn’t kill you now?!” She looked blankly at the end of the sword, and then to the other woman who was watching from the side. The woman continued, “The Conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead. Except for you.”

The Conclave! She hadn’t thought about it since she awoke. “What do you mean everyone is dead? How is that possible?”

The woman rushed forward, grabbing her wrist. “Explain this!”

She flicked her eyes to her hand, and then back to the woman. “Actually, I was hoping you could do that for me.”

Her accuser makes something of a snarl in her throat and moves to strike her. The second woman appears suddenly, grabbing the arm of her companion. “We need her, Cassandra!”

Eirikia uses that diversion to speak. “I honestly don’t know what this is, but I would like to find out as well. As for the Conclave,” she pauses to swallow. This still seems unreal, too implausible to imagine. “I wish I could remember what happened. I would tell you honestly if I did. Whomever or  whatever caused this is a threat that needs to be dealt with.”

The other woman frowns at this, and Eirika could see the pain she was trying to cover. Cassandra takes a breath before saying, “Is there nothing at all that you remember? Anything would help us.”

She takes a moment to think. Images come to her, flashes of something, but she isn’t able to discern what exactly that something is. “I remember running, trying to escape, and… a woman? I realize that isn’t much to go on.”

Cassandra turns slightly to address the other woman. “Go to the forward camp, Leliana. I will take her to the rift.” Leliana opens her mouth like she wishes to say something, but stops herself before turning to leave. Turning back to her, Cassandra helps her to her feet. Eirika asks, “Is there anything you know that you can tell me? I feel as confused about all of this as you seem to be.”

“It would be easier to show you. Then I will try to tell you what we know, though it is not much.”

Cassandra leads her outside. The brightness stings, but she adjusts quickly. She lets out a small gasp as she looks up at the sky. There is a massive cyclone of green magic in the air, hovering inside a mass of storm clouds. There are flares and meteors shooting out of the Breach, and even from this distance she can see the explosions they cause in their wake.

“We call it The Breach. It’s a massive rift into the world of demons —“

Eirikia cuts her off quickly, asking, “Are you saying the Breach is a hole in the Veil?”

Cassandra’s mouth is in a tight line as she nods in response. “There are more than one, but this is the largest. It was caused by the explosion at the Conclave.”

Eirikia makes a noise in her throat, then says, “That was more than a simple explosion.”

Her mark flares, bringing her to her knees. Cassandra kneels in front of her and says, “As the Breach expands, your mark grows. We.. we think it’s killing you.”

She raises her eyes from her hand to meet the other woman’s. “What do you mean it’s killing me?” Cassandra’s face is unreadable. “We don’t know where it came from, but the foreign magic is leeching your life. We think it might be the key to stopping the Breach, but we won’t know for sure until we test it.”

“Well then,” she says, rising to her feet, “I suppose we should get going.”

Cassandra releases a tight breath before saying, “Thank you… for being so reasonable despite all this. Truly, amidst this disaster it is a relief.”

Placing a hand carefully on her arm, Cassandra guides her toward their destination. As they pass through the throng of people gathered, it becomes clear they know who Eirikia is. Cassandra notices as well. “They mourn Divine Justinia. They had hoped when she brought their leaders together that there was a chance to have peace. Instead we lost everything.”

Coming to the gate of the town, Cassandra removes her shackles. Eirika nods in thanks, rubbing her wrists. She looks around them to see the dead already being wrapped, soldiers with fear on their face, and a Chantry brother trying to comfort the group. Swallowing hard, she turns her head to the path ahead of her. This wasn’t the time to fall apart.

Once outside the gates, the true chaos becomes visible. Barricades have been erected, soldiers stand ready for a fight that may not come. The Breach is roaring, cracking, and spiting. Truly, it is a terrifying sight. It causes another burst of pain that brings her to her knees. Cassandra helps her stand, as Eirikia clenches her jaw and continues moving forward.

Cassandra steals a glance out of the corner of her eye. Finally she says, “They are saying that you dropped out of a rift and then fell unconscious. They also believe they saw a woman behind you, though no one knows who it was.”

Eirikia knots her brows, thinking. Finally she says, “I.. remember a woman, but not anything about her. It does concern me, however, that they’re saying I fell out of a rift, as that implies I was once inside it.”

“You don’t remember anything about being inside?”

“There was something chasing me, and then the woman. I remember running, but everything turned black. I would assume that is when I fell out of the rift and into unconsciousness.”

Cassandra nods in response, wrapped in her own thoughts. After a moment she says, “Everything else in the valley was destroyed. Including the Temple. You’ll see soon enough, but I thought I should prepare you for what you’ll see.”

Everything else was destroyed. Except for me.

She wasn’t allowed much time to dwell on this, as a projectile from the Breach crashed into the bridge ahead of them. It crumpled onto the frozen river, taking them both down with it. They had barely stood up before a demon begins rising out of the ground. Eirikia is quick to throw a barrier over them both, while Cassandra draws her sword and rushes ahead. Another demon rises out of the ground in front of Eirikia. Her mouth slides into smirk as she raises her hand. A flame manifests in her palm as the demon shrieks into the air. She tosses it into the demon’s face, while her foot moves to create a glyph on the ground before her. The demon panics, clawing at itself to put out the flame. It surges towards her, touching the edge of glyph only to be thrown back several feet. Slowly walking towards it, she readies another ball of flame in her hand. The demon shakes off its confusion, turning its head to shriek at her again. She throws the fireball at its feet, then closes her hand making the flames roar to life, engulfing the demon. It shrieks as it burns. She smiles, watching it char and collapse. She looks up to see Cassandra pludge her sword into the chest of the other demon. It too falls away, as she turns on the mage.

She grits her teeth, pointing her sword at her chest. “You’re a mage?”

Eirikia shrugs. Brushing away the hair that had fallen in her face, she simply says, “I’m surprised you didn’t notice before now.”

Clenching her jaw, the warrior says, “We suspected magic was involved, but we didn’t know you were a mage.”

Eirikia levels her gaze on the other woman before replying. “Magic was involved, yes.” She holds up her hand which flares to life. “Whatever this was supposed to be, I can’t say. I can tell you that the magic is very old and powerful. The fact that is causes me pain should tell you it was not meant to be in my body, and therefore is not mine.”

Cassandra sighs, sheathing her sword. “I suppose you are right. You have been nothing but reasonable and helpful, despite the situation you are in. You agreed to come willingly, and that speaks to your character.”

The mage nods. “Thank you. May we keep going?”

In the end, the distance truly isn’t that far, but the demons continually appearing doubles the time it would normally take them. Cassandra finds Eirikia a staff, making the fighting much easier, though she wishes she had her own.

