#someone please stop the misty chaos train

[valkyriesix]

Unhinged Yellowjackets thought #45:

The Wilderness is literally just Misty Quigley being an impulsive menace. I love her… but we do know her track record.

•black box

•Crystal Kristen

•telling the yj’s lottie was pleased with the Javi Feast (Ron Howard voice: she was not)

•the Nat thing

I’m sure I’m missing a lot. But Misty is definitely causing a lot of things to happen, and I do have questions

[captain-tch]

All That I Can Give

summary: kiko is a struggling business owner, who gets thrown into the chaos of the borderlands. when she makes a mistake that will threaten her life, she learns just how far she will go to keep herself alive.

TW: DEATH, MENTIONS OF ATTEMPTED SUICIDE, MENTAL HEALTH, TOXIC RELATIONSHIPS, VIOLENCE

chapter 3: two truths and a lie 

previous chapter

Kiko was sweating so hard she thought she wouldn’t be able to get out of her chair. She was praying no one would be able to see, but with all the eight players sat in a circle, she was certain they all had a front seat view to the perspiration building on her forehead. 

In front of them all was a polygraph. From the frowns on some peoples faces, it was clear they were confused as to what it was, some of them even glancing at the foreign device cautiously. Still they followed the instructions from the bodiless voice to connect themselves to it. Kiko prayed it didn’t mistake the racing of her heart as a lie.

“RULES: ONE PLAYER WILL TELL THE OTHER PLAYERS TWO TRUTHS AND A LIE. WHAT LIE THEY TELL AND WHAT THESE TRUTHS ARE ABOUT WILL BE DISPLAYED ON YOUR DEVICES. IF YOU DO NOT TELL THE SPECIFIED TRUTH OR TELL THE LIE YOU ARE TOLD, THEN YOU WILL BE DISQUALIFIED. YOU CAN ASK EACH PLAYER TWO QUESTIONS. THOSE THAT CORRECTLY IDENTIFY THE LIE WILL WIN AND CONTINUE TO PLAY THE NEXT ROUND, UNTIL ALL PLAYERS HAVE HAD A TURN.” 

Something about the word disqualified rang alarm bells in her head. Kiko watched the boy in front of her carefully, seeing how he flinched when the voice said this. It clearly wasn’t disqualification as Kiko knew it, but something far more sinister. 

“YOU HAVE 30 MINUTES. GOOD LUCK.” 

As soon as the voice stopped talking, Kiko’s phone flashed. All around the room her fellow players reached for their phones, reading the information displayed to them on the screen. She took a moment to gauge their reactions - a man in shorts raised a brow before putting his phone face down, glancing nervously at the person next to him, another man with glasses smiled, and the middle aged woman Kiko spoke to earlier was impassive. The teenage boy sat directly in front of her didn’t even look at his phone.  

Taking a deep breath, Kiko read the information on the screen. 

TELL A TRUTH ABOUT YOUR DARKEST TIME.  TELL A TRUTH ABOUT YOUR FATHER.  DO NOT TELL A LIE - PICK A RANDOM TRUTH ABOUT YOURSELF. 

Kiko tried to control her expression. She tried to not betray the confusion running throughout her body. The rules were running through her head on a loop - maybe by telling only truths, she was misleading her fellow players. By default, even if the words she said were true, she was lying to them. Kiko suppressed the urge to gulp deeply. She tried to focus on the information instead, repeating it endlessly so she wouldn’t make a mistake and get disqualified.  

Placing her phone face down on the table, she cast a glance around the room. Everyone was eyeing up the other players. 

“Who goes first?” The man with glasses asked. He pulled on the collar of his shirt. 

A girl Kiko hadn’t taken much notice of before piped up, clicking her heels on the ground. “Since you so kindly volunteered, why don’t you go? Then we can follow it around.”

Glasses man grumbled, but yielded none the less. Kiko stared at him carefully, watching how his hands kept tapping thin air and he kept licking his lips. “I’ve been committing tax fraud for the past five years.” 

He paused, as if waiting for someone to egg him on. He relaxed a bit in his chair. “I married my wife even though I never loved her.” 

Kiko sat further up in her seat. 

“I hate it when the girl I’m fucking behind my wife’s back is on top during sex.” 

A snort slipped past Kiko’s lips. Glasses sent her a glare, which she returned with a sweet smile. 

“What questions should we ask?” Shorts man offered the room. No one responded. 

Time was ticking and Kiko hated it. These people were sitting silently, as if expecting the answer to be handed to them on a plate. Time was money, a concept Kiko was far too familiar with. Before she could stop herself, she had directed a question to Glasses. “When did you and your wife get married?” 

“18th October 1992.” He responded quickly.

At this, Kiko tilted her head slightly. Why would a man who claimed to have never loved his wife, remember the date they got married? Maybe the speed he responded wasn’t because the date was ingrained in his brain, but a sheer moment of panic. Either way, it seemed impossible to pluck a random date from thin air. Even if that wasn’t the date they got married, it clearly was a date of significance to him. 

She turned to her fellow players, “Anyone else want to ask a question, or can I go ahead?” 

They gestured for her to carry on. Egged on with this confidence, Kiko asked a final question. “When did you start fucking other people who weren’t your wife?” 

He paled slightly. Head turned down in shame, he answered. “Four years ago.” 

Kiko mulled the information over. The rules said that you had to identify the lie - but they never said anything about half truths. For him to have started an affair so late in the marriage, and to remember the date so quickly, suggested to her that he did love his wife once. By default, it was technically a lie. However with the way he reacted to about the fraud, she wasn’t sure that was the lie. He was nervous, but who wouldn’t be if they committed fraud? Maybe Glasses messed up on the delivery. Or maybe there was only one lie and Kiko was looking too much into it. 

“I think his lie is that he never loved his wife.” Kiko followed her gut. The other players stared at Kiko, as if looking for an explanation. Sighing, Kiko explained the train of thought she’d had. It seemed to satisfy most of them, and nearly everyone bar one agreed with Kiko. 

“Hold up, you’re going to blindly agree with this girl? You know she could be setting us up right?” The man in the shorts argued, pointing an accusatory finger at Kiko. “I don’t trust the newbie. I believe that the lie is that he committed tax fraud.” 

With all the answers in, the disembodied voice made an announcement. “SIX PLAYERS ARE CORRECT. ONE PLAYER IS DISQUALIFIED.” 

With those damning words, a beam of energy appeared from the roof. And shot the man in the shorts directly in the head. 

Kiko shrieked, watching his body slump and fall off of the chair. A hole was burned into his head. His mouth was slack, his body robbed of the time to scream. His coffee coloured eyes were wide open. Kiko couldn’t erase the feeling he was staring at right at her. Her vision became misty, unable to rip her focus from the dead man she indirectly killed. 

The player sat beside him didn’t spare the dead body even a single glance. Now, Kiko understood the blank faces, the dead eyes and the hopeless attitude. 

To be disqualified, was to die. 

The next five players passed in a blur. The lies were easy to spot from miles away, and having gained the trust of her fellow players everyone gave the same answer Kiko did. While it did provide her a sense of pride they trusted her so easily, the weight of the game lay heavy on her shoulders. Each time she pondered an answer, she saw the man in the shorts, how his face fell slack as the laser pierced his brain, ending his life. 

She wouldn’t allow that to happen again. 

But as they worked through the players and got closer to Kiko, she realised how fucked her team mates were. She didn’t have a lie to tell. They had been relying on her to identify the answers, and now they were going to do it alone. Someone was bound to die. 

“Kiko, it’s your turn.” The middle aged woman gently reminded her. “Not to be rude, but we only have five minutes remaining. You better be quick.” 

Gulping harshly, Kiko tried as hard as she could to not show any tells. The moment she showed a clear tell, they would latch onto it and believe that would be the lie. After years of training her face to face loan sharks and debt collectors, she composed an iron wall in front of her features. 

She needed to tell them a truth about her darkest time. God, she wished she didn’t have to share this with strangers. Even her own brother didn’t know. “My dad went into hospital and I... I tried to jump in front of a train.” 

Taking in a deep breath, she continued with a truth about her father. “My father died and left me with a lot of debt. I resent him for that.” 

Lastly, the final truth. The truth that was meant to be a lie. She panicked, letting the first thing that came to mind spill past her lips. “I’m allergic to cats.” 

Kiko watched her fellow players, seeing the answers she gave toll in their minds. They had less than five minutes now to decide on the answer. The weight of their deaths felt heavy on her heart and Kiko questioned why this wasn’t a hearts game, especially since she could feel her heart ache in preparation for the pain that was about to come. 

“Why did you jump in front of a train?” The woman in heels asked. “Not exactly a great solution to the problem.” 

Anger boiled off of Kiko. “Fuck off and shove your heels up your ass.”

“You need to answer it.” 

“It...” Kiko glanced away from the woman, trying to shy away from her venomous gaze. Her voice was small as she revealed one of her darkest secrets. “It felt like the only option at the time.” Kiko stared at the woman, imagining how satisfying it would be to punch her. “Can you please stop looking at me as if I’m the scum of the earth?” 

“I just hate it when people lie about things so serious.” 

Kiko laughed darkly, shaking her head. “You’re one to talk. Didn’t you lie about murdering a man? I bet it was because you only got manslaughter instead.” 

“You bitch -” The heeled woman was cut off by the middle aged lady. 

“We only have 2 minutes remaining.” The middle aged woman smiled at Kiko, taking it upon herself to ask the final question. “Did you love your father?” 

“With all my heart.” 

“Then I’m sure he forgives you for feeling the way you do.” The woman looked at the fellow players. “I believe the lie is that she’s allergic to cats.” 

All around the room, everyone started to list her lie. There was a variety of answers, with the heeled woman believing the lie was about her dark time. With each answer, Kiko felt her heart fall further. She stared at their faces, memorising the features of those she was about to murder, trying to push down the roaring wave building in her chest. 

“My answer is there was no lie.”

Kiko’s head snapped to the boy sat in front of her. His face was young, with eyes old beyond his years. He was subconsciously rubbing the red stain on his shirt sleeve. 

“ONE PLAYER IS CORRECT. FIVE PLAYERS ARE DISQUALIFIED.” 

She managed to stomach her scream as five people got murdered before her very eyes. 

“GAME CLEAR - CONGRATULATIONS.” 

Kiko removed herself from the polygraph, keeping her gaze fixed on one point of the wall as she left the room. With a controlled ease, she stepped over a pair of heels blocking her way. She made her way to the entrance, ready to open the door and feel the air brush her skin. 

“Wait!” The boy jogged behind her. In his hand was looked like a card, the seven of diamonds painted on it’s surface. “You forgot this.” 

Kiko rolled her eyes. “What am I going to do with a playing card that proves I killed six people?” 

“You never know when you might need them.” He offered the card out to her. Begrudgingly, she plucked it from his fingers, turning her back to him. “Wait.” 

She took a calming breath. A storm was brewing inside her and her body was begging for it to be released. All this conversation did was build the intensity of the destruction. 

The boy no longer looked like a boy, a memory of a dark time adding to his years. She could see in the way his eyes clouded and his lips downturned. “I know how it feels right now. Don’t make their deaths mean nothing.” 

“What do I do?”

He gave her a sad smile. “You fight to get back home.” 

“How?” She wasn’t sure at which point she relied on a teenage boy to hold all of the answers. 