They finally approach a hill where Cassandra says, “You can hear the fighting. We’re close. Get ready.” Eirikia throws a preemptive barrier over them both, and they race up the path to the hilltop. There are more demons and a small group of what she assumes is their soldiers fighting them. A green, glowing crystal hovers in the sky above the group that causes her mark to react. Cassandra runs forward to join the fighting while Eirikia throws fire from a distance. There’s another mage in the group with demons surrounding him. She focuses on him, raising a wall of fire in front of him, causing him to look around in confusion. Seeing her in the distance, he nods in gratitude, and uses that opportunity to put distance between himself and the throng of demons.

One or two go down when she erects the wall of flames, and the rest she and her fellow mage dispatch quickly. He then runs over to her, grabs her wrist to thrust it into the air. “Close it quickly before more come through!” There’s an intense pulling sensation in her arm, but then the rift seals, snapping the air back into place. She pulls her arm out of his grasp, rubbing it.

“Care to explain what my hand just did to that rift?”

He smirks at her. “The magic that caused the Breach also placed that mark upon your hand. I theorized that perhaps it would also allow you to have some control over the rifts left in the Breach’s wake. It would seem I was correct.”

Cassandra speaks up from behind her. “Then it might also be able to close the Breach itself.”

Nodding, he says, “It is possible. It would seem you hold the key to our salvation.”

Eirikia narrows her eyes at him. “You seem to know a great deal about all this.” Cassandra steps up beside her, taking her hand to investigate it for herself. “Solas is an apostate, and knows much about the Fade.” Satisfied with what she sees, she puts Eirikia’s hand down.

He bristles at this. “Technically all mages are now apostates, but yes. My experience has allowed me to learn a great deal more than any Circle mage.”

From her side, she hears, “Whatever he knows, it kept you alive while you were out cold. Apostate or not, he’s useful.”

A dwarf with a rather large crossbow walks up. Slinging it onto his back, he reaches out a hand for her to shake. “Varric Tethras. Rogue. Story teller. Occasionally unwelcome tag along.” He winks at Cassandra, who scowls at him. Amused, Eirikia responds with, “Pleased to meet you, Varric. Would you happen to be the same Varric Tethras that writes the novels?”

The dwarf lights up at this. “You’ve heard of me?”

She smiles brightly at him and says, “Oh yes. Swords and Shields was vastly popular among the girls in the Circle.”

He seems taken aback and stammers out, “Oh well, those are my worst, but I’ll take that as a compliment.”

The mage speaks up. “If we’re having introductions, my name is Solas.”

She glances at him for a moment before turning to face him. “Solas, it would appear I owe you my thanks. My name is Eirika Trevelyan.”

Cassandra takes in a sharp breath. “You’re a Trevelyan?”

She smiles sweetly at the woman. “I am indeed. I apologize. We did not have a chance to speak about this before.”

Varric laughs and says, “I was going to call you Red, but now I can call you Lady Red and that’s just so much better.”

Solas raises an eyebrow at the trio, and Varric fills him in on her nobility. He also seems surprised, but for different reasons. Turning to Cassandra, he says, “She may be a mage. A noble mage at that, but I doubt any mage was capable of what happened here. I doubt she is the one responsible.”

“I had expected as much, but thank you for confirming it for me. Lady, I apologize for our poor treatment of you.”

Eirikia waves her hand in dismissal. “I would have done the same in your place, Cassandra. I am hardly offended. But let us press on to see about fixing this mess.”

More demons and more fighting find them before long, but having the others with them allows these fights to be quicker. They were finishing what seemed to be the last of the demons for the time being, when Varric asks, “So you’re a Free Marcher. I’m from Kirkwall, myself.”

“I’ve heard stories about the Mage Uprising in Kirkwall. Tell me, was it really as bad as everyone makes it sound?”

“Probably worse.”

“I suppose I should be grateful for having been in a neutral tower. Ostwick’s tower didn’t vote for either side.”

Cassandra asks, “And what is your opinion? Are you partial to a side?”

“I am partial to the side that doesn’t treat mages as less than. Other than that, however, I don’t really care either way.”

At this Solas asks, “So you don’t care if mages are locked away in a tower like prisoners?”

She levels him with her gaze before answering. “As an apostate, I would presume that you have never actually been inside a Circle tower. There are many that consider it a prison, yes. They crave freedom or rebellion, but for most of us it is a haven of knowledge and learning from the outside world.” She waves her hand, gesturing around them. “Out here, we are seen as monsters, forced to shrink or hide away in order to protect ourselves. In the Circle, however, you are free to simply be what you were made to be. Depending on the Circle, often mages that prove to be above reproach are allowed to leave the tower when they wish. But always they return, because there they are safer.”

Turning to look at him, she can see that he has been listening with intent. The clench in his jaw tells her that the opinion he was given was not one he had previously thought possible. Good. Let him chew on that.

Varric, however, asked, “But what about the templars? Most mages I know hate them.”

Eirikia didn’t respond immediately. Templars were a difficult subject, as most of them proved to be mere animals. Finally she said, “Occasionally they are the right tool for the task at hand. More often than not, they stand stoically in rooms and simply watch you. As for the rest..”  she pauses, wanting to let this truly set in. “What happens is what always happens when you teach a group they have power, and the other group is merely weak.”

This seems to give them pause. They walk in silence until the mark flares again. Cassandra says, “Another rift! We must close it!”

Flung into action again, the group charges at the demons. It isn’t long before the rift is closed, and a hesitant man opens the gate ahead of them. “Thank the Maker! They just kept coming!” He ushers them through quickly before closing the gate shut behind them.

Up ahead, Leliana is in what looks to be a very heated discussion with a man from the Chantry. She shakes her head in aggravation, and sees the group approaching. Gesturing to them she says, “Grand Chancellor, this is —“ “I’m aware of who she is, Sister Leliana, and as Grand Chancellor of the Chantry, I order you —“

Cassandra looks ready to rip the man’s throat out when she speaks. “Order me? You have no authority to order me, Chancellor.”

“As we have no Divine to give orders, *someone* must.”

Erikia watches them spat with her arms crossed. Rolling her eyes, she untangles her arms, and steps up to the table. “I would think closing the Breach should be our primary goal here, Chancellor. Lives are lost with inaction.”

He nearly spits as he says, “You *caused* the Breach in the first place!”

Cassandra moves in front of her, protectively, as she says, “I do not believe that, and right now she is our best hope at stopping this.”

The Chancellor shakes his head, sighing. “Your soldiers will die before you can get into the valley, Seeker.”

“Our forces can cause a distraction while we take the path up the mountain. It’s not as direct, but it would feasibly be safer, “Leliana adds.

Eirikia shakes her head. “I will not allow good men and women to die covering me. If we go with soldiers directly into the valley, at least I can help them fight.”

Unable to argue this, the group heads into the valley.

It’s worse this close to the Breach. Bodies are everywhere, charred and black. Groups of soldiers stand ready to attack demons as they appear. There’s another rift near the Temple, and they jump into the fight. Eirika is quick to make sure the soldiers have barriers placed on them. She uses electricity to paralyze the monsters, better allowing the soldiers to go in for the kill. They cheer as the last demon goes down, only for the rift to burst open, steaming onto the ground. “Another wave is coming!” Solas yells to the group. Eirika repeats the process as before, and is pleased to see that none of the soldiers had died on her watch. Solas reminds her to use the mark, shoving her closer to the rift. Holding an unsure hand to the sky, she feels it attach and pull before snapping.

She’s looking at her hand in awe when Solas and Varric join her. “You seem to becoming quite proficient at this,” Solas observes. She scoffs at him. “I hardly do anything other than raise my hand to the sky. That doesn’t require much proficiency.”

Varric laughs and says, “Well, let’s hope your lack of proficiency works on the big one then.”

She’s smiling at him when she hears, “Lady Cassandra! Thank the Maker you were able to close that rift! It’s been difficult on our soldiers to maintain.”

“Do not thank me, Commander, this was her doing.”

Eirikia turned when she was mentioned, smiling at the man. He was tall, broad shouldered, and definitely a templar. He looks uncertainly at her as he says, “Is that true? I hope this means they were right about you. A lot of people have died.”

Internally, she flinches at that. Externally she shows her sorrow, saying, “I hope they’re right too.” The templar seems surprised at this. “Yes well…” Turning back to Cassandra, he adds, “The way ahead is clear. Leliana is joining you there. Maker watch over you all.”

Cassandra turns to Eirikia. “The Temple of Sacred Ashes is up ahead. What’s left of it, anyway.”

As they approach the remains of the Temple, it takes all of her willpower to remain noticeably unaffected. Perhaps later, she could let herself fall apart, but this wasn’t the moment for that. Emotions seemed to something they had an overabundance of, while rational thought seemed in short supply. If they needed her to be made of steel, she would be that.

So for now she glances at the charred bodies crowded outside the Temple. She smells the putridness of it, tucking it away to mourn over when she’s alone. With her head held high, she follows Cassandra into the Temple and sees the Breach up close for the first time. The magic in her hand flares and flicks, responding to the call from the rift. She stands quietly, observing and watching, noting how the mark reacts. She’s deep in thought when Cassandra walks up beside her, “This is your chance. Our chance to try and end this.”

Looking away from the rift to the woman, she says, “I’ll do my best, Cassandra.”

From her other side, Solas speaks. “This rift was the first. If you can close it, it may close the Breach as well.”

She nods. Cassandra turns to give orders to the soldiers and scouts present. As their smaller group makes their way to ground level, a voice echoes around them.  “Now is the hour of our victory. Bring forth the sacrifice.”

Cassandra stiffens and asks, “What are we hearing?”

Eirikia speaks up. “One would presume that is the voice of the person responsible for this mess.” Solas seems surprised, but nods his agreement.

As they approach the stairs leading to the main section of the rubble, giant red protrusions become visible. They’re glowing and giving off a subtle heat. Varric seems anxious and says, “That’s… that’s red lyrium.”

Eirikia whips her head to look at him before looking back at the material. “Varric, isn’t red lyrium what cause Knight-Commander Meredith to go mad?”

Even in Ostwick, they had heard the tales. Notices had been sent across the Free Marches’s Circles to destroy the stuff should it appear. If it was here along with the Breach… she didn’t think this was a coincidence. The Breach might have been the cause and lyrium the effect, at the very least, but definitely not accidental.

His face changes, showing that of a person who had seen too much to not react. “Yeah, it was. Why is it here?”

Solas says, “Magic could have drawn on lyrium beneath the temple, corrupted it…”

Varric interrupts him. “It’s evil. Don’t touch it. Or breathe it. Or really even get near it.”

The voice booms around them again. “Keep the sacrifice still.”

Another voice erupts, “Someone! Help me!” Cassandra gasps, “That’s Divine Justina!” Then Eirika hears her own voice answering, “What’s going on here?”

Cassandra and Eirikia look at each other in surprise. Cassandra says, “That was your voice… she.. she called out to you.”

A vision appears in front of them. The Divine is being held in place by swirls of red energy, matching the glow of the looming being that’s speaking. A vision of herself walks in, asking the question they had heard previously.

The looming figure speaks. “We have an intruder. Kill her.” The Divine looks pleadingly at Eirikia and yells, “Run while you can! Warn them!” There’s a flash and the scene disappears. Cassandra turns on her, “What is this? What did we just see?”

Eirikia is too stunned to say anything. Instead, Solas speaks, “Echoes of what happened here. The Fade bleeds into this place.”

She looks at him, soaking in his words. She was there when the Divine was killed. This implicates her, surely, but she can’t remember anything. Had she been involved in the Divine’s murder, unknowingly? Surely she acted to save the Most Holy. What had happened?

She’s lost in her thoughts. It’s getting more difficult to push it down, waiting until later to deal with. She’s strong, made of steel and fire and angel’s wings, but today she has seen too much. Steel bends, fire wanes, wings burn.

Solas speaks, dragging her out of her self contained misery. “This rift isn’t fully open. We will need to open it completely, and then seal it shut using the mark. This will draw attention from the other side.”

Eirikia breathes out, “Demons. Good. I could use a fight right now.” Cassandra makes a noise of agreement, shouting at the soldiers to ready themselves.

At Cassandra’s signal, Eirika thrusts her hand into the sky. The rift expands, and a massive form appears in front of them.

Pride demon.

She throws a barrier around everyone nearest the beast, and feels Solas throw one around them. He looks at her and says, “If you get a clear opening, use the mark again. It will weaken it’s defenses, making it easier to kill.” She nods. Looking at the demon, she throws a fireball at it’s face as Solas freezes it’s legs. This allows the warriors to get in a few good hits. She fade steps to the opposite side, using the mark to pull at the rift. The demon falls onto a knee. The archers hit it shoulder, head, eyes. More demons come through, but Cassandra appears beside her, and they dispatch them quickly.

And they repeat. Finally the demon stays down, and Eirika throws fire at its feet, pulling to create a full flame while Cassandra goes in for the kill shot in between it’s eyes.

Solas yells, “Now! Close it!” She reaches up, feeling the current wanting to pull her in, and then a thunderous noise sounds around them.

She feels herself falling, hears people cheering, and then… darkness.

[fluffyllamas-23]

Post-plane ride hell

Okaaaaay! I was not planning on writing this until after my semester ends, but then it just kind of...happened? So enjoy, I guess XD

Shoutout to @embriumtea for feeding my addiction to making new OCs and sending me that really wonderful pic of Matteo’s face claim 

(Matteo speaks some Portuguese in it, and my sincerest apologies for any mistakes.  I, unfortunately do not speak the language so I used google translate).

It’s not unusual for Mateo to be exhausted coming off a flight - more often than not, he was.  It’s also not unusual (though it hasn’t happened in a while) for him to step off the plane feeling bleary and headachy and just plain run down.

Declan knows this (of course he knows this, they’ve been dating for three and a half years), and Matteo barely has to say anything for him to know when he’s not feeling well.