“You keep playing games. With this seven of diamonds game, you have a seven day visa. Play a game before it expires. You don’t want to find out what happens if it does.”

With those wise words, he clapped her shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze before pushing his way into the outside world. She followed him, watching him walk further away. As his shadow melted into the night, she wondered if she should have asked him to stay with her. 

She didn’t even know his name. 

She didn’t know any of their names. 

Somehow now, with the ghosts of those she murdered haunting her, she felt lonelier than she ever had before. 

[rons-hermiones]

Come Find Me

Come Find Me

by rons-hermiones

Summary: Unplanned, Hermione is forced to spend Christmas at the Burrow due to her grandmother falling very ill. After being ignored by Hermione for weeks, Ron is determined to show her how much she means to him. Just before he gets the chance to tell her, Bellatrix Lestrange shows up with other plans for Hermione. Can Ron get to her before it's too late? (Ron/Hermione Half-Blood Prince AU)

Rating: M for language & dark themes in later chapters.

Chapter Twenty Two

Ron hadn’t said a word all morning. He’s of course been quiet since everything went down just what, two weeks ago? 

The person he has the least trouble talking to is Harry. His whole family and The Order are right devastated, but no one gets how he feels quite like Harry does. 

Her parents were an entirely different story. 

That day when they left Hampstead Hermione’s parents had showered the three boys with tender embraces and promises that things would be alright. But that shouldn’t be the case. 

Not when Ron was responsible for this whole thing. Not when he spent more of his time at the Granger residence locked away in Hermione’s room, explaining to her father all the times he’s been a right tit to her over a game of chess. 

He should’ve been the one giving the reassurances that he would get their daughter back, not the other way around. 

That was only two days ago. 

Now he stands on the chaos that is Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, still having not spoken a peep to anyone. Not even when Harry told him he’d been screaming for Hermione again in his sleep last night. 

However, time was running down as the Hogwarts Express rolled up and opened its doors. 

His Mum was tearful, more so than usual, probably with the notion of sending three of her mourning children off to school. 

That’s right, three. Ginny, Ron, and Harry. 

“Come here sweet girl, promise me you��ll write darling.” Molly cried into Ginny’s shoulder, the girl stifling a nod through sniffles. 

Soon, Mrs.Weasley pulled away to embrace Harry tightly, her sobs only becoming louder, causing a slight scene. 

Arthur noticed and gently patted her back as he turned to Ron, “I know you can do this son.” He said in a whisper. 

After a moment he spoke, “I don’t know if I can Dad.” This man right here is his hero. He couldn’t help but be honest with him. 

He dropped his hand from his wife’s shoulder and switched it atop Ron’s. “I know you can do this Ron, I know you’ll be strong. For Hermione.” He told his boy, who somehow has grown into a man.  

Knowing his fathers words to be true, the youngest Weasley brother managed a nod as he grasped at his Dad’s shoulders. 

“Someone will be sent there within the week, yeah? Make sure everything’s alright down in Hampstead.” 

“I promise Ronnie. I’ll see to it myself. Someone from The Order will check the wards and debrief the Granger’s.” Arthur swore. 

As they departed a few days ago, Bill had promised Hugo and Jean someone within the Order would be stopping by to properly debrief them and check the wards. Ron was determined to make sure this promise was kept. 

“Swear to me Dad that you’ll write if anything changes,” his father opens his mouth, “I know Mum thinks I’m too young and it’s too dangerous, but I’m going mental as is, I reckon it’ll only get worse at school. Please promise me you’ll tell me what’s being done if anything, anything at all changes. Please?” He begs. 

After a few moments, a little misty eyed, the man nods, “I promise son. I promise.” 

The conversation ends as Molly halts herself at her youngest son. Crying and whispering sweet nothings. Words of encouragement. The promise to bring Hermione home. 

“I promise Ronnie, she’ll come back. She’ll come home.” She cried softly. 

He rubs his mother’s back gently, “I’ll hold you to it Mum.” Ron responds, just as tenderly. 

At this Molly pulls away to gaze up at her son, who now towers over her. So proud of the man he’s become. At the things he’s able to face. 

And she tells him as much, “I’m so proud of you Ronnie. Please know it, I am. You’re so strong.” She fusses with his hair gently. 

Not willing to let himself cry here, he leans forward and places a soft kiss on his Mum’s cheek. Really caring less who saw. 

“I’ll write, okay?” 

“Okay.” She answers, stepping back into her husbands awaiting arms. 

A whistle sounds as more kids pile onto the train. 

“You guys need anything to help you out,” Fred winks, “you just owl us, we’ll send it in a tick.” 

“On the house.” George promises, clapping Ron on the back as he smiles at Harry. 

“Goodbye gits.” Ginny supplies with a watery smile. 

The pair of them just grin back, silently wishing the three of them luck. Letting them know to be strong through a simple expression. 

As they turn to board, Harry whispers low in Ron’s ear, “it’ll be alright mate. It will.” 

Not in the mood for sentiments any longer, the ginger just grumbles. “Let’s get on this ruddy thing before anyone finds us.” 

Somehow, they managed to discreetly find a private compartment, drawing the shade and sitting in silence. 

As the engine gained speed and the train began rolling forward, Ron blocked out whatever nonsense Ginny and Harry were going on about. Instead, he watched the pastures speed by. 

It all felt so wrong. 

For the first time since he was eleven he sat here in this compartment, in their compartment, without her here. It was almost too much to bear. 

No asking if he’d catch up on any assignments. No listening to her talk about her holiday as her eyes shined with joy. No shutting Harry down for wild theories. 

Nothing. 

And despite Harry and Ginny rattling off nearby, there’s nothing. 

Just silence. 

Apparently, a lot of time passed with Ron sitting like that. Gazing out the window and feeling empty. 

The only thing that pulled him from his trance hours later was the door sliding open. He gazed at it with hope, because for some stupid reason, for one second, he imagined Hermione being on the other side. 

Of course, she wasn’t.  

“Oh finally! I’ve checked just about every compartment.” Neville told them, taking a seat next to Ginny. Diagonal from Ron. 

He soon reverted his eyes back to the window, hoping Neville would leave him be. He wasn’t in the mood to socialize. 

“Hey Neville.” Harry said, sitting up and trying to smile, though it faltered. 

However, the fellow Gryffindor didn’t seem to notice. 

“How was everyone’s holiday? Mine was quite good if I say. You see here,” he held up a pot with a pretty flower, “this is a Whispering Lily, my Gran managed to get one, rare things they are. I’m not even entirely sure what it can do. I just know it’s properties are similar to a Dancing Daisy.” He sounded off like they understood. 

“You see I was hoping Hermione could help me, I’d bet she knows. I can nurse plants, sure, but knowing everything about them? Not particularly. So where is she?” He finished, at the mention of her name Ron finally looked up. 

“She's not here.” Harry said shakily, though calm. 

“Oh, loo?” He figured. 

Ginny shook her head, “no Neville she’s not here. As in, she’s not on the train.”

It took a moment but it finally registered with him what Ginny was saying. Neville knew Hermione wouldn’t miss school for anything. Unless of course..

“No! We’ve been owling over holiday, we had been sending letters back and forth, she told me about her Gran!” He exclaimed in disbelief. 

For a brief moment something bubbled deep within Ron. It wasn’t the same insane jealousy he felt when he thought of Hermione and Viktor Krum, but it was more feelings of disappointment. Disappointment in the fact that she didn’t feel sure enough to find that sort of comfort within Ron, despite sharing the same house. 

He soon pushed away those thoughts because soon enough something dawned on him, “When was the last time you owled her?” He finally spoke harshly. 

Neville jumped at the aggression behind his words and the look in his eyes, “uh I don’t know!” 

Ron leaned forward, determined to know the truth. He knew it was far fetched to think she was owling Neville somewhere but at this point he wanted to cling to anything. 

At his look, the brunette shut his eyes in thought, “I sent a letter late Christmas Eve night, it probably arrived in the morning. I haven’t heard from her since. I swear.” He said defensively, though unsure why. 

Harry flicked his gaze to Ron’s nodding at Neville’s words. He can recall the golden owl that he knows to belong to Grandma Longbottom pecking on the Burrow window while the Weasley’s were at Muriel’s. 

At the chosen one's gesture, the red head eased a bit, though his stomach was still turning. The brief hope now squashed and turned into terrible parasites. 

“What’s this all about then? The lot of you are acting like wherever Hermione is she’ll never come back.” Neville piped up after the long tense silence. 

“Of course she’s coming back!” Ron snapped sharply before he could help himself, causing the other boy to flinch. 

“What I think he means is,” Harry starts softer, “is that Hermione’s Grandmother passed over holiday so she’s gone home to Hampstead to deal with it all and the arrangements.” He said, voice quivering over the lie, but to Neville it appeared as mere sadness for their friend. 

“Oh Merlin! That’s terrible! Harry, please tell me next time you write her, will you? I’d like to send a letter out with Hedwig.” He responded sadly. 

At this, the dark haired boy could only morosely nod. 

“Have you heard from her? Is she alright?” He asked next, frantically searching their eyes. 

“No Neville. We haven’t.” The youngest Weasley brother said to them. 

He knew he was letting his anger get the best of him. Not anger at Neville, but at the situation he, Harry, and Ginny have been put in. More importantly, the unknown situation that Ron can only imagine is a grueling hell that Hermione’s in. 

Neville takes a shaky breath, “I’m sorry if I’ve done something to upset you Ron.”

Suddenly he feels guilty, but can’t bring himself to justify his behavior. 

“Ron’s just a little upset, him and Hermione never got to say goodbye.” Ginny commented softly, placing a gentle hand on Neville’s arm. 

“I’m sorry mate,” and again, Neville’s apology feels wrong, like the roles should be reversed, “tell me you sorted everything out with her, yeah?” He asked hopefully. 

Nothing came from the ginger but a rough growl, anger displacing his sadness yet again. 

Sensing as much, Ginny piped up with raised eyebrows and a tone that left no room for argument, “Ron, don't you have a prefect’s meeting?” 

And he did. Normally Hermione would drag him there ten minutes early, but this is how things are now. She’s not here. 

Wordlessly, he stood and exited the compartment, needing some time to breathe. The distraction. 

The only thing that registered were Harry, and Ginny’s voices assuring Neville he did no wrong as they continued their elaborate lie. 

Not wanting to think about all that’s wrong, he let his body go on auto pilot to the prefects car. Just as he reached it, a body knocked into him. 

“Sorry.” They said. 

Turning to investigate he was left mouth agape because Draco Malfoy had apologized for bumping into him. 

“Sorry?” He repeated. 

Draco said nothing but instead pushed on into the compartment and moved to talk to Katie Bell, who seemed to pass back from her poisoning. 

Ron remained outside for a little, mentally preparing himself for the barrage of questions that’s bound to come about his absentee partner. Another thing that also remains in the back of his mind is Draco Malfoy’s behavior, something  he’ll have to catalogue and look into later.

After all, his father is a Death Eater. His Aunt is Bellatrix Lestrange. 

Not realizing he’d been lingering for five minutes, he soon entered behind Ernie Macmillan. 

The first five minutes of the meeting dragged on. He spent most of his time observing an uncharacteristically quiet and squirming Draco Malfoy. 

Maybe he was spending too much time with Harry. Looking into something as simple as an apology and now he’s suddenly got a hundred different scenarios conjured up that involve the blonde git holding Hermione somewhere. Torturing, mocking, hurting her. 

It drives him wild with rage, but he knows it’s something just capitalizing on. Something he’s determined to fixate on just to distract him from the Order’s failed attempts to bring in Hermione. 

But would it do more harm than good raising suspicions with Malfoy? On the very off chance he is right, asking could only-

“And because of Hermione not being here. We’ve rearranged the schedule a bit for you Ron.” 

His eyes instantly snap to Katie’s at the mention of her name. It’s used in such a nonchalant, casual manner. Everyone at the Burrow has just been referring to Hermione as ‘she’ for the better part of a week. 

All he can do is deafly nod in response. His ears suddenly ringing, with all thoughts of Malfoy leaving his brain. He feels like for the first time since it all happened, the weight of his much everything is going to change is now laying on his shoulder as heavy as ever. 

No more prefect rounds. No more doing homework in the common room. No more dining hall. No more classes. Hell, even no more of him watching her ignore him. Even that was better than this. 

And on top of it all, to everyone around him, he had to appear as if that were okay. That he could survive without Hermione, that it wasn’t killing him. 

Surely he’s already failed at that, he could barely speak to Neville without biting his head off. 

As much as all of these dark thoughts swim in his brain, he knows he needs to remind himself that this isn’t forever. That Hermione will come home and they can do all those things again. 

He tells himself this over and over, despite knowing that if, when, she comes home, things will never be the same. 

For the remainder of the meeting the only thing that rings in his head are those three horrid words she spoke before vanishing. 

Come find me. 

  Over and over playing out in his head. He’s so distracted, he’s failed to notice the cart is not vacant, save for Katie, and the meeting over. 

“-go.” He hears her say. 

Soon he shakes his head, “sorry what?” 

“I said you can go, Ron.” The brunette seventh year says. 

“Oh right, sorry.” Quickly he moves to exit the compartment. 

“Bye Ron, like I said, let me know-“ 

He stopped abruptly, something just now dawning on him. Not even able to focus on the fact apparently she’d been having a full blown conversation with him. 

“Hey Katie?” He halts, voice rather shaky. 

“Yes Ron?” She asked with a quirked brow, almost sensing his unease. 

“How did you know about Hermione?” He asked almost forcefully, “that she’s taking some time uh, away.” The ginger managed softer, willing himself not to cry. 

“Oh, well Draco told me.” She responded like it was the most simple thing in the world, like that would make sense. 

“He did?” Ron asked rather taken aback. 

Katie nodded, “sure. He said he’d heard she was spending time with her folks,” her voice dropped into a whisper, “I had around the tower her Grandma was ill.”

Not wanting to give himself away Ron just nodded shakily, “right.” 

Still, how did Malfoy know she wouldn’t be here? Could Harry have been right... no there’s no way. He’s a tosser! What would You-Know-Who want from him? Fashion advice? 

Noting the far off look on his face, the Head Girl spoke again, “hey if you’re worried about doing this alone we can always get someone to help until-“ 

“No!” He jumps in quickly, rather loudly too, “no, I mean, I’ll be fine.” The ginger covers up 

Still looking skeptical Katie nodded and offered a weak smile before vacating the compartment. 

He needed to find Malfoy right now

[dontreadthistrashgarbage]

Pt. 4

A.C.E had been armed with their self cams and set free to roam with Minseok, Charlie and Guerin. Charlie was in her uniform and acted as the guide. Throughout the tour of the zoo a few Choice recognized A.C.E and got selfies but nothing of note happened besides Seyoon attempting to communicate telepathically with a Gambian pouched rat after Guerin compared the two visually. He failed and settled for a selfie instead.

Minseok drove all of them back to Beat Interactive in the company van. They spent the drive looking through the selfies and videos that had been taken.

"Jun, I don't remember you taking this picture." Guerin said innocuously, "You look so good though." She handed the phone to Donghun next to her.

"You've never looked better." Donghun grinned, passing the phone along to Chan as Byeongkwan peered from behind with Charlie. The three just laughed before handing the phone to Seyoon. A broad smile erupted across his face as Jun leaned over, confused.

A toadhead lizard on the screen gazed back from the photo. Jun's expression blanked and he turned to stare out of the window as Guerin finally lost her cool and guffawed loudly with Donghun from in front.

"I can see the resemblance." Charlie giggled. Jun's head whipped around to stare in disbelief, "No no in a good way, it's cute!" She defended, covering her face to hide the smile that wouldn't leave.

Jun's head lolled back onto the headrest and he groaned as the van came to a stop. Minseok turned back from the drivers seat, ignoring the chaos of the seven adults and rolled his eyes.

"I've got to grab some work so if you guys want a ride back to the dorm just hang out a bit. Charlie, Guerin, you two are good from here?" He asked.

"Hyung!" Jun's head popped up, "You'd make women walk home on their own?"

"Normally I'd be worried but considering certain company," Minseok gestured obviously toward Guerin, "I'm not sure what help I would be."

Guerin laughed, "We'll be fine, I can take Charlie home and go from there."

"Don't you live in opposite directions?" Chan asked, concerned.

"Yeah but-" Guerin was interrupted.

"That's silly, Jun why don't you walk Charlie home." Donghun suggested.

"Seyoon, you should walk Guerin. We have some work to do but let's just meet up back at the dorm." Byeongkwan added with a shrug. Guerin froze, not wanting to protest since she knew Charlie would love being walked home by Jun but for some reason nervous about being alone with Seyoon. [For some reason, maybe cause he is too attractive for you to function] her evil inner voice called her out.

"That sounds fine." Jun had perked up, looking at Charlie with a smile, who smiled back at him for a moment before looking shyly to the ground. Guerin glanced at Seyoon who was watching Byeongkwan with an indecipherable blank expression. Minseok rolled his eyes again, "Whatever you want, just cover up and call if there's trouble."

Everyone traipsed out of the van and went their separate ways. Guerin had gone with a natural makeup look to avoid standing out again, sticking with a plain black mask and ball cap. Seyoon was still made up from the filming but had slid on a hooded jacket and wore the usual mask.

It was only a fifteen minute bus ride and walk back to Guerin's apartment and it was busy enough that they blended in easily with the crowds of other commuters. They passed the time talking about the zoo with Guerin sharing insights from her past experience with the field. Seyoon was curious but didn't ask for more details.

As they approached her apartment building Guerin glanced up and froze, Seyoon one step slower, looked back at her. She was squinting at the entranceway of a figure leaning against her building next to the door. Seyoon followed her gaze, eyes landing on the still form, head down and hands in pockets. Instinctively he stepped in front of Guerin until he heard her speak.

"Seungbin?" She asked in disbelief. Hearing his name the boy looked up from under his hat, eyes red and puffy. Guerin moved past Seyoon who followed her automatically. As soon as Seungbin looked at Guerin his eyes filled with tears and he walked quickly to meet her, hugging her tightly and crying.

"Noonaaaa." He whimpered through tears. Guerin hugged him back for a moment before pulling back and looking around quickly.

"Oh little one let's get inside so we can talk okay?" She asked, a slight edge of concern to her voice. Seyoon didn't even consider leaving and the three of them went inside. Guerin settled her guests in the living room, brought over bottles of water for everyone then sat down next to the youngest member of HEET. Seyoon was still watching impassively as Guerin put her arm around the hiccuping Seungbin.

"Honey what are you doing here? Are you okay?" She asked him, dabbing at his face with tissues she had brought over. Seungbin tucked his face into her shoulder.

"I missed you Noona. We haven't seen you since the police station." His eyes continued to leak tears onto her shirt and she gave up on the tissue just hugging him and looking a bit misty eyed herself.

"Oh sweetie I know. That was really scary wasn't it?" He nodded into her shoulder, sniffling again. "And you've probably heard of some of the stuff people have been saying haven't you?" She leaned her head against the top of his, making eye contact with Seyoon and wincing. He gestured to show he was okay.

Seungbin pulled back from Guerin, "Those people aren't right! They're spreading lies! And the company won't let us say anything, they're just letting them say those bad things about you!" He said, frustrated and teary. Guerin was touched that he was so moved on her behalf, and also kicking herself for not predicting how much the boys would be by the sudden changes, especially with a lack of information. She turned to face him, crossing her legs under her and taking his hands.

"You're the sweetest, Seungbinnie. I'm so sorry you weren't given more information." She bounced his hands, "I don't know how much I can tell you as far as details go, but I do think I can tell you we aren't doing nothing. For legal reasons we can't share too many details until the prosecution is done with their investigation and we wrap up the case." Seungbin looked up cautiously.

"Does that mean when everything is done you can be our manager again?"

"As of right now me not being a manager is only supposed to be temporary." Guerin said with a small smile and nod. "But part of the reason that I can't be your manager right now is we are concerned someone might try to target me in a misdirected attempt to protect HEET." Seungbin looked upset and opened his mouth to speak but Guerin shook her head, "The most important thing to me is that you boys are safe and taken care of, even if it means I can't be the one to do it."

She let go of his hands, wiping his tears with her thumbs then fixing his hair and pinching his cheeks, which he made an unconvincing effort to pull away from. She giggled and tickled his neck which made him laugh and cringe away, but after a moment he frowned again.

"Noona, does that really mean we can't see you at all? I know all of us miss you, even if they don't all say it like me."

"I don't know. But why don't you let me ask Han Jisoo if maybe we can meet up sometimes inside the company? Would that be okay?" Guerin suggested. Seungbin looked thoughtful then nodded slowly. "Good boy." She patted his head adoringly and he leaned into it with a small smile. "Now I dont know how you got here but let me call the company and get your manager to pick you up okay?"

Seumgbin scowled "Temporary manager." He said with a pout.

"Hey, be nice. Woojin is nice and trying his best. It's not his fault, okay?" Guerin said, tapping his forehead lightly. Seungbin sighed and nodded again.

"Alright, I'll be right back." Guerin excused herself and left to make the call, leaving Seyoon and Seungbin alone. Seungbin took a drink from his water bottle and looked at the still quiet Seyoon who was focusing silently on the coffee table in front of him as he pondered what he had just witnessed. Guerin had looked... well when she was being reassuring and playful it had made his heart race. She was very good at her job and took good care of those around her. He was impressed. Well, maybe not just impressed...

Before he could travel down that train of thought much longer Seungbin spoke up, "Sorry Hyung... did I... interrupt... were you two on a date?"

Seyoon jumped, eyes wide he looked at Seungbin. "Oh, no! A.C.E had a schedule at the zoo with Charlie and Guerin tagged along."

Seungbin frowned, "I'm jealous. You get to spend time with Noona." He paused and crunched the bottle, "You're not trying to steal her as a manager are you? I think I'd prefer if you were dating."

Seyoon choked on the sip of water he had taken and coughed, trying to think of a response. He was saved by Guerin returning.

"Seyoon please don't die in my apartment, I don't think that would look good for my record." She joked, patting him on the back lightly before moving back to Seungbin.

"Young man, you didn't tell anyone you were leaving." Seungbin looked chastised.

"I knew they would try and stop me."

"Everyone was very worried, with everything that's gone on. I told Woojin I'd scold you." She raised her eyebrows, "I don't think the adults are blameless here but will you promise me that in the future you'll tell someone you trust where you are?" Seungbin nodded quietly.