The phone call when he stepped off the plane had been brief, but it was long enough for Declan to know that Mateo is coming down with something (he’s not entirely sure Matteo even knows it, though). His accent, though usually almost undetectable, sounded much thicker over the phone, which is always the number one indicator that he’s about to be knocked on his ass by some sort of hell-virus very, very soon.  

The frustration is another huge indicator - Matteo is rarely in a bad mood (that’s Declan’s area of expertise, honestly). He had very angrily told Declan to stop asking if he needed a ride home, and then hung up in annoyance when Declan called him a complete moron (which, in hindsight, was probably not the greatest thing to call his tired and ailing boyfriend).

The way Declan sees it, there’s one of two ways this will play out.  The first is that Matteo will continue to be frustrated and annoyed and will go to bed mad at nothing but his shitty immune system.  The second, which is exactly what Declan hopes will happen, is that he’ll just admit he’s not feeling well, drop the attitude and cuddle with him on the couch.  

A little over half an hour later, the front door opens, and in walks a very rumpled, very tired and very worn out looking Matteo.

He drops his bags on the floor, and Declan has him wrapped up in a hug in an instant.  Matteo visibly deflates and slumps into him, face buried in Declan’s chest.  

“I’m okay.”

“Matty,” Declan says softly, “come on.  I know you.”

“I think I’m getting sick,” he admits in defeat, “I don’t feel very well.”

“Yeah, I could tell.”

Matteo groans and rests his chin on top of Declan’s shoulder, “remind me never to agree to work a twelve hour international flight ever again.”

Declan chuckles, “I told you it was a bad idea.”  

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles.

Declan kisses the top of his head, “Are you achy? You’ve gotta be achy.”

Matteo nods, pressing his face even more into Declan’s chest, “yeah.”

“Okay,” Declan soothes, rubbing his back, “how about you go lie down and I’ll draw you a bath? It’ll help you feel better.”

“Oh God, please,” he groans, “everything hurts.”

Declan frowns, “yeah? You want my heating pad in the meantime?”

“Not unless you have one that fits over my whole entire body.”

“Are you feeling bad enough to need some medicine?” Declan asks, reaching around him to put a hand on his cheek. He doesn’t have a fever yet, thank God, but Declan has no doubts that he’ll spike one soon.

“No...not yet...m’jus...tired.”

“Did you sleep at all on the flight?”

“No.”

“Of course you didn’t,” Declan grumbles, “go to bed.  I’ll get the bath ready and bring you something to eat.  What do you want?”

“Nothing.”

Declan rolls his eyes, walking with him to their room, “that’s not an acceptable answer, and you know it.  You’ve gotta work with me a little bit, sweetheart.”

“Uh...maybe...some toast?”

“Is that a question or a statement, babe?”

“Ugh, I don’t know,” Matteo groans, “I’m really not very hungry right now.”

“Is your stomach bothering you?”

“No.”

“Did you eat anything during the flight?”  

“...No.”

Declan sighs, “you have no sense of self preservation, you know that?”

“You’ve been telling me that for the last three and a half years,” Matteo groans, collapsing down onto bed. Declan pulls the blanket over him and strokes his cheek

“Will you please eat at least something? Two bites, you don’t have to eat everything, but you need at least something in your system,” Declan asks.

“In a little bit? After the bath? I’m so tired…I want to sleep.”

Declan runs his hand through Matteo’s hair, “alright. Close your eyes, I’ll come get you in a little bit.”

By the time the bath is ready, Matteo is sprawled out in bed, fast asleep.

“Matty, wake up,” he says softly, waking Matteo against his better judgement. He really should just let him sleep - the poor guy is absolutely exhausted.  

He forces his eyes open, which elicits a low groan of discomfort, “ohhhh.”

“Are you okay?”

He lets out a stuffy sounding sniffle, rubs at his eyes and then squeezes them shut again, “mby head. Oh mby God.”

“Oh...you sound awful, sweetheart. What happened? You’ve only been asleep twenty minutes.”

“I dond’t kndow…oh shit, this is awful.”

Declan presses the backs of his fingers to Matteo’s cheek, “no fever, that’s good.  I’m going to go grab you some decongestants and then the bath, yeah?”

“Dond’t wandt to mbove.”

“I know, I know, but it’ll help with the aching...and the steam will help the congestion.”

He sniffles, rubbing at his nose, “you’re probably right.”

The bath does help, although Matteo is too consumed by how awful he feels and how he just wants to sleep, to enjoy it. He stays in it for all of seven minutes before croaking out that he needs to lie down, because even sitting there is too taxing and he feels on the brink of passing out.  

Declan helps him to the bed, and then rummages around in their dresser for a pair of his sweats and a hoodie that’ll be much to big for Matteo.  

“Here,” he says, tossing him the clothes. “Get dressed and get under the blankets, I’m going to go get you water and the thermometer.”

*

Declan always knows exactly when Matteo spikes a fever, and that moment comes at three in the morning, when Matteo shakes him awake

“Decland, acorde,” he mumbles, “eu mbe sindto horrível.”

“Honey, I can’t understand you,” Declan mumbles, rubbing at his left eye with the heel of his palm while he pushes himself into a sitting position.

“Doendte,” he groans, muffling a series of itchy sneezes into the blankets.

“Okay...I know that one,” he sighs, chewing on his bottom lip.  He presses a hand to Matteo’s forehead, inhaling sharply at the heat radiating off of him “you need medicine...shit, you’re really burning up.”

Matteo blinks at Declan in confusion - everything feels like it’s moving in slow motion, everything aches and burns...everything just feels wrong.  He’s simultaneously too hot and too cold, and his head is throbbing so much that just moving it to look at Declan is entirely too painful and brings tears to his eyes.  

“Decland,” he groans, gripping at his shirt.  

“Yeah, hey, what’s up?” Declan asks softly.

“I…” He can’t figure out how to form words - especially in the language Declan understands.  

Declan can tell he’s struggling, he can see the frustration in the line that’s appeared down the center of his forehead, in how tense and rigid his entire body had gone.  

“Hey, hey, hey,” Declan soothes cupping Matteo’s cheek with one hand, and with the other, he smooths his thumb down his forehead, “it’s okay.  Don’t worry, you’re alright.  I just need to get the fever down.”

Matteo mumbles something else in portuguese, eyelids drooping.  

It takes a little bit, but his fever is finally down from nearly one hundred and four to a much more comfortable one hundred and one. Neither of them get much sleep the rest of the night, and by eight that morning, Matteo is on the couch, shivering beneath a blanket.  He watches Declan pace through half-lidded, bleary, fever bright eyes.

He’s been sneezing off and on all morning, and each sneeze feels progressively worse and triggers annoying, stuffy sounding coughing fits.

“You dond’t have to call out,” Matteo sniffles, rubbing at his nose. Despite the fever drop, he still doesn’t feel much better.  