"Okay, I trust you to be safer next time." She ruffled his hair lovingly. "Woojin is coming to pick you up. He also said that for now you can all use his phone to contact me when you want to chat okay? So please don't give him a hard time anymore, he is doing his best and he wants you all to do well."

The three of them spent the time talking about the trip to the zoo, Seungbin making Guerin promise to take them too, before Woojin came to the door for Seungbin. He hugged Guerin tightly before leaving and she kissed the top of his head affectionately before ushering him out. He stopped one more time looking back at Seyoon as though he wanted to say something, then looked to Guerin, sighed, said goodbye and left with his frazzled looking new manager.

"Did you two fight?" Guerin asked, closing the door behind them.

Seyoon shrugged sheepishly, "He's worried about losing you, and you got the spend the day with A.C.E." he selectively shared.

"I see." She nodded, unusually quiet now that Seungbin was gone. She headed back to the living room and collapsed on the couch with a sigh. Seyoon followed awkwardly, not sure if he was also expected to leave and very aware that it was just the two of them in Guerin's apartment. Sitting on the couch next to her he pressed his fingertips together and leaned forward before speaking.

"So... are you okay?" He asked.

"Yeah." She replied automatically.

"Noona..." Seyoon said disbelievingly, turning his head to look at her with an expression matching his tone.

Guerin smiled wanly, "Sorry, it's a habit." She sighed and sat up a bit straighter, "I know I can share it's just... gaaaah." She kicked her legs in frustration, "It's hard." Her eyes met Seyoons again and the unconvincing smile returned, "I'm sad." Her eyed welled with tears and she put her arm across her eyes, "I'm so sad. I feel so bad. I was so caught up in everything that I didn't realize how HEET must feel too. I actually agreed that it would be better for them to not know the details of everything."

As Guerin spoke Seyoon tentatively reached his hand to hers, hesitated, then took it gently, soothingly giving it a squeeze and rubbing his thumb against her skin. She twitched at the contact but then squeezed his hand back, "It's so dumb, I know they go on their fan cafe, the vlive and official sns to check comments. I should have known they'd be bothered and upset."

He waited a moment to make sure she was done, grabbed a couple tissues with his free hand, then tugged lightly on her hand, "Sit up."

Guerin peeked at him from under her arm, eyes red and face streaked with tears. She pulled her mask back up then went along with him. He raised an eyebrow and gave a classic Seyoon smirk before pulling it down right away, when she started to protest he just put the tissue in her mouth and reached for another.

"No d- pppbbbtt! what the hell?" She laughed in shock, pulling the tissue out of her mouth.

"You don't have to hide your face." He responded simply, turning back to her to Dan her face, "I can't wipe your tears if it's all covered anyway."

She stared at him in disbelief before laughing again, shoving his hand away and taking the tissue from him, swiping at her own face, "You're such a weirdo."

"You're the one eating tissues." He countered with a mischievous grin.

"Oh you little-" she grabbed the box of tissues and moved as if to hit him with it. He laughed and raised his hands to block her, finally dropping his hold on her since he had reached out. She tsked at him and dropped the box, "I can't hurt you, you need your pretty face to make a living."

He shot finger hearts at her and she fell back, clutching her heart, "No stop, it's too cute! Aaahhh..."

"I win." He stated proudly with a wink.

"Enough enough, I'm weak and fragile right now." Guerin protested, sitting up again straining as though she was out of energy.

"Noona..." Seyoon began, pausing to take her hand again. She looked down at it and back up at him, surprised and confused. What was he doing this for? This prolonged contact with him was pleasant but torturous at the same time. Was he just being comforting, is this what he is like with everyone? Her thoughts raced right along with her heartrate.

"You did your best. Even if things didn't turn out perfect, they'll be okay now. And next time you have more information to make a better decision. Don't be so hard on yourself. You did good." He squeezed her hand once more then reached up to pet her head reassuringly. She flinched when he reached up initially but as his hand lingered for a moment she leaned her head into the affectionate pat, eyes closed with a satisfied smile.

"Thanks Seyoonie." She mumbled. As her eyes opened their gazes met again and the intimacy of the contact struck them like an embarrassing memory from a decade ago while you're trying to sleep. Guerin sat up straighter and pulled away while Seyoon dropped his hand and faced forward again.

"Ah, I've kept you late. You probably need to head back." Guerin stood up abruptly.

"Oh... oh yeah, probably." Seyoon said sounding noncommittal. He stood more slowly and Guerin led the way to the door.

"Thanks for walking me home, and... thanks for hearing me out again." She smiled, embarrassed, looking down as she opened the door and leaned against it.

"You can talk to me any time." He shrugged. "Unless it's about your weird tissue eating habit I dont want to hear about that." Guerin let out a scoff at the wrong moment as he managed to poke another tissue into her mouth, "Bye!" He turned and trotted down the stairs quickly as she spat the tissue out again.

"WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS!" she laugh yelled after him before remembering neighbors existed and shut up, closing her door quietly.

"You've never been to karaoke?" Jun asked Charlie in disbelief.

She shrugged as they walked next to each other toward her apartment, "I'm no singer, and it's different in the states. Most places are just in front of a whole bar and not private rooms..." she trailed off.

"You should try it though! It's fun! Even people that aren't good at singing can have fun with karaoke with the right friends." Jun turned so he was walking sideways to face her.

"Easy for you to say, you have an incredible voice." She protested.

"You think I'm a good singer?" He beamed from under his mask proudly, now walking backwards slightly in front of her.

"You're a professional singer of course you sound amazing. And dancing-" she stopped herself, not wanting to admit to perusing a few fancams she had watched since they had met.

"Dancing?" His eyebrows raised and his eyes glinted, "You've seen me dancing? When?"

"I- yeah. I mean... yeah there's... you just had a comeback and I liked your music so-" Charlie stammered as she cast around for the words that wouldn't be awkward, but his focused gaze on her and his smile even when it was hidden had her distracted. Fortunately an obstacle gave her the subject change she needed.

"Watch out!" She cried out in English, grabbing his arm and yanking him toward her. By walking backwards he had almost backed into a streetlight. His startled expression was easy to see as he recovered from the sudden interruption. He looked at the offending street lamp, then down to Charlie and decided that given the proximity between them her rescue had significantly decreased, maybe it wasn't so offensive afterall.

Her eyes met his for a moment before she blushed and looked away, "Sorry... you should watch where you're going though."

"You saved me!" He cooed and moved to stand next to her, closer than before.

"Yeah and I shouldn't have to, you're a grown man." She tsked at him, trying to play it cool but very aware at how his closeness as they walked meant their hands kept idly bumping each others.

"That's true. I am a grown man." He said simply. The implication of his statement made her pulse race and her blush linger and she could only hope he didn't notice.

He did notice. But he was nice enough to not say anything about it.

"Sooo... My members and I were thinking of going to karaoke later this week. You should come experience it." He tried for casual, "Maybe Guerin can come too if it would make you feel better." He added as she hesitated.

"...Yeah. It could be fun." She agreed, trying not to give away how eager she was to be making future plans with him. She giggled as he bounced happily beside her, a big grin on his face, "But I am not going to promise to sing, I'll just listen to you professionals."

"I won't make you do anything you don't want to!" He promised, grinning. Their hands brushed against each others again.

[sanjuno]

This started as a joke, but Dragon!Skies 😅

(Ideas of March Prompt Fill 9/15)

It was impossible to hide a Sky when they manifested, given the way they were immediately encased in an indestructible crystalline eggshell that glittered and shone with a thousand shades of the Rainbow. There was some debate, in the Alliance, over which Sky had cracked their shell at the youngest age. Xanxus di Vongola had already manifested and learned how to control his Flames when he was taken in off the streets at eight. Still, some of the Giglio Nero Donna’s had Manifested that young too. Reborn glared at the pathetic excuse for a personality profile Bakamitsu had dropped into his hands and wondered what the gossips would say if they learned the Young Lion’s spawn had cracked his shell at four.

/…/

Reborn had not quite known what to expect when he arrived in Namimori to teach Sawada Tsunayoshi the laws and customs of his father’s culture so that the boy could take his place as the Vongola Heir. The CEDEF report had listed Tsuna as easily distracted, high-strung, shy, and constantly anxious. Whatever Reborn had thought to expect, it was nothing like this.

A young Misty Cloud was snarling at him, with a smallish army of lesser Flames following his lead. The Sky Reborn had come here to teach was all-but smothered in the arms of two girls, a Sunny Mist and a Misty Lightning respectively. Just in front of the huddle a Misty Rain bounced a sword against his shoulder, smiling like a natural hitman, and a Misty Sun cracked his wrapped knuckles with a shining grin, both with hints of Lightning crackling through them. Behind the main cluster a Stormy Cloud stood with her feet planted and arms crossed, scowl firmly on her face. She was the only one bound directly to the Sky without a hint of Mist in her.

This was bad. Reborn was no good with unanchored Mist-magnets. Although he was going to look into what had made his new student so determined to hide from reality, that would have to wait. Right now Reborn needed a way to get his new student to focus without drifting back into the Dreaming a Sky with too many Mists was prone to.

What to do?

Hm. Perhaps Reborn should try going the traditional route. The Japanese liked tradition, right?

Now, who did Reborn know that would be a shiny enough distraction for a Sky of Tsuna’s potential strength?

… Ah. Yes, that would do nicely.

/…/

At first Reborn had debated dropping the bait in front of Tsuna in class, but as hilarious as that might have been at another time, nothing Tsuna had done so far was in any way predictable. As much as Reborn was enjoying both the chaos that followed his new student and the challenge of figuring out Namimori’s secrets, Reborn would never risk actually breaking Omertà.

So Reborn decided to do some creative editing with his first idea and rewrote the scene he had initially had in mind for maximum effect.

/…/

At first Tsuna had no idea what to make of his new home tutor. Reborn was tiny as an infant but was actually older than Tsuna’s parents and the first thing Reborn had tried to do was shoot him in the head and if Kyouya-sempai had been even a little bit slower… 

Reborn insisted that the bullets would not have killed him, but Tsuna really, really did not want to be shot even non-fatally by someone who was visibly plotting messy murder every time Tsuna’s dad came up in the conversation. Sure, Reborn was better about treating Tsuna fairly now that they had gotten to know each other a bit better, but Tsuna still could not shake the feeling that if Tsuna had been a disappointing student Reborn would have taken his dislike for Iemitsu out of Tsuna’s hide. What was strange, and also worrisome, to consider was that Reborn was apparently here as a favour for Tsuna’s father. Why Reborn was doing favours for a man he visibly and verbally disdained was a question Tsuna was not certain he wanted answered.

If Tsuna got too nosy then Reborn might stop being polite about Tsuna’s secrets, and Tsuna’s secrets were not just about him. So Tsuna was content to let the unspoken truce hold.

“Let’s go, Tsuna.” Reborn toddled cheerfully towards the park, and Tsuna felt a sudden chill when he realized that all of his treasures were nowhere nearby. “We have a meeting.”

“Wait, Reborn!” Someone only less than two feet tall should not be capable of dragging four times their bodyweight down the street. This was unfair. Tsuna squeaked as he tripped and scrambled to stay upright. “What meeting?”

“A personal meeting.” Dark eyes gleamed from under the shade of his fedora, and Reborn smirked before letting Tsuna go. “Watch and learn something, Dame-Tsuna.”

/…/

There was a slim figure lounging in the shade of a sakura tree, dapples of light catching on silver chains and coloured stones. “Reborn.”

“Smoking Bomb.” Reborn hopped down off Tsuna’s shoulder to approach the younger hitman. Normally Reborn liked to work his students into a frenzy first to teach them how to think through their initial instinct to panic, but Tsuna was the type to need plain statements. So while the idea all but gave Reborn hives, he was going to show his silly student that someone Tsuna’s own age could earn and keep respect in their world before he started training Tsuna to fight. “You made good time.”

“You made me an offer worthy of a little extra effort.” Stepping out into the light, the explosive expert’s narrowed green eyes raked over Tsuna with clear interest. “A new student?”

“You see now why I asked for speed.” Reborn hid his triumph as the bomber hummed absently and handed over the information Reborn had asked him to gather. Pulling the strings to get Shamal’s protege to come to Namimori personally had been worth it, especially since Reborn had taken the calculated risk of not mentioning he was tutoring a Sky. Smoking Bomb was clearly interested in Tsuna despite managing to stay professional. That was almost secondary to the report the younger hitman had put together on the state of the Alliance and and a bluntly analytical profile on Sawada Iemitsu. This was the kind of report Reborn had been expecting from the CEDEF. “Hm. You do good work, Smoking Bomb. The money will be in your account by tonight, and I will ask my daughter if she would like to meet with your sister.”

“It’s appreciated, Reborn.” Business concluded, there was no reason to linger and every reason to leave, but the silver haired teen hesitated, just as Reborn had expected. The silence stretched just a bit to long as Smoking Bomb stared at Reborn’s student with intent eyes. Finally, the younger hitman shook his head. “Name’s Gokudera Hayato, called the Smoking Bomb. I work freelance, so if you need a job done Reborn can put you in touch with me. Ciao.”

Inclining his head in a quick acknowledgement, the silver haired teen moved to depart before he embarrassed himself. Reborn saw the regret sear itself across Tsuna’s face and took the shot.

Bang!

Gokudera whirled around, face slack with horror as the Sky crumpled.

One knee on the ground, Tsuna’s hand closed around the bomber’s wrist. Gokudera froze in place, arms still out to catch the other boy. 

Reborn peered up at his student in confusion. Tsuna had been oddly quiet since the first time Gokudera had spoken, and now that he had finally managed to hit Tsuna with the special bullet Reborn had been expecting more in the way of ardent declarations. There were no Flames, and Tsuna’s clothes had remained intact. Instead of Hyper Dying Will mode, Tsuna was giving off the impression of a sealed pot set to boil, building pressure that was about to…

BOOM!!

… explode. On his back in the bushes several meters from where he had been standing, Reborn blinked rapidly as his ears rang in the aftermath of Tsuna going up like a small atom bomb made of Flames. Ow.

/…/

Mine. 

Rusted chains falling away, too-small cage finally broken open. 

Mine.

Free for the first time since his father and the old man had tried to damp his inner fire.

Mine.

His heart beating all out of rhythm as he scrambled to catch the fragile treasure fallen into his grasp without causing damage. Something precious and unique, old hurts gleaming silver and gold where the scars had healed over.

“Mine.” Tsuna curled in on himself, wanting to gather his new treasure close but terrified of sending shattered pieces scattering into dust. “Please?”

Sprawled out in the gentle cradle of Tsuna’s paws, Gokudera was a crimson opal, fractals of violet-blue-green-gold flaring in brilliant colour against the amber of Tsuna’s claws. “… Eh?”

“Please?” A whine was building in Tsuna’s throat. How was he supposed to ask? His other treasures had always been his. They had helped Tsuna chip away at the fetters his father had laid on Tsuna’s inner fire. They had been there to help despite Tsuna being crippled and weak. He was supposed to defend his hoard, but they defended Tsuna too. Tsuna had the best hoard, and he had never before considered wanting more but… “Mine.”

“… my Sky is a UMA?” Pale, scarred fingers pressing against Tsuna’s muzzle, patting gently like his pretty treasure thought Tsuna might reject the touch. The silver haired teen was mumbling in strange tongues even as he relaxed into the Harmony Tsuna offered, touch growing more sure as Tsuna pulled Gokudera closer. 

Rumbling happily, Tsuna coiled up around the newest member of his hoard and simply basked smugly in his triumph. Tsuna had the best hoard. He bet nobody else had a treasure with five colours. Ha!

/…/

Up a nearby tree and not planning to climb down any time soon, Reborn stared in utter shock as the giant supernatural lizard that was supposed to be his student cuddled the Hurricane of Flames most of the gossip painted as too complicated to ever properly bond. Well, Tsuna was happily proving them wrong, even if he did currently look like something that belonged in an illuminated book of fairy tales.

Sure, Skies hatched from eggs when they woke their Flames and they were jealous of their Guardian’s attention and tended to collect large amounts of wealth, but… yeah. Never mind, Reborn was not even convincing himself that this was impossible.

What the hell had caused the transformation though? Reborn had shot other Skies with the special bullets, and none of them had physically transformed into dragons. What was different about Tsuna? What the fuck else had Bakamitsu left out of his report?

/…/

Half a world away, an old man ruled his Family with a kind smile and an iron Will. He hoped Reborn took to young Tsunayoshi. While it was regrettable that he had needed to Seal the child back then, at the time it had been for the greater good of the Family. A Sky that pure and that strong would have attracted too much attention and destabilized the succession. The situation with Xanxus had been bad enough, and he as still dealing with the fallout from the public backlash of claiming the boy even years later. 

Still, Reborn would be able to teach Tsunayoshi enough to get by as the new Heir despite the Seal. It was a moot point anyway. Hyper Dying Will mode would break the Seal on Tsunayoshi’s Flames, and Reborn would be able to claim the credit for the boy’s eventual strength.

After all, the only ones who knew Tsunayoshi had woken his Flames once before were Iemitsu and himself, and Iemitsu knew better than to spread that information around. Sealed or latent, who would be able to tell after Tsunayoshi was Active without knowing that little fact? It would all work out for the better this way.

/…/

Under the Iron Fort, a glacier strung with chains sat in the centre of the darkened catacombs. The ice shuddered, cracked.

Shattered. 

Ice vanished into steam as a nightmare of blood-amber scales unfurled massive wings with a scream of enraged triumph.

=/=

So it turns out that sealing an Active Sky equals dragons when the seal goes away! The More You Know.

Welcome to the Godzilla Threshold, Timoteo. *blows kisses*

[thegreatskywhale]

D&D character concept: An Elven child, at the human equivalent of 13-14, who is a wild magic sorcerer. Elven children are very rarely seen outside of elven communities, and Bell is even weirder. Born to a pair of Noble High Elven parents, Bel'ir Ion was an oddity from birth, with purple, swirling, misty eyes. In his first few years is was clear he would become a powerful mage, his arcane aptitude being unfathomably high for his age. His parents began to train and instruct Bel to make him the strongest and most influential mages of their time, but something was always off. Despite his aptitude for learning and his close connection with arcane powers, Bel was incapable of crafting even the simplest of spells. His parents became increasingly frustrated with him and his laid back attitude. Many in their community believed they were pushing him to hard for his young age, but they were relentless. One day, during a practical magic training session something strange happened. Under immense stress and pressure, Bel snapped and unleashed an untold torrent of arcane energy, pure unbridled wild magics. Completely out of control the torrent raged, injuring many and destroying a large section of the courtyard. Not knowing what to do, Bel's parents locked him away until the Archmage could come and decide how to handle the boy. Bel, feeling true remorse and sorrow for the first time, scared of his own terrible power and his in ability to control it, fled the elven city. With no idea what to do, or even how to avoid guards, Bel discovered that though he cannot cast spells, he can will their effects to take place, at points where he needed a distraction, he would create one, though it could come in many form, illusionary figures, dancing lights, or a fire being set. Bel finds a way to hide, disguised as a halfling on a caravan heading away from the city. Bel survives by wandering and receiving handouts from kind strangers, or stealing what little food he needs. He's become adept at the art of magical disguises, though he has little direct control, he can very easily pretend to be human or halfling. Bel wanders the countryside like this for nearly a year, his chaotic magic protecting him wherever necessary. He tries whenever he can to practice or gain true control of his magic, but to no avail. Bel is a short childish elf with shoulder length blond hair and dirt rubbed into his face at most times, as if he's been playing. Being so young Bel has an very androgynous body, most non-elves cannot tell his gender at first. His attitude is always jovial, laid back and very curious, most things he's experiencing are for the first time. His most notable feature is his eye color, a deep purple that upon closer inspection appear to swirl as if they were made of mist. Bel is somewhat afraid of violence, but not debilitatingly so. The thing that makes him special is that he cannot properly control his magic, only what he's trying to do.

The thing that makes his weird to play is that since he cant control his magic, the player declares what they are trying to do, be it attack a target, attack an area, enchant an ally, or some other sort of action, then notes the number of spells that can accomplish this goal, and chooses one randomly. For example, Bel needs to attack a target, his target attack spells are: Chill Touch, Fire Bolt, Frostbite, Chaos Bolt, Magic Missile and Scorching Ray. They player will declare their that spell type, single targeted attack, and rolls a D6 in this case, as he has six spells that harm a single target (as Magic Missile and Scorching Ray can be used as both a single target or multi target), and rolls a 5. Bel then fires a magic missile, expending the spell slot, at the target. The point is to look at the problem and find all the spells that could solve that problem and randomly selected one. Maybe he needs to stop someone from chasing him, there are lots of ways to do this, prestidigitation, minor illusion, dancing lights, fog cloud, sleep, silent image, darkness, gust of wind, etc. Lay that on top of wild magic surge and you get a truly chaotic sorcerer.

I've always been underwhelmed by sorcerers mechanically, finding few reasons to pick them over wizards or warlocks, and so I decided to make a thematic extra mechanic to makes a sorcerer even more unique. And possibly with the right DM giving his access to extra spells given that he cannot choose what he's using or even allow him to access higher level magics in super intense situations it could be a super fun character and was to apply the idea that sorcerers aren't taught or given their powers, but just sort of have them, and that makes them super dangerous.

I make a lot of character concepts and back stories in my free time. And often when I'm at work on the night shifts. And I follow people who do D&D content, and one or two of them followed me back, so I though I could contribute to the community. Sorry if it's written poorly, it's 2 am, and I had a surge of inspiration and the desire to share it with you guys. If you like it and think I should do more please let me know, even if it's just by liking the post, cause seriously, I just write this stuff whenever and I saw no reason not to put it in here for other people to see and maybe be inspired by.

[randomactuallywrites-57]

Illusory Veil

Title: Illusory Veil Author: randomwriter57 Rating: G Word Count: 1,921 Event + Prompt: @sormikweek day five - Envy/Pride (Fog) Notes: as soon as i saw the prompts, the first thing i thought of was little miss misty. hence, a fic where she doesn't just make them fight clones of themselves. enjoy!

Summary: “So you say.” Mikleo summoned his staff, moving into a battle stance. “Care to prove your dedication, Shepherd?”

Also on: AO3

Maybe Sorey should have been more cautious.

To be fair, he’d been hesitant. As he and his companions walked through the depths of the Mount Mabinogio Ruins, venturing into each new room with a lingering sense of dread, the malevolence slowly coursing into their veins, they all knew something was bound to happen. There’s no way Heldalf or his followers would allow them to enter Camlann without trouble.