He feels less hazy, yes, but he’s still so congested that it’s making his head throb and leaves him with a dizzy, light headed feeling.  His throat hurts (and everytime he swallows, he’s reminded of that fact), his body hurts, and he’s so tired he just wants to cry.  

“Yes I do.”

“Ndo...hhh..hih’ihtshuh! Ihtsch! Tshih! Snff! Snff...”

“Yes. There’s no way in hell I’m going to leave you alone when you’re this sick.  Mnh-mnh, not happening...and bless you.”

“S’probably...hihhh...ihhh...heh...a g-good thi’gg-tschih!...dizzy,” he mumbles, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Bless you.  See?” He says, ruffling Matteo’s hair, “I’m going to go call my boss, I’ll be right back.”

Declan steps outside, closing the sliding glass door behind him as he pulls his phone out.  He can hear Matteo sneezing even with the door shut - the fit sounds exhausted and scratchy and drawn out, and Declan’s heart clenches.  

Once the phone call is finished, he steps back inside to find Matteo half slumped over with a handful of tissues pressed to his face.  He blinks away irritated tears before his breath hitches again and he lets out a shaky, “Ehtschuh! Tschuh! Snff!”

“Bless you,” he frowns.  

Matteo slumps into him, coughing a little as he rests his head on Declan’s shoulder, “I’mb exhausted.”

Declan wraps an arm around Matteo, rubbing up and down his arm, “I’m going to go get you something to eat, does anything sound good? I know you’re not hungry, but you haven’t eaten today...or yesterday.”

He sniffles, “cand you mbake that s-soup...hhh...hihhh...ihtsch! Hih’tscheww! snff...that onde...ihtsch! Snff! Snff! That you mbake?”

Declan laughs lightly, “yeah I can make that.  Want me to put a movie on for you?”

He shrugs tiredly, “I’mb about to fall asleep. Umb...cand you wait ond the soup? I wandt to cuddle.”

“Absolutely,” Declan says softly.  Matteo maneuvers so that he’s laying with his head in Declan’s lap.

Declan begins carding his hands through Matteo’s hair, which effectively lulls him to sleep.

Translations:

Acorde: wake up

eu me sinto horrível: I feel horrible

Doente: Sick

[a-gay-bloodmage]

---Care to join me in my tent?---

For @zevranology‘s #Zevwarden week

Pairing: Zevran x Male Amell Warden

Pairing Type: M/M

Words: 1,968

Ratings: Partial Nudity, Mentions of sex, no actual sex, use of OC’s name

Shoutout to my proof-reader and tired friend @winchesterhorizon for helping!

“Care to join me in my tent?”

“Why? Is there something in this tent of yours that needs assassinating?”

Redren gave Zevran a long look that was just short of a glare.

“Not unless you count this horrid ache in my back,” he groaned. “You mentioned that you knew massage techniques, and while I’m certain you had other things in mind, I’m curious as to if you were lying or not.”

“Me?” Zevran gasped, feigning hurt. “I cannot believe you could accuse me of being a liar!” He smiled at his lines. “An assassin is nothing but a noble and honest profession!”

“Ha ha,” Redren said, “very funny. But I wasn’t joking, I really am wondering if you were serious when you mentioned you knew how to give a good massage.” Redren was quite serious, as he’s been working up the nerve to ask for quite a few days now, only giving in to himself when he felt like his back was pulled in two fighting Darkspawn earlier in the day.

“No liar am I, my dear Warden,” Zevran grinned, placing a hand on Redren’s shoulder. “If you truly wish to be blessed by my fingers, I am happy to oblige.”

“Ah, thank yo-”

“But if things happen to go further than a massage?” He was smirking now, obviously pleased at how Redren’s face lit up in embarrassment.

“Zevran!” He whispered, trying to keep the other members of their little party from overhearing. “And I doubt that things will go that far!”

“Oh, you’ve hurt me,” Zevran sighed dramatically. “Why say such cruel things?”

“Because I won’t simply sleep with you, no matter how attractive you are!” His voice was still a harsh whisper as he grabbed Zevran’s arm and pulled him into his tent.

“You find me attractive, do you?” Zevran asked, a smug little smirk on his face.

“That was- it, it’s just an observation!” Redren tried to defend his statement, even though the pink on his cheeks said something else.

“Very well, very well,” Zevran said, giving in. “But I’m going to ask you to remove those robes of yours, or else this massage won’t be as useful as it could be.”

Redren felt himself follow quite willingly, his hands undoing the thick brown ribbon that held his robe together, letting his deep red clothing slip off. He was pale as a corpse, a stark contrast to Zevran’s deep Antivan tan. He calmed the blood in his cheeks, taking deep breaths, trying to relax. No sense to tense up during a massage.

“You know,” Zevran said, breaking the silence, “you actually have quite the nice body, my Warden.” His eyes panned up and down, watching the lean muscles of Redren’s figure twitch as the mage tried to suppress his embarrassment.

“Alright, alright,” Redren sighed. “Please just get on with it? I’m not as comfortable being so, well, naked around other people as you are, I’ll have you know.”

“Of course, of course,” Zevran apologized. “And please, let me know if you get uncomfortable during anything.” His tone was sincere, unlike anything Redren had heard from him before. It was, well, sweet. “I want this to be pleasurable for you, my Warden.” The smirk returned.

“Of course,” Redren said, shifting slightly. “And, you don’t always have to call me ‘My Warden,’ or 'Grey Warden,’ or anything like that all the time. Redren’s just fine.”

“Of course, Redren,” he smiled, and just hearing Zevran say his name was like breathing on the embers resting in his abdomen. If it was obvious, he was glad Zevran didn’t say anything.

“Soooo,” Redren started. “What do you want me to do?”

“Oh, yes,” Zevran shook his head a bit, blond hair shaking. “Just let me grab the oils I keep in my bag.” He turned around, grabbing for the little sack he usually kept on his belt that he must have set down when they got into the tent. Both fortunately and unfortunately for Redren, this meant he got a fairly good view of Zevran’s undergarments as he got on his hands and knees to crawl the short distance to the little bag. Redren could swear he was doing this on purpose.

“Do you always keep oils in your bag?” Redren asked, trying to get his mind off of the fact that the very top of Zevran’s legs were just as tanned as the rest of him, no tan line in sight.

“Of course, my dearest Redren,” he purred, turning around to look Redren in the eyes. “For a dry hand is never much fun!”

Redren felt his face heat at the dirty comment, laughing in embarrassment and lightly shoving Zevran’s armored chest. “You’re such a pervert!” He said, only half-joking.

“I prefer the term, seducer, my dear,” he laughed. “And I don’t find it fair that you get to be so free and yet I remain fully clothed!”

“Just keep your bloody unmentionables on,” Redren murmured, averting his eyes as Zevran undid the many straps on his soft leather armor. The sound of the leather sliding off sent shivers down his back, and the smell of the material and sweat was surprisingly pleasant.

“Ah, freedom!” Zevran laughed, and Redren turned back around to see Zevran, with only his undergarments on.