When they found a room which was locked to everyone but Sorey, he hadn’t seen another option. There was no other way forward.

“Don’t worry,” he said to his friends. They listened to his words, though they still looked hesitant. Even Edna had her umbrella down, shoulders hunched as she gave him a hard stare. “It’s just like with the crucibles, right? I’ll break through it, don’t worry.”

A soft punch to his shoulder grabbed his attention, and he turned to see Mikleo. His violet eyes were downcast, though they met his a moment later, filled with determination.

“You’d better come back,” Mikleo said.

Sorey let an easy smile cross his lips. “I will, I promise.”

After taking one last deep breath, Sorey headed through the doorway, passing the invisible barrier which kept the others from entering. The door closed behind him, cloaking his surroundings in darkness.

He was alone.

All he sensed was the familiar damp mustiness of an age-old ruin, combined with the nausea of growing malevolence. The scent of the moss and nature clashed against the stench of despair. He felt a little sick as the happy memories of his past mixed together with the chaos of the present.

He made his way through the corridor into a larger chamber, where the torches on the walls lit up the moment he stepped into the room. A low fog drifted over the ground, barely visible, clinging to his boots. Letting his hand hover over the hilt of his sword, he waited for something to come out from the darkness at the other end of the chamber, keeping his eyes fixed on that wall.

A voice spoke from behind him.

“Sorey.”

He froze. That voice was one he’d known all his life, one he’d heard only minutes ago, had left behind a door, safe in the company of the rest of their friends. There was no way he could be here.

And yet, when Sorey turned around, he saw Mikleo standing at the doorway, his face painted with concern, brows brought low over his eyes.

“We need to talk,” said Mikleo, his voice wobbling.

Sorey frowned. “Talk? Is now really the best time?”

“I asked the others to do this so we’d have a minute alone,” Mikleo said. “We should be safe here. So please, listen.”

Something made Sorey’s stomach twist at Mikleo’s tone. It didn’t make sense, that Mikleo would tell him to stay safe before he entered the room if he already knew it would be safe. Besides, there’s no way Mikleo would pick a time like this to have a conversation with him.

This had to be fake.

“Cut it out, Symonne,” Sorey said, sensing that this must be the cause. “I don’t have time for your games.”

Mikleo’s face crumpled in hurt, and his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “You don’t even recognise me enough to talk, even when it’s important. No wonder you didn’t want me to be your sub lord.”

“What? No, we’ve been over this, I- Symonne!”

“Well, you know what?” Mikleo said. His voice turned to a bitter tone, and he met Sorey’s eyes with a glare the likes of which Sorey had never seen Mikleo point at anyone. “I never thought you made a good Shepherd anyway. Always too idealistic, too naive. Why was it you, in the end? Why not someone who actually stood a chance of saving the world?”

Sorey’s throat constricted, but he swallowed his emotions. As much as it hurt to hear these words in Mikleo’s voice, it was clear this wasn’t him. “I’m doing what good I can for the world.”

“Am I in your way?” Mikleo spat. “As always. You never cared about me. All you care about is yourself and your image. The perfect, pure Shepherd.”

“What are you trying to say?” Sorey said, concern filling him.

Mikleo’s eyes burned with hatred. “I can’t believe I ever thought I loved you.”

His words - Symonne’s words - were an obvious ploy. She spat vitriol, hoping it would make him breed malevolence. Already she had played this game several times and lost, and he wouldn’t lose this time either.

But those words stung more than anything, like being inflicted with paralysis. They bit into his open wounds, seeping venom into his muscles.

He had to be stronger than this.

“Say what you like,” Sorey said, trying to keep the pain out of his voice. “But you can’t lie and make me think you’re being truthful.”

“Of course you’d say that,” Mikleo said, eyes flashing. “You never believe me. You’ve never trusted in me or cared for me, and I doubt you ever loved me-”

“I do love you, Mikleo!” Sorey yelled, finally letting his emotions flow freely. “I am so, so proud of you. You’ve come so far during our journey, and I don’t regret for a second that you became my sub lord. The only thing I regret is waiting so long to let you join me.”

“So you would have my power on your side,” Mikleo spat. “It’s far easier to use a tool when you’re already intimately acquainted with it, isn’t that right?”

“You know that’s not true!”

“So you say.” Mikleo summoned his staff, moving into a battle stance. “Care to prove your dedication, Shepherd?”

As little as he wanted to fight, there was no way out of this. The door behind him had disappeared, and Mikleo didn’t look like he’d happily let Sorey pass.

With gritted teeth, Sorey grabbed his sword.

The illusion grinned, teeth gleaming in an unnerving way. In a moment he darted forward, staff at the ready.

Sorey didn’t hesitate. He blocked the attack, following with a counter which hit against Mikleo's staff. Mikleo pushed him off before stepping back, moving to quickly charge an arte. With no time to stop the casting of Twin Flow, it was all Sorey could do to dodge out of the way at the last moment.

Fighting this Mikleo was unpleasant for more than one reason. Though he and Mikleo constantly sparred in their youth, practising to make themselves stronger, this felt entirely different. There were tiny nuances in the timing of his attacks, inconsistencies in his movements, and a heavy atmosphere between them. Where their sparring matches were usually light hearted and purely for training and fun, this match was life or death. This Mikleo hit him with every ounce of his strength not because he wanted to grow stronger, but because of the hatred burning in violet eyes. Every blow was aimed to kill.

But these were the things which made Sorey remember the reality of the situation.

This was not the real Mikleo. This was an illusion.

At some point they parted, breathing heavily and watching the other with wary eyes. Mikleo’s chest heaved, his muscles limp. He lunged forward for a final blow, but Sorey easily shrugged it off, swinging his sword to cast his staff to the side. The fake Mikleo fell to the ground, defeated.

“Stop using my friends to get at me,” Sorey said. “If you have a problem, come out and face us head on.”

The Mikleo on the floor glowered up at him for a moment, then disappeared in a flash of light.

Suddenly, the room brightened into colour. The fog cleared, and the door appeared behind him as before.

Sorey allowed himself to relax, barely sheathing his sword before letting himself fall to his knees. Though the tension had lifted somewhat, the physical and emotional stress of fighting the likeness of the person he loved most made his legs feel like lead. Even if it was just for a moment, he needed to breathe, to let the tension seep out of tired muscles.

Except then the door opened, footsteps came rushing towards him, and in a moment cool hands rested on his shoulders, a voice speaking in his ear, asking if he was okay.

Sorey jerked out of Mikleo’s grasp.

Mikleo pulled back, his shoulders tensing up. “What happened?” he asked in a low tone.

But Sorey couldn’t answer. His mouth tasted like cotton, too dry to form words. Instead of speaking, he shook his head.

“Perhaps we should return to Elysia for now,” Lailah suggested from near the door. “Rest is good for the spirit, after all.”

It was only now that Sorey looked up to see his other friends with her, watching him warily. The only one he couldn’t see fully was Edna, who had her umbrella up, her back turned to him.

“You’re obviously tired,” she said. “Go home. Now.”

“Heldalf isn’t going anywhere,” Rose added.

Sorey pressed his lips together. As little as he wanted to give up now, he knew they were right. If he tried to fight in this condition, he would put everyone else in danger.

A pale hand appeared in front of him. “Let’s go home,” Mikleo said.

Despite everything, Sorey couldn’t bring himself to argue anymore. Reaching out, he took Mikleo’s hand.

“Sorey.”

He opened his eyes.

Darkness covered the bedroom. The only light came from the tiny window above his bed, a small stream of moonlight on the ceiling. No sound could be heard save for their breathing and his name, a breath on Mikleo’s lips.

It had been hours since they returned. At that time, Sorey headed straight for bed, making the excuse of being too tired to talk. The others thankfully let him go without question.

But he couldn’t sleep, especially not when Mikleo came through an hour after him, taking his usual place in bed beside him.

Sorey’s hands gripped the cover around him.

“Yeah?” he whispered after a moment.

Mikleo shifted, and only when he felt the words on the back of his neck did he know Mikleo faced him now. “Will you tell me what happened earlier?”

He opened his mouth, but the sensation from earlier returned. No words came out.

When he didn’t answer, Mikleo pressed on.

“Was it Symonne?”

Closing his eyes, Sorey nodded into the pillow.

A breath tickled the hairs on the back of his neck.

“I see.”

Silence filled the air. Mikleo’s breathing evened out against his skin, and Sorey opened his eyes again.

“You know I’m really grateful to you, right?” Sorey said, reminding himself that it was safe here. “That I’m glad you became my sub lord. That you’re here with me even at times like this.”

Mikleo leaned forward, his hair brushing against Sorey’s neck. “Of course I do.”

“And that I love you, and that I’m really proud of how far you’ve come?”

“Yes,” Mikleo said. “I feel the same way for you.”

A smile finally caught at Sorey’s lips at the warm way Mikleo spoke. He reached back and pulled Mikleo’s hand over him, squeezing it gently.

“Thank you, Mikleo.”

Shifting closer, Mikleo let his body meet Sorey’s back, supporting him.

“Don’t thank me,” he whispered. “Those are my true feelings. That’s all.”

Outside, the sky remained clear, stars piercing through the darkness. The two boys fell asleep in an embrace, comfortable in the security of home.

[noonanoowz-blog]

Bloodlines-Chapter 4

I got it up!  We did it!  

Warning: Violence and Kicking Ass!

The Lab Bros, as Jay called them, showed up in record time, sporting backpacks and masks and what looked like full hazmat suits.  They stepped inside, the shorter of the two snickering as he spotted Jay's naked chest.

"Of course Jay would use this opportunity to get naked," he quipped. “When in doubt, pecs out.”  

"Actually, the pecs are my fault," Zico said. ��"Phoenix got blood on her, and I wanted her to get it off before anything happened.  So I stripped Jay."  He gestured to where a bloody garment hung on the end of Jaehyo's sword.  "Her shirt is over there.  No one has touched it. And Kyung is...dead."  

Taeil’s eyes widen.  “Dead?”

“Yeah,” Zico said, looking away. “…dead.”

Taeil pursed his lips, and turned his gaze to Phoenix.  "Taeil," he said with a graceful bow.  "I'm going to need to look you over and get very personal, so I hope you're okay with that.”  And then to his cohort he added,  “P.O, get the fire started. Yukwon and Min, you suit up.  You all know the drill."

The twins, whom Phoenix had almost forgotten about, nodded, and took one of the backpacks from P.O.

“As for you, I’ll need you over here, please."  Taeil spread a large piece of plastic out on the floor and gestured for Phoenix to step onto it.  She did, and Taeil pulled up his mask, strapping on a pair of goggles and taking what looked like a geiger counter from the bag by his feet.  

"Just stand still," Zico said.  "It doesn't hurt."

"I wasn't really worried about that."  Phoenix twitched a little as Taeil's device crackled over her skin.  "But I am still in the dark about why this is even necessary."

"This disease is highly contagious," Taeil said.  "It can spread and infect its host very quickly.  My guess is Kyung probably consumed something tainted no more than 20 or 30 minutes before he changed,

"Consumed?  Like drank, or swallowed, or..."