“Okay, can we please just get to the point here?” Redren asked, throwing Zevran a light glare.

“Alright, alright, so eager!” Zevran said, popping open the little bottle of oil. “Now,” he started, pouring a good amount of the substance onto his hands, “lie on your stomach.”

Redren did as he was told, folding his arms beneath his head. He let out a bit of a squeak when he felt Zevran’s hips rest on his ass, as the elf took his position.

“Now now, just relax,” Zevran said, and even though Redren wasn’t looking at him, he knew there was a smirk on his face. Redren let out a breath, allowing himself to relax a bit. He felt two warm hands press on his shoulders, and let out a content sigh as he felt the heel of Zevran’s hands push downward, into the tense muscles. Redren could feel the hands work into his back, gentle yet harsh. He hardly felt time go by, the only noise being the soft moans of pleasure that escaped Redren’s lips, and the steady breathing coming from Zevran. When Zevran moved his hands down to Redren’s shoulder blades, he finally spoke.

“You are, surprisingly tense, my dear,” he commented, his voice low. “If I didn’t know you could handle yourself, I’d say I was quite concerned.”

“Well, I suppose carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders tends to lead to back pain!” Redren wasn’t really joking.

“Very funny,” Zevran replied, pressing his fingers into the groves around Redren’s shoulder blades. “But really, if you were feeling so badly, why didn’t you come to me sooner?” If Redren didn’t know any better, he’d think that the question implied that Zevran was truly concerned about the mage’s health.

“If you want me to be honest, I guess I was nervous,” Redren admitted. “I wasn’t sure if-” he let out a pleased groan as Zevran worked on a knot below his right shoulder. “- If you were going to take me seriously, or if you were serious about these 'Antivan whorehouse massages,’ at all.” He wasn’t exactly sure why he was offering up all this information, but he let it spill anyway. “I figured that maybe, you know, you were just looking for a way to get into my robes, so I wasn’t too ready to risk looking like a naive fool.”

“I see,” Zevran commented, letting his hips roll against Redren’s as he worked. “And would it be so bad if I was trying to, as you put it, 'get into your robes’?”

“Uh,” Redren faltered, and Zevran responded with a chuckle.

“No more words are needed, the twitch in these muscles of yours have told me all I need to know, my dear Redren!”

Redren’s face was slightly heated, but he didn’t respond, deciding not to complicate things. The feeling of Zevran’s hands on his back were too good to ruin with talk of sex. Not to say that he wouldn’t want to think of such things at all, just not now, when Zevran’s oil-coated hands were melting away tension better than any other intimacy. As the quiet went on, Redren couldn’t help but wonder how many other people had been in the same position as him, with Zevran’s muscled legs hugging their hips and his hands pressing down on their naked back. Did Zevran get this intimate with his targets? Likely not, he rationalized, seeing as how he was an assassin, and couldn’t afford to waste such time. But he’s so good at this, he must’ve had practice…

“You alright there?” Zevran asked, pausing for a moment. “You tensed up, and your lovely face is in a pout.”

Just getting a bit jealous of people that may or may not exist because they were with a man that certainty isn’t and won’t be mine!

“Sorry,” he said, letting out a sigh. “You’re not doing anything wrong, but I can’t help but feel awkward, I’ve never been with anyone-” he paused, swallowing. “- like this.”

Zevran was quiet for a moment until he responded. “If I can be completely honest here, I didn’t expect that,” He laughed quietly. “You’re attractive, no? And being raised in such close quarters in that Circle of yours-”

“Zevran,” Redren sighed, “there is no way that anything like that would’ve happened to me. I’m not exactly attractive, I’m rude, I’m anti-social, and not to mention, the only person I ever really got close to had a girlfriend!” He was actually amused that Zevran could’ve thought he was experienced with anything.

“Oh.” Zevran went back to working out the knots in Redren’s back. He didn’t say anything, but Redren could feel that he was being slightly more gentle, focusing more on his upper back than his lower.

“Zevran, I’ve drunk Darkspawn blood before, I’m not going to break if you press hard on my oh so innocent back!” Redren laughed at this, the idea that Zevran was being careful with him both frustrating as well as very welcome.

“Ah, yes, my apologies,” Zevran chuckled, putting pressure down, making Redren hiss slightly. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant. “If you believed I was being delicate with you, I assure you I was simply thrown off by the knowledge you’re so innocent!”

“Zevran, I’ve murdered people.”

“Yes, good point, that.”

They both laughed, and Redren couldn’t help but wish this experience would never end.

Once again they both fell silent, and Redren even began to feel his eyes start to get heavy.

“Redren,” Zevran said, amused. “If you’re getting tired, don’t feel like you have to stay awake.” Redren didn’t respond, but he let his eyes close, not even opening them when Zevran’s hips shifted back, and his hands worked their way down to the small of his back. The feeling of another man’s bulge pressed against his own was strange, but certainly not unwelcome.

He wasn’t sure exactly when he fell asleep, but he woke up the next morning alone, nearly naked, and hopelessly relaxed. He stood, rolling off the wolf pelts he slept on, and put on his robe. Walking outside, he noticed Leliana, Alistair, Wynne, and Zevran already up and eating by the fire. When he sat down, taking his usual spot between Leliana and Zevran, he noticed his companions varying looks out of the corners of his eyes. Leliana looked very amused, Alistair’s cheeks were pink, Wynne just looked tired, and Zevran had a very satisfied grin on his face.

Redren spoke up. “What’re you all thinking about?”

[maddieautobot273]

AC Syndicate - Juno’s Curse (Part 2) - Jacob Frye X OC

Here is Part 2 of my miniseries Juno’s Curse! Jacob and Madeline have a romantic evening together and the magician revisits her previous nightmare, with new developments being revealed! Madeline decides enough is enough, and chooses to find out if her dreams are true. But will she try to hide it from Jacob? 

Caution: Hint of slight NSFW (If one could even call it that, if anything it’s something inbetween xD)

Shoutout to @oreanagalena / @blindgeishateahouse and @babelast thank you for your wonderful comments in the last update, they really meant a lot to me! <3 Hope you both have a great weekend! 

*********

Jacob took Madeline to a pub in The Strand for some afternoon fish n’ chips before shifting to another pub down in Southwark to join some of the Rooks for some pint. Long after nightfall came, the pair took a stroll through the park near the Cathedral in the City of London, talking and catching up on things they’ve missed before making their way back to Madeline’s lodgings.

While Madeline was busy preparing for the festival and other performances in between, Jacob had been busy with helping Sargent Abberline in nailing some newly discovered thugs around the city. They may have not been as dangerous as the Templars, heck even some Blighters, but they sure did cause quite a bit of trouble. Enough trouble for Freddy to have need to call Jacob and his sister in for assistance.