"Yes," Zico said.  "But honestly, who knows? This shit is like herpes.  You touch it, you breathe it, you sit next to it and next thing you know..."  He held up his fingers in front of his mouth to pantomime a second set of fangs.  It would have been funny, but the haz-matted twins returned at that moment, carrying the mangled remains of Kyung's body.

"Outside."  The taller of the bros, P.O. as Taeil had called him, pointed toward the door.  "The gas can is by the dumpster.  Drop him on the plywood and light it up.  I'll bring out the shirt and the towels when I've finished cleaning up in here."

The twins nodded and shuffled out.  P.O. pulled out a device of his own along with a bottle of blue liquid and some rags and set to work.  

Taeil finished his scan and put his odd-looking geiger counter away.  "You're clean," he announced.  "I'm a little concerned about that scar on your left shoulder, but you're not carrying any evidence of the virus.  Still, make sure you shower as soon as you get home."

"That scar is old."  Phoenix stepped back onto the concrete floor.  "A couple years at least."

"Oh? Hm."  Taeil looked pensive for a split second, but then shook his head.  "Never mind then.  P.O.?"

"Yeah?"

"Whatcha got?"

Taeil left to go assist P.O. in his clean-up mission.  As he did, someone tapped Phoenix on the shoulder.

“Here." The small girl from earlier (Misty, her brain supplied), flanked by Tablo, was holding out a plaid, button-down shirt.  “This was in our car.  It should fit you.  Put it on over Jay’s tank so you don't get cold.”

“Thanks,” Phoenix went to say, but she was cut off by Zico shoving his way between them.

"Oi.  Don't go giving away people's clothes without asking!"  he snapped, snatching the shirt before Phoenix could grab it.  And then, just to be a twerp, he turned to Phoenix and said.  "Here, put this on over Jay’s tank so you don't get cold.”

“Thanks,” Phoenix said again.  “Do I want to know…”

“It’s not hers to give away, it’s mine,” Zico said.  “She’s a sneaky little thief.”

“You left the door unlocked!” Misty protested.

“You still took something that wasn’t yours!”  

Zico put his shirt over Phoenix’s bare shoulders.  

Phoenix slipped her arms into the sleeves and buttoned it up.  “What about Jay? Are we're just leaving Jay naked?” she asked.

"Jay likes to be naked," Zico said.

Jay nodded.  “But even if I didn’t, I'm undead.  I don't feel the cold.”

“Thanks for the reminder.  As if, after all this excitement, I could forget none of you are human.”

“Some of us are human,”  Tablo corrected, stepping between them.  “And if we're done with tonight's witty banter, can we step outside?  This human has some things he'd like to ask Jay and Zico about what happened."

"Yes, sir.  Sorry. sir." Phoenix inclined her head slightly in apology.  “I shouldn’t have said that.”

Behind Tablo’s back, Zico raised an eyebrow.  

"What?" Phoenix hissed when Tablo was past them. "He may not train me any more, but he's still my teacher.  I'm being respectful."

"Just impressed you haven't forgotten how to be respectful," Zico murmured.

Tablo’s presence was the only thing that stopped Phoenix from hitting him, though she was incredibly tempted to trip him as they went outside to where the fire was burning steadily under the twin's watchful eyes,

They stopped a safe distance back from the flames, forming a small semi-circle with Zico and Jay on one end, and the twins on the other.

Tablo sighed.  "Well, this isn't how I expected to spend my evening,” he said.  ”I was prepared to settle down with a nice cup of cocoa and a good book, but instead, I'm here witnessing the cremation of Zico's ex-boyfriend."

Phoenix looked over. ”Ex-boyfriend?”

Zico shrugged.  “I'm bi,” he said. “Who knew, huh?”

“Just about everyone except you.”  Tablo sighed again.  “However, that’s not why we’re here.  We’re here because I need for you two to explain how we reached this level of chaos.”

"Well," Jay said.  “It seems Kyung got into some bad blood.”

“So he did,” Tablo said. “And I could ask why and how, but mostly I want to know how many times you’ve witnessed this happen.”

“More lately,” Zico said.  “There were isolated incidents at first, but recently we had some of the young ones flip real fast, just like Kyung did.  P.O. figured out that burning the bodies kills the virus, and Taeil managed to make a sort of external cleaning solution, too, but tainted blood doesn't come off fabric or skin.  It only comes off  hard surfaces, like floors, or walls."

"Has anyone done an autopsy?" Tablo asked.  

"No," Jay said.  "The Superior won't allow it.  He wants to consult someone he knows over in Europe before we cut anyone open.  He told us that the night we lost Dae."

“Dae?”  Tablo questioned.��Are you talking about the warehouse fire?  The one that took out two city blocks?”

"Yeah," Zico said.  “Sorry about that.  It was a last resort.  There was so much blood, and we didn’t know what else to do.”  

"Dae..." Phoenix's brow furrowed.  "Are you talking about Daesung?  Because he works for..."

"Shhh!"  Zico clapped his hand over her mouth. Hard. "Don't say it.  Don't say his name.  Whatever you think you know, you probably do, but don't say it out loud.”

"Why?" Phoenix mumbled from behind Zico’s hand.    

"Because we’re not allowed to use his real name," Jay answered.  "Only his alias.”  

"But I'm right?"  Phoenix looked at Zico as Zico moved away.

"You're right."  Yukwon said from the other end of the line.  "It's the name you're thinking of.  That's him."  

"Please don't say it," Min added.  "Thinking it is enough.  Please."

"Why?" Phoenix asked again.

"Well, in Min's case, he’s kind of on the outs with the Superior this week,” Zico said with a smirk. "They've had a bit of a spat.”  Phoenix blinked as Min scowled.  "For the rest of us," he went on, "if we speak of him, he'll come.  And we don't have a good enough reason to bring him here."

"Murdering your boyfriend isn't a good enough reason?"  

"Not these days," Zico said.  "These days, it's about survival.  You do what you have to do when you have to do it."  

Tablo shook his head.  "I wish you'd contacted me sooner. If I had known it was this bad, I would have kept Misty as far away from you as humanly possible."

"But aren't I immune?" Misty asked.  "I'm not human, and I'm definitely not vampire."

"As far as we know, nobody is immune."  Yukwon was suddenly by Misty's side, a feat that was as impressive as it was creepy.  "We're all vulnerable, which makes everything that much scarier."  Yukwon brushed Misty's hair back behind her shoulder.  "Are you warm enough, Kitty?  Do you need to come closer to the fire?"  

"I'm fine,"  Misty said, avoiding all the suddenly-curious gazes. “I…my jacket is enough. Thank you.”

"So, back to <i>him</i>,”  Phoenix said, redirecting the conversation back to the topic at hand.  “If he is who we know I think he is, and I want to meet with him, how do I do it?"

"You don't," Jay said.  "Not if you want to live."

"Ha ha, you're cute," Phoenix said.  "Too bad I'm not talking to you.  Zico.  I want to meet with him.  How do I do it?"

"I...don't...know," Zico said.  "He...doesn't usually speak to humans.  Not unless he's thinking about eating them."

"Well, I'm going to being the exception to the rule, so I should….?”  

"Find Mino."  A new voice made them all jump and turn, and Phoenix could tell by Zico's reaction that he wasn't happy to see who had just joined their little bonfire party.  “]He took Mino.  So if you find Mino, you'll find him."  

"God dammit, who let these fucking kids out of the basement?" Zico started toward the newcomers before any more could be said. "Fucking Jaehyo!  I told him to check the lock before he left but he never listens..."

"Do you know where he took Mino?"  Phoenix shoved Zico aside, beating him to the person who had spoken.  He looked shaken, but unharmed, as did the other two boys with him.  

The speaker shook his head.  "I don't," he said.  "But I saw him lead Mino away.  We were in the car.  I tried to get out, but the twin terrors wouldn't let me.  And then I remembered.  He told me if he were ever in any kind of vampire trouble, you were the one he would call."  He pointed at Phoenix.  "He said you would come, and you'd know what to do."

Realization dawned slowly.  "You're Taehyun," Phoenix said.  “You left that message…”

“Yeah.  That was me,” Taehyun said.  "I'm...sorry."

"For what?"

"For not doing a better job protecting Mino. And for calling you back here."

Phoenix shook her head.  "Don't be sorry. Mino is usually perfectly capable of protecting himself, so if you needed me, I needed to come.”

“That guy killed Seungyoon."  The taller of the remaining two boys spoke up.  "If he killed Seungyoon, do you think he’s going to kill Mino, too?"

“He killed Seungyoon because you gave up Seungyoon," Zico interjected.  "He killed him because you turned him over.  You knew what was going to happen!"

"But Mino said you said that we had to turn him over or the four of us couldn’t stay together!”  The smaller boy with the wide, doe-eyes pointed at Zico.  "It was your idea."

"You still agreed to it!"  

“What choice did we have?”  

"Okay, okay.  I'm going to stop this argument right here.”  Tablo held up his hands, effectively silencing both sides.  "Zico, where were you planning on putting these boys tonight?"

"I was going to bring them back to the compound," Zico said.  "Why?"

"I'd like you to let them come with me.”

“With you? Why?”

“Because they look like they’ve had enough vampires for one evening.”

“We’ve had enough being passed around, too,” the tall boy said, folding his arms.  “Any chance we could get some say in where we go next?”

“No,” Zico said.  He pursed his lips as he turned his attention back to Tablo.  "Are you going to give them back?" he asked.

“Uh…yeah?  I’m not keeping them forever.  Just letting them get a good night's sleep.”

“So you’ll hand them over tomorrow?  Before sundown?”

"Of course," Tablo said.  "You have my word."

Tablo smiled.  Zico did not return the gesture.  The boys huddled together, and Phoenix tried to discern what Tablo was trying to accomplish with this unexpected plot twist.  But it wasn't obvious enough from his expression, and she was starting to feel too tired to want to pursue it, so she didn't.

"Well, if you're leaving, I'm leaving," she said instead.  "I'm tired, and I should probably make sure my place is still standing given how long I've been away."

"We'll meet back here tomorrow," Zico said.  "You, with my shirt, and Tablo with my boys."

"It's a date," Tablo said, and led Misty and his new charges away.  

[untttitled]

light at dawn

I’ve been going through my Google Docs and this is one that I typed up a few weeks ago. It’s not finished but I have the next parts outlined. I wanted to put this out here, I’m getting a little too excited thinking about finally posting my work! This one is AU and end-of-the-world-mulder-comes-back-from-abduction trope kinda fic so hopefully it makes sense and there is positive feedback. 

--

“And then we glue the paper on like this- yep, good job. This is going to look great.” Dana Scully handed the stick of stale glue to the little girl next to her.

“It’s big!” The little girl exclaimed, her tiny fingers pressing the edges of the purple paper to the cardboard. The makeshift dollhouse was not big by any means. Scully had constructed a few walls to separate rooms and even cut open a flap for the front door. 

Normality was something Lucy needed desperately, and the life they lead now was anything but normal. Life now was desperate, it was crawling through dead bodies to save yourself. It was losing everyone you know to the men and grays who are colonizing the world we used to know. Scully had found Lucy and Daniel when they stopped in Ohio. Brother and sister were huddled in their cellar in fear while their parents’ corpses rotted upstairs.

If Scully’s journal was accurate, the two children had been traveling with them for six months now. Lucy was four years old, but with the recent events, she acted as if she were barely a year old. She would cry throughout the night, raise her arms up until someone held her, speak only to Daniel and Scully, sometimes Skinner on a good day. The little girl’s growth was stunted severely, not only mentally but physically too.

The food living as a nomad was just as normal as the world outside.

It wasn’t.

What little food they did find was given to Lucy and Daniel first, the only children in their group of about twelve. Next were women, Scully would have gladly given her portion to the little girl that had quickly become like her own if it had not been for the life growing inside her.

Discovering she was pregnant was bittersweet, actually more bitter than sweet. She and Mulder had been trying before this whole shit storm ensued with no luck. The couple had finally found their peace, even found a nice suburban house to raise their family in. But just like everything else in their life, chaos ensued. The first few months were spent in cars, stopping whenever there was a need for gas or food. Mulder and Scully were alone for a few weeks until they found Walter Skinner and his companion walking down the side of the road.

Mulder, Scully, Skinner and Robert were a force to be reckoned with, crushing everything in their path. The grays had no chance against these experts, for they were smart, capable and angry.

It was a windy afternoon when it all happened. The moment was so fast, but Scully remembers everything that happened when they took Mulder from her. She remembers her screaming, her throat burning and seeing his face as they pulled him away from her. He gave her a smile, the smile that told her ‘I’ll be good, I won’t do anything stupid and I’ll come right back to you’.

He never did.

So here she sat, on the creaky wooden floors of an old farmhouse that was vacant. They don’t stay long at places like this so it was vital for Scully to make something out of it for Lucy.

“Dana?” Lucy asked, keeping her eyes and hands busy with the cardboard.

“Yes, Lucy?” Scully answered, shifting a bit so she could lean against the bed. Her back was aching and sitting on the floor was not helping.

“The boys will be back soon, right? Daniel is okay?”

Scully reached out and curled a lock of brown hair behind her ear. She smiled, a rare and genuine one. “They should be back very soon. I’m sure Daniel is just fine, Walter always takes care of him, doesn’t he?”

Lucy nodded and looked up at Scully with her hazel eyes. “Mulder used to take care of him too.”

Scully stilled, her tongue limp in her mouth. She cleared her throat as she struggled to stand up. Once she had two feet planted on the creaky slabs of wood, she peered out the window, moving the lace curtain to the side. The old oak tree was all too perfect. Scully could imagine a swing dangling from a branch with a white picket fence and one of those house shaped mailboxes.

“Mulder took care of us all.” She stated plainly, unsure of what to say. Lucy had formed a liking to Mulder in the few weeks they knew each other. It was a beautiful sight to see, Mulder running around with Lucy and Daniel. Piggy back rides and bedtime stories were his specialty, Mulder was enchanted by her.

Scully fell in love with him even more.

“But he’s not here right now, but I am and I’ll take care of you. Me, you and Daniel, we’re a team, huh?” Scully’s eyes were misty, but the forced smile convinced Lucy. “How about we let this dry and see if there’s anything to eat?”

Lucy nodded vigorously and reached her arms up.

“Oh, Luce, I don’t think I can hold you anymore.” Scully smoothed the button down over her belly. It was one of Mulder’s shirts, but it didn’t smell like him anymore. She could barely remember what he smelled like. “Baby is getting too big.”

Lucy’s arms slowly dropped, but to Scully’s surprise she stood up and reach her hand out. “I can walk.”

Scully held her small hand in hers as they walked down the stairs. Skinner and Robert barged in through the door, almost taking Scully out as they passed. A few other men from the group were behind them, their faces flushed and gasping for air.

“What the hell happened? Where’s Daniel?” She asked in one breath.

“He’s fine, Dana. We found something-someone on our way back.” Skinner spoke calmly, like he was afraid to spook her.

“What do you mean?” She asked, her body suddenly numb. There was only one thing, one person they could find that would have all these men shaken up like this.

“Where is he? Walter, tell me now!” She was shouting now. Lucy looked up at her with frightened eyes, but Scully didn’t notice. The little girl kept a tight grip on her hand and cowered away behind Scully.

“It’s bad, Scully.”

“I don’t care,” she weaved her way through the sweaty bodies, “Where is he?”

Lucy bumped into Scully at her sudden stop. Mulder was sitting with his feet dangling off the edge of the pick up truck with his back to her. From what she could see, which wasn’t much, burn marks and cuts painted his back.

She reached for him and he flinched wickedly, his whole body recoiled. Scully jumped away too, her arms immediately going around Lucy to use her own body as a shield. The thought of having to protect Lucy from Mulder scared her more than the blood on his face.

“Mulder,” she said softly, shakily, “it’s me. It’s Scully.”

Mulder didn’t look up, but her eyes were trained on his face. She didn’t notice Daniel standing next to her and then pull Lucy into his arms.

“I wouldn’t touch him, he almost clocked me on the way here.” Daniel’s voice was distant, low and too deep for an eleven year old. He watched Mulder too, but his gaze in anger and fright. He watched Scully, he took a protective step forward in case there was any funny business.

“Take Lucy in, Daniel. Make her something to eat, okay?” Scully turned her back for a moment once she realized Mulder wasn’t moving. She wiped a smudge of dirt off his cheek with the pad of her thumb.

“He could hurt you, Dana.” Daniel warned, his hand grasping hers with a gentle grip. Lucy looked up at her brother and then back at Mulder. This wasn’t the same guy who was her best friend. He didn’t look nice, he looked scary and there was too much blood.

“He’s not going to hurt me, he’s just not feeling well.” Scully turned back to Mulder, she wanted to pull him in her arms and make him feel better.

“I’m not kidding, Dana. He’s crazy now.”

Scully wanted to prove her point and quite frankly she needed the feel of his calloused hand in hers. In a flurry of movement, she barely grazed his hand when he jumped up and gripped both her wrists in his large hands. His grip was unrelenting as was his eyes. They were black, his pupils wide and his jaw clenched. He looked right through her.

His eyes were dead like the man he once was.

“Walter!” Daniel shouted, suddenly looking like a terrified child.

Scully was frozen, she stumbled back on the rocks on the dirt path. If it weren’t for his tight hold, she would have fallen over. She was dangling by her wrists.

“Mulder,” her voice cracked, her eyes devouring his, “let go, please. You’re hurting me.”

He didn’t budge, it was almost like her words went right through him. The wind rippled through the trees, their whooshing sound the only noise. No words were exchanged, but Scully could hear Mulder’s ragged breathing.

Walter ran to the truck, the sounds of a few more footsteps followed. “Mulder, get your hands off her.”

“Skinner, I’m fine. Let me deal with it.” Scully glanced over at the older man then gazed back at Mulder.

Mulder’s grip slackened when she got closer to where he could see the blue halo of her eyes. They weren’t black and her skin wasn’t gray or rough. Her eyes were wide and frightened, an unfamiliar pang hit his chest when he saw the tears welling in her eyes.

“Let go and it’ll be okay. I’ll take care of you, no one’s going to hurt you anymore. I promise.” She soothed him, gazing up at him as if they were the only two left on this Earth.

Mulder looked around rapidly, his eyes animalistic as if he was ready to pounce. Lucy squealed in fright when he let go of Scully. She stumbled back and if it weren’t for Skinner’s arm, she would have fallen.

“Get him inside, please, don’t hurt him!” Scully shouted as the men tackled Mulder and practically dragged him inside. Her legs felt like jello and she had never felt so thankful for Skinner in her life.

“Let me see you.” Walter pulled back, stabilizing her with a gentle hand on her shoulder.

She kept her eyes on her feet even when she felt him nudge her. Looking up through her eyelashes, she cursed herself for the tear that escaped her eyes. Daniel and Lucy stood a few feet away with wide eyes.

Scully brought her wrist up silently for Skinner to examine. His much larger hands examined her wrists, a red ring of finger marks encircled her pale wrists.

“I’m okay,” Scully cleared her throat, “I just need to check on him. Where did you find him? What did he do to you?” She directed her last question at Daniel.

“We were hunting in the backwoods and Daniel saw him lying naked in the mud. He was just as violent then as you just saw now.” Skinner explained as he let go of her wrist, eyeing her carefully.

“I called his name and I did what you just did.” Daniel interjected with a hint of sadness in his voice. “He was fast, but I was faster.”

Scully shuddered at the thought of her Mulder hurting anyone, especially their unofficial son. She took in the young man’s appearance before her. Daniel was an outspoken, smart and brave twelve year old boy. She didn’t know much about him except for his strong, overwhelming urge to protect his sister. Scully saw pieces of Mulder in him, not only the bond between himself and his sister, but the urge to protect.

Daniel stood with Lucy in his arms, her nubile body glued to his. Her arms were snaked around his neck and she eyed Dana from behind the curtain of her curly hair.

She stepped forward and stroked his cheek again, a pang hit her chest when he half smiled at her. He tried to be strong so much, but Scully often forgets that he’s a child. How can you expect a child to take care of another child?

“I’m sorry, Daniel, I’m sorry you had to see him like that.” Her voice was low and laced with sadness.

Daniel shrugged and shifted Lucy’s weight. “It’s okay, Dana. I’ve seen worse than Mulder’s butt.”

Scully chuckled under her breath and her smiled widened when Lucy giggled along. Skinner ushered everyone inside and took Lucy from Daniel’s struggling arms.

“Dana, can I have something to eat now?” Lucy asked as they entered the kitchen. She was tugging on Scully’s arm as chaos ensued on the floor above them.

Scully was distracted by the noise upstairs until Lucy tugged again. Snapping out of her daze, she began fixing Lucy a peanut butter sandwich.

“Scully, I don’t think you should go up there. And I’m not saying that as your former boss, I’m saying it as your friend. At least let me get him restrained.” Skinner spoke quietly. The two left the kitchen leaving Lucy to devour her lunch and Daniel to pick up on his latest chapter of a ripped up Frankenstein.

Skinner walked behind her as they ascended up the stairs. She could feel him hovering as they neared Mulder. She eyed Mulder who was sitting on the bed that she slept on last night. His back was facing her once again, but this time he was completely still.

“You’re not restraining him for god’s sake.” Scully nearly spat. “Sorry, I just can’t believe he’s here… that he’s alive.”

Skinner nodded in empathy. “Me either,” he glanced at Mulder, “I just know if-when he gets back to himself, he’ll kill me for letting you get hurt. Or worse he’ll blame himself… we both know he’s the excellent martyr.”

“I just need to talk to him.” Her voice cracked.

Skinner hesitated for a moment before rolling his eyes. “I’m going to be right here, the door is staying open.”

Scully placed a hand on his arm and smiled gently, taking a deep breath and smoothing her shirt over her stomach, she began her walk to Mulder.

He didn’t move when she dragged the chair to sit in front of him. She would have gladly kneeled in front of him and pull his hands into hers if it weren’t for bulging belly. She couldn’t help but imagine all the scenarios of Mulder finding out that she was pregnant. He would smile so big, the smile that reached his eyes, and pull her into a tight hug. He’d press a kiss on the shell of her ear and whisper how happy he was.

He would cry and kneel at Scully’s feet and kiss her belly like a deranged lover. His arms would wrap around her waist and her fingers would comb through his thick hair.

Or maybe he’d be there with her when the stick turned blue. He’d hold her hair back when she’d puke and she’d roll her eyes and blame it on the stomach flu.

But instead he stared back at her blankly. 

“Mulder, it’s me.”

TBC