“And then to top it all off, there was another sighting of Spring Heeled Jack down in Devil’s Arche with the Ghost Club,” Jacob continued, his voice containing a hint of complexity. “I’ve never really believed in ghosts and goblins all that much, but that logic is always questioned whenever he comes back for an encore.”

“Spring Heeled Jack? Madeline repeated in surprise. “I’ve heard stories about him when I was a girl. There’s supposedly been sightings of him back home in Scotland. I’ve never actually seen him, but I’ve known people who say they have.”

“And what do they think?” Jacob asked.

“Some believe him to be some bugger in a costume just trying to cause a ruckus,” she answered. “Others believe it to be the real deal,”

“Well then, the next time he shows his face again, I’ll find out myself,” Jacob proclaimed triumphantly. “If I can handle fighting a man armed with a shroud to make him immortal, I’m sure I can handle a man who can summon duplicates of himself,”

Madeline stopped in her tracks, lightly jerking Jacob back with her as she did have a hold on his arm as they walked. “He can do that?”

Jacob nodded in confirmation. “Reminds me a bit of a magic trick, but I’m sure you’d be able to do it better. With him, it’s easy to spot him out if you look carefully,”

“Duplication tricks? I’ll keep that in mind,” Madeline snickered, resuming her pace as Jacob immediately followed at her side. “Always know what to say, don’t you?”

“Don’t I always?” Jacob raised a brow at the girl with a tease.

“Anytime, anywhere. . . most of the time,” Madeline smiled playfully as they neared her house.

Jacob scoffed, pretending to be taken back. “Hang on, now, love,” he released her arm before gently pressing her back against the front door, resting an arm just over her head. “Most of the time?”

Madeline shrugged her shoulders, glancing up at his face. “Nobody’s perfect, Jacob,”

“That may be true,” he agreed, his face inching closer to hers as she could feel his warm, slightly intoxicated breath upon her lips. “But perhaps I can redeem myself in a certain place?”

Madeline couldn’t help but smile as she cradled his face with her hands, her thumbs gently petting his cheekbones. “You may. . . at a certain time, my Ace of Hearts,”

Jacob chuckled light heartedly in defeat, hanging his head as he did so. “It appears I am not the only one who knows what to say,”

“I do miss our more intimate moments, Jacob, I really do,” Madeline reassured the Assassin as she regained his attention. “But I also missed the other moments we share, like early today. Going to pubs, evening strolls, it’s the trivial things we take for granted sometimes.”

She cupped his face again, pressing a long, gentle kiss to his lips before lightly pecking them again as she pulled away. “When the time comes, I will let you know when, sound fair?”

“I would never want to rush you, my dear,” he replied sincerely. “For that I apologize,”

“There’s no need for that”, Madeline reassured him. “Come, let’s get inside,”

Jacob moved away from the girl, allowing her room to unlock the front door and enter the house. As she ventured into the kitchen, Jacob stepped into the main hall, remaining idle as he shut the door behind him. With Madeline occupied, Jacob reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small, bright red velvet box.

Wait it out… see how the evening plays out first.

Hearing her footsteps draw near, he quickly shoved the box back into his jacket pocket as he quickly made himself busy, taking off his coat and top hat as he hanged them on a rack, hoping that Madeline didn’t see the box.

‘Thirsty?” She asked.

Jacob turned, eying a bottle of pint in one hand, and two glasses in the other. “I am now,”

“Picked it up the other day, heard it was your favourite,” she smiled, leading him down the hall.

“A wonderful surprise, love,” Jacob beamed as he followed her into the living room.

Setting down on the couch at the other end of the room, Jacob took the bottle in his hand as he released the cork before pouring a glass for each other. They proposed a toast before taking a drink. Jacob swallowed the drink whole as if it were water. Madeline managed to gulp half, but it felt like a quick rush of fire had burned her throat as she shook her head to try to ease herself.

“That currently is a bit stronger than I’m used to,” she whistled. “Has a bit of a bite to it,”

“You don’t have to drink it because of me, love,” said Jacob.

“It’s fine, really,” she assured him as she set her drink down on the table before them. But just as she moved, a shot of pain coursed through her back and shoulders, her muscles aching as she hissed, flinching at the feel of it as she hunched over slightly.

Witnessing this, Jacob nearly choked as he had been drinking his second glass. Setting the drink down, his hands quickly came upon her for comfort as he shuffled closer to her. “Maddie?!”

“It’s nothing… It appears that the fatigue from working last night has finally caught up to me,” she sighed, laughter light heartedly to try and lighten the mood.

“Where does it hurt?” He asked with concern.

“My shoulders, and along my back,” she huffed. “But mostly my shoulders,”

“Here, let me,” Jacob prescribed as he carefully moved Madeline’s hair before beginning to work on her shoulders. “How does that feel?”

Madeline’s eyes shot wide open like flying saucers she felt the motion against her skin. She could feel the pain slowly diminishing from her body. “Wonderful,” she hummed.

This feeling… this sensation of his hands on her skin… it sparked her senses like fireworks. She felt his hands roamed down to massage her shoulder blades. Feeling his touch after a long while, it sent a shiver down her spine.

I missed seeing you… sometimes that can mean miss seeing all of you…

Madeline turned her head slowly to look at Jacob, locking onto his gaze. He had always teased her about casting spells, but whenever she looked into those pure hazel eyes or that devilish smile of his, she felt as if she had been casted under a spell. Without even considering it, her hand slowly placed itself into his left thigh. “Jacob?”

Jacob noticed her staring as he stopped his motions, looking back into her eyes as his fingers moved to interlock themselves into her hair to brush it back. “Yes, love?”

Madeline inched her face closer towards his, pausing for a moment as her lips formed into a playful smile. “When,”

Jacob knew exactly what she had meant. With an excited grin plastered on his face, the two-met part way, sharing a kiss as their arms wrapped around each other’s bodies, pulling them closer to one another.

“Why don’t we take this somewhere you’ll be more comfortable?” Jacob purred with suggestion. His arms suddenly snacked under Madeline’s knees and around her shoulders as he lifted her up to his chest, carrying her from the living room and up the stairs to her chambers.

Madeline couldn’t help but giggle at the playful action as Jacob pushed the door open with his boot before stalking into the room, gently setting the magician down on the bed. “You never seize to surprise me, Jacob,”

“Last chance to step down if need be,” Jacob cautioned as he began to undress himself. “I do not wish to cause you further harm if you’re still feeling pain from last night,”

“I will be fine,” She assured the man, sitting up slightly as she worked on untying her corset. “I know you’ll take care of me,”

Jacob had removed everything but his boxers as he couldn’t help but bellow a charming laughter, chucking his trousers to the floor. “I promise to be oh so gentle, after all, love. . .” He smiled as he slowly waltzed towards the edge of the bed, his finger trailing the pattern of the bed cover, before removing her boots “I am but your servant. . .” climbing up onto the bed, gently pulling off her stockings as his hands gliding against the smooth skin of her legs before he crawled closer towards her like a predator coming upon his prey.

Madeline’s cheeks fumed a dark pink as she squirmed in her place. She wanted to hide her face but she couldn’t look away, for Jacob was now towering over her.

“And most importantly,” he continued before lowering his head, placing a gentle kiss upon her chest right over her heart before glancing back to meet her gaze. “I am your Ace of Hearts,”

The two exchanged smiles before their lips touched once more, sharing one passionate kiss after another, tongues grazing one another. Jacob only pulled away for a moment to blow out the candle that illuminated on the bedside table. Making a wish to not be disturbed, the fire blew out as darkness consumed the room, allowing the pair to share their love for each other in peace.

*********

Madeline woke up to find herself back in the basement of the Magic Club. Once again, the cellar door leading to the outside was locked, only this time the mysterious door hidden in the back wall of the room was now open, allowing her entry.

“I’m back here again?” Madeline spoke aloud, seeming scared.

“Here… I am here…”

Her eyes widened as she nearly stumbled to the floor, eyes locked towards he door. That voice… was the woman trying to tell her that she was inside the room? Was she trapped in there this whole time? Did she need help?

Her mind was telling her to stay put, that something wasn’t right. But her heart was telling her otherwise. If someone was in trouble, shouldn’t she go investigate?

Madeline urged every bone in her bone to move at her command, walking towards the door. Her hands pressed against the arch of the bricked opening, she passed through the entry way. This time there was no blinding light. The room was pitched dark.

“Hello? Is someone in here?” Madeline called. “Do you need help?”

Torches suddenly came to life, sparking along the walls of the hexagon shaped room. While it did provide some light, Madeline still could not see what or who was causing the sound of the voice.

“Here… I am here…”

A spotlight ignited, shining on something in the center of the room. There was something there, an object, resting on a podium of sorts, shining on display. Stepping closer towards it, Madeline discovered that it was a… necklace?

“Wait… I’ve seen that before, but here?” She thought.

“I am here…”

There was the voice again, but it was louder this time. As if this mystery woman were speaking right next to her. Looking down, Madeline quickly realized that the voice was coming from the necklace. But that was impossible! No physical object could speak! This was a necklace for Christ sake! Why is she dreaming this again?

“… Are you talking to me?” Madeline asked slowly.

“I am here… set me free!”

Upon hearing the new set of words, the spotlight shined brighter, blinding Madeline’s eyes as she screamed trying to protect herself.

*******

Madeline’s eyes snapped awake, her forehead sweating up a storm. Her breathing was heavy and shaky as her eyes darted around to try and recall where she was. She was back in her bedroom, her naked body snuggled up against Jacob as her head laid on his hairy chest, the blanket of the bed covers draped over them as Jacob’s left arm was placed along her back, his quiet snores filling the room.

She sighed with relief that she was back in the real world. That was the second time she dreamt of that voice, of that room. . . what did it all mean?

Glancing over at the wall opposite of the window, she could see faint yellow rays rising on a certain spot of the wall, illuminating from the window. The sun must just be coming up by now. If there really is another room hidden beneath the Magic Club, should she go and see if it’s truly there? She wasn’t going crazy, was she?

“it can’t be a coincidence,” she thought to herself. “All of this started when I fell in that room,”

But what about Jacob?

Madeline turned her head to look at his sleeping face. He seemed well rested enough, so at peace. It was still early. Even Jacob wouldn’t be up at this hour back on the train, would he? What if Madeline left now, did some exploring, and then come back before he wakes up? They had promised to spend all weekend together, but there wasn’t no harm in taking a quick peek was there?

But what if he does wake up before she returns? What would she say if he questioned her?

“If it happens, it happens,” she scowled. “Just go quickly, and don’t try to wake him!”

With a steady breath, Madeline pulled her body back slowly from his before gently moving Jacob’s arm away from her back, setting down to his side. She turned to the side, slowly moving her left leg away from his waist, shifting to a cross legged position, her back turned towards the Assassin. She waited a few moments to make sure her movements didn’t stir Jacob from his slumber. When Madeline thought the cost was clear, she began to move forward, but stopped cold when her movement caused the bed frame to creek.

Jacob’s nose scrunched up, his head twitching slightly. He groaned, rubbing his eyes as he slowly sat up from his side of the bed. “Love? What are you doing up at this hour?”

“I, uh. . .  needed to use the bathroom?” She answered, managing a cheap smile.

Once he rubbed the sand out of his eyes, Madeline’s brown eyes met Jacob’s hazel ones. He had a smug, yet also playful look on his face as he leaned back slightly, using his hands to keep him up. “Maddie, I say this because I love you, you’re not quite good at lying,”

Busted!

Madeline’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she fell back into her sitting position, fiddling with a lock of her hair as Jacob moved to sit by her. He kissed her shoulder gently before looking up at her face, brushing some of her hair out of her eyes. “What’s troubling you?”

There wasn’t really another way out of this, was there? Sucking in her gut, Madeline sighed as her hands dropped to her lap. “I had that nightmare again,”

“Again?” Jacob repeated, adjusting his position so he sat up right. “Did you remember anything this time?”

“I remember hearing a voice, and stepping through the doorway. There was this light that came down and it showed me something,” Madeline explained before pausing a moment before hissing with frustration. “Ah, it’s on the tip of my tongue!”

“Don’t beat yourself over it,” Jacob soothed, gently cupping her chin as he turned her to face him. “It was just a dream,”

“But the same one in two days?” Madeline replied with a slight strain in her voice. “This all started after I fell in the basement of the Club. Jacob, I understand if you don’t want to believe me, but I swear I’m not going crazy. The two are connected somehow!”

“Slow down, Maddie,” Jacob eased, placing his hands on her shoulders. “I never said I didn’t believe, or that you were crazy,”

“I just need to check if it’s true. I have to go the Magic Club, but I’ll be back,” Madeline replied. “Maybe it will help ease my conscience,”

“This really is troubling you much, is it?” Jacob asked for confirmation.

“I keep hearing that voice saying the same thing repeatedly,” Madeline sighed as she lowered her head. “I just have this feeling that’s telling me to go there,”

“. . . Let me go with you,” Jacob offered.

“What?” Madeline spoke with surprise.

“Whatever you’re looking for, let me help you find it,” he suggested. “Perhaps it will help you relieve some of that stress you’re feeling,”

“You might have to give me another one of your rare massages when we get back,” Madeline perked up a smile, kissing Jacob’s cheek before moving off the bed to fetch a new change of clothes.

“Or, perhaps if you’re feeling up to it, we could go for round 2?” He offered, sly grin on his face as he picked up one of his shirts.

Madeline snorted as a quick flush of pink coursed through her cheeks before she turned to face the Assassin again. “Jacob Frye--!”

“What?” he shrugged with a light-hearted chuckle. “All I’m saying is we could!”

Madeline rolled her eyes at the man before the pair worked on getting dressed for the day before heading out of the house and onward to the Magic Club.

Soon. . . This will all be over soon. . .